Over lunch, Teagan went through the stack of bills, trying to decide which ones deserved priority. She made decent money working for the Morans, but the massive amount of debt her father left them in when he died and the astronomical healthcare fees they kept incurring to deal with her mother’s cancer was crippling.
“Mortgage payment or hospital bill…” she mumbled to herself before cramming a piece of toast into her mouth.
An envelope beneath the latest bill gave her pause. The toast seemed extremely dry this time around when she swallowed. Teagan was thankful her mother was upstairs with the nurse, so she wouldn’t see the expression on her face and ask questions. All she could do was hold the envelope in her hands and stare at it. NYU Grossman School of Medicine.
It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d been a student, on her way to becoming a doctor, and not someone illegally playing doctor. She stuffed the unopened letter into her purse without looking at it and continued to go through the bills.
Now that she worked the night shifts, she felt like a vampire. She’d come home in the early morning and sleep until midafternoon. Wake up and cook bacon, eggs and toast for herself and then head to the penthouse. Rinse and repeat. Her life had become very monotonous. Teagan sighed.
Looking at her watch, she knew she’d better finish up, so she could leave soon.
Before she left, she headed upstairs to say goodbye to her mother.
“Hi, Teagan.” Rosie, the nurse that came by twice a week, greeted her with a smile.
“Hey, Rosie.”
Teagan turned her attention to her mother. The cancer had not only ravaged her body but her once vibrant spirit. Her mother was a shell of her former self, both physically and often mentally. The chemo and radiation treatments claimed her magnificent afro early in the process. Her mother’s now bald head was covered by a headscarf.
“Hi, Momma.” Teagan leaned over the bed and kissed the top of her mother’s head.
“I love you.” She whispered the words low, so only her mother would hear them.
Her mother squeezed her hand and gave her a wan smile.
After she left the house, the fifteen-minute walk to the subway gave her time to clear her head. The ride on the F train was brief and crowded. She stuck her headphones in her ear and allowed herself to be swept up in the crowd of other commuters making the transfer to the E train. While she waited on the platform, she found herself thinking of Reid. Of all the damn people who could invade her thoughts right now, why did it have to be him?
There was no need for her to answer that. She knew why. Even though the man was a thug and embodied everything she hated: ruthless, bloodthirsty and merciless, she still found him sexy as sin. It disgusted Teagan that she was physically attracted to him.
After another transfer, she took her seat on the A train, her angry thoughts now a snarled mass in her head. A man waved his hand in front of her face to get her attention.
Was he a tourist? She pulled an earbud out of her ear and gave him a questioning look.
The middle-aged dad with the fanny pack grinned at her. “Why the frown? A pretty girl like you should be smiling.”
WTF? Did this guy really just tell her she should smile?
Teagan kept the angry scowl plastered on her face. This man had invaded her solitude with some nonsense. When she stuffed the earbud back in her ear without giving the man a response, she blamed it all on Reid. If she hadn’t been irritated with herself over thinking about him, then she would have been wearing a neutral expression and wouldn’t have been bothered by this asshat who thought she owed him a smile. The rest of the ride she stared the man dead in his face, mean-mugging him the whole time until he got up and moved. Fucking Reid Beckett.
From the subway in Manhattan, it was about a fifteen-minute walk. When she reached the building, she stood on the corner, looking up at the beautiful, modern high-rise. To any other person on the street, the building represented money, power, a better life. The only thing she saw when she looked up at it was her personal prison. Christy Moran had been her savior when she came to him six months ago, hoping to get the lowlife bookies off their backs. Teagan had been able to barter her medical knowledge and skills in exchange for a job and him dealing with the bookies.
Now he was her warden. Would he ever consider her debt paid or was she doomed to be tied to them the rest of her life?
By the time she stormed into the penthouse, her mood had soured even more. Thankfully, no one got in her way. The rest of the night went by in a blur. Throughout her shift, she checked on the goon from last night, stitched up a superficial knife wound and some other minor injuries. Overall, it was a pretty mellow night.
When her shift ended, she exited through the false wall after punching in her code. Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, she expected to find the house empty, but instead, she found Reid sitting at the kitchen counter reading. Maybe he hadn’t become aware of her and she could just step back into the hallway. Quietly, she tiptoed backward, trying not to make a sound.
“Have you read this book before?” He gave the paperback in his hand a brief shake. “It’s really good.”
Teagan stopped moving and huffed. Damn.
Reid looked up from his book. While he stuffed the bookmark into the battered copy of whatever he was reading, his gaze roamed over her body before their eyes met.
Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at him. “I didn’t know Neanderthals could read.”
“Cute. You think by calling me a knuckle-dragger you’ll piss me off? I passed puberty years ago, Princess. Won’t work.” He smirked.
Inwardly, she seethed. She knew he wanted her to take the bait over him calling her Princess. If she did, he’d win. Why did she let him get her riled up and playing these childish games?
Choosing to ignore him, she turned to walk away and go change her clothes, but his words stopped her.
“Let me know when you’re ready to leave, so I can drive you home.” Smugness oozed from every syllable.
Thankfully, her back was to him. There was no way she was getting in the car with him again. This wasn’t going to become a habit. Reid could go play the white knight with some other woman because she didn’t need to be rescued. Without a retort, she continued down the hallway. She was certain there was another way out of the penthouse.
Once she dressed and grabbed her bags, she crept down the hall to make sure Reid was still in the kitchen. Halfway there, she heard Bernard’s voice along with his. Good.
Retracing her steps back down the hall, Teagan tiptoed through the maid’s quarters to the seldom-used service elevator.
She crept toward the elevator and pushed the button. Please work.
Holding her breath and silently saying a small prayer, Teagan waited to see if it would work. When the tiny ding sounded at the arrival and the doors opened, she let out the breath she’d been holding and grinned.
Stepping out into the alleyway, she felt victorious. She’d outsmarted Reid. Now she could have some peace.
About a minute after leaving the alley, a weird sensation overcame her. With each step, it intensified. Carefully, she scanned her surroundings. There was no one else out on the street that she could see. She gripped her bags a little tighter, trying not to be spooked, but then she heard footsteps. Was Reid following her? Teagan dismissed the thought. If he came after her, he’d probably come in his car, if he came at all.
Someone was following her. She didn’t want to alert them that she was aware of their presence. Slowly, and without calling attention to her movements, she pulled the baton from the hidden pocket she’d sewn into her bag. For a moment, she just held it in a death grip, praying she wouldn’t have to use it. Thirty seconds later, she knew she had no choice. The person was now walking at a quicker pace and gaining on her. Adrenaline was pumping in her veins. Turning down a side street, she hoped they’d keep walking straight, but no such luck. She was too far down the street when she realized it probably wasn’t a good choice. Many of the lights weren’t working, and the street mostly consisted of businesses that were closed. No one would hear her cries for help. Teagan took a deep breath.
“One, two, three.” She counted quietly under her breath and then on three she spun around and swung the baton in a forceful downward motion, so the expandable part of the baton deployed. Whoever the idiot was following her, he was about to get his head bashed in.
Teagan’s hope that the person would be scared off once she confronted them deflated when the guy ran toward her in attack mode. She struck out with the baton, but he was able to dodge most of the impact. It barely caught him on the arm. The man, who wore jeans and a hoodie pulled over his baseball cap, lunged for her. Quick, clumsy backward steps kept her out of his reach. Swinging the baton again, she tried to hit him in the face. He leaned out of the way, narrowly missing the end of the baton once again.
This guy was fast. Her brain was trying to keep up with his movements, but also, she was trying to think. If he’d just wanted to rob her, why not run up and steal her bag? He could have easily run off, and she probably wouldn’t have been able to chase him down to get it back.
When she swung again and smacked him in the thigh, she saw him wince in pain. He backed off for a second, but her victory was short-lived as her tired brain finally came to the conclusion that if he hadn’t accosted her for money, he wanted something else… her.
Rage and fear filled her at the thought, and no longer was she making calculated moves. Now it was emotion that drove her. Her movements became wild. He sensed the shift and became bolder. It was like he grew ten feet tall and more menacing. Could he smell her fear, taste her panic on the tip of his tongue like a newfound flavor to savor?
Her next move was so forceful that it sent her spinning for a second, and that was when he was able to land a punch to her midsection. The breath was knocked out of her body so suddenly it made her head swim. Teagan tried to breathe. She gulped for air, trying to pull oxygen into her lungs. That’s when he grabbed her.
“You bitch!”
Even as she tried to regain her breath, she attempted to swing the baton, but he had a hold of her now.
Her bags fell off her shoulder in the ensuing struggle. The clatter and noise of the contents spilling out was not enough sound to alert anyone. She clawed at him, trying to rake her nails over his face or any bit of exposed skin. The moment she regained her breath and went to call for help, he clamped a hand over her mouth and wrestled her to the ground.
God, she couldn’t let him get her to the ground.
Under his hand, her screams were muffled in her ears. Her limbs flailed as she struck out at him. Her assault seemed to have no effect.
“Quiet, bitch.” He reared up and backhanded her hard across the face.
Spots danced in front of her eyes. Teagan opened and closed her jaw, trying to make sure it still worked, and he hadn’t broken it.
When she finally recovered from the stupor the slap sent her into, he was between her legs, trying to undo her belt.
“No, no, no…” She punched and continued to lash out, not willing to concede.
With one hand, he was trying to grab at her arms to stop her from beating him. The other hand wrapped around her throat and tried to choke her into submission. Teagan scratched at his hand, trying to free herself. If he was able to choke her out, she was done for. Her would-be rapist pressed himself further onto her body. She had to keep the panic at bay, or she was going to suffocate on it before he subdued her. Frantically, she tried to look around while she attempted to pull his fingers from around her throat.
When she turned her head sideways, she caught the glint of the streetlight shining on something metal. Her vision blurred for a second as she fought for breath, fought to stay conscious. Blinking her eyes a few times, she focused on the object. It was the knife she kept in her bag. It had fallen out during the scuffle.
The rapist bent over her body attempting to kiss and lick her neck while he tried to strangle her. Her fingers scrambled across the concrete, stretching toward the knife. Just a little further. Her vision swam again, and her air supply continued to dwindle. Finally, her fingers grasped the knife handle and with as much energy as she could muster, she drove the blade into his side.
The moment it pierced his flesh, his hold on her went slack. Teagan gasped and spluttered for air, but she managed to drive the knife into him a few more times. After he was slumped across her body and ceased to breathe, she finally stopped. His blood was warm and sticky on her hand and arm that still held the knife.
For a minute, Teagan just lay there, staring up at the night sky. I’m alive. She took a few deep breaths, even though it burned. She had to get him off of her.
“Help,” she wheezed out, not loud enough for anyone to hear. “Help.” Calling out again, she tried to force the word out louder, even though it hurt.
Since the knife was still in her hand, Teagan smacked it against the ground, hoping someone would hear her. Finally, she gathered all of her strength once more and pushed out a raspy, but loud shout for help.
Police sirens wailed in the distance. Had someone heard or possibly seen? Were they coming to help? Suddenly she heard footsteps. Part of her was fearful. What if the person wasn’t there to help her?