Betrayed (Atlanta's Finest Series Book 5)

by Sharon C. Cooper

  Before they cleared the intersection, the crunching sound of the truck slamming into the side of his car, along with Zenobia’s screams, was deafening.

  The rear passenger window exploded. Tires squealed. Horns blared. Angelo’s blood chilled as he gripped the steering wheel.

  The car spun. Once. Twice. Clipped another vehicle. They went around and around until the driver’s side of the automobile collided into a pole.

  “Ohmigod! Omigod! Omigod!” Zenobia panicked cries clawed through Angelo as he shook his head, blinking several times trying to clear his vision.

  He swallowed hard. Snubbing the churning in his stomach, he pushed down the bile that crawled up his throat. His chest heaved as his breaths came in short spurts. He had to pull himself together, but his mind was fuzzy as thoughts pinged around in his head.

  Truck.

  Crash.

  Zenobia.

  Danger.

  Angelo twisted in his seat and bit out a curse when his ribs screamed in agony. It was sheer determination that helped him undo his seat belt than Zenobia’s. Still blinking away the dizziness and attempting to see her despite the darkness of the interior, he reached for her.

  Zenobia’s irregular breathing filled his ears when she leaned into him, and he cupped her face between his hands.

  “Look at me,” he searched her eyes. “Are you hurt?”

  “I—I don’t think so,” she sputtered, her hands trembling as they covered his. “You. Ar—are you—you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m—” His words lodged in his throat. A big, burly figure with a black scarf covering his lower face staggered toward the passenger side of the car.

  Heart hammering double time, Angelo gently pushed Zenobia to the floor and reached for the pistol in his ankle holster. “Cover your head and stay down,” he ground out just as the man lifted a crowbar and swung at the window.

  Zenobia’s terrifying shriek echoed through the air, and Angelo lifted his arm to block the sudden spikes of glass that blasted into the car. The man reached into the vehicle.

  “No! No!” Zenobia shouted hysterically, clawing at the guy as he roughly tried pulling her up from the floor. “No! Help!”

  Angelo lunged forward, gripped her arm and tugged her toward him, but the attacker held on. Her screams tore Angelo up inside. He couldn’t fail her. He aimed his gun at the guy, but the man was too close to Zenobia. Shooting at him was too risky.

  “Let her go!” Angelo roared, needing to distract the man enough for him to loosen his grip. When that didn’t happen, Angelo leaned over the center console and slammed the butt of his gun into the side of the man’s head.

  The attacker cried out. His grip loosened enough for Zenobia to get free, and Angelo fired. The gunshot sounded like an explosion rattling his eardrums, but he hit his target. The attacker howled in pain, grabbing his shoulder and stumbled back.

  Panting, Zenobia crawled over the center console. She frantically climbed into Angelo’s lap, practically knocking the gun from his hand in the process. He held her close, and she buried her face against his throat.

  A second man, dressed similar to the first, in all black and a scarf covering the lower part of his face, came into view. Angelo lifted his arm to fire again, but the guy didn’t approach. Instead, he roughly jerked the first attacker’s shirt and pulled him toward the truck. Within seconds, they peeled away from the scene.

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  Side throbbing. Ears ringing. Breaths coming in short spurts.

  Angelo held Zenobia’s trembling body. “We’re okay,” he mumbled, despite his body feeling like one big throb. Not as dizzy as before, but his mind was still a jumbled mess.

  Footsteps on crunching glass snagged his attention.

  Angelo tightened his hold around Zenobia with one arm, and raised the other, pointing his gun at the missing passenger side window.

  “Lo, it’s me. Lower your weapon.” Laz’s commanding voice punched through the thick fog of Angelo’s mind like a fist through a paper bag. He slowly lowered his gun but maintained his hold on Zenobia, who was gripping the front of his shirt like a lifeline.

  They were alive.

  They were safe.

  Acknowledging those facts seemed to zap the energy right out of him. Willing his heart rate to settle down, Angelo dropped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

  He didn’t know who was behind this attack, but whoever it was would soon learn that he was not a man to take lightly. Everyone involved would pay.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Curled up on her family room sofa next to Angelo, Zenobia nibbled on her thumbnail. Tension lay lodged against her breastplate. Someone wanted to kill her. She could’ve died tonight. They could’ve died. She didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened had Angelo not been with her. His quick thinking and determination to keep her safe meant everything.

  Once Laz had showed up, he took charge. As a former detective with Atlanta PD, he seemed to know all the cops on site. Some were glad to see him, almost to the point of hero worship, while others gave him a wide berth.

  Laz was also able to deal with Angelo’s stubbornness. Who knew her bodyguard boyfriend owned the trait? Apparently, his team.

  Laz had threatened to strangle him if he didn’t cooperate. He barely answered the cops’ questions, adamant that they should be looking for their attackers instead of wasting time questioning him. Angelo had also refused to be transported to the hospital by ambulance, though he was clearly in pain. He really lost his shit when the cops tried to pull her away from him to question her. He made it clear that he didn’t trust anyone but his team, and he had no intention of letting her out of his sight.

  Kenton, Myles, and a few other guys Zenobia didn’t know, showed up in big SUVs with dark, tinted windows. They escorted her and Angelo to the hospital. Kenton drove the SUV that she and Angelo rode in, while Laz led the way in another vehicle, and Myles was in yet another trailing them. There had only been one other time in Zenobia’s life when she’d felt so protected. A time that was just as scary but had a different outcome.

  With her head resting on Angelo’s shoulder, and her arm looped through his, Zenobia leaned into him even harder. He’d saved her life…again…and had been her rock since returning to her home.

  “Looks like the media is slowly starting to thin,” Myles said as he peeked through the vertical blinds. The picture window gave a view of the front yard, long driveway, and the street beyond the front gate.

  One of Zenobia’s biggest concerns had been the media getting wind of the crash. They’d been escorted through a private entrance to get into the hospital. When it was time for them to leave, Kenton confirm that the paparazzi were outside both hospital entrances. Zenobia had no idea who had informed them that she was there, but it didn’t matter. Atlanta’s Finest had proven to be as good and resourceful as they’d vowed during her initial meeting at Supreme. The men were a protective wall around her and Angelo as they loaded them into the SUV.

  Now, some were still milling about her house. Based on the savory scents floating to her nose, Sofia was cooking despite it being after midnight. Myles was the only one in the family room with her and Angelo, and the others were in the kitchen.

  “Do we have any information yet about the men who attacked us?” Angelo asked.

  Zenobia startled and lifted her head from his shoulder when he started to stand. She fisted the side of his T-shirt to keep him from moving. The anxiety that had been simmering inside of her since leaving the hospital suddenly grew into a boil.

  He glanced at her. She’d been strong for much of the night, but fear that he was leaving tightened around her like a straitjacket. She couldn’t let him go.

  “Try to relax. I’m not going anywhere.” He placed his arm around her and pulled her close until her cheek rested on his chest. He gave her a little squeeze. “I have no intention of leaving you. Okay?”

  She gave a shaky nod a
nd willed her fingers to release his T-shirt. She couldn’t. Her anxiety climbed. Her childish behavior was embarrassing, but she couldn’t help it. The terror that engulfed her when their attacker tried pulling her from the car consumed her again.

  Her head spun. Her chest heaved. Her breathing increased. What was wrong with her?

  “Hey, look at me.” Angelo leaned back slightly, forcing Zenobia to lift her head. He cupped her cheek and tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re safe. We won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

  She would not cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of anyone. Instead, she dug down deep within herself and drummed up as much courage as she could. Releasing a shaky breath, she loosened her hold on his shirt.

  Her gaze followed every step Angelo took. Back and forth he paced in front of the coffee table. For the last few hours, she couldn’t seem to get her body to move, and he couldn’t keep still. Earlier, while the doctor was checking her out, Angelo paced. He claimed moving helped him think better. Now that he was moving again, his body was stiff, and his expression pinched as he walked up and down the length of the family room.

  Zenobia half-listened as Myles told him that a witness got a partial license plate from the truck that crashed into them. Wiz, who she hadn’t met yet, was doing something with city cameras. He had the ability to determine when they’d picked up the tail. They were also digging deeper into Octavia’s life. Especially since Zenobia hadn’t told anyone that she’d be at her manager’s house during that time.

  They were also in touch with local hospitals, staying abreast of the gunshot victim Angelo had shot, in hopes he’d seek medical attention. None of that seemed enough for Angelo. His voice grew louder and angrier with each question he asked.

  “I want to know who those assholes are!” he growled.

  Goosebumps raced over Zenobia’s skin. He’d been kind and gentle with her since day one, but tonight she’d seen other facets of him. He’d been fearless, even shooting a man to protect her. He was possessive, not wanting her out of his sight. He was also a take-charge kind of guy. Laz might’ve stepped in at the crash site, but since then, Angelo had been giving orders and following up on the team’s progress.

  Zenobia glanced at the two men. Myles said something that she missed, but it must’ve been something that riled Angelo. He huffed out a breath, while combing his fingers through his hair.

  “They weren’t trying to kill her. They wanted her. They were trying to take her from me!” he choked out and pounded his chest.

  Tears pricked the back of Zenobia’s eyes as his anguish cut through to her heart. She’d have to be blind and unfeeling not to notice that she and he were getting closer. Not in a bodyguard/client kind of way. No, there was something special happening between them, had been since the first time they met. Only right now, she wasn’t sure if he was pissed that she’d almost gotten snatched on his watch. Or if it was something more that he was feeling.

  Suddenly exhausted, Zenobia brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. If only she could clear her mind. She rested her forehead on her knees.

  The crash and everything that followed played on loop in her head. Especially when her attacker slammed something hard into the car window. His strong, beefy hand had grasped at her hair, neck, and shoulders. Then he gripped the shoulder of her shirt so hard, he’d ripped it. She’d fought with everything within her. Yet, he still managed to grab her upper arm and lift her from the floor of the car.

  And then there was the gunshot.

  And screams. Hers and the attacker.

  Her ears were still ringing from it all.

  Zenobia rocked a little. Strands of her hair flopped back and forth, hitting the side of her face and brushing her shoulders. Those guys could’ve done anything to her. The crash, the attack…it was all a little too, too…familiar.

  She shook her head. No. Don’t go there.

  She wasn’t allowing her mind to go down that road. A road that led back to her past and the worst time in her life. She survived, barely. Her attackers hadn’t. They’d never be able to hurt her again.

  She had survived then, and she survived tonight…thanks to Angelo. This was twice now that he had saved her. Each time he had put his life on the line for her. She didn’t want there to be a third time.

  But what if they came back? What if they were successful on the third attempt? What if they didn’t stop coming for her?

  Zenobia’s breathing increased as one scenario after another festered inside her mind.

  I’m okay. I’m okay.

  She kept telling herself, desperately needing to believe the words. But the screeching of tires, the loud boom of the truck slamming into them, her screams…all of it bombarded her mind. What if Angelo and his team never found the guys? They would come back, and next time…

  Zenobia’s heart leaped into her throat and her head shot up when she felt something on her shoulder. It was as if an army of ants were sprinting across her skin. Heart racing. Pulse pounding. She flung her arms around, trying to shake them off, all the while scooting to the corner of the sofa.

  “Whoa.” Angelo reared back, his hands up and out in front of him. “It’s just me, baby. It’s just me.”

  Breathing hard and trembling, Zenobia’s frantic gaze bounced from Angelo to Myles. They both stood at attention. Neither said a word. They stared at her as if watching an alien come unhinged.

  Laz strolled into the room, but slowed. He looked back and forth between them. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Feeling like a total idiot, Zenobia covered her face with shaking hands. She was losing her mind. The dam that she’d been holding off for hours finally broke. Tears spilled from her eyes.

  “Zenobia,” Angelo said quietly before she felt his hand on her back.

  The gentleness of his touch should’ve been comforting, but instead it made her cry harder. She’d freaked out after the crash, but she hadn’t cried. Even when she recounted what happened to the cops, she’d been able to hold it together. But now…

  “Come on. You’ve had a long day. Let’s go upstairs,” Angelo said. When she didn’t move, he lifted her into his arms.

  Not wanting any of them to see her fall apart, she immediately buried her face against Angelo’s neck. She found some comfort in his fresh scent and the steady beat of his pulse, but her heart ached.

  Why was someone after her? What had she done to make someone want to hurt her?

  Tears make you weak, and you’re not weak. You have to stay strong.

  The familiar words from her past seeped into her soul.

  You have to stay strong.

  Angelo hissed and his body stiffened when he climbed that first step. That’s when Zenobia remembered he wasn’t a hundred percent healthy. His left side was bruised. Thankfully, his ribs were okay, but on the way to the hospital to get checked out, she could tell he was in pain. Yet, here he was carrying her.

  She sniffed, swiped her hand down her face and wiped feverishly at her tears. “You’re hurt. Put me down.”

  “I’m fine,” he huffed as he cleared the top step. Shifting her slightly in his hold, he walked the short distance down the hall until he reached her bedroom door. “All I care about right now is taking care of you.”

  “You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll be fine. I—I just had a moment, but I’ll be okay,” Zenobia insisted, though deep down inside she didn’t know if she would ever be all right. Physically, her aching body would recover. Mentally, she wasn’t so sure. The last thing she wanted was to begin seeing a therapist again, but she wasn’t opposed to it.

  Angelo strolled across the room to her sitting area and set her in her favorite seat, an overstuffed sack chair that could hold two people.

  “Don’t move,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

  Inhaling deeply, she slowly released the breath, and then repeated the act as she glanced around the cozy space. Besides the
kitchen, the master suite had played a big factor in her putting an offer in on the house.

  The space was split into two adjourning rooms. A sliding, frosted door separated them. Her sitting area was where she curled up when she wanted to relax, read, or just think. The plush furniture, pale yellow walls, floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the space, and the fireplace made for a relaxing environment.

  A knock on the bedroom door snagged her attention. Zenobia wasn’t sure if Angelo was still in there, and she couldn’t see the door from where she was sitting.

  Wiping her hands down her face, she stood.

  “Where you going?” Angelo asked, appearing in the entry way with a tray topped with a couple of covered dishes. On one of his arms hung a small picnic basket.

  He entered and set the items on the storage chest made of reclaimed wood that served as a coffee table.

  “Angelo,” Zenobia started, touched by the sweet gesture. She hadn’t been able to eat when Sofia insisted on feeding her earlier. Once she had arrived home, all she’d wanted to do was take a shower and hide under her bed covers. She made it through the shower, but anxiety got the best of her the moment she was alone in bed. Which was how she’d ended up curled up against Angelo in the family room.

  “I’m not really hungry,” she said as he settled in on the love seat, sitting within arms’ reach of her.

  “Good. Then there’s more for me.”

  He uncovered the dishes, revealing tacos, rice, and vegetables. In the basket was a bottle of bourbon whiskey and two shot glasses.

  “The food is for me. The bottle is for you.”

  He poured the dark liquid into one of the glasses and handed it to her. Muttering something about it not being good for her to drink alone, he poured himself a shot.

  He tapped his glass against hers. “Drink up.” He threw back the liquor.

  Instead of drinking hers, Zenobia watched him pour himself another one.

  “Drink. It’ll knock the edge off and help you relax.”