Chapter 4 #3
The assailant was too busy bashing the rear quarter panel and window on the poor car to notice my approach. I wanted to keep it that way.
“What’s that noise?” Archer demanded.
“An assault on a vehicle. Get here.”
“I’m already on my way. Almost to the SUV. Should you approach this perp alone?”
“So far, the assailant has only brandished a crowbar. I can survive that.”
The electric golf cart battery died, and I bit back another curse. The hooded assailant jerked his head up, noticing me for the first time.
Launching myself out of the cart, I commanded, “Don’t move.”
The assailant froze like a deer in headlights for all of two seconds before he turned and ran.
I pumped my arms and legs fast in pursuit, smiling to myself because I had done my homework, and his chosen path only led to trouble.
Sure enough, I rounded the building and saw that the perp had trapped himself between the building on the right, an eight-foot stone wall on the left, and a six-foot privacy fence in front of him that surrounded the outdoor pool, where the occupants jammed to seventies’ disco music.
The only real escape was for this asshole to get past me, and that would not happen.
“Together. Spread ’em. Together. Spread ’em,” called out a man on the other side of the fence.
The assailant raised his crowbar as if he might charge me, then launched it over the pool’s privacy fence instead.
He took two steps back to get a run, then leaped toward the top of the fence, landing in the middle with an awkward splat.
The guy somehow held on to the top of the fence and dug his toes into the wood to climb the rest of the way.
His slow progress allowed me to hit the fence directly behind him.
My lead foot landed in the middle of the board, and I used the momentum to propel me up high enough to see over the top.
Gripping the fence, I flung my body over the boards, eyes scanning the surroundings to see where the man with the crowbar had gone.
My gaze landed on a bare-chested, hot guy balanced on the edge of a chair with his toned legs extending in front of him.
He was stuck in the spread ’em position as he gaped at me, which sent my mind to places it had no business going under the circumstances.
Awareness sparked and sizzled in my brain as familiar eyes locked on me and widened in surprise.
I still couldn’t tell if they were green or brown.
The world around us faded away, and my descent seemed to slow.
Keeping my attention on Atticus was stupid and dangerous.
I needed to survey the rest of the area, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him, not even when I landed on the concrete with a jarring thud.
That momentary distraction allowed the assailant to take a swing at me with the crowbar.
I felt the air move and ducked just in the nick of time, so the blow glanced off my shoulder instead of hitting me in the head.
I lowered my shoulders and rammed them into his gut, lunging forward with more strength than was necessary to make the tackle.
One minute, my feet were on solid ground, and the next, I was falling through air and splashing into the water.
My attacker squirmed in my grip, but I wasn’t about to let go.
I wanted to take the fucker down to the bottom of the pool and alligator roll him until he stopped moving.
But a cooler head prevailed, and I dragged the assailant to the surface of the pool.
“Over here, Hawk,” Archer called out. “Christ, are you hurt? I told you to wait for me.”
“I’m fine. Quit your nagging.” I hauled the perp to the edge of the pool, and Archer grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie and roughly dragged him onto the concrete. I placed my hands on the edge of the pool and pushed myself out of the water to several cheers and a smattering of applause.
Atticus pushed to his feet and ran over to me.
His eyes studied me with concern, and I had the answer to my question about his eye color.
Hazel-brown with green striations and tiny gold flecks.
I needed to assess the situation, but I couldn’t force myself to look away from Atticus.
Damn, he was even more beautiful in person than in his photos.
His messy, dark hair made me think of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, and I got hit with a pang of longing so fierce that I doubled over.
Something unwelcome and terrifying stirred in my chest and caused my lungs to freeze. Fuck, I couldn’t breathe.
A hand landed between my shoulders, and I knew it didn’t belong to Archer.
Atticus was touching me, and I wanted to press into it instead of pulling away.
There was so much I wanted to say to Atticus.
I owed him an apology for flaking out on him and then lying about it.
But after less than five minutes with Atticus, I knew I’d been right to cancel our hookup. He made me feel too much.
“Are you okay?” Atticus asked, his voice soft with worry.
I lifted my head and looked at him. Big mistake. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes, and a smattering of freckles dotted his cheeks and nose. I commanded myself to avert my gaze and pull away from his touch, but I did neither.
“Where do you hurt?” Atticus moved his hand over to caress my shoulder. “There’s a hard lump forming here already? Do you think he broke your shoulder?”
I shook my head because words were impossible. I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. Exhaling slowly, I repeated the process until I pulled myself together and gradually straightened to my full height. Atticus dropped his hand as he rose with me, and I missed his touch immediately.
“I’m fine,” I replied, taking a few steps backward. “Everything just happened so fast.”
The squawk of walkie-talkies caught my attention as more of our security team arrived on the scene.
“Cops are on the way,” Archer said as he secured the squirming assailant’s hands behind his back with zip ties. “What the hell happened here?”
“I caught this asshole bashing the hell out of a car in the parking lot. I commanded him not to move, but he ran instead.”
“He took a swing at your head too,” Atticus said. “Thankfully, he missed.”
Archer gave his full attention to Atticus and grinned.
“Well, hello,” he said, deepening his voice because he couldn’t seem to turn off the charm when a sexy man was near.
Atticus was off-limits, and I’d make sure Archer knew it.
Not because I wanted him for myself, but to remind Archer that getting involved with the Silver Maple staff was bad for business.
“We haven’t met yet, though I saw you rush by my office this morning.
” Archer caught my gaze and smirked. “You looked a little distressed.”
Atticus glanced in Archer’s direction but didn’t react to the flirty tone.
He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from mine, and I liked it far too much.
“It was a terrible morning,” Atticus said with a frown.
“And it seems like my day won’t get better anytime soon because my car was the only one parked in the lot when I arrived.
Let me guess. This guy beat the hell out of an ancient Subaru? ”
“That’s the one,” I replied.
Archer leaned over and dramatically yanked the guy’s hoodie off his head like it was a Scooby-Doo villain reveal. “Know him?”
“Unfortunately.” Atticus sighed as if he carried the weight of the world. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”