Reece knew the feeling well. “We’ll get him,” he said to his drug dealer and made his way back into the building.
2
“Go home, Emily!”
Emily lifted her head from the pile of papers as her boss called the command across the office. The real world looked strange for a moment as her eyes adjusted from looking at something other than letters on a page for the first time in hours. If she kept this up, she’d need glasses before she was thirty. She was enough of a dork already, no need to complete the outfit. Glasses might make other women her age look hot, if you were into the naughty teacher thing, but she was willing to bet she’d be more old-librarian-in-a-cardigan than anything else.
The clock caught her eye. Shit! It was already a couple of minutes past eight p.m. The whole day had passed by without her noticing. She picked up her phone just in time to see the screen blink and then die. Perfect timing. Finishing the last of the edits her boss would need in the morning, she sent the document to print and then looked at her desk. The piles of work were gone. Wow. Maybe she should try escaping reality more often if it got all her work done.
Figuring it would be a good idea to have a phone that actually worked before she left the office, Emily plugged her cell into her desk charger and then wandered about the office to stretch her legs. She heard the tapping of a keyboard at the cubicle closest to the door and smiled. Only one other person would still be here at work this late, the one person in the office that could possibly have less of a life than she did—Wanda. Misery might like company, but Emily didn’t intend to hang around any longer. Grabbing her phone, she waved goodbye to Wanda and called it a night.
Having worked right through lunch and now dinner too, Emily decided on a pit stop on her way home. Her limbs still felt a little stiff from sitting all day, and so she walked to the diner where her friend worked, stretching her legs and getting fed at the same time. There was a crispness to the Chicago night air, even though the day had been unseasonably warm. Walking out the building’s front doors, she slipped her feet into the portable flats she kept in the bottom of her bag. No way was she walking in heels tonight. If she only had to walk to a car, sure, but she couldn’t afford one after sinking everything she had into moving out on her own. Luckily, work was just a short train ride away. She could even walk the distance if she had to.
Walking around the block, Emily shoved her hands into her pockets to warm them. She used to go for a run in the early evenings, but spare time was a luxury she didn’t have lately. What little time she had where she wasn’t working was spent sleeping. The scent of fried chicken called to her from across the street, and she went straight for it. This was way better than anything that came out of her microwave. Her landlord was dragging his feet on fixing the oven that had been broken when she moved in, and it was hard to find the energy to argue with him yet again at the end of the day. She wasn’t that great of a cook anyway.
“Emily!” a skinny red headed waitress called out as Emily pushed the diner’s door open. Just seeing the smile her friend Cathy had for her brightened Emily’s day. She still couldn’t quite believe that the two of them had become friends. Cathy had originally thought that Emily was trying to hook up with Cathy’s sleaze of a boyfriend, who kept hanging around the diner. It had been her first day in Chicago, and Emily had walked out of her old life and straight into drama in the new one. When Emily had ended up punching the boyfriend instead of kissing him, Cathy had figured out what was going on and kicked him to the curb. Turns out Emily was not the first diner patron he’d hit on while Cathy was busy with the rush hour. Far from it. Emily’s punch hadn’t done any real damage, but it had made her a friend her first day in a new town. Cathy had been invaluable in Emily’s first weeks living in the new city, showing her the latest hot spots and pointing out the areas to avoid. What Emily appreciated most of all though was Cathy’s ability to understand her need for space. Cathy would check in with her once a week or so, but otherwise, they saw each other mostly at the diner. Cathy was a party animal, but she could appreciate Emily’s need for quiet.
Cathy wrapped her in a warm hug, and Emily felt her bones creak under the force of the embrace. Despite Cathy being even smaller than Emily was, she had one of the fiercest hugs Emily had ever known. They worked wonders.
“I get off in five,” Cathy said, finally releasing her. “Don’t you dare eat without me.”
Before Emily could get a word in, Cathy left in a red blur to clear her last couple of tables. Emily sat down at her usual table, toward the back away from all the regulars who always wanted to quiz her about her life, especially her love life. As she picked up the menu the door jangled and a man walked in. He was definitely hot, but he knew it, his walk just a little too suave. She tried her best to ignore him, but when he turned his crooked grin in her direction Emily snatched up her phone and shoved in her earphones, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. It’s wasn’t like she even had a chance with a guy that looked like that anyway. So totally out of her league.
“Avoiding again?” Emily looked up in surprise as she felt a tugging on her earphone, and saw Cathy grinning down at her. “Live a little, girlfriend. That one is worth it.” Cathy’s eyes drifted over to where the man had sat, and Emily was thankful that it was not in her section.
Unfortunately, Mr. Hottie chose that moment to look up and caught Emily’s eye. He stood and started walking in their direction.
“Quick!” Emily whispered to Cathy. “Do that thing where you make the guys run away!”
Cathy laughed as she sat down next to Emily, and then leaned in and gently cupped her face. Emily stared into her friend’s eyes and hoped that she was convincing enough. For her part, she could tell Cathy was struggling to not start giggling. She gave Cathy her best smile, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Hottie stop in his tracks, pause, and then swing back around and retake his seat.
“Is he still looking at us?” Cathy asked through clenched teeth, trying to hold the smile that was frozen on her face.
Emily waited until the man threw one last look in their direction before nodding her head with a giggle. They both tried to stifle the laughs that threatened to burst from them both, and for a moment, Emily felt bad for the lost puppy look the man wore. She just wasn’t ready for a relationship, or even a date, especially after the last guy her mother tried to set her up with, Tim—what a complete idiot.
Leaving her entire family behind and moving to another state had shaken her a little, even if she refused to admit it. Add on the years of her mother berating her looks, personality, and anything else she could find to criticize, and Emily just wasn’t feeling in the mood today. Well, any day lately. She and Cathy had figured out that little trick one night when a guy was more persistent than usual. Unfortunately, it didn’t work at bars. After they’d had a few, their little display had the opposite effect on most men. In the diner, though, it still worked just fine.
Emily felt her good mood from seeing her friend deflating again. Between her overbearing mother and the complete tool she had last fallen for, she was all kinds of screwed up when it came to relationships. Add her recent lack of any sleep to that mix and Emily felt like she was heading for a nervous breakdown some days.
“So what’s up?” Cathy asked in between ordering a huge platter of battered shrimp and fries for them both. It was their favorite, and Emily looked forward to it every week.
“Not one damn thing,” Emily said with as much gusto as a dead man. She was here in Chicago trying to avoid things being up. She needed things to be boring, comforting, right now. Some space to figure out what she wanted out of life now she was finally free. The thought of dating right now frankly terrified her, and if she was sure a convent wouldn’t burn down the minute she walked in, even that life sounded like a viable option right now. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.
So far it had suited her pretty well, and she was hoping it would stay the same way. If she could ever start sleeping through the n
ight again.
“I don’t know if you’ve achieved a state of complete self-enlightenment, or you’re just boring,” Cathy said, impatiently tapping her fingers and frowning at her. “You need a life. How about we go out and get you one?”
Emily hadn’t told Cathy the full story as to why she’d moved to Chicago alone, just that she’d needed a change in scenery. Thankfully, Cathy had accepted her brief explanation and moved on. Or maybe she’d realized it was the only one she was going to get.
“So there’s this guy,” Cathy started, her eyes twinkling and Emily knew exactly where the conversation was going. In the four months they had been friends, Cathy had uttered that same phrase with much excitement at least six times. Three of those times the subject of her momentary obsession had turned out to be monumental dicks, one of the remaining three ended up being caught in a drug bust, and the other two were just too sweet and cuddly for the red head. Unlike her, Cathy liked a bit of danger with her men. Emily grabbed a fry and tuned out the more graphic description of her friend’s latest exploits. If he were anything like the last one, Cathy would move on in a couple of days. If she were still around by the weekend, she’d pay attention then. In the meantime, she left Cathy to talk while Emily stole her battered shrimp.
3
An hour later with her stomach full and nearly deaf from chatter, Emily let Cathy give her another bone-crunching hug. Cathy had tried to convince her to come out to a club with her that night, but Emily just wanted to go home. She promised to call Cathy before the weekend to hear all about her new boy toy and any new men she met that night. It was highly unlikely she’d actually do it, but promising to actually brought a smile to her face. Huh. Maybe she did need to get out more.
Even though she was in the middle of the city, the streets were quieter than where she’d grown up in New York. Only a few late-night joggers and a couple of stragglers passed her on the pavement. In the distance, she could hear the strumming of a guitar. The tune was familiar, she’d heard the busker play before and she found herself humming along as she rounded the corner. After listening to Cathy talk for over an hour walking home in the quiet night appealed to her much more than jumping on another crowded train.
She was just passing an alleyway entrance when a strangled moan met her ears. Emily froze in her tracks as the peace of the night broke again with another moan. The alley was dark, lit only by dim lighting coming from a building overhead. Why did no one ever install lights in the things?
She took a step toward the sound. “Hello?” she called, peering into the darkness.
“Hel-” came a strangled reply. She took a couple more steps into the alley, and then stopped again. Her blood froze as memories of the dream last night pushed into her mind. Nope, just a dream, and someone needed help. Still, something about this just didn’t feel right. A moan sounded out again and she pushed the thoughts aside. She was overreacting. A dream was just that, and someone could be seriously hurt. Someone had come to her aid when she’d been mugged. The least she could do is return the favor.
Holding her breath, she took another step forward, feeling ice creep up her spine despite her resolve. The darkness almost enveloped her, and so she took her phone out of her pocket to light her way.
Crap! That was exactly what she’d done in her dream.
Doesn’t mean anything. Does not mean anything. It just makes sense to do that. Yeah right, she wasn’t even convincing herself.
She remembered watching some true crime show on TV, back when she lived with her mother and could actually afford cable. Apparently the FBI used psychics and shit to solve murder cases. She had watched it with her grandmother as her mother sat across the room huffing every time she disagreed with the show. Which was about every five seconds.
This is not your dream. You're not crazy, and you’re definitely not psychic. Not with your luck.
Resolve strengthened, Emily slowly put one foot in front of the other as she made her way down to the back of the alley. Her eyes scanned the empty space. See! No dumpster.
Lying on the ground just ahead of her she could make out a dark shape lying face-down on the ground, and her heart rate picked up again. OK, she’d just take this carefully.
“Hey!” she called out to the figure, stopping a few feet away. The person moaned quietly. “Hey, you OK?” she asked again, but this time, no response came.
Fuck.
Just walk away. She could just turn around and then call 911, or go find some help. She didn’t need to go any further. This was already creeping her the hell out.
She’d just turned away when a feeble cry came from the ground. “Please…help…” Damn it. She couldn’t let someone die because she was scared of a stupid dream. Still, she could almost feel the steel of the knife plunging into her again. She stopped long enough to pull out a pocket knife from the bottom of her bag, the feel of it in her shaking hand calming her a little.
She walked a few more steps forward and gently prodded the prone figure with her foot. Nothing. “Hey, are you alright? Should I call for help?”
No answer came, and so she took another single step and, this time, prodded the body with her finger.
“He-”
The body —it was a huge man!—jumped up and tried to grab her hand. Still with her weight on her back foot, Emily snatched her hand away, her eyes catching the glint of a runic blade in the moonlight that slipped through the fall clouds. She turned and sprinted down the alley, but even in her flats, there was no way she could outrun a man of his size. She felt his long fingers wrap around her shoulder, digging into her flesh and he slammed her against a wall. Emily turned her head and saw the blade come up behind her as his hand moved to hold her neck and push her back against the wall. From the position of her head, she couldn’t see his face, but hot breath wafted against her neck and a snarl echoed in her ears.
No. This was not her dream. She would not die in this dirty stinking alley after trying to help some dickhead she thought was in trouble.
She went limp, and his grip loosened in premature confidence. As she moved, her left hand felt strange, and Emily realized she still held tight onto her pocket knife. She had just enough wiggle room to move her hand, and she jammed the blade into her attacker’s thigh as hard as she could.
“You bitch!”
His hands dropped away and Emily wasn’t sticking around for him to come to his senses. She turned and bolted, feeling a sharp sting across her shoulder as she pulled away. Looking back to see if he was still behind her, she slammed into the hood of an oncoming car, sliding down the side and landing on her ass on the road.
“Watch where you’re going!” the driver yelled out his car window, but then his face paled as she stood and turned around. “You’re bleeding. Here, get in the car and I’ll take you to the hospital.”
The driver touched her shoulders. Surprised by the sudden movement and the jolt of pain she felt at his touch, Emily slapped his hand away. “I’m fine, thanks anyway. I’ll see myself home.”
“If you’re sure then,” The driver shrugged and drove off, probably happy to avoid any liability for the accident. The excitement over, any other onlookers drifted away and Emily again became aware of how quiet the streets were. Except this time, it was definitely not comforting, the sting she still felt in her shoulder reminding her that her old habit of pushing everyone away was not the smartest thing she could have done tonight. She turned again and hurried toward the diner she’d left behind her only a few blocks ago.
“Emily, you’re back,” the owner Jack smiled at her as she pushed the diner door open a few moments later. His smile turned into concern when he saw her expression. He hustled her to a chair and poured her a glass of water. “Sit, sit. What’s the matter? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
He had no idea how close to the truth he was. She contemplated asking for a beer instead, but her hands shook as she picked up the glass. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea right now. Jack picked up the d
iner phone from the counter. “I’m calling Cathy.”
“No!” she called out, his eyebrows raising at the strength of her refusal. She loved the crazy chick, she really did, but she just couldn’t handle Cathy fussing over her right now, even if it would come out of love and concern. Plus, she’d make her leave the club, and her boy toy, early. She just needed to go home and hide away from the world for a while.
“I’m feeling OK now, and she had plans tonight.”
“At least let me drive you home.” Jack gathered up his keys and flipped the door sign to closed.
OK. That she could do. She didn’t want to admit it, but having Jack by her side as she stepped back onto the street kept her hands from shaking again as she felt the cool night air.
The drive was fast, and Jack insisted on waiting in the car at the curb while Emily made her way inside. The old wooden stairs creaked as she made her way up to her apartment’s front door, and her breath caught in her throat at every sound. The staircase usually had, at least, one teenager making himself at home, but at this hour, she was all alone.
The darkness that greeted her when she opened her apartment door was not even the slightest bit welcoming. She quickly moved through the rooms, turning on every light she could, before sitting down at her kitchen table. The shaking of her hands had returned, her body realizing what a narrow escape she’d had even if her brain wouldn’t acknowledge what had happened. It was too damn quiet. She turned on her TV, and grabbed some ice from her freezer, placing it in a plastic bag and wrapping it in a dish towel from her hall cupboard. Passing the mirror in the hall, Emily winced as she saw the red slash peeking out from her shirt. Her skin was already starting to bruise around the edges.
Crap. It really hadn’t been just a dream, either time.
She made the lap around her apartment again, this time checking the lock on every door and window. The back of her neck prickled, and not just from her injury. Safe, for now, she sat in front of the TV and held the makeshift ice pack to her shoulder. Looks like she wasn’t getting any sleep again tonight.
Emily (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Page 2
