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Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs)

Page 23

by Unknown


  “I guess.” He didn’t sound too sure as he pulled toward the exit, then he shook his head. “I hate that you had to ID that guy. You’ve been through enough.”

  “You’ve been through a lot too…because of me.”

  He glanced at her, his expression unreadable behind those dark shades. “That’s not an issue.”

  “It should be. I don’t get why you have any desire to be around me. All of a sudden I’m like a trouble magnet.”

  “That’s BS.” He checked the rearview mirror and made a right turn onto the street. “You saw something you weren’t supposed to see and now you’re a target. It’s not your fault.”

  No. But it made her a victim. Again. “You know…” she stared out the window as the city buildings blurred by. “I told myself I wouldn’t be a victim again. I’ve taken so many self-defense classes, I think I could be an instructor.” She took a deep breath. “And it didn’t matter.”

  “Bullshit. You better believe it mattered. You got yourself out of that place in Palm Springs. You saved yourself, Ab. How many people, men included, could’ve done what you did and get free?” He glanced at her again. “Not many. I guarantee it. I’m so proud of you for that.” He shook his head. “God, I can’t tell you how much I wish I’d been able to get free during…” He trailed off and Abbey’s heart sank at the helplessness in his voice. The one time they’d talked about this, he’d been exhausted after nearly being run over by a Hummer. But her curiosity still burned.

  Yes, she’d seen the movie, but movies only told one story and Blake had his own.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” she asked. The movie had shown the aftermath of the actual kidnapping with only short flashbacks of everyone’s individual struggle. It left the majority of the actual kidnapping to the viewer’s mind. Sometimes that was more powerful than images.

  Blake swallowed and nodded as he made a left hand turn. “It was Saturday, late afternoon. Brendan and I were coming home from a movie.” He shook his head. “I don’t even remember what it was. I just remember we were laughing and fucking around. We came in through the kitchen like always. Bren was ahead of me. His phone had died and he wanted to call his friend, Dave, about a computer sale.” Blake took another right turn and kept checking his rearview mirror. “The house was really quiet. I should’ve felt the difference in the air, but I didn’t. I stopped at the fridge to get something to drink and I heard Bren in the hallway. Then I heard this giant thump. At first I laughed. I thought he slipped or something taking the stairs, but then I heard more.” He swallowed again. “I dropped the Gatorade in my hand and bolted for the hallway. As soon as I came out of the kitchen, I got nailed in the face. The son of a bitch was just waiting for me to turn that corner. Two guys were beating the shit out of Bren.” He got a faraway look in his eyes and Abbey’s heart rolled over. “We had this little table in the entry hall and when I bounced off it, I grabbed at it and swung hard. I got the guy who nailed me, but another one jumped me from the other side. There were four of them.” He shook his head. “I remember the weight of them pressing me to the floor. I remember the fists and the boots. Mostly I remember hearing Bren grunting every time they hit him. But he wouldn’t quit. He just…” His voice cracked and he swiped beneath his glasses. “I remember screaming for him to stop. We were outnumbered. I figured we walked in on a robbery. Let ’em have whatever they want. It wasn’t worth it. But…” He checked his mirror again and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “They weren’t there to rob us. They cuffed and gagged us both so we wouldn’t make noise when everyone else got home. They picked everyone off one at a time. My mom was last.” His jaw clenched tight. “I didn’t see it, but I heard it. She took the first guy out with one well-placed hit to his temple.”

  “With her fist?” Abbey asked.

  Blake shook his head. “Her purse. Dad’s always joked that she carries bricks in that thing. Her wallet alone weighs a ton. The house was destroyed by the time she got in. They couldn’t let her get as far inside as we did because she’d have known something was wrong. They pounced on her as soon as she walked in the kitchen door. I heard someone drop and I got so sick to my stomach. I knew she’d hit the deck. But then I heard her voice and I thought, man, my mom is so fucking tough. Then the big guy who’d beat the shit out of Bren went in and…”

  He paused, took a deep breath. “He hit her so hard, all the blood vessels popped in her eye. She was unconscious for hours. I thought my dad was going to puke. By that point, he was tied and gagged like the rest of us.” He took another unsteady breath. “But my mom…” Blake shook his head. “Man, she’s so strong, she never quits. Never lets anything get her down. She was the one who nearly got us out of that house. She managed to get the key from the guy guarding us, then she lured him back in and I slammed him in the head with a wooden chair leg. We got out the back door, and Eric and I made it over the fence.” He shook his head. “We just weren’t quick enough. They discovered we were gone and caught us.” He rubbed his chest. “That was when I learned the difference between a bruised rib and a broken rib.”

  Abbey didn’t know what to say.

  A few seconds later, he shook his head and rolled his shoulders. “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and my shoulders hurt because of being in those cuffs so long. I can’t even stand to have blankets tucked around me anymore. I need to be able to move, to have my hands and legs free.”

  He finished the drive to Troy and Julie’s place in silence.

  It was as bad as her experience, maybe worse on another level because not only had he been beaten, but he’d had to watch his family as they were beaten as well. Abbey might have been violated and thrown into a dark space for a few hours, but her issues dealt solely with herself. Blake had to deal with hearing the ones he loved being brutalized repeatedly.

  Once the gate closed on the property and Blake cut the engine, he looked at her. “So for the most part, I do understand what you went through. I mean, obviously I’ll never be a woman and know what it’s like to be…” he had a tough time saying it, “…violated. But I understand being bound and gagged. I understand the helplessness.”

  Abbey nodded and felt a kinship with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He’d gotten past his trauma and lived his life.

  Something she still needed to do. Something she would do.

  As they got out of the SUV, a sudden realization hit Abbey head on. All this time she’d been keeping Blake at a distance when he was the one man who understood her better than anyone. Everything he did, all his words, said what she’d been hoping to hear her whole adult life. She’d been too focused on her inability to have a relationship instead of opening her eyes and seeing what this man had to offer.

  Why run from the emotions he stirred in her? He made her feel normal, wanted and loved.

  Another realization smacked her like a punch. Blake was like this dance show. She wanted him and she’d do whatever it took to get him.

  She loved him. Her heart raced as the word swam around in her head. She loved him.

  It was time she took the first step in her journey to get better. Time she let Blake know how much he meant to her. And there was no better way to do that than to show him.

  Blake walked into the house, tossed his sunglasses on the entry table and rubbed his eyes. He’d only shared that story twice before. First to his family when they’d been held hostage by a whacked out Vegas casino owner and then to the police when they’d been rescued. He’d never planned to talk about it again. It brought up too many feelings he couldn’t deal with. Being helpless was his biggest fear. Being tied up and watching the ones he loved as they suffered was more devastating than any beating.

  So though he could relate to Abbey’s trauma, there remained that one element of difference. She’d been a young girl and she’d been violated. What kind of sick bastard got off on hurting innocent girls? Blake shook his head to get that picture out of his mind. If he thought about it for too long, he�
��d drive himself crazy.

  The other thing driving him crazy was discovering that the owner of the Palm Springs estate was none other than Paul Facinetti’s cousin, Michael. Like Troy, Blake didn’t believe in coincidence. Kwami was the one factor that the Facinettis had in common. He got a whole new bad feeling about the entire situation.

  He needed to burn off the frustration. Not only because of this last conversation, but because of his quasi-relationship with Abbey. He had no clue where he stood with her. He’d spewed his heart and soul, and though she’d nodded and related to his experience, he wasn’t sure if sharing the ordeal had helped her in any way.

  “I need a shower after that meeting,” Abbey said, walking down the hallway toward the guest room. “I’ll be out quick.”

  “I’ll be in the gym.” Pounding his aggression out on the heavy bag. Thinking about those days being a victim always keyed him up. Blake watched her walk away, unable to tear his gaze off the perfection of her ass.

  Whipped much?

  Shit, he was toast when it came to her. So far gone he’d need a guide dog to find his way back from Abbey.

  Blake didn’t bother changing clothes, he went straight to the gym. The faster he hit something or lifted something heavy, the faster he’d clear his head. His phone rang just as he walked over to the free weights and he checked the screen. Brendan.

  His brother almost always called when Blake was about to blow his top. Somehow they shared a connection like that. Blake had grown almost used to it. He punched the screen. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up? You home yet?”

  “Not yet. Seger agreed to add another couple of nights to the schedule since it’s the last stop for a while. What’s up with you? How’s Abbey doing?”

  They’d talked the day after Blake had found her in Palm Springs, but Bren would want to know how she was handling the aftermath. They all knew about aftermath.

  “She’s okay. We just came from the police station. She had to identify a body. It was the guy she saw at the Sports Center, but they don’t have a name for him yet. They think they will soon though since he matches the description of a missing person.”

  “Okay. Now tell me how you’re doing.” Brendan could always read between the lines.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Right. And I’m a Bieber fan. What’s up?”

  Blake snorted a laugh. Bren always knew how to get a smile out of him. “I thought Abbey and I crossed a threshold and I was wrong.”

  “I know you’re into her, but if she hurts you…bro, I am going to be pissed off.”

  “Down boy. I can handle whatever happens Abbey-wise. I’ve waited this long.”

  “Yeah I know. I’m not a fan of the wait either. You deserve better than a chick who dicks with your feelings.” Bren had hardened after his ordeal, but Blake couldn’t blame him. It had changed them all. “Shit, Seger’s calling. I need to go. You’re okay right? I just got a weird feeling and thought I should call.”

  “Yeah. I’m good bro. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Sounds good. Later.”

  Blake punched End and set the phone on the stack of mats piled along the wall. He kicked off his boots and habitually checked the blade tucked in the sheath sewn into the inside as he removed his socks. Getting kidnapped taught a guy a few things about self-preservation. Bren had a similar one in his boot too. They’d both worn boots instead of cross trainers since the kidnapping. Easier to hide a knife that way.

  He grabbed two forty-pound dumbbells and curled them alternately. At the ten count he felt the burn in his forearms and sweat prickled under his arms. He pushed it to twenty-five then took a break to slam the punching bag in the corner a few times. He should wrap his hands since the road rash was finally healing, but he was too wired from reliving the incident to take the time.

  Something had to give with Abbey or he was going to back off for good no matter what his fucking heart wanted. A guy could only take so much rejection from one girl. After a few minutes on the bag, he went back to his dumbbells.

  He heard—or maybe he sensed—someone behind him because he turned. Abbey stood in the doorway, shower fresh, her skin dewy smooth, her hair soft and straight to her gleaming shoulders. A pair of black yoga shorts showcased her mile-long legs and the white button-up top draped seductively to her curves. A slice of heaven marred by the fresh white bandage covering the stitches on her thigh.

  “I’ve been thinking about something,” she said. She set her phone on the small entry table and looked so serious, so absolutely Abbey, that the undercurrent of bad news screamed off her.

  Blake put the dumbbells away on the stand, snagged a towel from the cabinet next to it and wiped off the sweat. He braced himself for the just friends speech. Maybe if she cut him off completely, he’d get over her. But he doubted it. “I’m all ears.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Leo’s phone rang and Kim checked the caller ID from the desk in his office. His lawyer, Tom, had called back and they’d been strategizing his survival—and lawsuit against Nathan—for the better part of forty-eight hours. “It’s your accountant’s office. Do you want to get it or should I?” she asked. Considering she wasn’t an actress, she’d done an amazing job acting as if the sex had never happened.

  “Fucking Nathan.” He hopped off the sofa and snagged the phone. “Where the hell have you been and where’s my money, asshole?” he said into the receiver.

  Kim cringed at the tone and rage in his voice. She understood it, but it still sounded harsh.

  “Oh, sorry, Bonnie.”

  She stood up from behind Leo’s mammoth desk and stretched her legs. She’d been working for hours, going over his finances and the flash drive from Nathan’s office. It had been a long day and she was about ready to punch out. Dinner sounded good right about now. With a tall glass of…soda. No more Jack for her. Not the rest of this trip anyway.

  Leo’s tone had gone deathly quiet as he sat on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. This did not look good. “What? Can’t be,” he murmured. “You’re sure?” He squinted his eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay. I believe you.” He blew out a rush of air. “Thanks for calling, Bonnie. Good luck.” Leo disconnected and tossed the phone on the sofa next to him. He leaned against the cushion and rested his head all the way back, thoroughly defeated.

  She waited, let him process whatever news he’d just heard.

  He finally sat up, blew out another gust of air and met her gaze. “Nathan is dead.”

  What? “Did you just say he’s dead? As in never coming back?”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  This was bad.

  “This is bad,” Leo said.

  “What did Bonnie say?”

  “She’d turned in a missing person’s report not long after we picked up our files,” he said, referring to the day they’d met in Nathan’s office. “The cops found a body and it matched her description. They sent two cops over with a picture and she identified him a little while ago.”

  “Wow. That sucks.” On so many levels.

  “On so many levels.”

  “Stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Nothing.” She paced the room. “I can’t believe this. How did he die?” Stopping, she faced Leo.

  “She said he was stabbed.” Kim grimaced and Leo continued. “They asked her if Nathan had any enemies that she knew of.”

  With a snort, Kim started pacing again. “Apparently a few.”

  “Yeah, like every client on his roster, I imagine.”

  “Maybe so, but not every client knew he was stealing.” She stopped and faced Leo again. “And it’s possible he didn’t steal from every client.”

  “Just the rich ones,” Leo groused.

  “Lucky you,” Kim murmured.

  “Now what do we do?” he asked. “Do I have any recourse where he’s concerned?”

  “Absolutely. We just need to call Tom back so he knows what he’s up against. Although w
e don’t know if Nathan’s estate has any money in it. That’s the million dollar question. For now, we continue on with the plan of selling everything we can and digging you out of the hole. I should hear back from the IRS tomorrow and we’ll see if we can’t get a payment plan going. Things might be tight for a while, but you’ll be okay eventually. The good news is you shouldn’t be going to jail.”

  His eyes rounded. “Shouldn’t be? That’s not at all reassuring.” He looked adorably concerned, his blue eyes wide and his hair tousled from running his hand through it so much. Still sitting forward, Leo dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe he’s gone. Jesus, I’ve known him more than half my life. I can’t believe…” He trailed off as his friend’s death sank in.

  She had the giant urge to comfort him, but that would only lead to stupid foolish things. Like the things she did when drinking Jack and she wasn’t drinking Jack. Maybe not ever again.

  Shouldn’t be going to jail. The words circled in Leo’s head as Kim leaned against the front of his desk. He took a deep breath and tamped down his rising panic.

  She smelled as good as she did that morning when he’d come into the office and found her working. “As much as I’d like to guarantee you everything is going to be super-fantastic, I can’t do it. I need to talk to the powers that be. I would think when they hear the extenuating circumstances, they’ll cut you some slack,” she said.

  “You would think? More reassuring words. Thanks,” Leo grumbled, not at all placated by her attempt to make him feel better.

  Her brows tilted in a worried pucker. “C’mon. I’m hungry. Part of this deal is that you feed me. What’s in the fridge?” She walked out of the room without a backward glance.

  The woman mystified him. She didn’t act or react to him the way most women did. He could categorize most of the females he’d run across. First, the die-hard fans that wanted any piece of him. Second, the ones who took all the shit in the press seriously and wanted nothing to do with him—which is actually how Kim had started out—and third, the ones that didn’t care about either of those points and just wanted to get lucky. He did have a reputation after all.

 

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