I’m pretty sure my voice belies my words, though, because Dax reaches for his cane. “I’ll walk you to your door. If you want me to stay until Vasquez shows up, I will.”
Throwing open the door, I ease myself down. “Get out on this side,” I say. “Otherwise you’re—”
“Exiting into traffic? I know. Only been blind six years, Evianna. I remember how cars work.”
As he slides across the seat, I huff out a breath. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, you know.”
“I’d hate to hear you when you are, then,” he mutters.
“You know what? Screw it. Stay in the car, Dax. It’s all of a hundred feet to my door, and I have the best security system in the world. Thank you for the ride. If you’re going to pick me up for work in the morning, I have to be at the office by seven-thirty.”
I slam the door in his face, then stride purposefully towards my home. With every step, I realize how much I depend on my eyes. Avoiding the pile of dog shit next to the curb, stepping over the single cobblestone that’s an inch and a half taller than all the others, knowing how close I am to my door and when to reach for my keys.
Even with this new knowledge, I’m still royally pissed off at Dax. I was trying to be nice. It’s not my fault I don’t know anything about being blind. The touching thing…that he’s got me on. I see how stupid that was now. But warning him about the traffic? What the hell?
Closing my door, I breathe a sigh of relief. “Alfie, I’m home.”
Those words are supposed to turn on the downstairs lights, and the unit should greet me by name, but everything stays dark. “Alfie. I’m home,” I repeat as I turn the corner towards my home office.
Something slams into my back, the stale scent of cigarettes assaulting my nose, and before I can scream, a hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my air. He’s on top of me, his bulk pressing me face down into the thick area rug covering my office floor. Something sharp digs into my cheek, and I buck and thrash, trying to dislodge him.
“Where is it?” my attacker hisses in my ear. “Give me the drive, and I won’t have to kill you.”
9
Dax
I sink back against the seat. What the fuck is wrong with me? Evianna wasn’t trying to be insensitive. And I snapped at her.
“Dammit. I have to apologize. How far is it to her door?”
“We’re six houses away. You want me to walk you there?” the driver asks.
“Yes.” I unfold my cane as the driver comes around to take my arm, and he guides me down the quiet block. More magnolia blossoms, followed by the scent of roses.
“We’re here,” he says. “Three short steps to the landing.”
As I’m about to knock, several thuds sound from inside. And…is that a muffled cry? Another sound, this one closer to a scream, sends my heart shooting into my throat, and I grab the driver’s arm. “Go back to the car. If you don’t see me come out this door in sixty seconds, call 911 and report a break-in with assault in progress at this address.”
“Seriously?”
“Go!”
The driver’s shoes slap against the pavement as he double-times it back to the car. Something big crashes in the front room. Wrapping my fingers around the knob, I burst through the door. “Evianna?”
A man’s curse and Evianna’s choked cry answer me. Fuck. I don’t know what her house looks like, but someone’s hurting her. Ahead and to the right, glass shatters, and I make my way down what feels like a short, narrow hallway.
The tip of my cane finds an archway, but before I can turn, someone rips the metal out of my hand, and I duck, hitting the ground with my knees and tackling a large, tank of a man, twisting at the last minute to send him to the ground. The scent of too many cigarettes burns my nose, and a not-so-solid gut breaks my fall.
“Dax! Go left!” Evianna wheezes, and I roll off the guy seconds before the cane slams against thick carpet. Scrambling to my feet, I squint, desperate for some hint of where he is. A shadow. A harsh breath.
The punch catches me in the shoulder, sending me stumbling back, but I pivot on my right foot and launch an uppercut into a stubbly jaw. A deep, male “Oof” is followed by another curse, and now I know where this asshole is. My jab-cross combo leaves my fingers sticky with blood, and the guy throws something heavy at me, a book or a box of some sort that glances off my shoulder as I bob and weave.
“You want to keep the rest of your teeth? Turn around and put your hands up.” I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. The guy tried to attack me with my own cane. If he’s not a fucking idiot, he knows I’m blind.
Evianna whimpers behind me, and the sound distracts me just long enough for Mr. Stale Cigarette Smoke to ram my gut with his shoulder. I go down as he drives the air from my lungs, and crash into a warm, soft body that smells like freesia.
Heavy footsteps thud down the hall, and a door slams. Then…nothing but Evianna’s raspy, shuddering breaths as she trembles under me. Sliding off of her, I reach out and find her shoulder, then brush her hair away from her face. “Evianna? Are you injured, darlin’?”
