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Humming, Lindsay switched on the coffee maker. Her whole body was still glowing. It was already after nine, she was going to be so late, but she’d already sent Lilly a text to warn her. For the first time in days, she was hungry. Last night she didn’t have an appetite. Well, not for food, anyway.
Blake was still in the shower, where he’d joined her earlier. She put her hands against her hot cheeks. She’d never be able to step into that shower and not remember the many ways Blake had found to take her to new heights of pleasure.
And she loved him. Deeply, fervently, and with everything she was. She hugged herself. Could anyone be this happy? Look at her—all dressed up to seduce him again. In a pair of jeggings—they wouldn’t be so difficult to get rid of as jeans—and one of her favorite pink lace tops. With buttons.
There was a sound behind her, and she grinned. “I have to get to the shop. We can’t...” In the next instant, a cold hand clamped down around her throat and she froze.
It wasn’t Blake who was standing behind her. It was Mark. She could smell him.
She turned around. And yes, it was Mark. He was standing in the doorway, a gun in his hand, snarling.
“Thought the fire would get you here in time. And no use waiting for Lover Boy upstairs to come your rescue; he’s still having a shower. Besides, I’ve locked the door. What I really wanted to do was to shoot him, here, between the eyes,” he said, motioning the gun to the point between his eyes. “But then you’d have heard, and I’m tired of chasing after you. It’s time for you to come back to me. You know that, right? You were stupid enough to think you can get away from me, but it doesn’t work that way. So, come on, sweetheart, before I change my mind and shoot Lover Boy. He still has no idea I’m here, so don’t be stupid enough to think he’ll come for you.”
He pointed the gun at her.
––––––––
Still grinning, Blake stepped out of the shower and dried himself. Lindsay had just been in the shower with him, but he already missed her. He had nothing to offer her, he knew that, but hopefully, he’d shown her how wonderfully special she was. And for the moment, he could be with her.
Quickly, he slipped on his jeans and pulled a jersey over his head. And froze.
The hair on his neck rose. Something was seriously wrong—he could feel it. As he sprinted towards the bathroom door, he got out his phone. Panic had him nearly dropping it again.
Damn it, where the hell is Lindsay? He had to get to her, he had to make sure she was safe. That was the reason he was here—to protect her. He should’ve been more vigilant.
And if he hadn’t given in to his desires, if he’d done what he was supposed to do, he would’ve been. But instead, he was making love to Lindsay when he should’ve been protecting her. And now she might be in danger. Damn it to hell.
The door was locked and there was no key. Which meant someone had reached for the key while he was in the shower and he hadn’t even registered what was happening. Dread threatened to engulf him. He stormed back to the window in time to see a black SUV drive away. He couldn’t tell the make or the plate numbers from this distance. With unsteady fingers, he dialed Jason’s number. It was Taylor, his gut was screaming.
His friend picked up on the first ring. “What?”
“He’s got her. Black SUV. Phone everyone.”
And roaring, he stormed towards the door and kicked it down. Grabbing clothes and his car keys, he raced down the stairs, an ice-cold hand clutching his heart. Getting into his jeans and boots took a few minutes and by the time he was finished dressing, he was hopping mad. With Taylor, but mostly with himself.
What the hell had he been thinking? He could play house with Lindsay while a madman was after her, and nothing would happen? Cursing, he stormed out of the house and got into his car.
He couldn’t protect her because damn it, he’d fallen for her. And look what had happened. She’d been taken while he was in the same house with her. He was supposed to protect her, damn it, not fall in love with her.
Love her. Love.
Cursing, he stepped on the pedal. Because he’d lost his focus, she was in danger. This was all on him.
As he sped away from Lindsay’s house, Jason called.
“He’s trapped. Only problem is, Lindsay is with him.”
––––––––
“What the hell were you thinking?” Mark demanded again and caught her hair in his hand, as he’d regularly done when they were together.
“You’re hurting me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“That’s the idea, you stupid bitch,” he snarled, yanking her hair again.
Lindsay was trying to see where they were going, but her eyes were watering from the pain of Mark’s cruel grip, making it difficult to ascertain which direction Mark was driving.
Blake was safe; he hadn’t been hurt. This thought kept her sane. And he’d find a way to help her—of that she was very sure.
“You’re going to pay for putting me through all of this,” Mark shouted, and waving his gun around, continued to verbally abuse her in the most vile language.
She tuned out. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. He was clearly unstable, even more so than before. But where his words had usually left her numb with fear, she was now angry. Livid, truth be told. For far too long, he had messed up her life. It was time to take it back.
Just then he swore, dropped his hand, and stepped on the brakes. “What the f—”
They were at the crossroads just outside town, she noticed. But a big, white SUV was blocking the exit. And in front of it were two policemen with guns. The one she recognized as Jim from Livingston, but she hadn’t seen the other guy before.
Still swearing, Mark put the car in reverse and looked in the rearview mirror. “What the hell?” he roared.
Lindsay quickly turned her head. Two cars were blocking them from behind, as well. Jason’s and Blake’s.
“Oh, you think Lover Boy can rescue you?” Mark snarled and opened his door. “Let’s show him how happy we are, shall we?” Grabbing her arm, he dragged her across the seat and out of the car.
Outside, he brought his arm around her throat, but she instinctively dropped her chin to prevent him from choking her, and she grabbed hold of his wrist with both her hands.
“You want this piece of trash?” Mark bellowed, waving the gun around. “Why don’t you come and get her?”
––––––––
With a grunt, Blake took a step forward, but Jason put a hand on his arm. “Steady now. He wants you all riled up. Now’s the time to let your training kick in. Forget that it’s Lindsay out there. There is a victim who needs our help.”
Feeling helpless, Blake fisted his hands. Jason was so right. Storming towards Lindsay would only put her in more danger. He usually relied on his instincts, his strength, his fists, but now he needed to think clearly.
“She may not realize it, but look at her, she knows what to do,” Jason said softly, his gun aimed at Taylor. “You’ve taught her the basics of self-defense and she’s doing it.”
And for the first time, Blake noticed Lindsay had dropped her chin and had both her hands around Taylor’s wrist, just like he’d showed them in the self-defense classes. Fear was still clutching at his throat, but there was a glimmer of hope. They didn’t have much time, though. At this point, Taylor was so busy shouting instructions, he probably hadn’t noticed what she was doing.
Taylor’s mistake was to think Lindsay was still the helpless woman he could abuse, but the Lindsay Blake loved was stubborn, ornery, difficult, and strong. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
Slowly, without taking his eyes off of Taylor and Lindsay, Blake stepped forward and held out his gun. “I’m putting this down. Let Lindsay go.” And as he talked, he moved closer to where Taylor and Lindsay were standing.
“Stay away!” Taylor yelled, and pressed the gun against Lindsay’s temple.
Ice-cold fury reared up inside of Blake. This had gone on long enough.
“Lindsay,” he said, his eyes on Taylor. “You know you’re beautiful, don’t you? And strong. So strong. And you know exactly what to do now. We’ve done it—a number of times—and I remember you were the best.”
“Shut up!” Taylor screamed, but Blake was looking at Lindsay. Her chin was still down, effectively preventing Taylor from choking her.
And then she stepped to her right as Blake had taught her, lifted her left hand, and struck Taylor’s groin. And as he bent forward in pain, she hit him with her elbow.
By the time Taylor was howling like a banshee, Blake had picked up Lindsay and was walking back to his car with her. Jason and Jim and the other policeman had Taylor on the ground, his hands behind his back.
In awe, Blake looked down at Lindsay and his eyes roamed over her. She was fine, she was breathing, but her whole body was shaking.
He could’ve prevented the trauma if he’d been more alert. The same way he could’ve prevented Miss Betty from dying if he’d noticed in time she wasn’t feeling well. The same way he should’ve had Will’s back when he’d stormed into that damn building. But he hadn’t been there, for either of his friends.
Lindsay hooked her arms around his neck and as she lifted her head to look at him, he saw the bruises around her neck.
Biting off a curse, he gently put her inside the car. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” And then he turned around and walked back to where Taylor was still yelling and howling.
Jim and Jason and the other policeman had Taylor cuffed. Blake walked right up to him and lifted his hand.
“I’m taking full responsibility for this,” he said, but before he could ram his fist down Taylor’s throat, as he’d been wanting to do ever since he’d heard what the bastard had done to Lindsay, Jason grabbed his arm.
“Not worth it,” he said. “And the last thing Lindsay needs right now is more violence. Take her home.” And as Blake slowly dropped his hand, Jason grinned. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, don’t you worry.”
Blake glared at Taylor. At least he’d finally shut the hell up. He wanted to hurt the bastard so badly, but Jason was right. Lindsay didn’t need to see more violence.
And he should’ve thought of that, which just proved his point.
He was no good to her; hadn’t he known that it all along?