Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs)

by Unknown

  He craned his head and looked up at her with his cobalt blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said before he got a word out. “I didn’t know the house was going to blow up.” Another explosion happened, but this one landed in her chest like a guilt grenade. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you hadn’t tackled me. What were you thinking doing such a stupid thing?”

  One dark eyebrow lifted high. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

  She smiled slightly even as the sting of tears burned her eyes. “Yeah. I guess I am,” she said softly. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

  “As long as you brought it up…I happen to think it’s a pretty fine ass.” Leo took her hand and linked their fingers. “Sorry.” he gestured toward the house.

  The tears she’d been holding back finally slipped down her cheeks. Stephanie was gone. If she was in that house, she couldn’t have survived.

  Oh shit. Carl. She needed to call Carl.

  “I’ll be back in a sec, okay,” she told Leo. “I need to get my purse and call Carl.” Kim picked her way through the yard in her bare feet, avoiding hot chunks of burning wood. She found her shoes outside the gate and picked them up before retrieving her purse from Leo’s Porsche. She scrolled through her contacts but couldn’t find his number. Frustration sizzled down her spine. She hadn’t added him to her contact list yet. Dammit.

  Stephanie’s phone! She snagged Stephanie’s purse, found the phone, and punched Carl’s number.

  “What?” he demanded. What. A. Prick.

  “It’s Kim. Carl, something’s happened. You need to come home. Stephanie is…Stephanie is…” She didn’t know what Stephanie was. Until her body was recovered, Kim chose to avoid thinking the worst. “You need to come home now.”

  “I’m a little busy at the moment.” If there was something worse than a prick, Carl was it.

  “Carl, your house just fucking exploded and it’s burning to the ground. I suggest you get in your fucking car and come home.” Kim disconnected the call and a fresh sting of tears blurred her eyes.

  A strong arm came around her shoulders and she looked up at a shirtless Leo. She’d forgotten how ripped he was. It had been years since she’d seen him in Dangerous Race. The movie had an R rating because the sex scenes were so hot. His washboard abs came from hard workouts and a huge amount of discipline.

  She spotted the edge of the bandages along his side. “Are you okay?”

  “Nothing time and burn cream won’t cure.” He tipped his chin toward the phone in her hand. “The Asshole is on his way?”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him, but he makes it hard to be civil. Still.” She gestured to the house and her bottom lip trembled. “This is…this is really…” She couldn’t finish and Leo pulled her against him. She tried to hold it in, tried to keep a breakdown from happening and the effort shook her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” Leo whispered, his lips so close to her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t try to downplay it. Didn’t try to pretend that everything was all right. She might’ve lost her friend tonight. She held onto the hope that until they had proof, Stephanie wasn’t dead. He held her like that for a long time. Right up until Carl pulled up in his Bentley, got out of his car and surveyed what was left of his house.

  “What happened here?” he asked, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. It was the first drop of emotion she’d noticed from him.

  “I have no idea. We pulled up and it was fully engulfed in flames.”

  “Where’s Stephanie?” he asked, scanning the yard like he expected to see her with them.

  Oh God, how did she break the news? “I never saw her.” Maybe he’d understand what she meant. “Maybe she went to a neighbor’s house after she got home. Or maybe she realized she forgot her purse and headed back to the club.” All of a sudden her spirits picked up. Yes! That made perfect sense! Maybe she hadn’t been in the house after all. Maybe she was at the club now, wondering where Kim was.

  Kim only hoped. Until the authorities investigated the site, they wouldn’t know for sure.

  A police officer took their statement and Kim told them what little she knew. The first point of business was to find the limo driver and see if he’d actually taken Stephanie home or if she’d had him drop her off somewhere else. Although Kim had no idea where she might go, especially without her purse and ID, but until they found her body, she chose to think the best case scenario.

  “I guess we need to find a hotel,” Carl muttered, looking a little shell-shocked at his burned out house.

  “A hotel,” Kim repeated stupidly. Yes, she’d need a new place to stay. “Oh, damn,” she murmured. All of her stuff had been in the house…all her clothes and luggage, gone. She closed her eyes at the insignificance of the personal loss. But Carl’s meaning finally registered with her whacked out brain.

  “We have to stay somewhere tonight.” He gestured toward his Bentley and Kim stood frozen, staring at him. “What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Let’s go.”

  Not in this lifetime. Not even if he quadrupled her salary. She still had her wallet and credit cards. She didn’t need Carl. “No.” She didn’t say it loud and having the steely hard gaze focused on her sent a wash of cold chills down her back.

  “Don’t be a fool.” Carl’s beady eyes bored right through her. “You have no place else to stay. You don’t have a choice.”

  Prick to the tenth power.

  She turned to Leo. “Can you take me to a nearby hotel. I’d really appreciate it.”

  He watched her for a second and considered something. “How about you come to my place? It’s closer than anything in the area and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.”

  God, she didn’t want to do that either. Staying with Leo Frost? What kind of suicide was that?

  “Don’t look at me like I’m him,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder to Carl. “You’ll have your own room, your own shower and I’ve got an extra car you can drive. I won’t get near you, won’t touch you.” His solemn expression sold her. The man knew how to win an argument. No wonder he’d won so many awards. He was a master convincer. “C’mon. What do you say?”

  Kim didn’t even look at Carl. “I say, Thank you. You’re on.”

  Hot water sluiced over Blake’s shoulders as he stood under the shower spray in the opulent travertine tile shower. Two days had gone by. Two days of being near Abbey and at the same time, being a thousand miles away from Abbey. She was a pro at creating distance between them.

  Blake shook his head to force the thought out of his mind. He shut down the stream, snagged the thick microfiber towel over the glass door and got out of the shower. Although his bruises looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a bull, he felt much better. At least he could move without pain ripping through his muscles. Recuperating in his boss’s tricked out house was way better than his no frills apartment.

  Now if he could just figure out Abbey, he’d be batting a thousand. The healthier he got, the more she drifted away from him. He closed his eyes and thought back to the other night when he’d woken up with her fingers playing in his hair. He wanted more of that. A lot more. He wanted to be able to touch her that way. To not only run his hands through her hair, but across her skin. To taste the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her body.

  He opened his eyes and exhaled a hard breath. He needed a life.

  He also needed to get back to his own place. Toweling off the water, he reached for his clothes on the counter. He couldn’t hide out here anymore. Yeah, he’d needed the time to heal a bit, but no one was going to run him down or catch him unaware again. Not him or Abbey.

  The police still hadn’t found their guy and Blake knew he was out there. Waiting, watching. There was no if the guy planned to strike again. It was when and where.

  Blake gingerly pulled on his faded jeans, a white T-shirt and headed into the ki
tchen.

  “How you feeling?” Troy asked as he poured himself some coffee. “Want some?” He lifted the pot.

  “Sure. Thanks,” Blake replied. “I’m better. I look like shit, but at least I can move.” He took the mug Troy offered and sipped a taste. Good stuff. “Look, I just want to thank you and Julie for letting me hang here the last couple of days. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it, but I’m good to go home. I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I would appreciate if you let Abbey stay though. I’m worried about her.” Blake took another swallow of his coffee.

  Troy nodded. “We planned on it. Julie’s worried about her too. We all are.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Abbey entered the kitchen. Dressed in her dance gear—the same outfit with the hot pink stripe—and her makeup and hair done to perfection, she looked like a movie star in the making. No, she looked like a goddess. Like the woman who held the key to every fantasy he’d ever had. She was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

  Blake blinked a couple of times and cleared the fog in his head. “You’re pretty decked out.” A giant understatement. She was pure unadulterated sweetness. So where the hell did she think she was going? “Hot date?” At eight thirty in the morning, he doubted it.

  “Hot audition,” she said. “My stupid phone never rang, but my agent called last night and left a voice mail. I’ve got a callback from the audition the other day. I’m in the running for one of the show regulars. This is way bigger than I anticipated. I thought I was going for one of the dance teams.”

  A swell of pride for Abbey washed through Blake. It was about time she was up for something big. But no sooner had the thought appeared, another one came right on its heels. Blake glanced at Troy when reality set in. “You aren’t seriously going to this? What time is the audition?”

  “A couple of hours.” She tilted her head and glared at him as she ignored his first question. “I have to leave here in thirty minutes. I need to get there early and warm up.”

  Dying to say, no, Blake held back that response and said, “I’m going with you then.”

  Abbey lifted one perfect eyebrow and Blake returned the look with narrowed eyes, daring her to argue. “Excuse me?” she said with one hand perched on her hip.

  A big-ass wave of frustration crashed in on him. “I said, ‘I’m going with you.’” He ran a hand through his hair and paced across the kitchen to keep from grabbing Abbey and tying her to a kitchen chair. “Did you forget what happened two days ago? Do you think because some time has passed that this guy is conveniently gone?”

  Abbey clenched her jaw and stood up straighter, which actually didn’t seem possible. “No,” she said coolly. “I haven’t forgotten.” She strode over to him and faced him head on. Her citrus scent climbed into his head and made his brain cells fuzzy. “I thought maybe you or Troy could make sure no one’s following me when I leave. You’d know if someone was and once we decide I’m clear, then I don’t have to worry. Because if he’s not sitting out front, then he’s not going to know where I’m headed. For your information, I don’t take what happened lightly, but I don’t expect you to escort me all over town for the rest of my life or until this guy is caught.”

  Julie walked into the room and to the giant stainless steel fridge. “I remember having a similar conversation with you about a year ago,” she said with a pointed look at her husband.

  Troy acknowledged her with a shrug. “Very true. And who was right about keeping you under wraps from everyone?”

  A loud exhale accompanied Julie’s eye roll. “He was a girl in a past life,” she told Abbey. “He never lets me forget anything.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m right.” Troy lifted his hands in an innocent gesture.

  Abbey wasn’t having any part of it. “Look, I get it, okay. But I can’t live my whole life in your house waiting for the other shoe to drop. We have a much better chance of actually catching this guy if I’m out doing my thing. Was your plan to wait until he made a move on me here? I doubt it,” she said, pacing away from them. “You’d probably rather keep me hidden here for God knows how long. Which brings to mind my job. How am I supposed to do my job if I’m stuck here?” She glanced at Julie and let them think on that for a few seconds as she picked up her bag from the counter. “I have to leave here soon and I appreciate one of you guys following me for a few miles to make sure no one else is.” She looked between Troy and Blake before opening her bag and rifling through it. “I left my keys in the bedroom. I’ll be right back.” She left the room and Blake faced the wall and thunked his head twice.

  Shit, he needed to get his boots on before she walked out the door. He couldn’t go with her barefoot. He headed to the office.

  Troy’s voice followed him from the kitchen. “I’ll follow you guys for a little while and make sure you’re not tailed. Abbey had a point. Unless the guy is watching the house he has no way to know where she is or where she’s going.”

  “He sure as hell knew she was at that audition,” Blake said over his shoulder. It took him less than a minute to jam his feet into his size thirteen Timberlands and get back to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Abbey entered and picked up her bag. “Are you going to follow me?” she asked Blake.

  “Nope. I’m taking you. Troy is going to follow us.”

  “I guess there’s no point in arguing that you could still use some down time.” She didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  She huffed a sigh and headed to the front door, leaving him and Troy following behind like lap dogs. “See you later,” she called.

  “Bye,” Julie yelled. “Break legs.”

  Blake shook his head. He never understood how breaking a leg meant good luck.

  Outside, he opened the passenger door to his Explorer and waited until Abbey climbed in. The garage door lifted and Troy pulled his BMW out of one of the three car bins. Easing into the driver’s seat, Blake grabbed his shades from the dash and slid them on before cranking the engine. He hated the silence between them.

  “You know this is only about protecting you, right? I’m not the dick you’re making me out to be.”

  “I never said you were a dick. You just don’t seem to understand that this is my life. My dream. I can’t let an opportunity like this go by.”

  Blake grunted.

  Traffic was a bitch and Blake pulled off the main road onto the surface streets to avoid it. He checked the rearview mirror to see if anyone followed. He called Troy from the Bluetooth unit. “Any sign of anything?” he asked his boss.

  “Not a thing. I’ll let you know if I spot anyone on your tail.”

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  They made it to the audition and Blake found a parking place along the street. He walked Abbey into the building then waited in the downstairs lobby. Dozens of dancers loitered in the area and they all looked toned and beautiful.

  Blake stood at the big windows near the door and kept an eye out on the street. He watched for slow cruising vehicles or suspicious people. Most especially he looked for a man named Kwami.

  “Abbey Washington,” a petite redhead called, looking up from her clipboard.

  “Right here.” Abbey stood, tossed her pack over her shoulder and followed the casting assistant into the room. At least a half dozen people sat behind two six-foot-long tables. Most of them had their heads down as they played on their cell phones. Abbey had never done more than dance for an audition. She either danced and got the job…or didn’t get the job. This interview went way past her norm. She had to do something to catch their attention and keep it.

  “This is Abbey,” the woman said, introducing her to the group. She handed Abbey’s headshot to the person on the end and exited the room.

  “Hi, Abbey,” a few people said as she dropped her pack in the corner and stood on the mark on the floor opposite six pairs of eyes now focused on her.

  “Hi,” she said, her smile genuine sinc
e adrenaline cruised through her veins.

  The casting director adjusted the lens on the camera. “Slate please,” she said. “And profiles.”

  “I’m Abbey Washington. I’m twenty-four.” She turned and gave the camera both right and left profiles. That was a first too.

  “Great,” the casting director said after a few seconds of tape. “We’re going to improvise things. I hope that’s okay.”

  Abbey gave them her best smile. “Of course.” Like she had an option, which she didn’t.

  No one knew better than her that she’d hibernated in a mental cell of her own making for the past nine years. If she didn’t step out of it now and show these people she had what it took to land this show, then she didn’t deserve it. She channeled her lighthearted boss with the great comic timing.

  “What’s your favorite hobby?” one of the producers asked.

  “That’s easy.” She scanned the room. “Dancing.”

  “What’s your favorite style of dance?” a woman on the far end asked.

  “Oh, wow, that’s like a asking a mother who her favorite child is,” Abbey joked. The producers smiled. “I love hip hop, of course, but I’m also a little old fashioned and I adore ballet. Tap too. The sound, the rhythm, it’s pretty awesome. But don’t tell the Tango, Rumba or Waltz I said that because they all think they’re my favorite.”

  A few them made notes and Abbey fused the smile on her face.

  “How old were you when you started dancing?” a man in the middle asked. His stern tone and expression reminded her of Simon Cowell.

  “Four. My mom enrolled my big sister and me into a neighborhood ballet class. It didn’t go over well at first though.” She paused to dangle the hook a little. “There was one older boy in the class who got to kind of stand in the middle just to walk a girl around or dip her over his arm. I wanted that job. The teacher finally told me I could once I learned everything they had to teach me.” She nodded at the people watching her. “Turns out it was a good deal, because I really liked the dancing part.”