Critical Instinct

by Crouch, Janie

  “Yes, I appreciate Paige’s invite,” Brett said, his smile for the other two people warm and genuine. “This is my first art show, and it has been nothing short of fantastic. But I’ve monopolized her long enough; I know she probably has other duties she’s needed for.”

  Hunter’s over-protective zeal melted away. “There are people who want to talk to her. Some have traveled quite a distance to be here.”

  “I don’t doubt it at all.” Brett smiled at her then leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll call you soon. I’m going to wander around for a little while longer, but I won’t keep you from business you need to conduct. Goodnight, everyone.”

  Paige murmured goodnight, but Hunter and Melissa seemed too shocked to say anything at all. All three turned and watched him walk down the stairs and across the gallery from their vantage point in the loft.

  “Oh my gosh, Paige has a suitor,” Hunter said as Brett disappeared from view around a corner.

  “A suitor?” Paige laughed at the word.

  “That’s the perfect word for it,” Melissa agreed.

  “He’s just a friend. We knew each other in high school. I’m not sure he’s even interested.” It had been a long time since Paige had read signals from a man. Maybe Brett’s actions tonight were more casual than she’d interpreted.

  The thought made everything around her feel colder and grayer. Paige turned away from the balcony rail and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt Brett’s card still in her hand. Should she even keep it?

  But then she heard both Hunter and Melissa chuckling. They turned around also and linked arms with Paige on either side.

  “Oh honey,” Melissa said. “I’ll never be able to see and paint colors the way you do, but I know what a man looks like when he wants a woman. And believe me, Brett Wagner wants you.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next day Melissa’s words still rang through Paige’s thoughts.

  Brett Wagner wants you.

  Paige had always been mostly a loner. Quiet and shy by nature, she found engaging men —the flirtation that her younger sister Chloe thrived on— exhausting. Paige had had a couple of intimate relationships with men years ago, but nothing that had become too serious.

  She’d yet to find a man who didn’t mind if she ignored him by painting for hours at a time, falling exhausted into bed only to get up the next day and do the same thing. A man who didn’t mind if Paige forgot to brush her hair for days on end.

  And then since the attack, she’d stopped looking for men all together. The thought of being touched by anyone was enough to make her physically ill.

  Until Brett.

  She had no idea how he would react to her forgetting to brush her hair. But for the first time in a long time she was willing to find out.

  Something about Brett made her feel safe. No, not safe, that wasn’t the right word. Safe was too close to boring. Safe suggested comfort, which she definitely didn’t have. What she felt for Brett was too gripping, too exciting, to be called safe.

  But she knew there was an element of shelter with him. That she never needed to worry about her physical well-being with him near. He had the heart of a protector — she could see it in the rich colors that surrounded him. He had chosen his occupation well.

  She knew he would protect her. Never hurt her, at least not physically.

  So no, he didn’t make her feel safe, but he helped make her feel… brave.

  Paige was just so tired of being scared all the time. A little bit of bravery was so very welcome.

  She had felt it walking around the show last night after Brett had kissed her in the loft. Chats with people that would normally have been so torturous, while they weren’t fun, at least weren’t so exhausting. Because she knew he was nearby. Could sense him. Knew he was watching her.

  She didn’t need him for physical safety. She had her well-paid security team for that. But having him nearby sparked something inside of her she thought was gone forever.

  And bravery was part of that.

  Last night, long after all the guests were gone, while leaving the show from a back entrance, Paige had almost been to the car when she remembered a scarf she’d left inside. A member of her security team had offered to go back and get it, but Paige knew right where it was, so she’d gone back in.

  Inside the darkened hallway leading to the studio, she’d gotten a chill. She could’ve sworn she felt eyes on her from outside in the distance. She looked but couldn’t see anything but a deep, sticky blackness. She’d grabbed her scarf and immediately headed back to the car. Feeling the business card Brett had given her in her hand had helped. Like it was some sort of talisman.

  The event had shaken her, she could admit it. But not as much as it once would have. Once she wouldn’t have left her house for weeks after feeling like someone was watching her.

  Now she could admit that she sometimes let her imagination get the better of her. That the ugly blacks she thought she saw in the night sometimes were just the dark, not malicious black colors surrounding someone with evil intents.

  So… bravery.

  Or maybe not bravery but just not allowing paranoia to rule her life.

  Allowing herself to feel excitement and anticipation again. Who was she kidding? Reveling in the excitement and anticipation that being around Brett Wagner had caused.

  Paige smiled as she stepped back from the living room windows, a cup of coffee warming her hands. It was a gorgeous spring day here in Portland. Sunny. They didn’t get many of those.

  She wanted to go out. By herself. With no guards or entourage.

  Not a life-changing thought for most people. But totally new and unexpected for Paige.

  She wanted to walk in downtown Portland by the Willamette River. Go to the Saturday Market — full of quilts and ceramics and jewelry and soaps. The people who sold there were artists like Paige, many quirky and strange, but always interesting. Paige had sold her paintings there years ago before they had become collectors’ pieces.

  Paige had let her attacker steal one of her favorite activities: walking around the market by herself just enjoying the unorthodox vibe of it all.

  Not anymore.

  She picked up the phone on her desk that automatically connected her with the guard office.

  “Everything okay, Miss Jeffries?” She was glad it was Jacob, one of her two head security guards. He’d been with her longest. Understood her situation best. Never judged her.

  “Jacob, I need your honest opinion.”

  “About a painting?”

  Paige was pretty sure she had never asked Jacob, or any of the other guards, for his opinion about much of anything outside her work. She didn’t tend to be chatty even with the guards that were around all the time.

  “No, about my safety.”

  “Are you worried about something, Miss Jeffries?” She now obviously had his undivided attention.

  “You and the team have been with me for two years. Since the incident. But nothing has really taken place since then. Do you feel my life is in jeopardy?”

  “Hopefully, with me and the other men around, your life will never be in jeopardy. Are you thinking about paring down your security?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “You’re a celebrity. It will probably be good for you to have security for the foreseeable future, regardless of whether there are any direct threats or not.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Here’s the thing: I’d like to go into town for the Saturday Market this morning.”

  “I’d be glad to take you there. It’s no problem at all.”

  “Actually, I think I’d like to venture out a little by myself.”

  There was a long pause. “You pay me, pay all of us to stay with you. Why don’t I just come with you?”

  “Because I want to do it myself, Jacob. I want to stop being holed up in fear all the time.”

  Another pause. This one with a sigh at the end. “Miss Jeffries—”


  “Just let me ask you one question. In your professional opinion, do you think I’m in any danger? Just to go downtown for a few hours?”

  “Well, like I was saying earlier, you’re a well-known artist—”

  “I’m not talking about a fan who might possibly recognize me and want to post my picture with them on Instagram. I’m talking about being in danger. From the man who attacked me.” Paige could feel herself getting agitated, just saying the words. “Do you think he will try again?”

  “My professional opinion? No, I don’t think you are in danger from that person. Based on what happened in your attack and because you’ve never heard anything from him since, no stalking incidents or weird gifts, I think you were randomly selected by him two years ago and aren’t in any danger from him now.”

  Paige knew that should make her feel better, but now she wondered if this was a good idea at all.

  “You know what? Let’s forget it. I’ll just stay here.”

  “Paige.” It was the first time she ever remembered the security guard calling her by her first name. “You should go. We’ll compromise. I’ll drive you down there and drop you and will be nearby. You can walk around as long as you want and then come home.”

  Paige gripped the phone tighter. Could she do this?

  Bravery.

  “You’re right. He’s taken enough. Damn it, he’s not allowed to have one single more of my sunny days to fill with shadows. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  * * *

  An hour later, walking through the familiar grounds of the market, Paige knew she had made the right decision. Jacob had dropped her off, and although she had felt a bit like a teenager being dropped off at the mall by her dad, she was glad she was doing this.

  Colors, noises, smells —some familiar, some not— surrounded her. And even though they weren’t all entirely pleasant, they were fabulous, because they were her choice.

  It was a brisk, sunny spring day. Paige walked from vendor to vendor, keeping her face low in her scarf, partially for warmth, partially so she wouldn’t be recognized. Although the way people carried on around her, in constant movement and bustle, Paige didn’t think anyone was really looking at anyone else, and even if they did get a good look at her she wondered if they would be able to place her.

  Any general unrest she felt melted away as she walked and shopped and even chatted. The colors surrounding the artists here were bright and loud and jarring, for the most part. Difficult to look at sometimes, but obviously involving no malice.

  After a couple of hours of wandering, as much as she enjoyed it, Paige was ready to get away from the cacophony of colors surrounding her. But she wasn’t ready to call Jacob to go home just yet. She decided to walk a little along the river. More nature, less people. Maybe she’d get a sandwich from one of the street vendors. Old town had them everywhere.

  A grilled cheese from the Little T American Baker truck. She could almost taste it —had been one of her favorites years ago and was just up the block. The sandwich would be the perfect end to her outing.

  The food trucks were through a little alley formed by a pedestrian pathway under the main road. People used it all the time to save themselves from having to go the long way around the busy street, but as Paige made her way towards it from the park, she stopped at the entrance.

  There was no one in the alley that she could see in the dim light, but she could swear she felt eyes on her again. Like last night at the show.

  Like her attack two years ago.

  Her heart began to hammer against her ribs, her breathing hitched. She reached in her purse to pull out the phone to call Jacob. She didn’t want the sandwich anymore.

  The phone flew out of her hands and fell to the ground as strong arms came around her from behind.

  “Hey, baby, there you are!”

  The voice boomed in her ear. Paige jerked back, but the arms didn’t release her. She was trapped.

  Panic swamped her and Paige couldn’t seem to force any of her muscles to move for a long moment. But when the arms tightened around her she exploded into movement. She flung her head back and could feel her skull hit her captor’s face. She twisted and began flailing her legs.

  But he still didn’t let go.

  From somewhere to her side Paige could hear laughter, but her panicked brain couldn’t process who it was or why anything was funny. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand came up, covering her mouth over her scarf, which was now over most of her face.

  “Damn it, Maggie, what the hell’s wrong with you? I think you broke my nose!” The voice attached to the arms that held her said. Paige could barely register the words.

  Maggie?

  Another set of arms wrapped around her legs and stopped her flailing.

  “Maggie, c’mon. Chill.” This was the voice from her legs. “Eric, let her go, man. She’s really freaking out.”

  Using every ounce of willpower she could find, Paige forced herself to stop struggling. The people holding her weren’t hurting her; weren’t taking her anywhere. The arms around her torso let go and Paige fell to the ground, crying out as her elbow cracked against the ground.

  She pulled her scarf down from where it had covered most of her face as she scurried backward on the ground ready to run. She stared out at the three men now leaning over her.

  “Oh crap. That’s not Maggie,” one of them murmured.

  Not three men. Three oversized teenagers. Yellows and reds zig-zagging around them in jarring patterns. Hormones obviously ruled their every thought and action. But there wasn’t any blackness. None of them intended her harm.

  One had some questionable grays mixed in with his colors, but that could mean a number of things —from cheating on his girlfriend to plans to stuff some kid in a locker at school— and have nothing to do with Paige.

  “Oh my gosh, ma’am, we’re really sorry.” This was the one who had grabbed her from behind and was bleeding from his nose. “We thought you were our friend Maggie.”

  The bleeding guy smacked the one with gray in his colors. “Dude, you told us that was Maggie.”

  That guy didn’t make eye contact with Paige. “My bad. Sorry about that. She has the same scarf as you.”

  “Are you okay?” The third one reached down to help Paige, but she scooted away. She didn’t want anyone to touch her right now.

  “I’m fine,” she said in the strongest voice she could manage. “You guys should just go.”

  The boys didn’t seem to want to stick around, probably afraid they would get in trouble. They glanced at each other and left, quickly.

  Somewhere in her subconscious, Paige knew she was safe. Those boys hadn’t meant her harm. It had just been a misunderstanding.

  But she couldn’t get her body to stop shaking; couldn’t get the muscles of her legs to work so she could stand upright. She needed to call Jacob to come get her, but her phone had fallen when the boys had first grabbed her and lay on the ground.

  She scooted herself over to the phone almost in tears when she saw the screen cracked and no life in it whatsoever. Jacob’s number was programmed into the phone, and right now she couldn’t get her brain to function enough to recall any numbers from memory.

  Even with the boys gone she still felt eyes on her. Wasn’t sure if that was just residual panic or true danger. She needed to get out of this alley and back down near the market. Her breathing became labored again as she saw the inky blackness seeming to tendril out the alley behind her.

  Paige forced herself up from the ground, wincing at the pain in her elbow. Everything seemed to be spinning as she took unsteady steps away from the mouth of the alley. She didn’t know what was wrong. She hadn’t been hurt by the boys, just scared. She hadn’t felt this disoriented since…

  Since the attack two years ago. The last thing she remembered from that day was feeling just like this before she blacked out and then woken up in the clutches of a madman, thrust further in darkness.

&n
bsp; Her vision was dimming again as Paige took more steps. She wasn’t sure which direction she was even heading, she just knew she needed to get away from here. From the blackness.

  She put her broken phone in her jacket pocket, trying to steady herself. And she felt it. A business card.

  Brett’s card from last night.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  Paige spun jerkily around at the words, and through her hazy vision could see a woman pushing a stroller. This person wasn’t the blackness, but the blackness was still nearby.

  “Could you please call the policeman on this business card? Tell him Paige needs him to come get her.” She could barely get the words out.

  The concerned mom helped Paige sit down on a nearby bench. The world kept spinning around her and ice seemed to have permeated her veins. With chattering teeth she watched as the woman looked at the card and dialed the number.

  Then Paige just focused on keeping the darkness away.

  Chapter Nine

  Brett didn’t tend to play games with women. When he said he would call, he called. And calling Paige today had definitely been part of his plan. He hadn’t intended on making either of them wait and wonder.

  But receiving a call on his personal cell phone from a stranger who told him Paige was sitting on a bench downtown in some sort of shock? That he hadn’t been expecting.

  “Can I please talk to her?” he’d asked the woman.

  “Br-Brett?”

  “Paige? What happened, honey? Are you okay?”

  “Somebody grabbed me. I was walking. Somebody grabbed me.” Her breathing was so labored it had been hard to make out her words.

  “Where’s your security team, sweetie?”

  “Not here.” Her teeth seemed to be chattering. “I— not here.”

  “I’m coming, okay? Just stay right there. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

  He’d talked again to the woman who’d initially called him, making sure he didn’t need to send an ambulance — was Paige bleeding, have broken bones? The thought that she’d been hurt again made him sick to his stomach.