by Jodie Bailey
She met him full bore, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, more relaxed than she’d ever been, giving him something from deep inside that no one else had ever given him. This was different, a rightness he’d never felt before, dissolving the walls he’d built around his own heart, burning away the lie he’d been telling himself. He couldn’t punish himself for someone else’s mistakes, couldn’t take on someone else’s lessons as his own.
He was meant for Kristin. It washed over him in a peace like no other, and he let go of everything except her.
She gasped and dropped her hands between them, shoving with all of her strength, pushing him away.
The world rushed in. He might be firmly in his right mind, but she wasn’t, and he might have cut her even deeper. Before he could speak, she backed away. With a wild, hunted look, she turned on her heel and ran for her vehicle like she was afraid he’d chase her, leaving him cold on the trail.
NINE
Kristin rammed a fist into the solid leather of the punching bag and relished the impact shuddering her arm. She whacked it with a right cross then caught it with her left fist for good measure, watching the heavy bag come to center before she retreated and swiped her taped hand over her forehead.
She was either bashing in the head of the guy who’d tried to take her down or kicking her own self in the teeth. She wasn’t sure which. The one certainty was the way physical motion sure did her good.
Shaking out her hands, Kristin bounced on her toes, trying to keep warm in the chilled basement. Man, she hated reacting to Lucas. Hated she’d let him kiss her.
She smashed the bag with four quick jabs. She hadn’t let him do anything. She’d practically kissed him herself. Overwrought with the events of the past few days, exhausted from lack of sleep...there were a whole lot of things Kristin could blame this morning on, but the reality was something totally different.
Kissing Lucas had been about a lot more than an intense week of emotions. The ones that had sucker punched her on the trail were feelings she’d never felt before. Lucas had touched something in her heart no one else had ever come close to. She’d opened herself to him, let him see the Kristin James she hid from everyone else. All because he’d made her feel like emotional intimacy was not only a real thing, but something to crave.
She hated him for it.
Except she didn’t.
This was the problem. This intensity was the other side of the same coin, the kind of emotion that had stolen her mother’s rationality, the kind of emotion that wrecked lives.
He probably thought she ran because she was scared.
He’d be right.
Coward.
She was definitely scared. Terrified, even. Terrified she’d kiss him again and lose herself forever.
Kristin drove another blow into the bag for good measure then quit for the night, the bag squeaking back and forth in the aftermath of her assault. It had been an hour, and she was done. Her muscles shuddered with fatigue.
Frustration and fear had driven the workout too hard, had intensified the pain in her shoulder blade. With her adrenaline ebbing, an ibuprofen, a shower and bed sounded like the best things in the world, even though decent sleep was probably a fairy tale.
She hauled up the stairs into the kitchen for some water, the old wooden steps creaking beneath her feet. Grasping the edge of the tape on her left hand, Kristin started to unwind it, but a small noise from the front of the house made her pause. It sounded like the old hardwoods on the front porch creaked.
She rewrapped her hand, listening. Could have been the house settling. Ever since she’d moved in two years ago, there were moments when she was certain she heard footsteps in the hallway, only to realize it was the old house turning in for the night.
Flipping on the light, she was half-ashamed of the way the pushback against the darkness eased her anxiety. The incidents of the past few days had left her skittish, something she never let herself be before. Forget it. She’d faced more than her share of fears and could take care of herself, especially from a few settling boards and creaking floors.
Silence took over, and she ran some water into a glass, hand shaking with muscle fatigue, but when she shut off the tap, she heard it again. Slow. Deliberate. Like footsteps creaking across the porch.
Kristin set the glass on the granite counter and kept her eyes on the sink drain, listening, trying to determine if there was really a problem or if her imagination was taking a walk on the paranoid side. A series of thuds, then the alarm keypad beeped its insistent need for a disarm code.
Someone had opened her front door.
Kristin balled her fist, anger ripping through her. It was one thing to attack her on a trail and think he could manhandle her into whatever it was he’d wanted. It was another to invade her yard and steal her brother’s car. But to come into her house? Her sanctuary? The one place she’d built as her safe place? This was a whole other animal entirely.
Clenching and unclenching her fists, muscles aching and skin tightening with a combination of dread and adrenaline, Kristin turned, prepared to burst into the living room to face the danger head-on, hoping against hope whoever had invaded her space was unarmed.
Instead, she found herself faced off against a figure in the doorway leading to the dining room. A tall, broad-shouldered man in jeans and a black sweatshirt was watching her. He watched her with the same dark eyes she’d stared down on the trail. The hard set of his jaw beneath a dark ski mask sent shivers along Kristin’s neck.
Something about the way he looked at her said he hadn’t forgotten what she’d done to him the first time. Tonight he’d be a much more formidable foe.
With her body drained from her overdone workout, she couldn’t hold him off, either. Kristin darted a quick glance toward the door, judging the distance and whether or not she could turn the bolt and get out before he could catch her. Running wasn’t her first choice, but she’d be a fool to stand her ground and fight when his expression said he wasn’t inclined to show mercy.
His gaze darted after hers, and before she could react, he’d launched himself across the small kitchen, driving Kristin’s hip into the edge of the granite counter and whipping her head against the cabinet above. Lights danced across her vision as her entire body absorbed the pain of impact. Before she could even gather herself to fight, the man wrenched her to the floor as the house alarm began to blare.
Crashing onto the hardwood knees first, Kristin pitched forward and cracked her chin on the floor, tasting blood, enduring physical pain like she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager...worse, even. Her father had been a brute, but he’d always held something back. This guy wasn’t anywhere close to pulling punches. He was all in.
Kristin tensed against another blow and rolled onto her back to find her attacker standing over her with his fists balled. She drove her foot up, but the angle produced a weak blow that glanced off his thigh.
He lunged at her again, and she rolled to the side, but the narrow space between the cabinets and the stove didn’t leave her enough room to get away.
Her awkward position gave her attacker the advantage. He drove a knee into her lower back, shoving her hips against the kitchen counter and pressing her face into the floor, grinding her cheek into the hardwood.
There was no fight left, no good exit.
The man leaned lower, his knee grinding into the small of her back, his breath hot on her face. He cursed and hefted himself up, jerking her to her feet. “Shut off the alarm. Now. Then tell me where Kyle hid everything.”
* * *
Lucas shoved out the front door and raced across the street as Kristin’s burglar alarm fell silent. She’d have words for him if it was a false alarm, but he couldn’t take the chance.
He’d risked staying inside tonight as the temperature dropped. She�
�d warned him away from her after their kiss, before she slammed into her SUV and roared off, leaving him weak-kneed and hating himself for pushing her too far. He’d trusted her house alarm would summon him, but now? Now fear and adrenaline pumped through him.
The story of her mother’s murder fresh in his nightmares, Lucas pushed harder. He might already be too late.
The front door stood open, and Lucas barreled through, stopping in the middle of the small living room to get his bearings, praying Kristin was okay.
A grunt and a thud came from the kitchen, and Lucas’s feet pounded the floor as he bolted that way, stopping only long enough to survey the scene.
A man held Kristin against the wall by the alarm keypad, hand pressing against her head with a fury that said he might kill her...if he hadn’t already. His back was to Lucas, and he leaned close to Kristin, obviously assessing the situation and trying to decide the best way to finish the mess he’d started.
White-hot anger charged through Lucas, crowding past and present together. Her father had wounded her body and soul. This guy didn’t get to do the same. Lucas crossed the room in three strides, grabbed the man’s dark shirt and hauled him to his feet, then hurled him away from Kristin.
Her attacker’s face smashed into the kitchen cabinet, cracking the thin wood of the door. He roared and staggered to the side, whipping around as Lucas regrouped, prepared to go to battle and win.
Kristin’s assailant turned, hostility flashing in his eyes, then fled the kitchen, his feet pounding across the living room floor toward the front door before Lucas could comprehend what had happened.
He’d been expecting a full-on assault, not the enemy’s retreat. Lucas followed as far as the door, stopping when he heard an engine race away from a nearby side street. The ensuing silence roared in his ears. Jogging to the kitchen, he reached for his phone, remembering too late it was on the end table next to the couch. A quick survey of the room showed Kristin didn’t have a house phone, at least not one in the kitchen.
None of that mattered right now. Before he did anything else, he had to know she was all right, that whoever the man in her house was, he hadn’t done permanent damage.
Kristin stood, leaning heavily against the small desk she used as her office. She swept away Lucas’s offers of help and punched a code on the alarm keypad to rearm the device.
“Lucas?” She sank against the door and slid to the floor, her voice losing almost all volume. “Where did you come from?”
He dropped to his knees beside her, assessing her injuries as best he could without touching her. Blood streamed from a cut on her cheek. Her fingernails were broken and chipped where she’d clawed at the floor. But she was alert, even if she was still glaring at him like he was responsible for this whole thing.
They could sort it all out later. Right now, he needed to find a phone and get the police, an ambulance, help...
She pushed away from him, scooting sideways, gauging the distance between herself and the door. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, watching him warily as her fingers kneaded her hip and she tried to shake off what appeared to be encroaching shock. Finally, she steadied herself. “I asked what you’re doing here.” Her voice was stronger, even though pain drew tight lines around her eyes and mouth.
“I heard your alarm go off.” He lowered himself so he could see her eye to eye and eased toward her, the same way he’d approach a wounded animal. “I chased off whoever did this to you, but he had a car waiting. Where’s your cell phone? I need to call the police and an ambulance. You shut the alarm off too fast for the alarm company to call.”
“You beat the guy so bad he needs medical help?”
“The ambulance is for you.”
“No.”
Even though Kristin James had run from him like he was evil incarnate after they kissed this morning, his feelings hadn’t calmed down. All Lucas wanted to do was to make sure nobody hurt her again. Instead, he aimed for tough guy, hoping the act would calm his rattled emotions and shake some sense into her. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” Kristin shifted painfully and moved to stand, then sank to the floor. “Give me a second.”
Two minutes ago, when he’d seen her lying on the floor, he’d thought his heart couldn’t hammer any faster. He was wrong. It was triple-timing on him now. She was hurting, and there was nothing he could do about it. “You’re going to the hospital.”
The look she gave him should have frozen his blood. He’d seen her eyes flash a lot of different emotions, but never one that iced them quite as much as this one.
“You know better,” Kristin said. Swiping at her cheek, she seemed surprised to see blood on her fingers. She eased herself to her feet, then headed for the living room. “I said I’d be fine and I meant it. Please...leave me alone.”
Well, that wasn’t happening. She might hate him for the way he’d lost his mind and kissed her this morning, but she didn’t get to pretend she hadn’t kissed him back. And she didn’t get to brush this off. If she wouldn’t let him call an ambulance, then the least he was doing was calling the cops. But they could argue in a minute. Lucas jumped to his feet and followed her. “Where are you going?”
“To get the first-aid kit.” She never turned, just kept walking, aiming a finger at the front door as she passed. “There’s your way out.”
Had she cracked her head when she hit the floor? She was going to go upstairs and act like nothing happened? As far as either of them knew, the bad guys were close by, waiting for Lucas to leave.
If she wouldn’t give him a phone, he’d go home while she was upstairs and get his, but he was calling the police, whether she trusted their help or not. She didn’t get to put herself in danger like this for any reason, especially when whatever had gotten her brother killed now dogged her. Not when he was more certain with every passing second he didn’t want to live in a world without her in it. “Kristin.”
“Lucas.” She stopped with her foot on the third stair and turned toward him, one hand on the railing. “When are you going to understand I don’t need to fall for you?” She turned away and eased her way up the rest of the stairs, the sound of a door slamming the end punctuation on her question.
He stood staring after her, stunned as much as if the guy he’d chased out of her kitchen had socked him square in the nose. She’d cut him as surely as if she’d drawn a knife.
She was feeling the same things he was, so why did she deny it so fiercely?
Honestly, the question ought to be why he bothered to help a woman who didn’t want him.
The answer was he was falling for her, too. Harder than he ever should have been.
He tapped his finger against his thigh, then turned on one heel and stalked out the front door.
TEN
The whole house shuddered when Lucas slammed the front door.
Kristin dug her fingers into the edge of the granite counter in the tiny hall bathroom and stared at the mirror, breathing out a sigh she told herself was relief, but she knew better. Deep inside where she refused to acknowledge it, a tiny sliver of something was terrified there was a masked man lurking in the shadows, waiting to invade her space and beat her worse than the time before.
The muscles in her fingers ached from holding on to the counter. Whoever the man was, he might have succeeded in killing her tonight if Lucas hadn’t come in. He’d acted as if he wanted to. She could refuse to let herself fall for Lucas and still find herself dead at the hands of a man out of control. A violent tremble started in her middle and radiated through her, the fear tangible and hot.
Whoever this man was, he had walked into her house and thrown her around like a rag doll. Her father had done that, and she’d vowed to be strong enough, brave enough, to never let it happen again.
Tonight, she hadn’t been strong eno
ugh to fight. Had let herself be ordered into turning off her alarm before taking the punishment again. Had broken in the face of an overwhelming physical force that dredged up her past and slammed her to the ground as certainly as her attacker had.
Kristin leaned heavier on the sink, the weight of emotion pulling her lower. As much as she wanted to pretend this wasn’t getting to her, it was. Being attacked on the trail was one thing. Having an intruder invade her home was another.
She pushed away from the counter, jerked the bottom cabinet door open and pulled out a first-aid kit. The alcohol pad she pressed against the cut on her cheek burned enough to make her forget the pain in her hip, but the sting dragged tears with it. She grabbed a bandage, but her fingers were shaking.
Someone had come after her. Had violated her home, bested her and planned to do who knew what if Lucas hadn’t arrived. She sank against the wall and slid to the floor, pressing her fingers against her eyes to stop the tears threatening to overwhelm her. What was going on? Who wanted to hurt her and why? She could take care of herself, no doubt, but if he kept coming...if the next time there was more than one...
Nausea pulsed harder. She curled tighter, planting her head between her knees, blood smearing on the fabric of her leggings.
Blood. Her blood. Brought on by a man who had no business being in her house in the first place, no right to lay one hand on her.
Kristin wanted to bolt down the stairs and out the front door, to beg Lucas to stay on her couch, to let him call the police despite her belief it would do no good after what had happened to her mother.
Having to be rescued at all was too much. He’d become her hero, her knight in shining armor. Something she had never needed or wanted.
Except maybe she did.
Tripping headfirst into feelings for Lucas Murphy was one thing. Kissing him was another. Telling him she might be falling for him? Stupid.
