He nodded, but his voice was strained when he told her, “Just need… a minute.”
She wouldn’t have been surprised if he walked funny for the next several days. The force Jayla had put behind the blow had been extreme. Yet, to Chloe’s amazement, that promised minute was all Erik needed before he rose to his feet and seemed to shake the injury off.
It looked like Jayla was going to play choreographer for this little dance as she clapped her hands together and said, “Let’s try an arm grab. Go!”
Erik snatched Chloe’s arm, his hand clamping just above her wrist. He didn’t pull; he was giving her time to remember what to do, but Chloe was drawing a blank. She’d seen Jayla do this. She’d covered his hand with her free one, did a sort of loop and cranked his arm behind him, then pushed down. It had seemed easy enough, but when Chloe tried it, she knew it was a weak attempt at best. Erik was letting her overpower him.
“Okay, okay,” Jayla called out, moving closer. “Good try. Speed will come with practice. Let’s do it again.”
So they did. Again, and again, and again, until she had the move down.
Chloe thought they might take a break – she really needed one – but Jayla called out, “Sneak attack, from behind.”
Erik didn’t hesitate, and before Chloe fully knew what was happening, his arms clamped around her, his body pressed close to hers. She was supposed to be doing something to free herself, but instead, as his breath warmed the side of her face, she pushed back against him and closed her eyes.
She heard a low growl in her ear, felt how he hardened, and her body heated with desire.
“Er… okay,” Jayla commented with a little huff of laughter that made Chloe’s cheeks warm with embarrassment at having so totally forgotten herself in the moment.
Jayla sobered. “But Chloe, you need to remember, for this exercise, that’s not Erik behind you. That’s Jackson Savoy.”
The reminder was like a bucket of ice water tossed on the flames.
Chapter Seventeen
Chloe was not cutout to be a soldier. Jayla had managed to find a nearby shooting range for her to practice, but she’d cringed just holding the weapon, and closed her eyes every time she pressed the trigger, no matter how many times both Erik and Jayla reminded her to keep her eyes on the target.
Because of that, they’d decided to arm her with a taser, a can of pepper spray, and a knife instead. Jayla had given her the blade, remarking that while it was a close-contact weapon, so not ideal, it had less of a learning curve, and was easier to conceal. Chloe had to admit, when they’d practiced, she felt a lot more comfortable with it than she had handling a gun.
She got a little better with the self-defense lessons, too, but they only had three days to prepare before Danny’s graveside service, and while she could move through the maneuvers proficiently, like a choreographed dance, she was squeamish about inflicting pain, even though Erik had told her several times not to hold back, that he could take it.
“You’ll feel differently when it’s Savoy,” Jayla had assured her when Chloe voiced her misgivings. And maybe she would. Maybe,when the threat was real, some instinctual part of her would rise to the challenge. But honestly, she hoped she’d never have to find out.
Her stomach churned as she looked herself over in the full-length mirror. Her brown hair was pulled into a simple bun at her nape. The knee-length, three-quarter sleeve black dress with a boat neck was unadorned – even the zipper in back was black – and the severe color washed her out, calling for a full face of makeup, but Chloe hadn’t bothered. Adding a simple string of pearls to her neck with trembling fingers, she stepped into the low-heeled black pumps, grabbed the wide-brimmed black hat, and placed it on her head before leaving the bedroom.
She stepped out into the living room just in time to overhear Jayla saying, “He won’t make a move today. He’ll be watching, I’m sure of that, but he’ll wait until he can get her alone. Ambush her.”
Erik spotted Chloe and stood. “How are you holding up?” He had paired a black sweater with a pair of dark jeans and his black combat boots. It was simple, casual, but the way that sweater fit so perfectly across his strong shoulders… He looked good. Really good, and she wished they were going out for that coffee date, or anywhere other than a funeral.
She crossed her arms over her midsection, hoping to calm the riot of nerves playing havoc with her stomach. “I’m okay. Nervous, but okay.”
“We’ll be close by the entire time. You won’t be alone.”
She knew that. They’d gone over the plan last night. Both Erik and Jayla would be keeping watch, and if her singing drew Jackson closer like they hoped, they’d deal with him – discreetly, of course. No one was looking to cause a scene at Danny’s service.
Jayla stood. With her dark hair in a sleek chignon and a black, silky-looking blouse tucked into belted black slacks, she was a bit dressier than Erik, but Chloe noted the sensible, flat black shoes she was wearing with the outfit. If speed and maneuverability were required, she wouldn’t be hindered by heels.
They were both armed, their guns holstered at the small of their backs, and they threw jackets on to conceal them, with Jayla donning a leather jacket, while Erik pulled on a black wool peacoat.
“You’ve got this,” Jayla said as she handed Chloe the black clutch that contained her sheathed knife, as well as the taser and can of pepper spray. “By the numbers. Just like we talked about.”
Chloe nodded and took a few deep breaths. She could do this. Grabbing her dark sunglasses, she put them on. “I’m ready.”
Erik had known that Daniel Drayton came from a large family, but he’d underestimated the number of extended family, friends, past lovers, and colleagues the man had, all of them come to pay their respects. Black suits, hats, dark sunglasses, it made picking Savoy out of the crowd by his appearance more difficult, if hewas here. Erik had memorized his scent that he’d left behind in Chloe’s dressing room – he should have been able to recognize Savoy regardless of any disguise he might have worn – but the weather was acting against him. It was sunny and unseasonably hot, with little to no breeze, and with so many people, the amalgam of scents was overwhelming. Colognes and perfumes, laundry soap, dry cleaning solution, moth balls, and tobacco, competed with the scents of sweat and body odor.
Erik was sweating too, even in this shady spot toward the back of the cemetery where the Drayton family plots were located. He would have liked to have shed his jacket, but he didn’t want to risk it. His face had already drawn too much attention. Too many stares, with the facial expressions ranging from sympathetic bewilderment to curled-lip disgust. The last thing he needed to do was cause a panic if people saw the monster was armed.
The cemetery was also busier than he or Jayla had thought it would be. With it being Saturday, there were many people visiting loved ones' graves throughout the grounds. Nearby, there was a gray-haired, bearded gentleman with a slightly stooped back holding flowers over a gravestone topped with a cherub. Just beyond him was a woman with a baby stroller who held the hand of a little girl who was pulling at her mother, trying to get her to move, and by the look on the little girl’s face, she was about two seconds away from a full-blown tantrum.
