Chapter 21
To Do:
- Don’t stab Luke at field day
- Email Torrance for T E engagement pic sneak peek
Claire wavedto Officer Schiccitano as she locked her car door and stepped onto the park path. He had finally been put back on full-time Claire watching duty, and his girthy mustache hadn’t changed a bit. As nice as it was to have a dedicated guardian angel, his presence was a constant reminder of the unseen danger that followed her.
Other than the police, she hadn’t told anyone about the latest threat. She had shoved it to the back of her mind while she was putting together Tyler’s proposal, but now it was starting to resurface. Now was as good a time as any to practice her situational awareness. Any one of these creeps could be the note-leaver. She tightened her grip on Rosie’s leash and ignored her compulsion to pull out her phone and check her emails. Instead, she focused on surveying the other people in the park.
“Lady in a red bandana. Gentleman in a bowler hat carrying a tan briefcase. Creepy twin girls with pigtails screaming about ice cream. Guy with cute butt reading woodworking magazine,” she whispered to herself.
The sun beat down even though it was barely ten a.m. It was going to be a scorcher. She really should have used her heavy-duty primer and setting spray. The metal playground slide on her right looked like it would sear the flesh off the legs of anyone brave enough to get on it. The city should really do something about it.
Nicole had refused Claire’s offer to help with the field day. She was going in blind and about to come face-to-face with Luke for the first time since their blowout. And she needed to fight her natural clumsiness and mercilessly beat him at whatever sporting events Nicole had cooked up. It was sure to be a disaster. But at least she wouldn’t have to speak to him for long.
She crossed the baseball field, searching for her friends and keeping a wary eye on the other people in the park. Officer Shiccitano stayed fifty yards behind her. She really should have brought him a breakfast sandwich. If her memory served her, he had a penchant for pastrami and fried egg.
Oh shit. Was that Luke’s car by the football field? Nausea twisted her stomach,
and her hands shook.
Nope. It was some other douche in a black sedan with tinted windows. For all she knew, it could be her stalker.
“Good luck snatching me with fifty thousand protective men in my wake,” she muttered to the sedan. It was true—between Luke, Kyle, Sawyer, and Officer Shiccitano, no one stood a chance of kidnapping her today. Of course, the last time she had been abducted, she had been twenty feet from a room full of seventy-five people. But this was different.
Finally. There was Nicole. She was bent at the waist, setting up a series of orange cones on the football practice field.
“Do you need help?” Claire called as she approached.
“Nah, I have pretty much everything we need,” Nicole said, kicking a tote at her feet. Brightly colored flag football belts, a coiled rope, and a Frisbee were visible.
Claire looped Rosie’s lead around a nearby tree and secured it with enough slack to allow her beloved furry friend to lay in the sunshine. She pulled a bowl out of her purse and filled it from her water bottle.
“Are you okay?” Nicole asked in a quieter voice. “He’s not here yet.”
Claire shrugged and occupied herself by bending forward, curling her fingers underneath her toes until she felt the tug in her hamstrings. A hot yoga and core crusher class this week had left her primed and ready to kick some ass.
It was weird that Luke wasn’t here yet. A stickler for punctuality, he had been known to berate anyone who was less than ten minutes early. With any luck, his flight would have been cancelled. But luck hadn’t been on her side in some time.
“I’m fine. I’ll have to see him again eventually. I’m just not sure what I’ll say to him. Where’s Mindy?”
“Under that tree,” Nicole said, gesturing to a prone figure in a shady patch of grass.
“Hangover?”
Nicole nodded.
“I hope she’s not on our team.” Claire bent over and reached into her tote bag, digging until she found some ibuprofen, a packet of sugar-free blue Kool-Aid, and a bottle of water. She walked over to the shady spot and plopped down beside Mindy. “Good morning, sunshine.”
Mindy groaned. Her long, wavy black hair was gathered into a messy ponytail,
looped through the snap back of her navy baseball cap. Heavily mirrored sunglasses shielded her eyes.
“Thank you. Why do we have to do this?”
“Because we love Nicole and want her wedding day and every wedding-related event building up to it to be exactly as she imagined,” Claire said, deadpan. She handed the bottle to Mindy, who sat up to guzzle it before returning to the ground, groaning.
“So many shots. Why am I dating a college boy again?”
“Because you like him, and he’s a suspiciously good baker. I’ll see you when it’s time for the first event,” Claire said, patting her on the knee before standing back up.
She hesitated as she crossed the empty stretch of field. Was the ground shaking? An earthquake would be a great excuse to miss this cursed field day. Damn, those safety tips she had looked up while entertaining the idea of a visit to California only covered what to do indoors. Maybe the ground would be merciful and swallow her up before she saw Luke’s stupid face.
A shadow crossed her visual field. Her heart leapt into her throat. Was that a fist swinging out of nowhere? The kickboxing lessons she had taken with her mom in high school came flooding back.
She ducked and spun like a dancer, almost graceful (for once) as she faced her attacker. Her hands automatically came up, one clenched in a fist protecting her jaw, and the other in an attack-ready stance. It was a good thing she had read all those articles on personal safety tips in preparation for her next class with Sawyer. No one would get the jump on her today. An abduction would really put a damper on Nicole’s day.
Sawyer’s massive silhouette blocked out the sunlight. He clapped slowly.
“Excellent work. You were paying attention to your surroundings, and I didn’t even manage to get a hand on you. You’re learning.”
She reached over and slapped him lightly on the arm. “I almost punched you in the face.”
He shrugged. “Generally your attackers aren’t going to send a courtesy note letting you know when they’ll be attacking. You responded well today, but we still have a lot of work to do.”
She checked her watch. Field Day officially started in ten minutes. She cast another glance at the parking lot. No Luke. Maybe a distraction would take the edge off. “Want to go over a couple of things while we wait?”
“That’s a good idea. Okay, so when you were attacked the night of the abduction?—”
Claire flinched.
“Sorry. The night of the incident, you were attacked from behind, weren’t you?”
“Yes, from behind.”
“The favorite attack method of cowards. Okay.” He held her shoulders and stood behind her. “Depending on how someone grabs you, there are several different ways to defend yourself. Let’s say someone comes up behind you and—because you are so small, no offense—puts you in a chokehold.”
He hunched down so he was more at Claire’s level. In one swift motion, his right arm whipped out and squeezed tight around her neck. His biceps bulged into her cheek, squashing her jaw. She fought the urge to dig her nails into his skin and scratch furiously. As the panic rose, she flashed back to the dark hotel hallway, where she had walked, unaware and with mashed potatoes still staining her dress, directly into Barney’s waiting arms. While Barney hadn’t had Sawyer’s strength, he did have chloroform.
Claire glanced across the field. Officer Schiccitano had set up a folding chair at the edge of the baseball diamond. He licked his thumb and turned a page on the paperback he was reading. Mindy had sat up underneath her tree and had slid her sunglasses down her nose, watching their encounter intently.
“Now this feels pretty terrible and effective, doesn’t it?” Sawyer asked.
Claire found that she couldn’t speak easily, so she tried nodding instead.
His arm relaxed and drew away from her neck.
She rubbed her neck and took several deep breaths.
“When you feel someone coming in for a chokehold, the best possible thing you can do to defend yourself is to tuck your chin. When you tuck your chin, you prevent the attacker from getting a firm hold around your windpipe.”
She tucked her chin obediently. Oh good, a double chin. She would hate to look her best when her ex-boyfriend showed up. Was her foundation rubbing off too? Not that she cared. She wasn’t trying to impress Luke. If he even showed up.
“Now grab my wrist and take a step to the side.”
“Which hand?”
“Whichever is closest. Good,” Sawyer said. “By stepping to the side, you’ve thrown me slightly off balance. Next you’re going to take the hand that was grabbing my wrist, and smash it right into my groin. But please don’t actually do that.”
Claire giggled in spite of herself as she brought her arm down in a slashing motion, stopping just before she made contact with his gym shorts.
“Great, now, assuming that your attacker is a male, this is going to hurt like hell and cause him to crumple a little bit. When that happens, take that same elbow and smash it up into my face like you’re pulling the cord on a lawn mower. You should feel it in your shoulder blade. Perfect. Step-groin-nose. Now do it quickly. Your attacker isn’t going to allow you to take your time. Good.”
A sense of calm grew within her even though a 250-pound man held her in a choke hold. She was capable. “But what if my feet don’t touch the ground? What if someone like you who can throw me around like a sack of potatoes attacks me? I can’t take a step if I can’t reach the ground.”
“I’m glad you asked. I’m going to lift you, but just tap my arm twice if anything feels wrong or too uncomfortable.”
When her feet left the ground, dangling uselessly, her anxiety spiked. Her hands tightened around Sawyer’s arm. So much for being strong and capable.
“Move one leg like you’re going to take a step, then swing it back and kick backward as hard as you can. Again, please do not actually kick me in the groin.”
“What the hell?” a very familiar voice asked.
The bottom dropped out of Claire’s stomach. That was Luke’s irritated voice. She had last heard it when he had nearly flipped a table while putting together a one-thousand-piece puzzle of the Grand Canyon.
Sawyer swung around, still holding Claire off the ground. “Oh, hey, Luke. I was just showing Claire some self-defense moves.”
She squirmed and tapped his arm twice.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, quickly releasing her. Her knees nearly crumpled when she hit the ground. Sawyer and Luke both reached out to steady her, then stepped back and stared at each other. The tension in the air was palpable.
“Thanks for showing me that, Sawyer. So basically, always aim for the groin.”
“Congratulations, you have just mastered ninety percent of self-defense.” He laughed and crossed his arms and planted his feet wide, as though he was planning to stake a claim on that particular patch of grass.
She laughed nervously and turned around. The macho energy was exhausting. “Oh, it looks like the bride-to-be needs my help,” she said loudly, taking a step toward the table Nicole had set up.
“No, I don’t,” Nicole called out firmly.
Claire glared at her.
Luke came up beside her and grasped her arm. A rush of heat hit her at his touch. Her skin tingled. He was more tan than he had been in Paris, but the tan couldn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t had a decent sleep—or meal—in a week.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Now isn’t a good time. This is Nicole and Kyle’s day.” She tugged her elbow from his grip. The sun was too bright, but irritated as she was, she wouldn’t have put sunglasses on for anything. She couldn’t stop pouring over every inch of his face, like a comforting book she had read a hundred times. If the book was about a stupid megalomaniac with an affinity for sadism.
Rosie yipped from her tree tether, standing on her back legs and fighting to get to Luke.
“Sawyer, my man!” Kyle called from next to Nicole. “How crazy was that game last night?”
“Hey, Kyle,” Sawyer said, lumbering over to where he stood. He kept his eyes on Claire even as they talked.
“You haven’t called,” Luke said quietly. There was sadness in his sea-green eyes.
Claire raised her eyebrows. She didn’t have time for this. “I’ve been busy. And I don’t want to talk to you.”
He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did you at least play Rosie my bedtime voicemail?”
“I didn’t listen to any of them. I couldn’t.” Her face was hot.
Rosie was fighting her leash, running in half circles and barking to get Luke’s attention.
“Claire, I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face her and holding both of her hands in his. “I’m sorry I asked you to relive that night. You have every right to be upset with me. You are more important to me than any project. But don’t throw away everything we have on one act of stupidity.”
She bit her tongue, holding in the flood of words that she had pent up since she ran away in Paris. Tears pricked in her eyes, but she was not about to waste any more bodily fluids over this idiot. “This really isn’t the time or place to discuss this. I refuse to overshadow Nicole’s gathering with our relationship troubles. We can talk later.”
When Luke withdrew his hands, relief and dismay hit at the same time. He nodded and walked toward the table, greeting Kyle.
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t forgotten about her. There was no evidence of a new girlfriend along with him either. What was she supposed to make of that? And why wouldn’t her stomach come back up to its normal position?
“What happened?” Mindy asked, from behind her.
Claire jumped. Replacing her customary heels with sneakers had rendered Mindy a ninja.
“We’re going to talk later. Maybe.”
Mindy grunted and stared in Luke’s direction. “Do you need me to put some bees in his car? Because I’ll do it. He would never know.”
“I have no doubt. But I’m good, thanks.” Who knew what the universe would do to her next if she put bees in her ex’s car?
Claire crouched next to Nicole,head down and one hand pressed into the grass. Luke’s eyes burned into her, but she refused to look. If Nicole wanted to play football, she wasn’t going to let anything distract her.
Nicole bent over, resting the football on the ground. The red plastic flags attached to her waist danced in the wind.
She snapped the ball back to Mindy, who caught it and sprinted forward like she had been shot out of a cannon. She ran almost to the sideline at full speed, twirling to evade Kyle’s grasp. All the vigorous lovemaking must have kept Mindy in tip-top shape, because she didn’t even look winded when she hit the end zone unimpeded. She took a bow, and Nicole and Claire clapped.
“Impressive,” Kyle said, rolling up the sleeves of his T-shirt. “Our turn.”
Kyle bent over, looking to each side as he formulated his play. He glanced behind him to where Luke waited, hands outstretched. “Kamikaze?”
“Kamikaze.” Luke confirmed.
Kyle tossed the ball backward to Luke, who let out a terrifying yell and stormed straight through the middle of the field. The girls were so startled by the yelling that they didn’t even reach for him until he was five yards beyond them.
Claire slowed down, allowing Nicole to reach Luke’s belt and yank a flag off. She didn’t need to be that close to his quicksand crotch.
“Damn it. First down, though.” He tossed the ball back to Kyle to repeat the process.
In spite of the awkwardness of playing against her ex-boyfriend and the man who saved her life, Claire’s competitive spirit began to emerge. This was something she had control over. She couldn’t keep strangers from trying to kill her, but she could sure as hell run fast enough to rip off some flags and take Luke down a peg.
Kyle snapped the ball to Luke again, who hesitated for a moment, seeking an opening.
“Luke, I’m open!” Sawyer said from Claire’s right.
She edged sideways to cover him, but Luke seemed to be pretending that he hadn’t heard. Sawyer’s jaw hardened as he jogged down the field.
“It’s cute that you think you can cover me,” Sawyer said nonchalantly.
“Whatever,” she said, eyes still on the ball.
Kyle sprinted past her at full speed, and Luke released a perfect spiral.
She sprang into action, sneakers pounding into the grass as she moved to cover the space between them. Sawyer’s footsteps fell behind her. She pivoted and turned into the path of the ball, stretching her hands above her head. The ball slammed into her hands, and Claire winced as it nearly left her fingertips. She managed to snatch it from the air and tuck it into her side, exactly like Roy had taught her.
Just as she secured the ball, something smashed into her right hip, sending her sprawling to the ground. She fell with a heavy thump onto the grass and groaned. Sawyer’s weight abruptly collapsed on top of her, knocking the wind out of her.
“Oof,” she whispered. Were those her ribs cracking or had she accidentally brought a carton of eggs to the field day?
“Shit. Sorry, Claire. I couldn’t stop,” Sawyer said. He rolled away and leaned over her, crouching down and blocking the sun with his head. He reached down and swept away some of the hair that had been loosed from her ponytail. “Are you okay?”
Claire had just opened her mouth to respond when an angry voice interrupted.
“Last time I checked, this was no-tackle football.”
Oh, boy. The testosterone fest that had been simmering all morning was about to come to a boil.
A familiar hand reached out and shoved Sawyer. Sawyer stood with impressive speed for someone of his size and whirled to face Luke. “It was an accident. I apologized. Sorry again, Claire.”
She waved faintly from the ground.
“You could have seriously hurt her.” Luke’s eyes narrowed. His face was flushed, and a vein was visible in his forehead. This was not good. A groomsman fight was not on the agenda for field day.
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure the expert on hurting Claire is standing in front of me,” Sawyer said, danger in his toffee eyes.
If she clutched the football any harder, there was an excellent chance it would pop.
“You son of a bitch.” Luke took a step toward Sawyer. His hand was already clenched in a fist.
A shrill whistle blew.
“Gentlemen,” Nicole said loudly, coming to stand between them. “This is a friendly game of flag football. If you two can’t cooperate, you will be removed from the game. And I don’t think you want Kyle to face all three of us by himself.”
Luke swore under his breath and turned around, striding off to the sidelines.
“Wow, he is super threatened by Sawyer,” Mindy said quietly as she lifted Claire to her feet.
“No kidding.” Jealousy was not a good color on Luke.
The rest of the game was uncomfortable at best. The tension between Sawyer and Luke was palpable. The joyful banter and wisecracking had ceased, and the girls won without difficulty since the groomsmen were too busy infighting.
“Well, that was a disaster,” Nicole said as she packed the last of the flag football belts into the tote.
“I’m so sorry, Coli,” Claire said, putting away the remaining orange slices she had brought. Her cheeks burned. She had ruined a bridal event, something she swore she would never do. And worse, it was for her best friend. “I never thought Luke would act like that.”
“Men,” Nicole said, tutting in disgust. “Oh, shit. We have bigger problems,” she said, staring off into the distance.
“What?” Claire asked, immediately scoping out Rosie. Her furry best friend was still lying in a patch of grass, furiously licking peanut butter out of a treat ball.
“Who’s that guy by your car? That isn’t your cop detail, right? Should we call the detective?”
Claire sighed. “No, that’s not my cop. It’s fine. I’ll explain later.”
Jack Hartley leaned against the hood of Claire’s Audi. Luke stood by his car, staring suspiciously at Jack, and Sawyer hovered two cars down. To a passerby, it probably looked like a strange photo shoot for an album cover.
“You better not be putting yourself in danger again,” Nicole said darkly.
“I’m not. Can I help you take that back to your car?” Claire picked up Nicole’s tote, desperate to delay her departure for another few minutes. Maybe she could just walk home. It was probably only four or five miles. Anything would be better than confronting what waited for her in the parking lot.
“I think you have enough to deal with,” Nicole said. She took the tote from Claire. “But thanks. See you on Wednesday for the final approval of the staging?”
“I’ll be there. How are the pieces looking?”
“Great. The gallery is almost done. We’re having a six-by-four frame brought in for the print of Aaron’s drawing.”
“Perfect.” Claire reached for her notebook. She jotted down a quick note and tossed it back into her bag. “Have you seen the work in progress?”
“I saw it on Friday. He took some lessons. It’s so good,” Nicole said, smiling in the same dreamy way Claire did when she was imagining a happy ending. “He took such care with the details—the wrinkles in his jeans, the curls in her hair.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” A thrill ran through Claire. It was going to be nothing short of magic. “And you’re sure blowing it up isn’t going to make it look all pixely and terrible?”
“Relax, I know a guy. It’ll be perfect.”
“Did you get the box of twinkle lights I sent over?”
“Yes, I was thinking of putting them—hey, knock it off. I know what you’re doing. Stop dillydallying and go deal with that shitshow.” Nicole gestured toward the parking lot. “And text me later.”
“Damn it.” Claire slung her bag over one shoulder. “Fine.”
She took her time crossing the field and untying Rosie, uncomfortably aware of the three sets of eyes on her. Though slightly out of breath by the time she trudged up the hill, she would rather be kidnapped by Barney again than admit it.
“Jack,” she said.
“Afternoon, Claire,” he said formally. A gust of wind shot through the parking lot, but not a single hair moved on his moussed head. Was wind-proof hair maintenance something they taught at the FBI?
He bent and extended a hand to Rosie, who sniffed it suspiciously. She didn’t bark, but she hid behind Claire’s legs.
“I was wondering if you had given any thought to what we discussed earlier,” he said, standing back up and crossing his arms.
“I’ll do it,” Claire said. Survivor’s guilt had settled heavy on her heart after days of staring at the bright faces of the Widowmaker victims. Five women before her died because they didn’t have a Sawyer to leap in and tase Barney. If she had the ability to get some closure for the families, she would squeeze every last bit of information from that chloroform-toting maniac. The new murder binder in her purse contained notes about what Jack had told her and pictures of the mark on her neck.
“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised above the rim of his mirrored sunglasses. “You’ll go see him in prison?”
She nodded. It was sure to be the worst thing she’d done since getting abducted, but this time Barney would be in chains. The control was hers.
“Come by the precinct tomorrow,” Jack said. “We’ll discuss your tactics.”
“Tomorrow doesn’t work. I’ll come on Tuesday,” she said firmly, staring him down.
“Very well.” He walked around the front of his car and opened his door. “Oh, and Claire?”
“Yes?” If he was going to ask her for some other exorbitant favor, she was going to give him a colossal wedgie and roll him down the grassy hill into that children’s soccer game.
“Nice form down there,” Jack said, gesturing to the football field.
“Roy taught me a lot,” she said over her shoulder as she buckled Rosie into her seatbelt.
“I’m sure he did.” His smile faded, and he ducked back into his car.
As soon as Jack’s car door closed, Luke and Sawyer both moved toward her at the same time.
Claire held up a hand. “Sawyer first,” she said. That was likely to be the far less messy conversation.
The vein in Luke’s forehead started to bulge out again, but he stood silently by his car.
“Did he come to ask you about the thing?” Sawyer asked in a loud whisper, crossing his arms and frowning.
Luke’s eyes narrowed.
“He did,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’m going to do it. I feel like I have a duty. I don’t want anyone else to go through what I did. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to see him ever again, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him to talk, but those families need closure. And if there really are more homicidal incels like him out there, they need to be brought down.”
“I’ll help you.” Sawyer reached out and touched her arm gently.
“Thank you. I may need it.” The hood of her car was hot beneath her back as she leaned against it. Perfect, more back sweat before she spoke to Luke. “See you for class on Wednesday?”
“Sounds good. And wear a dress this time, or an outfit you would normally wear when walking around downtown. Don’t forget to take this out before you go home.” He tugged on her ponytail.
“I won’t.” She smiled and reached up. The elastic snapped as she tugged it from her hair. Curls fell down her back, engulfing her in the smell of rose hips and jojoba.
“See you later.” He gave a small wave and climbed into his black pickup truck.
“Who was that?” Luke asked, already leaning against the hood of her car.
“That was my biological father, Jack.” Claire fidgeted with her keys. She would have rather thrown herself face-first into a cauldron of discarded bacon grease than chat with her ex about her deadbeat dad. What was it, National Asshole Day?
“Your bio-dad?” Luke stared off into the distance as though he meant to get a second look. “As in the one who abandoned you almost twenty years ago?”
“The one and only.”
“What the hell is he doing back now?” He reached through the back window to pet Rosie, who rolled onto her back and wriggled in her car seat.
Claire took a deep breath. “There’s a lot of stuff going on right now that I’m trying to deal with. He’s one of those things.”
“I hate not knowing what’s going on in your life. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to talk to you after Paris.” Her cheeks were hot and tight from sweat. She just wanted a nice shower and maybe some light murder research. Was that so much to ask for?
“Why was he here?” he probed.
“He works for the FBI. Long story short, I’m going to see Barney in prison.”
Luke blinked. “Why the hell would you do that?”
She paused. Luke didn’t know about the existence of Barney’s mysterious group. If it even existed. She didn’t owe him an explanation. He practically had a full-time job in keeping things from her. Why shouldn’t he be in the dark for once?
“For…closure,” she decided. Ha. Screw him.
“Are you sure that’s going to help? Facing him?” he asked softly, reaching out and rubbing her arm, which was covered in goosebumps despite the sticky humidity. His touch only elicited more. Ugh.
“I’m certain that it will help more than hashing it out on camera for an audience of thousands,” Claire said coolly, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and getting into her car.
She drove away without a backward glance.