Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
K nox strode down the sidewalk, watching as a clever, young pickpocket bumped into a tourist. As the dark-haired woman reached for the man’s wallet, Knox caught her gaze.
She stopped and pulled a face. Then turned and disappeared into the crowd. No doubt to find her next victim.
Turning back to the hot dog stand, Knox handed over some cash to the smiling vendor, and took his hot dog. The stand was covered by a bright yellow umbrella.
He figured he couldn’t move to New York and not have a hot dog.
Taking a few bites, he headed back down the street, passing some restaurants and convenience stores.
His cellphone rang. Chewing the last bite of hot dog, he pulled the phone out of his jacket. “Holman.”
“Knox, it’s Killian.”
“Problem?” He didn’t like the tense tone of his boss’ voice.
“Where’s Nick? He’s not answering his phone.”
“He got a call that Lainie fainted,” Knox told Killian. “He was pretty freaked out. He’s on his way to meet her at the hospital.”
Killian cursed.
Knox frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nola called. She went to view an empty penthouse for work, but it wasn’t empty. She saw the head of the local Russian mafia shoot a man in the head.”
“ Fuck ,” Knox bit out. “She okay?”
“No. Zolotov’s men chased her. She’s hiding in an alley.”
Ice filled Knox’s veins. Nola was tiny. Her up against a bunch of hardened Russian enforcers…
He had to get to her.
“I assume if she gives her statement to the cops about what she saw, and testifies, it’s going to put this Zolotov away?”
“Correct.”
“And he’ll do anything to stop that.”
“Yes. He’s known for being bloody and vicious. Knox, you’re the closest to her—”
“Give me the address. I’ll get her.”
“I’m sending it to your phone.” Hex’s voice cut across the line. “The High Line Tower. I tracked her phone and she’s in an alley north of the building.”
Knox checked the map on his phone, then turned into the next street. He picked up speed. “Once I get her?”
“Keep her safe,” Killian said. “And get her back to Sentinel Security.”
“Wait!” Hex cried. “We have a problem. I pulled up all the CCTV feed around the High Line Tower. Zolotov is flooding the streets with his men.”
“What?” Killian barked.
“Three black SUVs just pulled up in front of the building. Facial rec is going crazy. They’re all foot soldiers for Zolotov.”
Knox’s jaw tightened. There was no way this Zolotov would let Nola live. In his mind, he saw her flirty smile, pretty eyes, the sassy look on her face.
Fuck, no . He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
“I’m ending the call,” he clipped. “I’ll get to her.”
“Knox, stay safe,” Killian ordered. “Get our girl.”
Knox shoved the phone in his jacket pocket. Then he ran.
Okay, being scared out of your brain was no fun.
Huddled behind the smelly dumpster, Nola tried some breathing techniques she’d learned from her occasional yoga classes.
It worked well after a long day at the office, not so much when you were running for your life.
She hoped George the doorman was okay.
“Nick will be here soon,” she whispered, clenching her hands together. “You’ll be fine.”
There was a noise at the mouth of the alley.
She crouched down lower, heart thumping hard against her ribs. She hoped it wasn’t Russians, or rats. She hated rats.
She heard someone whistling and glanced around the edge of the dumpster. Farther down the alley, a man was dumping some trash in another dumpster. He must have come out of one of the buildings.
Sinking back against the wall, she closed her eyes.
Then she heard the low murmur of voices. Her eyes popped open, and her heart leaped into her throat. They were talking Russian.
Oh, crap.
She carefully leaned forward and peered around the dumpster again. The scent of rotting food made her stomach turn. Two men in dark suits stood at the entrance to the alley. One was gesturing deeper into the alley, and the other was shaking his head.
Suddenly, a third man joined them, barking orders at the pair. After a second, that man strode off.
How many were there? Her throat tightened. Were they all looking for her?
One of the men stepped into the alley. He started glancing side to side.
Nola pulled back.
Crap . What now? She couldn’t fit under the dumpster. Any moment, he’d reach her and spot her.
Hurry up, Nick.
She had no idea how long it would take for her brother to arrive. There was a piece of soggy cardboard beside her. She held it up. Maybe she could hide behind it?
She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t going to do much.
Scanning the ground, she spotted a broken umbrella amongst the trash. She lifted it up. The fabric was all torn away, just leaving the handle and wire frame.
It wasn’t the best weapon, but it was better than nothing.
She gripped the handle tightly and listened as the guy came closer. He was muttering under his breath. Yeah, he probably didn’t like the reek from the dumpster, either. He kicked something, and she heard a can clatter across the alley.
Nola bit her lip, her heart beating so hard she felt like it would burst out of her chest. She adjusted her grip on the umbrella.
The man stepped into view, spotted her, and grinned.
Nola charged up, swinging the umbrella. She smacked into the man’s massive chest. She swung again, but this time, he grabbed it and yanked it out of her hands.
Shit . She stepped backward, and he stepped forward.
Nola darted forward, trying to get around him.
He grabbed a handful of her shirt and she gasped. He spun her around and slammed her into the side of the dumpster with a clang.
Her face connected with the metal, pain throbbing along her cheek bone. She cried out.
Then he dragged her closer until she was up on the tips of her toes. She jerked and wriggled, trying to get free, but he was so much bigger and stronger.
“Let me go, asshole!”
Holding her with one hand, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket with the other. No doubt to call his boss.
Her chest squeezed. Nick was going to be too late. God, he’d blame himself. She’d never get to see her baby niece.
More footsteps sounded on the pavement—slow and deliberate—and Nola’s heart sank. She couldn’t fight off two of them. She glanced back, and saw the shape of another big man in a jacket.
Despair gripped her.
But the newcomer surged forward. He reached over her, and punched her captor in the face.
The Russian released her, and she staggered backward. She slammed into a hard body, and looked up into Knox’s rugged face.
Nola gasped.
His gray gaze was narrowed. He looked hard, focused, dangerous.
He nudged her aside and lunged at her attacker. Knox hit the man again, and the Russian roared. He shouldered forward, rammed into Nola, and knocked her to the ground.
Oof . Grit crunched under her palms. She lifted her head and watched the fight.
Knox fisted a hand in the front of the man’s shirt and rammed an uppercut into his gut. The man let out a choked sound, swinging an arm up. Knox avoided it, and punched him in the face.
The punches were hard, ruthless, and powerful.
Finally, Knox shoved the Russian, and he fell to the dirty concrete, unmoving. Knox flexed his hands and turned.
“Nola? You okay?” He helped her up.
“I’m okay. I’m fine.” She could barely breathe. A huge rush of emotion gripped her. She threaded her hands together. “I… I…” Her voice cracked.
Then brawny arms engulfed her.
She clung to Knox. He was so big and solid and hard.
Strong.
She felt safe.
She held on tight.