As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2) (22 page)

BOOK: As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2)
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“What’s going on with the two of you?’ Sydney asked the next evening.
 

She’d returned from a trip in the afternoon, and we’d met for dinner at the Greek restaurant and then gone shopping at the lingerie outlet to replace my underwear and bras that had been destroyed.

“What do you mean?” Julia asked, unable to stifle her grin.

I grabbed a bra off the rack. “I’m going to try this on.”

“I don’t think your boobs have grown any since the last time you bought lingerie, honey,” Sydney said.

I laughed and pulled the curtain closed. “You’re the one who keeps hoping for bigger breasts.”

“Just a couple more cup sizes, that’s all I ask for.”

I snorted as I shrugged out of my blouse.

“I’d give you some of mine,” Julia said, “but Daniel really liked them.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sydney said. “What?”

I poked my head around the curtain and found the two of them leaning against the wall outside the dressing room. “I take it he liked the dress,” I said.

“The meatloaf may have had something to do with it. It was pretty amazing,” she said. “And he bought me a new spatula.”

I laughed and Sydney said, “You have to tell me more!”

While Julia told us about her date, I ducked back into the changing room and traded out my bra for the one I’d picked off the rack—lilac with lace around the cups and a tiny blue bow between them. It fit perfectly.
 

“When’s your next date?” I asked, slipping my own bra back on and pulling my blouse over my head.

“Tomorrow night. You know that winter festival in town? We’re going with Timothy.”

“How do you feel about dating a man with a teenager?” Sydney glanced at me as I came out of the dressing room. “Fit?”
 

I nodded.

Julia shrugged. “It’s not something I’ve ever considered before, but I don’t feel like it’s a deterrent. Actually, I’d really like to get to know Timothy.”

“He’s a great kid,” I said.

“What about you?” Sydney asked, perusing through a selection and handing me a panty and bra set in teal. “These will look great with your skin tone.”

“Thanks.” I added the set to the growing collection in my basket. “What about me?”

“Are you sleeping with Clay?”

Julia nudged her with her elbow. “Subtle.”

“No, I’m not. I’m not opposed to the idea, but I don’t want to rush into anything either. You should come over one night and have dinner, Syd. You’d like him.”

“Perhaps,” she said, voice noncommittal.
 

Julia handed me a black bustier. “You should probably add this to the pile.”

I choked on a laugh. “Put that away.”

She batted away my hands and stuffed it in the basket. “You know what I say about men and black underwear.”

I glanced around, and Sydney whispered, “Shh! Don’t repeat it. Someone might hear you, and we’ll be kicked out of the store.”

Julia threw her head back and laughed. Several people turned in our direction, and I clapped a hand over her mouth. She licked my palm, and I jerked it away, wiping the dampness on her sleeve. “You’re disgusting.”

She grinned. “I know, but you love me.”

I rolled my eyes then slipped an arm around both of their waists. “I love you both.”

“I know,” Julia said.

“We’re the best,” Sydney added. “And we won’t let you forget it.”

 
 

We’d driven separately, so we said goodbye as we left the outlet mall, and it was dark when I pulled into my apartment complex’s parking lot. The spots close to the building were all full, so I parked in the row adjacent to the street.
 

As he’d requested, I called Clay as I turned off the car. He’d stayed at my apartment to catch up on some work, and because he hadn’t wanted to impinge on girl time.
 

When he answered, I said, “Honey, I’m home!”

He chuckled. “Stay in your car. I’ll be right out.”

I rolled my eyes and slid out of my car, retrieved the bag filled with my purchases, and bumped the door closed with my hip. “You’re being overprotective. I’m right across the parking lot. You can open the door for me.”

“Finch.”

“Clay.” I echoed the growled warning in his tone.

My front door opened as I locked the car doors, so I hit the end call button and pocketed my phone.
 

Headlights clicked on at the end of the parking lot as I rounded the rear of my car. I lifted a hand, blinded by the brightness. The sound of the revving engine didn’t register until the headlights started rushing toward me.

It was as if I stood in a darkened tunnel, where sight and sound were slow to reach me, and the soughing of my own breath whistled in my ears. Then I blinked, and the headlights and dark shadow of the vehicle were bearing down on me.
 

Clay was yelling.

I staggered back but was too slow. I felt the heat first and smelled the acrid exhaust so sharply I could taste it in the back of my throat.
 

The front bumper clipped my hip, and I was knocked against my car. My knee wrenched, and I fell, slamming into the pavement, my shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.

With a squeal of tires, the vehicle disappeared into the night.

Clay’s face appeared above mine. He was shouting into his phone, but the ringing in my ears drowned out his words.
 

As the cacophony in my head dulled, I sucked in a careful breath. The asphalt was cold, and I’d been knocked into a dirty puddle of melted snow. My knee, hip, and shoulder throbbed. I licked my lips. “Clay.” My voice was hoarse.

He hung up the phone and cupped my face in his hands. “I’m right here. Help is on the way.” His hands shook.

“I’m okay.” From the corner of my eye, I could see that my bag of new panties and bras had fallen under the rear left tire well of my car.
 

I tried to sit up, but Clay held me in place. “Just lie still.”

“They had to have seen me. I was right there.”

“They saw you.” Clay’s voice was grim, and the harshness of his face frightened me.
 

I groped for his hand, and he caught it, bringing it to his chest. His heart raced under my palm, and I curled my fingers into his sweater.

“I think I should put down rent on a bed in the ER.”

I said it lightly to ease the look in his eyes, but the bleakness remained as he rode with me to the hospital in the ambulance. It was still there after the X-rays showed no breaks, and the doctor informed me I was merely bruised and my knee was sprained.

“I could keep you for observation overnight, but—”

“No. I want to go home.”

The doctor nodded. “An officer is here to take your statement.”

It was Bernadette Walker, the same woman who’d visited me in the hospital after the break-in. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Miss Rhodes, we can’t keep meeting like this.”

“You should just call me Finch at this point,” I said tiredly before telling her the events of the night.

“Did you get a good look at the vehicle?”

Clay spoke for the first time since arriving. “SUV, black or blue, Ohio license plates. I should have gotten the plate number and make and model.”

“It was dark,” I murmured. “And it happened so fast.”

Bernadette touched my hand. “We’re doing everything we can to find out who’s targeting you.”

She drove us back to my apartment after I was given a brace for my knee and a shot of muscle relaxant.

Clay carried me inside, but when he headed straight to my bed, I protested. “I need a shower.”

“You can barely hold your head up.”

“Please.”

He set me on my feet on the bathroom rug and turned the water on full blast. After a moment’s hesitation, he brushed my fingers aside from where they fumbled with the buttons of my coat. He removed everything down to panties and bra, sucking in a breath as my skin was bared. His curse was low and vile, and it startled me from my stupor.
 

I blinked at my reflection in the mirror.
 

My skin was a patchwork of scrapes and contusions. A bruise bloomed across my left shoulder, but the worst was my right hip. My skin from waist to mid thigh was a vicious red that was beginning to deepen to purple where the vehicle had struck me.
 

I ran a hand over the angry mark and flinched at even that light pressure.

Clay’s fingers hovered over my skin but didn’t touch.

“It’s fine,” I whispered. “It will fade.”

He swallowed. “Can you handle it from here?” When I nodded, he adjusted the water temperature and said, “I’ll wait just outside,” before stepping out of the bathroom and turning his back to the doorway.

My left arm felt weighted and numb, and it took me several tries to loosen the hooks of my bra. I let it and my underwear drop to the floor and stepped into the shower, trying to keep most of my weight off my knee.
 

I stood with my head bowed, letting the water sluice over me, too trampled to summon even a single tear.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until Clay’s shadow darkened the curtain. “Are you okay?” When I didn’t reply, he drew back the curtain partway. “Ah, Finch.” There was a rustle of clothes, and then he stepped into the shower clad only in his boxers.
 

I didn’t have the energy to cover myself. I just leaned my forehead against the hard plane of his chest while he soaped what he could reach of me and massaged shampoo and conditioner into my hair.

Once the soap had been rinsed away, he turned the water off and lifted me out of the shower. He grabbed a towel from the shelf and wrapped it around me before closing the toilet lid and easing me down onto it. He dried himself with quick, brusque swipes and then used his towel to squeeze the excess water from my hair.

He left the bathroom and returned a few minutes later clad in drawstring flannel pants and carrying one of my T-shirts and a pair of leggings. He knelt before me and placed the clothes on my lap. “Do you need help dressing?” He brushed my hair back from my face.

“No, I can manage.” My voice sounded dull to my own ears.

His knees creaked as he stood, and when he stepped out this time he closed the door behind him.
 

I dressed sitting down and left the damp towels on the floor where they fell. After brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth, I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. She looked battered and worn. And afraid.

When I opened the door, Clay was standing on the other side. He lifted me in his arms and carried me the short distance to my bed.
 

As he lowered me to the mattress, I caught hold of his forearm. “Please don’t sleep on the couch tonight.”

“I didn’t intend to.” He arranged two pillows under my swollen knee and then took his turn in the bathroom. He left the bathroom light on as he exited, but closed the door until only a thin sliver escaped. With his presence, it was enough.
 

He slid under the covers and settled on his side, close to me but not touching. I fumbled in the dark, found his hand, and pulled his arm across my torso.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“Christ, Finch.” His hot breath hit my neck as he exhaled raggedly and gripped my unbruised hip. “I couldn’t get to you in time. I couldn’t reach you.”

A terrible knowledge dawned, and his arms around me were the only things that quieted the howling hollow space being created in my soul. “Clay?”

He pressed his face into my damp hair and inhaled deeply. “What?”

“Someone’s trying to kill me.”

Chapter Twelve

I started awake when the mattress dipped beside me, and I rolled my head against the pillow to find Julia settling herself next to me in the spot Clay had occupied last night. Her bright hair fanned across the neutral toned sheets.

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