She was stuck with Charlie. It had to be written in the stars. She’d told him three dozen times in the four block walk to the florist that she didn't need him around, that he could go back to the hotel, that she was fine on her own. But he refused to take a hint.
The worst part of it was that she wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. She knew that she should—he had proven to be a dangerous man, after all—but knowing something and feeling it were two different things. And the truth was, she was having a hell of a time getting him out of her head.
She'd wasted her time in the spa trying to figure out her feelings toward him. She felt some fear, sure. She wasn't used to guns or secret plans. But for some reason she wasn't scared of him. He'd been kind to her. He'd been helpful. He'd had every reason to be angry with her this morning for poking her nose into his stuff, but he hadn't been. He'd actually tried to calm her down.
So she'd wasted what should have been the most relaxing time before the wedding desperately trying to figure him out. After two hours, she still didn't have an answer. She'd been hoping that a nice long walk alone might bring some clarity, but then he'd appeared at her side.
She should be past letting him surprise her.
She opened the door of florist shop and found him exactly where she’d left him, leaning against a brick wall, watching the traffic go by. He turned his face toward her as she stepped outside.
“All done?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Was that all you needed to do?”
“Yeah.” She started walking back in the direction of the hotel. Within a few steps he was right back at her side.
“Do you want to get some lunch?” He gave her the same smile that he had given her in the lounge last night, the one that turned her knees to jelly and set her heart fluttering in her chest. She hadn't felt those things since she'd been sixteen and Carlos Diaz had put his arm around her at a party.
“There was an Ethiopian place that we passed on our way here that looked pretty good.”
“Um, I'm not sure,” she said.
“How's that? Either you're hungry or you're not.”
Beth stopped mid-stride and turned toward him. “Why do you want to have lunch with me?”
“I didn't know I needed a reason,” he said.
She sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, you do. And a good one, too. Because I want to know what the hell is going on here.”
“Nothing is going on,” he said.
“Like hell,” she said. “I don't know anything about you, Charlie. I don't even know your real name. All I do know is that you are armed, and have mysterious plans for the hotel that my best friend is getting married in this weekend. You're helping me with my silly little domestic problems, even though I can't figure out any way that it could possibly benefit you. And despite all of this, I can't seem to get you out of my head. So, yeah, I'm going to need a reason that I should be in your presence any more than I absolutely have to.”
“You can't stop thinking about me?” A grin pulled up the corners of his mouth.
Beth threw her hands up in the air. She turned away from him and strode in the direction of the hotel. She wouldn't slow down until she got there. Screw her pride. She'd hide out for the rest of the weekend in Isobel's room if she had to. Poor Jordan might find it a little awkward come Sunday night, but she was sure he'd understand once she explained.
Sorry Jordan, but your wedding night is going to have to wait since through a series of mind-blowingly bad decisions, I have passed off a felon as my boyfriend, and he's down in my room right now, planning God knows what.
Her humiliation would be complete.
“Beth,” his voice sounded a few feet behind her.
She ignored him and kept going. She stormed her way through the crowded sidewalk. She weaved in and out of the crowd, tears welling up in her eyes. Pity was a self-indulgent emotion, but if she'd ever been tempted to give in to it, now was the time.
Beth lifted her head just in time to see a man walking right toward her. She moved a few inches to the right. He mirrored her moves. Beth slowed her step. There was a look in the man’s eyes that disturbed her. Something wasn't right.
“Beth,” Charlie shouted. There was no annoyance in his voice now, only warning. Beth stopped cold. Something glinted in the man’s hand. The same glint she'd seen from Charlie's bag. He had a gun. And he was coming for her.
She didn't have time to run. He was only a couple of feet away. She didn't even have time to scream.
A second later, Beth was jarred hard to the left. Charlie's body slammed into her, shoving her into a small dark alley. She stumbled but kept her feet.
The alley was narrow, only big enough for a trash can to be pulled between two buildings. It was barely wide enough for her to see around Charlie.
He stood with his back to her at the entrance of the alley. His whole demeanor had changed. His shoulders were locked, his legs braced. He was ready for a fight.
He was trying to protect her, she realized.
The stupid man was going to get himself killed. You couldn't punch your way out of a gun fight. Even Beth knew that.
The man with the gun turned the corner, right into Charlie's path. Beth screamed out to warn him. She needn't have bothered.
Charlie's palm shot out and curled around the man's right wrist. He wrenched it back at an unnatural angle. The man's face contorted in pain, but he held tight to the weapon. Charlie pulled back farther, until there was a sickening crack of bone and tendon. Only then did the man's hand involuntarily drop the gun. It clattered on the pavement and slid into the drainage ditch by the side of the building.
Even with a badly broken wrist, the man still went after Charlie, punching with his left hand. Charlie ducked out of the way and the heel of his hand crashed against the man’s nose. Blood poured out, but the attacker still kept coming.
There was a lethal grace to Charlie's movements, and his attacker’s, as well. Fists flew faster than Beth could keep track of in the small, dark space. There was no wasted movement. No time to get a reaction wrong.
He's coming for me, she thought. It didn't make any sense. There was no reason. And yet she knew it as surely as anything. This man didn't just want to kill someone. He wanted to kill her. And if Charlie fell, he was going to.
But Charlie didn't fall. Beth watched in wonder as every punch Charlie threw connected.
The man stumbled back a few feet at Charlie's last blow. Both men had time to regroup. The attacker pulled out a shiny blade. Thin and four inches long, he held it in his palm like it was an extension of his hand. The next hit he connected to Charlie would kill him. The man smiled through the fountain of blood that poured down his face.
This fight was as good as over.
He rushed Charlie.
Charlie didn't flinch. He waited until the man barreling toward him was close, then he slid his back against the wall and used the man's own momentum against him. Charlie pushed against his attacker’s back. The man stumbled, unable to regain his balance. He fell past Charlie, stopping just short of Beth.
She skittered back until her back was against the wall at the back of the alley. She was trapped.
The man looked up. His eyes locked with hers. His mouth twisted up in a murderous grin. He rushed her.
Faster than Beth could blink, Charlie wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. With one sickening twist, her attacker’s head snapped to the side. A vacant look instantly filled his eyes, and his body went slack. His dead weight slumped to the ground.
Beth stared. That didn't just happen. It couldn't have.
She pressed her spine against the jagged brick wall at her back, desperate to get away from the body.
A body. Dear God, there was a dead body in front of her. Dead eyes looked past her, but she couldn't look away.
“Beth.”
She barely heard her name. It sounded like it was coming from far away. Her knees began to buckle. She didn't want to fall. If she did, she’d
fall on top of it.
Oh God.
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a rush of air that sputtered at the end.
“Are you all right?” Charlie grasped her upper arms, forcing her to meet his gaze. She kept staring at the dead man. Charlie gave her a little shake when she didn't answer. “Are you hurt?”
She looked up at him. There was concern in his eyes. Concern and something else. Fear. He was afraid she'd been hurt.
The concern confused her more than anything. He'd just killed a man, right in front of her. And he'd done it with a kind of graceful efficiency that told her this wasn't the first time he'd done such a thing.
“Beth?”
She shook her head. “I-I'm not hurt,” she said.
He looked her up and down once before trusting her words. Only then did he let her go.
“Don't look at him, Beth,” Charlie said calmly. “Look at me.”
Beth snapped her eyes back to Charlie’s face and kept them there.
“Y-you killed him.” Her lips struggled to form the words.
“I did,” he said. He put his hand out to her. It was covered in blood. “You’re safe now.”
“You killed him,” she repeated, louder this time.
He held his finger up to his lips. She glanced behind him. Just beyond was a city street, filled with sunlight and people. Someone could walk by at any moment. Someone could look down the alley and catch them with a dead body.
“I had to. He was going to kill you, Beth.”
She shook her head frantically. “Why? Why would anyone want to kill me?” The words tumbled out of her. She didn't expect an answer, and he didn't give one.
“Breathe,” he told her. “Sit down if you need to.”
Beth nodded. She derived a strange sense of calm from the orders that he gave her. Someone else was in charge, and she didn't have to figure out what to do. She only had to listen. There was no reason in her brain right now. There was only the haunting image of life flickering out of the dead man's eyes.
She slid down the wall until her legs were tucked underneath her.
“I need to move him,” Charlie said. His words floated in and out of Beth's head. “You might want to look away.”
Beth nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Charlie as he grabbed the dead man by the arms. He pulled him easily around the corner. With barely a grunt, he lifted the large man into the dumpster and arranged some garbage bags over him. Then he pulled out his phone. He pressed a single button and waited.
He spoke softly into the phone. Beth didn't catch every word he said, but it sounded like he was giving someone their location. After that there were some words she didn't understand, then a series of letters and numbers. Beth didn't try too hard to make sense of it.
A minute later, he came over and held out his hand. She stared at it. He'd wiped off most of the blood, but there was still some buried in the creases of his palm and underneath his fingernails.
“Beth,” he prompted her, breaking her out of her dark thoughts. “I need to get you out of here.”
Her hand was openly shaking as she slid it into his. He pulled her up, and tucked her against his side.
Beth winced as the light hit her eyes, making it almost impossible to see in the bright, midday sun. She hadn't been in the alley for more than a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.
“Shouldn't we call the police?” she asked, once her brain had caught up.
“I've already taken care of it,” he said. The phone call. Of course he had.
He started walking, pulling her behind him on the sidewalk.
“Shouldn't we wait until they get here?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. There might be more men. They might be watching us right now.”
Beth's heart pounded. He didn’t have to clarify who he meant. More men who wanted to attack her. They could be around every corner. But why would they be? It didn't make any sense. None of this did.
She stumbled, and he pulled her closer. She leaned against him, her legs like jelly, letting him take the brunt of her weight. He didn't seem to mind.
“It's just the adrenaline,” he said. “You'll be fine in a little while.”
She nodded because she couldn't think of anything else to do. The people passing by paid them no attention. They didn't seem to notice the flecks of blood that dotted Charlie's jacket, or her shaking legs.
“It's only another couple of blocks back to the hotel,” he said. “You're going to make it.”
Of course she would. What choice did she have? She couldn't break down in the middle of the street, just because her entire life had just changed back in that alley. She’d watched a man die. She’d been part of it.
She couldn't think about that. Right now, all she had to do was concentrate on keeping one foot in front of the other.
Somehow she managed.
Then she had to get up to the fourth floor. She pulled away from Charlie and hurried through the lobby. She didn't care anymore if anyone thought that something was wrong with her.
All she wanted to be was safe in her room, reasonably certain that no one with a gun or knife would be coming through the locked door. She took the stairs. There was no way that she was waiting for the elevator. Charlie kept pace with her. She didn't stop until every lock on the door was bolted behind her.
Then the tears came. She wasn't even aware of them at first. It wasn’t until her shoulders started shaking that she realized she was crying.
Her legs gave out underneath her and she crumpled onto the floor. In an instant, Charlie was there, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in close, just like he'd done when he was helping her back to the hotel. Just like he'd been every moment since she'd walked into the hotel. Charlie was there.
Chapter 6
The Wedding Trap Page 10
