Читать книгу Dead Run - Jodie Bailey - Страница 13

FOUR

With Casey close behind, Kristin flipped on the floodlights and shoved through the door onto the low deck, the evening chill a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

Two men were locked in battle at the corner of the house, one besting the other.

A very familiar one besting the other. This couldn’t be happening. None of this could be happening. Heart hammering, Kristin jumped the steps into the yard. “What is going on here?”

The masked man Lucas had pinned by the chest to the privacy fence took advantage of the momentary distraction. Twisting sideways and throwing his elbow up, he caught Lucas in the chin, relaxing the hold enough to duck and run for the front yard.

Casey bolted into the house. “I’m on it.”

“Casey, don’t.” Too late. She’d already disappeared. That drive to be helpful was going to be her downfall someday.

As Kristin gathered herself and joined the pursuit, Lucas ran for the gate, pounding his palm against the rough wood as tires screeched on a side street two houses away. When he turned toward Kristin, the shadows in the side yard cast a fierce mask over his countenance, deepening his eyes and highlighting the strong set of his jaw.

The sight of him almost drove Kristin back, but the fear zinging through her had nothing to do with the man and everything to do with her reaction. Lucas Murphy was gradually inching a hold around her heart.

And he’d been knee-deep in two questionable situations on the same day. With her emotions tangled and the other threat gone, everything focused on Lucas, Kristin’s brain spinning too fast to acknowledge the enormity of what was truly happening.

Kristin squared her shoulders, half to take authority and half to warn her galloping heartbeat that now was not the time. Lucas couldn’t continue to jump in to save her. She didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t he grasp she could handle this? “What are you doing here?”

He ought to look like a sheepish little boy caught stealing from his grandmother’s cookie jar. Instead, he tipped his chin in defiance and strode closer with an air of belonging, his shoulders squared like he was ready to do battle all over again, this time with her. “I’m making short work of the guy who tried to break into your house.”

She wasn’t sure what spiked her blood pressure more—someone trying to violate her life for the third time in one day, or Lucas playing witness and would-be protector. They were supposed to be casual acquaintances, borderline friends, not some damsel in distress and her knight in shining armor. “I can take care of myself. Casey and I were both here, and I’m—”

“Not being very vigilant.”

Her body stiffened so fast it brought on an instant tension headache. The fear and anger at the people trying to infiltrate her life focused like a laser on the closest target in range. “I’m starting to wonder if you are absolutely nothing short of bad news.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means my life was perfectly, absolutely sane until you showed up in it. We’ve been training together for two months, and before then, no one ever tried to attack me or break into my house. You want to talk about threats? You know my routine almost better than I do. You know the trails I run on the days you and I don’t run together. So tell me, Lucas...this morning? Right now? Right place, right time? Or is this some half-cocked effort to—”

His eyes widened, and if it were possible, they’d have shot fire. “You think I have something to do with this?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Casey jogged out the door onto the deck, deflecting some of the tension. “Lost the guy. Got a partial plate.” She planted her hands on her hips, watching the tennis match between Kristin and Lucas. “Want me to call the—”

“No.” Kristin turned away from the man who somehow managed to nudge guilt around the edges of her emotions. They might not be best buds, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the kind of creep she was implying he was. Sure, common sense said she ought to suspect him, but her mind knew better.

It would be impossible to face him with her accusation hanging in the air. She took two steps onto the deck toward Casey. “No cops. They won’t do anything. They can’t.” She kept right on talking, trying to stop the argument she knew Casey was putting together. “My house. My rules. No cops.” She couldn’t get a restraining order against a man whose name she didn’t even know, and it hadn’t helped her mother to have one anyway. Nor could she expect an officer to sit outside her house in case somebody tried to break in again. She was trained. She was strong. She was fearless. It was a trifecta she trusted.

“You’re being foolish, Kris.” Lucas’s voice came from behind her, closer this time.

Her skin chilled at the nickname in his deep voice, too much like the way her father used to say it. “It’s Kristin.” She turned to offer a half apology, to tell him he might not be a stalker but he definitely wasn’t her hero. The words never formed.

He’d edged closer, a few feet away at the bottom of the steps, fully illuminated by the floodlights. Blood ran from the corner of his right eye, and a red spot marred his chin where a bruise would likely form tomorrow. He’d put himself in the line of fire...for her.

She couldn’t yell at him then send him packing after he’d put himself between her and danger twice. Kristin hated herself for being soft. For noting the way his eyes had gold flecks in them, the way he stood like he had all the authority in the world, not with a challenge, but in a way that made her feel protected.

It also made the guilt from accusing him twist even harder. That couldn’t be left out there, pulling tight between them. Kristin blew her bangs out of her face and stared at a spot on the fence over Lucas’s shoulder. “Listen. I’m sorry. What I said earlier... I know you’re not—”

“I know.” Lucas didn’t even let her finish, probably understanding the way the unfamiliar apology stuck in her throat. He knew her too well, was probably nicer than she deserved.

She sliced the air with her hands, helpless to hold on to her anger and the distance she desperately needed to put between herself and Lucas.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she could pull away, call a halt to this building friendship before the feelings grew until they scorched her into ashes. Before she turned into her mother and lost everything to a complete, emotion-fueled fall from grace. “Get inside before you bleed all over your shirt.”

Near the door, Casey cleared her throat. “I’m going to go...” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, flustered by something Kristin couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Inside. Somewhere. And be...inside.” She slipped through the door and disappeared into the house, probably calling the police against Kristin’s wishes.

Kristin sighed and looked down at Lucas, surrendering the fight. “I guess you’re going to tell me I should see the other guy, huh?”

“It’s a wonder he was able to walk away,” Lucas said as he quirked a half smile, avoiding movement on the injured side of his face but lighting the eyes Kristin was trying hard not to notice. “You know, I had him till someone distracted me.”

Kristin rolled her eyes and ignored the flicker of fear threatening to flame up. Regardless of anything else, someone had been in her backyard. But she was fearless, right? She flicked her hand toward the door. “Get in the house. And stop talking before I decide to bruise your other cheek.” She turned and headed for the door, her heart hammering.

Letting Lucas Murphy in might be even more dangerous than any stranger trying to invade her home.

* * *

Lucas followed Kristin into the kitchen, clenching and unclenching his fists. He’d seen the fear flash on her face, understood better than anyone how it could toy with thoughts and make them completely whacked. There had been times when he’d felt that edge himself overseas, maybe even bordered a little on paranoid, particularly after one of their soldiers was killed by a sniper while on guard duty. But being on the receiving end of Kristin’s suspicion had been worse than any blow his opponent had thrown earlier.

It still stung, even after her apology, something that had to be hard for her “no surrender” self. But as soon as she’d shown that small crack, she’d rebuilt the wall, acting once again like she could control the whole world.

She walked ahead of him, not waiting to see if he followed, her posture arrow straight. Her attitude made Lucas want to grab her shoulder and stop her, to turn her around and force a confrontation, to ask if she really had so little trust in him.

Except, really, what right did he have to ask? Whether it hurt or not, in her position he might have fired off some of the same questions. He surveyed the kitchen, searching for something, anything to focus on long enough to stem the chaos roiling in his head.

The control-freak side of Kristin came out in her home. The polished hardwood was spotless. The dark wood cabinets harbored no dust. No photos, no knickknacks, nothing broke the smooth surface of the marble counter. Everything had a place. From what little she’d told him on their morning runs, he knew her childhood had been chaotic, and the early chaos came out in her need for strict order as an adult.

She’d have made an amazing military officer.

He inhaled deeply, centering himself in where he was. The place had a scent of its own. Not like some houses, all cinnamon and spice. More like outdoors and oranges. Probably from the bowl she kept on the table. Every time they worked out together, she’d dig into an orange after, always offering him one before she slipped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table to peel the fruit and savor it like other women savored chocolate.

He’d never been a fan of oranges before, but lately he’d acquired the taste.

Lucas shut the door behind him, wanting to sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table where they’d shared a handful of meals after workouts. The woman might be tough as nails, but she could cook like nobody’s business. Probably because her inner control freak didn’t trust anyone else to touch her food.

Kristin passed the small table in the breakfast nook and pulled one of the black wood chairs out. “Have a seat and we’ll see if we can make you look less like you went a few rounds in the Ultimate Fighting Championship.” Without looking back to make sure he obeyed, she charged through the arched doorway to the dining room.

Lucas could hear her footsteps on the stairs, either to find a first-aid kit or to break the phone he was pretty certain Casey was using to call the police.

Dropping into the chair, Lucas stared at the door. Whoever had come after Kristin at Smith Lake today had likely been watching her, had known which car was hers and had taken the opportunity to steal her keys and her address, probably off her registration. The scum had liked what he’d seen and had decided to come after it in spite of the fact Casey’s Jeep in the driveway proved Kristin wasn’t home alone.

The thought of someone hurting Kristin made him run hot with anger and cold with fear. Even though Travis tried to imply differently, Kristin was a friend, and Lucas would do what he had to do to protect her.

He pressed a finger gingerly to his cheek. Even if he had to do battle with shadowy men in her backyard.

Kristin came into the room and dropped a first-aid kit onto the table, then laid a damp washcloth beside it. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat, tipping her head toward the items in front of him. “You look a mess. The cut by your eye you can probably camouflage a little bit. You’re lucky the guy didn’t leave a worse mark on your chin. Not sure how your chain of command would like you looking like the loser in a fistfight.”

His chain of command was a worry for tomorrow. “Loser? I’m pretty sure I look like the winner.” He grabbed the washcloth and weighed it in his hand, unable to help himself. “Are you sure you don’t want to do this for me? Like in the movies? Help the poor hero who was injured when he managed to—”

“Don’t push it.” She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest, the words harsh but her blue eyes not backing up the sass.

Those eyes. He dropped his to the first-aid kit. It would be way too easy to stare into hers when he knew better. The way she leveled those crystal blues on him dragged a longing into his chest. One he hadn’t felt in a long time... One that made him sit straight in the chair and fight for air. He squeezed the damp cloth until water dripped onto his thigh and seeped through his blue jeans. Get over yourself, Murphy. No sense in dragging her into a lifestyle that would only tear them apart when he left.

He stared at the dark spots the water had left on his thigh, wresting control of his rogue thoughts before he pressed the cloth to the corner of his eye. “Casey called the police?”

“You read people well. She did. But really, what can they do? They’re going to come here, ask some questions. They’ll want to talk to you, I’m sure, but later? They’ll put out an extra patrol and an officer will come by once an hour or something. It’s not enough to put my faith in. They’re too understaffed to do more, and patrols leave too many gaps in the meantime for someone to try again.” Her words were matter-of-fact, but her fingers tightened around her biceps. She might not want to admit it, but the day’s events weighed on her. The strain showed in the straight lines of her posture and the sharp angles of her words.

“The guy has your keys.”

“The locksmith changed my locks today, and I had the fob for the alarm disabled. They won’t do him any good.” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table. “Lucas, really. How did you manage to be here tonight right when you needed to be? And don’t try to tell me you happened to walk by your front window.”

Lucas checked the cloth and reached for the first-aid kit, digging for anything that might stop the sting near his eye. He really didn’t want to explain what he was doing here tonight, but he’d never lied to her before and he wasn’t about to start now. “I was worried. I knew the guy had your keys, so...” Saying I was sitting across the street watching your house sounded a whole lot better in theory than it was ever going to sound in person. In person, it sounded like he’d bounced his marbles halfway to Smoke Bomb Hill on the east side of Fort Bragg.

“So you thought you’d pull guard duty.” She sighed and stared at the closed plantation blinds over the side window, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”

“Don’t I know it.”

She chuckled. “Really. I think I proved this morning I can take care of myself. And Casey’s here.” She aimed a finger at the door, her expression softening. “Go home. I know you have to work in the morning, and you can’t lose sleep watching over me forever.”

Everything she said made logical sense, but he couldn’t make himself agree with her. All he could see was that monster of a man slamming her into a tree this morning. The replay always stopped right before Kristin sent the guy running with his tail between his legs and spun a whole new horrible version of what might have been. “How bad is your back hurting right now?”

Her head drew back like she was dodging a blow. She eyed him for a minute before she took an orange from the bowl and rolled it between her palms. “Not as bad as you’d think. A little sore in the shoulder blade, but not enough to slow me down.” She dropped the orange and rolled it across the table toward him. “Thanks for asking.”

“No problem.” Lucas rolled the orange to her. “And I’m sleeping on your couch tonight.”

They shared an elementary school–style stare-down before she turned away and stretched across the table, dragging the red canvas first-aid kit toward her. “I’ll make a deal with you.” She dug through until she found a butterfly bandage, then slid it toward him. “For your eye.”

“What’s the deal?” He didn’t reach for the bandage. If he finished doctoring himself, she’d kick him out of the house.

“I’ve got an alarm. A loud one. If something goes bump in the night, you won’t be able to sleep through it.” The doorbell echoed through the room, and Kristin pushed away from the table, grimacing. “Final offer, superhero. Take it or I’ll tell the cops you’re part of the problem then send you and Casey both home.”

Lucas hesitated, then reached for the bandage on the table with a nod. Fine. He’d leave.

But she couldn’t keep him from sitting on his own front porch.