“Don’t move.”
“What do you want?” My question was a hiss, not a good idea but I couldn’t help it.
“Give me your keys. Hurry.”
The man’s deep voice was just behind my ear. The sound was flustered. Whatever he was in the middle of wasn’t about me. He yanked on my arm, pulling me further away from the overhead streetlight. As if he was being followed.
“Keys. Now!” His voice was more insistent.
A set of determined footsteps racing toward us caught both my attention and the perpetrator, the gun suddenly pulling free from my skin. That’s when I did exactly as I’d been trained to do in self-defense classes.
I stomped on the man’s foot first, elbowing his stomach and managing to break free. Unable to stop myself, I turned around and issued two brutal punches to his face.
He went down with a hard thud, the gun knocked from his hand.
This wasn’t about trying to be a hero but getting to safety. I rushed forward but heard a sound that caught my full attention. A huge man jumped in front of me, blocking my view of the gunman.
“You should know better than to attack a woman.”
I froze from the sound of the second man’s husky voice, the darkness within offering a promise of pure sin.
But in this case, violence as well.
The sound of savage thuds permeated the night air and I jerked backward, spinning to see who’d come to my rescue, but the savior’s quick actions and the shadows prevented me from seeing his face.
It was all over in less than a minute, a quiet, eerie calm settling over the area even as music played in the background. There were no crowds gathered, no one paying any attention.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed two other men loitering in the shadows. As soon as the fight was done, they moved closer.
“Get him out of here,” the man who’d protected me was snarling. He reached down, scooping up the attacker’s weapon.
“What do you want me to do with him, boss?” one of the others asked.
All three were dressed as if they were going out for the evening, their slick suits a representation of money I didn’t have. Their attire was likely hand crafted in Italy. The other two were blocking my savior, but something was already nagging the back of my mind.
He took a deep breath, rising to his full height. Taller than the other two, I was easily able to see the side of his face under the streetlight.
The man I’d literally run into a few days before.
“Put him on ice. I’ll deal with him later.”
On ice. I wasn’t naïve enough not to know the expression. Whoever he was had no intention of calling the police. I wasn’t certain if I should demand that happen.
Without asking any additional questions, his two companions grabbed the assailant under the arms, dragging him down the sidewalk until they disappeared out of sight.
“Thank you,” I said, uncertain what if anything I should say at this point. “I think whoever he was learned his lesson.”
“I should hope so. But I’m going to ensure that he does.”
His voice was entirely different than I remembered. Smooth, velvety, completely masculine, and full of the very darkness exposed by his actions. “We should call the police.”
When he turned to face me, I was even more taken aback than I’d been on the bright sunny day. He was gorgeous in every sense of the word, his dark suit and shirt accentuating his powerful build and broad shoulders.
“Unfortunately, sweet angel, I’ve learned the police are not always particularly helpful in removing the kind of scum who prey on women.”
There was an edge to his voice and his words that sent a shiver down my spine. “That’s not always true. They do their best.”
My words seemed ridiculous. How often had I complained about what police officers and detectives didn’t do correctly? Often resulting in perfectly good cases being tossed out on a technicality.
