Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1)

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Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1) Page 8

by Holly S. Roberts


  My day is fairly productive. I give the bad news to the CEO and check my bank account an hour later. The CEO transferred my final payment and I’m flush for two solid months. It’s a first for me since getting my PI license, and I’m hopeful for the future. Late in the afternoon, I treat myself to a Caesar salad and delicious hard crusted roll from the Wildflower Bread Company off North Hayden Road. After a short wait, I land a small table inside. Nine months out of twelve you can sit outside and enjoy the day. Not in the summer.

  I’m finished with half my salad when I get a strange tingling on the back of my neck. Cops don’t disregard these feelings. I slide my gaze around the restaurant. Hell, it’s Kennedy. He’s leaning against an inside pillar and staring straight at me. When he sees I’ve noticed him, he tips his chin up and walks out.

  Damn, damn, damn. This was a threat and it won’t mean anything to the police. Kennedy followed me here and made sure I noticed him. I’m pissed off and leave my uneaten salad and roll on the table. I get behind Sally’s steering wheel and browse through my contacts until I locate Al’s number.

  “Yea?” he answers after two rings.

  “This is Mak. You can tell Kennedy to fuck off.” I hang up and head back to my apartment. It takes another workout to calm me down. I enter my apartment with my gun drawn and search it. If Kennedy wants to play hardball, I won’t be missing the pitch.

  After a shower and a short foray through television channels, I head to bed. It’s been a long day, and I fall asleep without using the purple wonder. Moon’s blue, piercing gaze flashes through my thoughts as darkness takes me away.

  I grab for my ringing cell phone sometime later. I look at the clock on my nightstand while answering. It’s one in the morning, and I’m trying like crazy to clear the fog from my brain.

  “Mak, you need to help me…”

  I don’t recognize the voice right away.

  “Mak, please.”

  It’s Penny Dandridge. “What’s wrong, Penny?” I ask her softly. She sounds desperate and it helps clear my foggy thoughts.

  “I need you to pick me up,” she says between tears while gasping for breath.

  This isn’t good, and I’m rethinking a cement foundation for her soon-to-be ex-husband.

  “Okay, have you called the police?”

  “No police.” Pure distress is clear in her answer. “Don’t call them, please. I just need you to pick me up.”

  Well, hell. I will most likely change my mind and call the police after I discover what condition she’s in. “Are you safe?”

  “Ye…yes. I’m safe. I’m in Heber. At the cabin in Heber. I need, just need a ride.”

  “Okay,” I get up and head to my desk. “Give me your address. It’ll take about two hours to get there.” I scribble the address.

  “Thank you, Mak… I’m so sorry.” She hangs up. Her voice sounded incredibly sad. I, on the other hand, am pissed off. If I had my hands on Harry Dandridge right now, he’d be eating my fist. I know the son of a bitch hurt her and I’m determined that he’ll pay for it with more than money. For once, I’m thankful I’m no longer a cop. There is no way I could have helped Penny back then. This situation would require me going straight to my supervisor and the closest authorities being notified to go to the cabin. I know I should call the police, but Penny is my friend and I’ll give her what she wants for now.

  I dress quickly and I’m out the door ten minutes later. I need to thank Moon for tuning up Sally, and that doesn’t help my anger at the moment. Sally couldn’t have made this trip in her less-than-stellar condition.

  I jump on I-17 and turn on the radio while I try to settle in for the two-hour road trip. I know it’s going to be a long night.

  Chapter Twelve

  MY HEADLIGHTS GLOW AGAINST the winding road as I reach the rim of the White Mountains. I’ve taken this route before and it’s beautiful in daylight. That is, if you aren’t driving. If you’re behind the wheel, you need to keep your eyes on the road. Now that I’ve calmed a bit and had a chance to think, bells are going off in my head. It’s the tone of Penny’s voice when she apologized that seems off. I slow Sally a bit as I reach another winding section of highway and notice headlights gaining on me. The vehicle has stayed about two hundred yards back since I hit State Route 260. Now, it’s gaining speed. Yes, I’ve slowed a bit, but this is a dangerous stretch of highway. Thankfully, there are two lanes and he can go around me. He comes up fast and I’m blinded by his bright lights. What an asshole.

  I’m astonished when the car hits Sally. I’m thrown forward at impact and then bounce back. The steering wheel is ripped from my fingers and things go into slow motion. There are no guardrails on this section of highway and I’m airborne. Sally’s wheels hit the ground and she continues speeding downhill. I’m tossed up and down. We bounce and thud while careening down the side of the mountain. There’s a sheer drop coming up and I have no way of stopping what’s about to happen. Thankfully, a tree has that ability. Metal grinds and glass shatters on collision. The power of the crash lifts me up and back. The front airbags finally activate. Even with the seat belt secured and the airbags, my head slams into the headrest behind me followed by my face bouncing against the steering wheel. Because of the seat belt, I have no air left in my lungs. Stars burst around my peripheral vision and in the center there’s a black hole. It takes forever before I manage to suck air into my lungs. My headlights cast a shadowed glow straight ahead of me. The drop-off looms about ten feet in front of Sally.

  I wipe my face with my forearm and see that I’m bleeding from a wound that I don’t yet feel. Maybe several wounds. I take quick stock of my injuries by slowly moving my arms and legs. My bad shoulder took a lot of punishment, but I’ll live. I save my neck for last. I slowly turn and look to the left and then to the right. I expel a breath when I can safely move it in all directions. The inside of the car is mostly dark with just the dash lights casting a dim glow. I feel around for my phone and begin to panic when I can’t locate it.

  “Breathe,” I tell myself out loud. I need to think clearly. I glance at the glove box and relief washes over me when I remember that Moon’s phone is in there.

  Smoke is rising from Sally’s engine and it swirls hazily through the headlights. I don’t smell gasoline, which is a blessing. I try to support myself while unbuckling the seat belt so I don’t fall forward. It doesn’t work. My chest hits the steering wheel and takes the brunt of my sudden freedom. I breathe slowly and roll sideways a bit so I can see the glove box. I reach over and hit the latch that opens it. Everything is pushed to the back, and I lean over to reach the phone. My fingers are shaking uncontrollably when they close around it. I pull it out and quickly bring it to my chest. This phone is my lifeline.

  My head throbs and I’m beginning to feel the effects of my face meeting the steering wheel. This doesn’t keep me from adding together the facts of what just happened. It’s clear that I was intentionally rammed and driven off the road. I check the gun at my waist to assure myself it’s there. I push my tee behind the stock so I can pull it easily. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know I’ve been set up. Worse… they have Penny. She made the call because someone was threatening her. My stomach twists, but I don’t have time to worry about Penny right now. I’m in danger and I need to focus on getting out of the car and finding cover.

  If the person who hit me comes down here, I’m a sitting duck and they can easily finish what they started. This is related to Kennedy, of that I have no doubt. Funny that I’m hanging with a known criminal and he is nowhere on my suspect list. He has no reason to want me out of the picture. It’s Kennedy. If I call 911, Kennedy or whoever he sent will have a police radio and they’ll know their attempt to kill me was unsuccessful. The odds are that the bad guys will be closer than the highway patrol or Department of Public Safety as they’re known in Arizona. In the mountains, DPS is called out of bed if there’s an accident, and it will take some time before they get here.

  I
turn and try to judge how far I traveled before hitting the tree. A hundred yards, maybe. I doubt Kennedy or his crew will come down here, but I can’t be sure. Blood runs into my eyes and I swipe it away. I don’t have time to stop the bleeding. I need to find a safe place and hunker down before I worry about the small details. I remind myself that my body has almost two liters of blood it can spare. My wounds are a long way from that… I hope.

  I shove Moon’s phone deep in the front pocket of my BDUs. Nothing impedes the door opening and it swings forward, which is actually downward because of the angle Sally slammed the tree. The giant squeal the door makes is loud and the interior lights turn on. I need to get as far from the car as I can as quickly as possible. I give a short prayer that whoever hit Sally is long gone.

  The car is jammed into the tree about a foot up. I feel nothing but air when I try to touch one foot down. I slither in my seat a bit more and finally touch ground. Using the door frame for balance, I swat the airbags away and slide completely out while looking around. The headlights cast a faint glow to the surrounding area. I try to turn them off but they’re stuck in the on position. I need to be completely out of their sphere. I can barely make out a thick line of trees and bushes in the distance. A normal person would head up. I don’t. I head to the left where the denser area is while staying clear of the drop off. I’m unsteady on my feet and do everything I can to remain upright. I make too much noise because of the dried leaves, so I stop every ten yards or so and listen. The bushes are farther away than they looked. It seems to take forever to reach them. I crouch low and quickly burrow in. Once I feel hidden, I turn around to scan the area between me and Sally. I think I’m about fifty yards to the right of her. I un-holster my gun and keep my hands pulled in close to my chest and the barrel pointing in Sally’s direction. I remain still and listen for odd noises. I glance upward toward the highway as headlights shine from above. The lights don’t slow down and I’m hoping this means the bad guys aren’t pulled over on the side of the road with plans to come look for me. If a car was pulled over, other cars would slow. At least this is what my fuzzy brain puts together.

  I use my left hand to lift my shirt and wipe at my eyes, which are blurry from the blood and probably the hit to my head. My entire body is overcome by shaking. My teeth chatter as I try desperately to control the shock that’s setting in. I take out Moon’s phone and offer a silent prayer that I have signal. I can’t make out the small indicator at the top of the phone. “Don’t panic, don’t panic,” I recite. I go to contacts and see the one and only person listed. It’s after three in the morning and I hold my breath after pressing the screen. I leave a bloody fingerprint behind as I lift my finger off the phone. “Please have a signal, please pick up,” I whisper.

  “Madison?” he asks groggily.

  Relief swamps me and I try not to cry. This does no good and tears of relief fall from my eyes. “I’m hurt,” is all I can manage to say and even that’s shaky.

  “Shh,” Moon whispers. His voice is my lifeline and I only cry harder. “Where are you?”

  Another round of trembling hits me. I suck air into my lungs and try to control myself enough to speak. “Between Payson and Heber…” My teeth continue to chatter and once again, I breathe. “I’m about a hundred yards down the side of the mountain.”

  “Jesus.” I hear movement and then my eyes jump left and right in case whoever did this has decided to come after me.

  “How bad are you hurt?” he finally asks. The words are filled with concern, though I can hear the suppressed anger behind them.

  I concentrate on Moon’s question and manage to speak coherently. “Bleeding. It’s a head wound. I went over right after the second s-turn about fifteen minutes or so outside of Payson.”

  His voice changes from concern to deadly. “Have you called the police?”

  I hiccup and cry harder. Fuck, but I need to control myself. It’s killing me mentally that I should be able to call the police. In trouble? Need help? Call police. It’s the code I’ve always lived by.

  “No, too dangerous,” is what I answer.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Panic slices through me. “Don’t hang up, Moon.”

  I hear someone at Moon’s end talking in the background, but Moon keeps his attention on me. The anger leaves his voice as he says, “I need you to do something for me, Madison.”

  I inhale deeply and slowly release the air from my lungs. “Okay,” I respond after I’ve calmed myself again.

  “You need to hang up and activate the phone’s locate feature. Can you do that for me?”

  I don’t want to hang up. I want him talking in my ear and reassuring me everything will be okay. A small spark of angst clicks in my brain. I’m stronger than this. Why the hell am I reacting this way? Moon’s right. I need to activate the phone so he can find me.

  “Madison?”

  “Yes. I can do that.” My voice is stronger now.

  “Call me back as soon as it’s done. Alex is driving and I’ll stay on the phone with you until we’re there.”

  “Okay… thank you, Moon.”

  “Hang up now and do it.” His voice remains soft, but there’s a touch of command in it. It’s how I dealt with trauma victims when I worked the streets. This makes me smile slightly as I disconnect.

  The second I do, there’s a faint ruffling of leaves between me and Sally and I freeze. I keep my gun aimed in front of me and watch for movement. Several minutes goes by without a sound. Whatever it was, I don’t think it was human. I attempt to change the phone’s settings. It isn’t easy with how hard I’m shaking. I curse as I try to navigate through all the settings. My brain isn’t fully functional, and turning on the locate feature is not nearly as easy as turning it off. I wipe my eyes to clear them again and finally, I’m able to swipe the correct sequence of controls.

  I take a minute to mentally prepare myself for what’s ahead. Moon is more than an hour away; closer to two, really. I can do this for two hours, I silently tell myself. Not that I have a choice. I’m safe for now and I have my gun if that changes. I will survive this and kick some ass later.

  I call Moon.

  “Hey, baby,” he says sweetly. I know he’s trying to keep me calm, and it works. “We have your location.” He hesitates. “Have you charged the phone recently?”

  Fuck, I haven’t. I’m lucky the damn thing works at all. “No,” I answer, and I’m heartsick.

  Moon’s voice doesn’t reveal that this is a problem. “Okay. We’re going to plan B and using text messages. Every ten minutes you send a quick text. I’ll find you even if the phone goes dead. I promise.” I absolutely believe him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I swallow my tears back. “I’m good.” I am. I can do this. I went to the police academy for eighteen and a half weeks of pure hell. Day after day of constant stress. If I can do that, I can do anything. “Hurry,” I whisper and disconnect.

  Branches are poking me and I’m squatting, which is causing my legs to cramp. I crawl out of the bushes so I can rest my back against a tree a few feet away. The area is dark and I don’t think anyone can see me without a flashlight. The cell has about one-fourth of its battery left. I can’t check the time without using additional power, which is going to be a problem. My thoughts drift when I try to count down the minutes. When I check the time, I have four minutes to go. I send my first text early.

  You text me every ten minutes. One-fourth charge left.

  Will do.

  His reply was immediate and I feel reassured. I close my eyes and separate the sounds of the night. Some kind of small critter scurries around through the pine needles about twenty feet away. Every so often, I hear the tires of an occasional vehicle on the road above me. I try to not think about my pounding head or my muscles, which are beginning to ache. Time drags and I want to check the phone so bad because it seems like thirty minutes have passed. My eyes are open when the screen lights up.

  You good?

&
nbsp; Yes.

  And that’s how it goes for more than an hour. Each message, though short, reconfirms that Moon is on his way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  VOICES PULL ME FROM sleep. I tighten my grip on my gun and lift it. The phone lights up in my other hand.

  I’m here.

  I wait until I actually hear him. At the sound of his voice, my body goes lax. I need to stand, but I’m unable to send the message to my legs. “Moon,” I groan. Flashlights are fanned out in four directions and they zero in on the sound of my croaky voice. Moon gets to me first and goes to his knees beside me. I wince when the flashlights blind me.

  “Move the lights off her,” Moon snaps. All but the one he’s holding move away. He tips his down. Bad cop, I want to tell him. Always limit their vision. I’m not a cop, though, and Moon most definitely isn’t either.

  “Speak to me, baby.” He pushes the hair from my face.

  I feel nauseated and I only manage to mumble this information. He must understand because he wraps his arm around my chest and keeps me from falling face first into vomit as my guts heave onto the ground beside me. He offers a soothing chorus of words until he calls me “baby” again.

  “Don’t call me that,” I say stupidly. It’s the shame of him holding me while I toss my cookies. On the brighter side, I can’t be too bad off if I feel embarrassment.

  He wipes my mouth with a cloth, and I hope it isn’t his shirt. “Close your eyes. I need to check your head,” he says softly while I respond like a pile of jelly in his arms. My arms and legs are not obeying me, but closing my eyes against the light is easy. I concentrate on not vomiting again while Moon examines whatever injury he’s concerned about. I’m tired, achy, and still nauseated. I wince when he touches my forehead.

 

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