Crossed (3 page)

I guessed now that Emma wasn’t coming back I’d need to drive him there after work. Yet part of me wondered whether the kind of mental health treatment they were trained to provide was what my caveman needed. I shook my head. He was not
my
caveman. It didn’t seem like he’d been physically hurt, either. Whatever had happened had locked him inside, and I was able to break through his shell with a simple scalp massage. I wasn’t an expert, but he didn’t look like someone who was afraid, so whatever trauma he’d witnessed or experienced must have affected him to the core.

A loud bang and the sound of breaking glass shook through me as someone yelled, “Everybody put your hands up!”

“What the hell is this?” I said to myself as the cries and screams of my staff and clients tore through my salon and I realized we were being robbed.

Shit!

I sneaked behind the wall by Frankie’s last station and hurried to the back on all fours. Chelsea stood frozen in place. “Gimme your cell,” I whispered, pulling her down under a table set with fresh towels. “Stay there.”

At the front of the salon glass broke and equipment crashed to the ground. They were making their way toward the back.

Pure adrenaline rushed through my veins. The sounds of falling furniture, threats, and soft cries grabbed me by my neck, momentarily choking me. I couldn’t give up now. I had to do something. Dialing 911, I spoke into the phone without waiting for the official “911—what is your emergency?”

“We’re being robbed. They have guns. I’m on 365 Fifth Avenue. Please hur—” The feel of a cold metal tip at my head froze me in my spot.

“Put the fucking phone down.” The deep voice rose goose bumps at the back of my neck.

I slowly raised my arms, dropping the phone. It crashed to the floor, breaking apart.

“Where’s the safe?” the man behind me asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stupid me. They obviously knew about my stack of cash. Why wouldn’t I cooperate? Why wouldn’t I give them what they wanted? Because I’d once before promised myself that I would never be a victim again. Memories of that dreadful day floated back and I forced all the courage I’d gathered over the past twelve months to the forefront of my mind.

The man lowered his gun, thrusting it into my rib cage.

“Don’t play fucking stupid with me. We know you’re the owner and hide your cash in the back. Now where’s the safe?”

His voice sounded familiar, but for the life of me I couldn’t place where I knew it from. A ski mask covered his face, yet during the brief moment I got a glimpse of his eyes, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d seen them before.

“My clients pay with credit cards.” Despite the small shake in my voice I sounded pretty brave. I knew I was being stupid. I should have just taken him to my office and given him the money. But that stubborn part of me refused.

“Not all of them.” He jutted the gun right between my ribs, forcing me to move. Without a doubt I’d have a bruise there, that is if I was alive at all. Afraid of startling him, which would cause him to press the trigger, I slowly shuffled my feet toward my office in the back where I kept my safe. While it was true that most of my clients paid by credit or had a specific account, most tipped with cash, which was kept under lock and key. And of course I only emptied my safe once a week because I liked spending it on my staff’s lunches, on celebrations, and to cater to last-minute wishes of celebrities. It had been five days since I’d been to the bank. There had to be a few thousand dollars in there. But how did they know? Who tipped them off?

“Look, I’m not a threat and that gun is hurting my ribs. Can you ease up a bit?”

“There’s no need to be brave, Gracie. Just give me the money and we’ll be on our way out. You’re coming with me, sweetheart.”

It had been so long since I’d heard anyone refer to me as Gracie. And he wanted me to come with him? Okay, now I was convinced that this was an inside job. Whoever had told this dweeb about my stack of bills had to work here. But I wasn’t a quitter, and the energy that was rushing through my veins wouldn’t let me give up so easily. There was no way I’d let him walk out of here with my hard-earned money, and with me, without a fight. I’d been through too much crap in my life to let a stinky burglar, who didn’t have enough balls to rob a bank, pull a fast one on me.

The sound of a police officer over a megaphone came from the front. “Put your hands up and drop your weapons. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Fuck, Grace. This is all your fault. You did this. You called them. I promise you that everyone will blame you for their deaths.”

And that’s when it hit me. This guy was tougher than I thought. Was he seriously willing to kill for a few bucks? Had I underestimated him?

“You can still leave,” I whispered.

“The cops are here.” His stinky breath brushed against my ear and I cringed. More goose bumps surfaced on my arms, and I wished Emma were here. My kick-ass friend would know exactly what to do and could probably take this asshole out. I, on the other hand, only had my mouth and my smarts to fight with.

“There’s an exit at the back.”

Whatever was going on out the front, I knew that the officers were on the move. His buddy robbers must have given up and the police were making their way through the salon now, freeing my staff and clients.

“Show me. We’re leaving together.”

I led him through the empty hallway, noticing a couple of my employees hiding behind a tall dresser. I pleaded with my eyes for them not to move. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt. To avoid media and unwanted attention, we’d often let celebrities in through the back, which was connected to a parking garage.

“Where’s the exit, Grace?” He pushed me harder through the narrowing corridor.

“He’s got her in the back,” someone said as I opened the rear door. As much as I didn’t want him to get away with this, I also valued my own and my employees’ lives. And right now, with the gun at the back of my head, this man had all the power.

“I won’t forget this, Grace. You screwed it up and you’ll pay for it. One way or anoth—”

Someone’s foot connected with the robber’s arm and the gun flew from his hand. Sounds of gunfire echoed from the front as a heavy body pinned me to the ground, and it wasn’t the guy who’d been holding the gun.
He
ran out the back door.

“You’re all right, Grace. Stay still.” While the man’s voice wasn’t familiar at all, the feel of him was, and I didn’t know why. The smell of a fresh shave was intoxicating. I opened my eyes to look at the gorgeous face of a model. In my mind I went through the appointments we’d had scheduled for the day, wondering what the name of this high-profile man was. He held me caged in his arms, tightly against his chest, our hearts pounding against each other. I breathed in his scent and my head spun.

“Are you all right?” he asked. His curly hair draped over his face, tickling my skin. I wanted to reach up to move the beautifully coiled strand to look at his face some more, but my arms were restrained underneath him.

The sound of gunfire eased as police officers rushed toward us.

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

My hero lifted his body off me, robbing me of his delectable heat.

“Ma’am, are you hurt?” an officer asked.

“No,” I shook my head. “The guy... he ran off through that door.”

A couple of cops pointed their guns at the door and went out on a search.

“Is everyone else all right?” I asked.

“They’re fine. They’re all out front. There’s an ambulance waiting. The paramedics can check you out.”

“Thank you. Please, take my client first.”

“Your client?” the gorgeous hunk at my side asked. I couldn’t have been more embarrassed by the situation and made a mental note to establish better security measures at my salon.

“Yes, I’m so sorry this happened to you. We’ll get you free spa treatments and a massage to make up for this.” I looked around my destroyed salon, adding, “As soon as we’re back up and running.”

When will that be?

“There’s no need for that, Grace.”

“Wait, you know me? I didn’t think we were introduced,” I said to the model. Now that the dust had settled around us and I had a better look, the wide shoulders and narrow hips and his dominating height did look familiar.

He grinned, saying, “My name is Hunter. I’m your caveman, Grace.”

C
HAPTER
3

I gasped. “Holy shit.”

Was that even out loud?

“I see I’ve graduated from
it
to
shit
. I guess that’s an improvement.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t recognize you. You look so different. And you’re talking.”

And you’re so fucking unbelievably hot!
I added in my mind, remembering all the little details of his naked body I’d seen earlier. Now this face matched what I’d seen and made him so much more attractive.

“Yeah, I guess I am. You have a cut.” He reached to my forehead, dabbing it with a white towel. “Let’s get the paramedics to have a look at you.”

He led me out the front, where a swarm of people mingled. Some were in cuffs being shoved into the back of police cars, others were simply looking around. My employees rushed to my side as soon as I came out.

“Are you all right?” Frankie asked. “I told the caveman we should leave but he insisted on getting to you. He wouldn’t wait for the police, saying it could be too late, and I was so scared, Grace. Oh my God! I really thought he’d shoot you. The caveman was so strong. I tried to pull him out to safety—you know, someone that good-looking had to be important—but he wouldn’t budge. Those muscles were way too strong for poor little Frankie to drag out to safety.”

“Hunter. His name is Hunter.” As one of the paramedics checked him out, dabbing something to the side of his thick bicep, I couldn’t keep my gaze away from the man who had saved my life.

“Have you called Tristan Cross yet?” I asked.

Tristan was Emma’s older brother. We hired their services at times when we had movie stars and rock stars who drew more media attention. But with so many eyes on us today, I was sure the tabloids would be looking for any kind of gossip no matter what your Hollywood status was. And I wasn’t about to jeopardize my clients’ privacy by throwing them to the paparazzi hounds. I was proud of the reputable discretion at our salon and wanted to keep it that way.

“Yes, their security team will be here in a couple of minutes. The higher-profile celebrities are waiting at Caesar’s.” Frankie pointed to the door guarded by Olivier.

Caesar’s was our next-door restaurant. Olivier was a good friend and I knew he’d keep quiet about who was visiting me today, just as I wouldn’t say anything about who dined at his restaurant.

“They’re all okay?” I asked.

“Yes, they are. Marcie had already let them know we’ll add a free massage and spa treatments once the salon is back up.”

“My salon.” I felt the gash on my forehead bleed at the thought of the damage that had been done. This would definitely take a while to fix. I slouched as a bandage was fixed to my forehead. “Can you please ask Marcie to reschedule all appointments for the next week or so and call Carl to squeeze us in? Offer a discount to anyone who fusses.”

But I knew they wouldn’t. The wonderful thing about my clients was that most of them loved me. They’d wait it out, or if it was an emergency, they would agree to see their regular stylists at my friend’s salon. Carl was amazing but operated in New Jersey, which meant travel time for some. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind.

“How’s the head?”

I hadn’t noticed when Hunter approached. I reached for my forehead, saying, “It hurts a bit. Are you all right?”

“Nothing time can’t heal,” he said. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to seem weird. It’s just that I had a rough couple of weeks.”

“That’s okay. You saved my life. Let’s call it even. I still can’t believe you’re talking.”

And that you’re so smoldering and sexy
.

“Wait, what was wrong with you? Why didn’t you talk and…” I looked at the paramedic, who was pretending not to listen. I didn’t want to give him the details of how Hunter had stripped naked in front of me or our shower together. From the look on Hunter’s face, he must have known what I was thinking.

“I had a bit on my mind. The gunshots triggered memories… It’s complicated… Thank you for helping me out. With everything.”

“I need to drive you to—”

“—the mental institution? I may have scared Allie a bit and she just wanted to help. I’ll be fine.”

“I promised Emma I’d drive you.”

“How about I drive you home and we can talk about what happened today in peace?”

Was I about to agree to this stranger’s request? He was a stranger, wasn’t he? I mean, I’d barely met him a couple of hours ago, I’d seen him naked, I’d had my life saved by him, and now I was considering letting him drive me home, when I was supposed to be the one to drive him to a mental institution. Yet even though I’d only known him for a few hours, it felt like I’d known him for much longer than that.

“All right. It may be a few minutes. The police need to talk to me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Grace. Once you’re ready, we’ll go home.”

I gave my statement to the cops, telling them everything I could remember about the robber. The jerks who helped him with the heist said they were hired on the Internet with details given minutes before they broke in. None of them saw his face or had met him in person. He’d only promised to pay up once the job was done, so it looked like we had a cold trail. The culprit fled through the back garage and it was all my fault. When I thought about what could have happened to me if he’d been successful with his kidnapping, I cringed.

“Give me your car keys, Grace.” Hunter reached his hand out. Boy was it ever a big hand.

“I can drive.”

“You’re in shock. I have experience with these things. Let me drive you home. Emma’s building?”