2. Chapter One Laurent #2
Now it’s time to run like hell. In my fucking loafers.
I’ve always been fast, but tonight I guess I’m not fast enough.
One second I’m running through the damn sprinklers again, and the next I’m face-planting and eating a mouthful of wet grass.
My entire body jerks backward as he tries to yank the messenger bag off my body.
And then I realize he’s cutting through the strap.
Twisting around as it breaks, I make a mad grab for my bag, and we momentarily struggle in a wild tug of war.
His face is covered, so I can’t see his features, but dark eyes glare at me through the mask’s holes.
He looks extremely pissed off, too. And while I may be taller by quite a few inches, his stockiness works to his advantage.
He manages to wrench the bag out of my hands, but I’m not one to give up easily.
Launching myself through the air, I tackle him to the ground just as the sprinkler tick-tick-ticks back over, soaking us further.
Rolling across the wet lawn, I’ve got a good grip on the bag when a sudden stinging sensation tears down my side.
I immediately let go of the torn strap and exhale a sharp gasp.
Flat on my back, clutching right below my ribs, I helplessly watch as the man jumps up, wielding my bag in his right hand and a bloody knife in his left.
Putain de merde! The asshole stabbed me!
Before I can utter a word, he’s gone, disappearing into the night—with the goddamn prize.
The sensation in my side goes from stinging to flat-out burning like hell. Slightly in shock, I look up at the bright moon hanging high above in the black velvet sky. Then I lift my hand and stare at the blood smeared across my fingers. This can’t be good.
With a grunt, I reach into my pants pocket and pull out my cell phone. This is where my life feels really sad, because I don’t have anyone I can call for help. The only person I can think of who might be able to assist in some way—even though she’s several states away—is Addison Mills.
I’ve always admired her pluck and dogged determination to get shit done. In addition, the woman is gorgeous with a lovely head of dirty blonde waves, and I’ve harbored an unrequited crush on her for the last few years. I never tried to actually woo her, though. Women are nothing but trouble.
Of course, if I had made the effort, I have no doubts she’d be mine now.
Instead, she’s engaged to former Detective Cole Vaughn, but I still have fun flirting with her whenever we run into each other.
And it’s always fun pissing off Vaughn when I do it.
He’s far too easy to rile up, and it amuses me to no end.
I hesitate for the briefest moment before calling, then I remember she owes me. I helped save her friend Lincoln Decker’s life not too long ago, and then I handed over a ruby and diamond necklace she’d wanted. She’s lucky she always seems to catch me when I’m feeling charitable.
I just hope she returns the favor.
As the sprinkler sprays me again, I pull her number up in my phone. She has no idea, but I snuck her cell off her one night and programmed my number in there as a joke. Trickster me has never been more grateful for that behavior, because Addie might be my only hope.
The line begins to ring, and I hope to God she answers. I don’t think I’m being too dramatic when I say I think I can feel my life draining out of me.
“Hello, Laurent.”
Oh, thank God.
Addie lets out a weary sigh, not sounding at all pleased to hear from me. “This better be good because I’m busy.”
A hot sizzle of pain flashes up my side, and I groan. Trying to move out of the sprinkler’s line of fire, I let out a low grunt.
“Laurent? Hello?”
“Hey…Tootsie Pop,” I manage to say. “I’m in…a bit of trouble.”
“And you called me?”
What am I supposed to say? I have no one else to call?
“You owe me. Remember?” I don’t know if it’s my imagination or if this fucking wound is starting to hurt even more.
“What do you need, Laurent?” a deep voice asks. She must have me on speaker because now it’s Cole talking to me. Oh, great. “We’re not in the mood for games, so just tell us.”
Cole Vaughn has always been a pain in my ass, and I have no idea what Addie sees in him. Trying to sound like my usual nonchalant self, I chuckle, but it turns into a pained gasp. Clutching my side, I cough and mutter a low curse. “Well, for starters, it appears I’ve been slightly injured.”
“What happened? Where are you?” Addie asks.
“Coronado Island,” I grunt, propping my back against a tree.
“We’re over a thousand miles away. What can we possibly do?” Cole’s tone is as dry as his boring personality.
“I need a place to lay low. Just for a bit.”
“My brother’s in San Diego,” Addie murmurs. “Here, talk to him.”
Delight of all delights, it’s Cole again. “Do I have to?” he asks flatly, and I wish I could punch his stupid face. That’s saying a lot since I’m not a man normally prone to physical violence. “Hang on, Laurent, Addie is calling her brother.”
“No rush,” I respond, looking down at the red blossoming across my linen shirt. It feels like my side is on fucking fire. “I’m just probably dying.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Cole sighs. “So, are you going to tell us what happened or what?”
No, connard, I’m not.
I can hear Addie talking to someone in the background, but I’d rather say nothing than make small talk with her jealous fiancé.
“Laurent?” It’s Addie again.
“I’m here.”
“There’s a little restaurant just off Main Street called Charlie’s Place.”
I struggle to make the connection. How the hell is that going to help me? “Not much in the mood for a dinner date,” I mutter, hoping to piss off Vaughn.
“My brother’s sister-in-law will be closing up,” Addie continues. “Laurent, go to Charlie’s Place and ask for Savannah, okay?”
“I’m not sure I can make it,” I tell her, but all I hear is silence…followed by more silence. With a frown, I look down at my phone and see the battery is dead.
Putain de merde. I lost the damn book, ruined my Italian loafers and got stabbed. Not to mention, I’m muddy, soaked and smell like wet grass. Oh, and I need to find out where the hell this Charlie’s Place is and hope some sister-in-law is there before I bleed out.
Could this night get any worse?