No Turning Back (2 page)

When I first moved here six months ago, she'd offered to hook me up. I'd tried to conceal my shock (my small town upbringing had never been more apparent) and politely declined. I couldn't imagine that kind of lifestyle, no matter how much money was involved. It seemed to work for Sheila though. She was several inches taller than me and had long, straight brown hair. Being pretty and well-spoken, she could pull off a sophisticated look very well.

"Hey, Kathleen," she said. "Off to work?" I nodded. I was running late, but paused for a moment.

"Another day and all that," I said. "You doing all right?" I worried about her. I couldn't accept that her occupation was safe no matter what she said about the clientele being upper-class.

"Oh yeah," she said, smiling tiredly. "I've got a customer now who's real into me. He's been a repeat five times now."

From what she had told me before, I knew that was good since repeat customers for her were money in the bank. "That's great," I said. I would have asked who he was but she'd mentioned once before that her clients demanded confidentiality. "Is he nice?" I asked instead.

"He's all right, I guess," she said, leaning back against the stair railing as she talked. "Not sure what he does for a living but I think he's loaded." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "I just hope Mark doesn't get all weird about it." Mark was her boyfriend. It was a relationship I couldn't really figure out, but it seemed to work for them. Mark was a pretty decent guy and didn't say very much about Sheila's profession. I'd met him a few times and they seemed very into each other. He was one of those quiet, geeky types that I never would have guessed Sheila would go for. I suppose the old saying of "opposites attract" really was true.

"I thought he didn't mind...you know," I said, waving my hand vaguely. I wasn't really sure how to put into words "didn't mind you having sex with random men for money" without offending her. She was very adamant about being a "high-priced call girl” and not a hooker.

"He didn't but he's been acting weird lately," she said, chewing on her lower lip.

"Weird how?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Just, distracted maybe? Like he's with me but not all there. I don't know if it's me or us or something else." Sighing, she added, "I'm probably just being paranoid."

"He really cares about you," I reassured her. "Maybe he's just preoccupied with work or something."

"Yeah," she said, not seeming convinced. "I guess so." She seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "Hey, I'm making you late aren't I?"

I glanced at my watch and grimaced. "Sorry, you're right, I'd better go. Dragon Diane will be watching to see if I'm on time, I'm sure."

Sheila laughed. She knew I disliked Diane and that the feeling was mutual. "Well get going then, Kathleen," Sheila said, giving me a squeeze on the arm and smiling ruefully. "I'll catch you later. Thanks for listening."

"You bet," I said, giving her a quick hug before hurrying to my car. I drove a ten year old blue Honda Accord that ran like a top, thank God. I couldn't afford a car payment. I felt slightly envious of how much money Sheila made, she'd told me once, but knew I couldn't live that life. I made a mental note to stop by tonight when I got off work and see how she was doing.

Traffic wasn't bad and I made it to the firm in just over half an hour. I lived close to downtown Indianapolis but the firm was in the much nicer northern part of Indy, full of brick office buildings, trees and wide expanses of green lawns.

Pulling into the parking lot, I noticed who else but Blane Kirk leaving the building. Crap. I was already late, but waited in my car anyway so he wouldn't see me. I carefully sipped my hot coffee and watched him in my rearview mirror as he walked across the lot. He was dressed for court today, wearing a dark suit and tie and carrying an expensive leather briefcase.

I wondered if I'd ever be able to look him in the eye again. The Incident (as I’d taken to calling it) still made my cheeks burn with mortification whenever I thought about it. Not that there was much cause for me to interact with Blane anyway – him being a partner and me just the runner. He’d never tried to find me again after that one disastrous morning, though I still wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t hid under my desk.

“Fired me, most likely,” I muttered to myself.

Rumor had it Blane had ambitions for political office and it was obvious that he was a natural. Blane was charismatic and charming. When he walked into a room, people noticed, their eyes drawn to him, the very air around him seeming to crackle with electricity. His face never gave away his thoughts, even when he’d flash his killer smile, the kind that sprang from nowhere and turned any female within sight into quivering mush. It seemed I was the only one who noticed it never touched his eyes.

Blane finally disappeared around the corner of the building to where the partners' parking spots were reserved. I gave it just another minute or two to make sure he'd gone before I got out of my car and headed inside.

I heaved an inward sigh as I stopped by Diane's desk for any morning deliveries. This was the part of the day I hated the most. Diane took her job as office manager very seriously, had absolutely zero sense of humor, and was a singularly unattractive woman. Her harsh demeanor only emphasized her sourpuss face, which she never wore a stitch of makeup on. We maintained a stiffly polite relationship.

This morning Diane wasn't at her desk when I stopped by and for that I was grateful. The stack of deliveries was waiting for me on the corner of her desk so I grabbed them and headed for the sixth floor. I also had to stop by the three partners' offices to see if their secretaries had anything for me.

The fifth floor was occupied by Blane and Derrick Trent, another partner in the firm, and their secretaries. The sixth and top floor was where the oldest partner and founder of the firm, William Gage, had his office.

When I got to the fifth floor, I stopped to see Clarice. Blane's door was closed and the lights were out, which meant he was probably in court. He had a corner office with windows on two walls and it was gorgeously furnished in rich mahogany. Clarice's desk was a smaller version of his, positioned outside his office with the luxury of a large work area.

"Hey, Clarice," I said, and she looked up from her computer, smiling when she saw who it was. Clarice was only thirty but dressed much older than that, I guess because it suited her profession as a legal secretary. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun and she always wore sensible shoes. When she smiled, it softened her whole face and made her appear younger and more carefree.

"Hey, yourself," she said. "On your way out?" I nodded.

"I have a stack for the courthouse and some other firms around town today."

Glancing around to make sure we were alone, she leaned forward, grinning as she spoke in a low voice. "Do you want to hear the latest?"

I moved closer. "Of course," I said eagerly.

Clarice and I had a running joke about the women Blane dated, betting each other on how long each would last and if the latest one would make a scene or go quietly when he ended it. There had been some memorable scenes from the more dramatic ones. Clarice liked Blane well enough, he was always polite and cordial to her. He just wasn't really "our" kind of people here in the Midwest - a little too snobbish, way too rich, and a tad condescending.

Clarice had told me yesterday that Blane had asked her to send the requisite farewell flowers to his latest flavor of the month. Some took the news well and some...didn't. This latest girl, her name was Kandi-with-an-i, had seemed the dramatic type and I'd bet Clarice five bucks she wouldn't go quietly.

"Okay," Clarice started, as anxious to impart the juicy gossip as I was to hear it. "So the story is she got the flowers yesterday and went nuts. Showed up at his house and waited for him to get home. Then she proceeded to scream and curse at him while standing on his front porch. And," now her grin widened, "that wasn't even the best part."

I was practically holding my breath in anticipation. "What was the best part?"

"She posted on her Facebook page that he has a tiny dick."

I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth.

"I know!" Clarice said with a mischievous grin. "As if anyone's going to believe her."

"No kidding," I breathed. Our eyes met and we both laughed. Blane's appeal was a universal constant. He was over six feet of male perfection. The idea that he'd not be...well endowed...was ludicrous. I remembered what I’d thought when I’d been in close proximity to his sizeable shoes while hiding under my desk and felt my face flush.

"How did you hear about it?" I asked, pushing aside things I had no business thinking about Blane Kirk.

"Debbie downstairs heard it from her husband who works with Ryan Dunstan who's dating Gillian Tate who's Facebook friends with Kandi," Clarice explained. "It's a small world, my friend."

"She's either really stupid or really vindictive," I said.

Clarice chuckled. "Knowing the kind of women Blane dates, probably both."

"Where is he today?" I asked.

"In court," she answered. "An embezzlement case."

"All right well, gotta go. Thanks for the gossip. Catch you later, Clarice."

Clarice gave me a finger wave and I headed to the elevator and back out to my car. It was warming up now and I rolled the window down, letting in the autumn breeze as I drove. I dropped off the packages for the law firms first before I headed to the courthouse.

I managed to find a spot on the street to park, miracle of miracles, and hustled inside.

"Kathleen! How's it going on this fine day?" This was from Hank, one of the security guards at the courthouse. Hank was a tall, imposing black man with a teddy bear disposition. Why he became a security guard was beyond me. He was no more likely to tackle a bad guy than he would be to drop kick puppies.

"It's going good, Hank," I said, stepping through the metal detector. "You?"

"Better now that you're here," he said with a grin. Hank was also an incorrigible flirt.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I teased. It was almost impossible not to be in a good mood around Hank. He was always so cheerful.

"Just the pretty ones," he retorted and I laughed. Grabbing my purse and my stack of files off the table where it had been searched, I headed down the hall.

The hallway was quiet and my steps echoed slightly as I walked. I was passing the various courtroom doors when suddenly one flew open, startling me. A man rushed out, furtively looking both ways in the nearly empty hallway before spotting me standing only feet away. He was wearing a suit but looked very bedraggled, like he'd slept in it or something, it was so wrinkled.

His eyes lit on me and he rushed toward me so fast I didn't have time to react. In a moment he'd pulled my arm behind my back, my files dropping to the floor in a messy heap. I gasped in pain and shock as he pulled upward on my arm. Then he abruptly released my arm only to put a knife at my throat.

At that moment, the courtroom door burst open again and a crowd of people came rushing out. They froze when they saw the tableau before them. I heard someone scream down the hallway. The man behind me pulled me closer to him and my hands came up to his arm, trying to hold the knife away from my throat. He was several inches taller than me and stronger, dragging me with him as he backed up to the wall.

Security guards rushed around the corner, guns drawn.

"Stay back!" the man holding me yelled. "Everybody stay back! Or I'll kill her!"

Adrenaline and fear were pumping through my system and I could feel my heart pounding. The cold edge of the knife was pressed against my throat as he held me in a vice-like grip. The security guards glanced at each other, clearly uncertain what to do. Behind them the crowd stood silently watching.

"I want to get out of here," the man yelled, desperation evident in his voice. "I'm not going to jail! Let me out of here or she dies!" As if to emphasize his point, he pressed the knife harder against me and I felt the blade nick me slightly.

The pain from the wound served to clarify my jumbled thoughts. My father had taught me many things before he died, and being a victim had not been one of them. I took a deep breath.

In a sudden, sharp movement, I grabbed the arm holding the knife with both my hands as I thrust my head backward away from the knife. Yanking down on his arm with all my strength, I twisted my body, moving under his arm and away from him. My new leverage shoved the knife back toward him and a split second later, he collapsed, the knife embedded in his side.

I took a few steps before I started shaking and slowly slid to the floor, my legs no longer able to hold me. Shouting and movement were all around me now as the security guards surrounded the man and paramedics were called. I was having trouble breathing and spots danced in front of my eyes. While I'd known how to get away from such an attack in theory, until today I'd never needed to use that training. The reality of what had just happened was starting to seep in and I felt tears welling in my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath.

"Put your head between your knees."

I heard the words but couldn't respond. The dots got bigger and my breathing shallower and more rapid. I felt someone pressing on my head, pushing it down insistently. When my head was between my knees, they stopped pushing but held me there. After a few moments, my breathing calmed and the spots disappeared. I tried to sit up and the hand moved away. Glancing upward, I saw a man standing there looking at me, a concerned expression on his face.

I nearly stopped breathing again. I didn't know if I should swoon or cower in fear. Towering over me stood a black-clad male with dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. His brows were also dark and arched sharply, giving his face a slightly malevolent or mischievous look, it was hard to say which. A chiseled jaw and lips that would have made an artist weep completed the picture. I realized my mouth was hanging open and I wondered if I needed to put my head between my knees again.