Chapter 8
EIGHT
Sulfur and ash and gasoline stung Lucy’s nostrils. She coughed, the hard press of Cormac’s arm jarring her stomach as he ran. Each step made his grip tighten against her ribs, constricting her lungs. She struggled to breathe, struggled to make sense of what had just happened.
The squeal of tires made her look up in time to see Sam pull the van up a few feet away. He leaned across the seats to throw the passenger door open.
“Get her out of here,” Cormac clipped, then unceremoniously tossed Lucy into the waiting Elite Security van. She tumbled over the seat, gasping for breath.
“Copy,” Sam answered, and the door slammed behind Lucy. “Put your seatbelt on, darling,” he added, then hit the gas.
Thrown against her seat, she struggled to sit up. Once her belt was clipped, she whirled around to try to catch a glimpse of Cormac.
She spotted him halfway to the lot adjoining the hotel’s, which was attached to a gas station and convenience store. Arms pumping, Cormac covered incredible distance as he sprinted. His body was a work of art, clothing pressed against his front to reveal the sheer power of his movements.
The man he chased circled around a car near the gas station. He looked at Cormac across the roof of the car, and Lucy saw it clear as day: it wasn’t Aaron Phillips. Someone else had blown up her car. Cormac hopped a chain link fence with the kind of grace that shouldn’t be possible in a man his size. The man opened the passenger door of his getaway car as Cormac picked up speed.
Lucy’s heart was in her throat. She pressed her nose to the glass as she watched the getaway car burn a black mark into the pavement, tires squealing, Cormac only a few feet behind. She’d never seen anyone move like that. Her breaths were jagged as the van rumbled beneath her, and then Sam was turning a corner and driving away.
The sound of the Bluetooth system in the van drew her attention forward.
“Sam Walters from Elite Security,” he said when the call connected. “We have an incident at the Gladstone Hotel. A car exploded.”
“Exploded?” the gruff voice on the line replied.
“White Ford Focus belonging to Lucy Barlow. She’s here with me, and I’m taking her to our offices. Suspect got into a gold Crown Vic with McKenna in pursuit.”
“Stand down,” the man replied. “We’re sending units. Did you hear me? Tell your man to stand down.”
Sam’s jaw tensed. “I’ll try,” he said, and he hung up the call. He pressed another button on his steering wheel and a moment later, Cormac answered. “Cops are sending units,” Sam explained. “They want you to stand down.”
“They turned down Maple,” Cormac answered, naming one of the main streets that cut the length of the town. “I’m two minutes behind them. Lucy?”
“She’s here.” Sam scanned her. It was quick, but Lucy could tell the two-second glance took in a lot of information. “Rattled, but fine.”
“Well, get off the phone and get her to the safe room like I ordered.”
The call cut off, and Sam huffed. “Gave it a shot,” he told Lucy, who was just beginning to catch her breath. Sam drove with expert precision, never over the speed limit, always checking surrounding cars. They pulled into an underground parking lot under the Elite Security offices.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Sam cut the engine. He didn’t park in a spot, but rather stopped the car just a couple of feet from the nearby elevator. Then he slipped from the car and scanned the lot while circling around to her side.
Ushered into the elevator, she leaned against the mirrored wall and let out a breath. Sam stood in front of the elevator door as they traveled upward, tension radiating from his body. It wasn’t until they were in the Elite Security offices that Sam relaxed. They passed an empty reception desk, the building dark. Sam led her down the hallway, then closed and locked a solid steel door that shut off the kitchen area from the front of the building.
His face still grim, Sam led her to a room set up with a couch, a TV, and a small dining set. “I’ll call the boss,” he told her, then waved at the room. “Make yourself at home.”
“What’s going on? What happened?” Lucy finally croaked. Her fingers and toes were ice cold. Her brain seemed to be moving at a glacial pace.
“Not sure yet, but it looks like someone planted a device on your car. Must have detonated early.”
Lucy gaped. She’d been there when the explosion happened, of course, but their escape had been so efficient that she’d almost believed she’d imagined it. Hearing Sam say it so plainly sent cold shivers trickling down her spine.
“They wanted to…kill me?” The words came out as a whisper.
Sam sighed. “Help yourself to coffee or tea,” he said gently, pointing to the kitchenette in the corner. “There are snacks in the fridge. I’ll call Cormac. Once we have more information, we can figure out the next steps.”
Putting on a brave face, she nodded at the other man. He was as tall as Cormac and built like a linebacker. His blond hair was cut short, his face clean-shaven. She wanted a hug, but she doubted getting one from Sam would make her feel better.
When he disappeared behind the door, Lucy let out a trembling breath. She drifted to the kitchenette and stared at the cups, plates, and coffee-making implements like she was an alien who’d just landed on Earth and had no idea what she was supposed to do with them. Deciding that coffee would be too much effort for her sluggish brain, she picked up a glass with trembling hands and filled it with cool water.
She should call her parents and tell them she was okay, but she could hardly manage to work the taps. Speaking about her car exploding was beyond her.
Her phone buzzed. Scarlett, asking if she was okay. Lucy’s fingertips felt numb as she typed back a quick response. I’m fine , she wrote. At Cormac’s office .
Scarlett replied, What happened????? Your car exploded?????
Lucy closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. Yeah , she wrote back. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?
Let me know if you need anything. You can stay at my place tonight , she said, and Lucy felt a rush of gratitude. Her friends were the best.
The door opened. Lucy turned, but it wasn’t Cormac who filled the opening.
A slim man with a laptop and messy hair entered, giving her a crooked smile. “So you’re the one who’s got the boss’s panties in a twist!” He dropped onto the long couch and set his laptop on his thighs. “When Marlon got married, I told Cormac he’d be next, but did he listen to me? Nooo.”
A bit of tension eked out of her. Lucy sipped her water. “Um. Cormac and I aren’t…together.”
“Ha!” The man’s fingers danced over his laptop, and then he reached for the side table without looking. Frowning when his hand met empty air, he set the laptop on the coffee table and disappeared through the door again. A moment later, he came back with a coffee mug decorated with a sparkly kitten. Sam loomed behind him, scowling.
“Let’s go over the security camera footage,” the scrawny man said brightly before slurping from his cup and grabbing his laptop.
“Elton, give her a minute.” He arched his brows at the other man, clearly communicating something along the lines of, Can’t you tell she’s about to have a nervous breakdown, you idiot?
“No, it’s fine,” Lucy cut in. “I want to see.”
“See?” Elton replied. “She’s fine! The boss wouldn’t date a woman who couldn’t handle a little exploding car.”
“We’re not dating,” Lucy repeated, then added, “Does this kind of thing happen a lot in your business?”
Elton spun the laptop around, ignoring her question. “There. Press the spacebar to play it.”
Crossing the tile floor, Lucy took a seat next to Elton. She pressed play and watched herself approach her car on the grainy footage. She waved a hand on the screen, saying goodbye to Cormac and Sam, then slowed as another man entered the frame. With his hood up and a ball cap on his head, she couldn’t see his face.
“You think that’s Aaron Phillips?” Sam asked, looking over her shoulder.
“No,” Lucy replied. “I saw his face; it wasn’t Aaron. Plus, this guy is tall and thin. Aaron is only a couple of inches taller than I am.”
The man kneeled, got up, walked away, and a moment later the screen went white with the explosion. Lucy’s stomach knotted. It didn’t make her feel better to see the events on the screen. Her heart thumped as bile rose in her throat.
She could have been inside that car. She could have died .
The panic that had evaded her before rose up like a wave. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to suck in a long breath to calm her racing heart. It was too much. All she wanted to do was sell wedding stationery. Was it really worth her life?
She should never have gone to the Expo. She should have stayed at home, where it was safe. This was just a consequence of trying to get over her very reasonable fears. She’d crashed and burned her career once, and that should have been a lesson. Now she was under attack. An unstable, unpredictable psycho was trying to kill her . What if he attacked her again? What if he went after her parents? Her friends?
Breathing felt like inhaling shards of glass. She couldn’t get enough oxygen. All she could see was the white of the explosion on the screen. The scent of soot and sulfur still burned her nostrils.
Distantly, she heard a door open, but her mind whirled with the screech of panic. She gripped her hair, trying to use the points of pain to bring her back down to earth. Someone made her car explode , and Lucy was in way over her head.
A familiar voice said, “Leave us,” and a moment later, the scent of comfort and strength washed over her. Warmth encased Lucy’s body as she was lifted from the seat and tucked against a strong body. Finally, she could fill her lungs.
“That’s it,” Cormac rumbled. “In and out. Deep breaths. You’re okay. I’m here, Lucy. Just breathe.”
Face mashed against the side of his neck, she breathed in the scent of his skin. As rational thought returned to her mind, she realized she was clinging to him with a white-knuckled grip. Her fingernails were clenched into Cormac’s shoulders so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d drawn blood. Loosening her hold on him, she sucked in another breath.
His arms were around her, one hand drawing long, smooth lines up and down her arm, his other arm banded across her thighs. His touch was a drug. She’d never felt so calm, so peaceful.
Stroking the shoulder that she’d been gripping so hard with her fingernails, Lucy asked, “Did I hurt you?”
Cormac’s laughter was a huff of breath coasting across her temple. “Only as much as a kitten would.”
Clicking her tongue, she glared at the scruff on his jaw but didn’t move. His arm kept stroking, and it felt like someone had turned all her limbs to lead. She couldn’t move—or maybe she just didn’t want to.
“I could have died,” Lucy said in a small voice.
Cormac’s arms tightened ever so slightly and then relaxed, as if he’d forced himself to ease his grip. “You’re safe now.”
“I make wedding invitations, Cormac. I don’t understand.” Lifting herself up, she looked into his eyes. Right now, they were the color of late twilight—nearly black with a hint of blue. There was darkness in his gaze, an ancient anger that had been drawn out by the day’s events. But there was something else there too—worry, for her, maybe. Lucy sucked in a breath. “Why would someone do this?”
Cormac’s jaw was hard as he held her gaze. His hand slid up to stroke her cheek, thumb tracing the shape of her cheekbone. It was intimate and unexpected. When Cormac spoke, his voice was soft. “I’ll find out, Lucy, and I’ll stop them.”
Deep certainty coated his words, and Lucy felt a pulse in her chest, as if a hidden part of her was responding to his vow. For once, she wasn’t alone.
A knock on the door interrupted them. Sam poked his head through. “Cops are here,” he said, blinking when he saw Lucy perched on Cormac’s lap.
She tried to squirm off him, but his grip tightened, and she was trapped. She didn’t really mind.
Cormac said, “Put them in the large conference room. We’ll be right there.”
It wasn’t until the door closed again that he loosened his grip, almost reluctantly. They stood, and Lucy straightened her clothes and hair. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then turned to the man who had drawn her out of the jaws of panic.
“What happens now?” Lucy asked.
“We tell the cops everything we know, and then I take you home.”
“You think I’ll be safe at my apartment? You said the doors and windows weren’t?—”
“Not your home, Lucy,” Cormac interrupted, his gaze daring her to argue. “You’re coming to mine.”