Page 33 of Beneath the Dawn

“Listen, Marti. I want you to go to my place immediately and lock the door. I am on my way back.”

She suddenly felt knots in her stomach. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just do it. Now!”

At the tone of his voice, she got up and grabbed her tote bag. Just then, she heard a roaring rumble. Marti glanced up the beach and saw a motorcycle speeding up the lane. Lasco Cove was a private community. Was that why Dante had called to warn her? She quickly took off, running at breakneck speed to Dante’s house when it became clear that the motorcyclist was a threat. Because as soon as he saw her, he sped up, racing toward her as if he intended to run her over.

***

Dante turned into Lasco Cove and saw what was happening. Marti was running, and the motorcycle was right on her heels. Suddenly, she tripped over something and fell onto the sand. Dante’s heart nearly stopped when the motorcycle accelerated. Just as the cyclist was about to hit her, a huge white bird flew down from the sky.

Edgar.

The seagull spread its wings and went straight for the cyclist’s head. Surprised by the attack, the man made a sharp turn in the sand and was thrown from the bike just before it overturned.

The man got to his feet, then pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and aimed it at Edgar, as if he believed that the bird was the bigger threat at that moment. Before he could fire the first shot, Dante was out of his truck and tackling the man to the ground. He wrestled the gun from the man’s hand and tossed it away in the sand.

The man put up a good fight, but he didn’t stand a chance against Dante. Using martial arts, Dante kicked the man’s legs from underneath him, and before the guy fell to his knees, he sent another kick to the man’s shoulder. He heard the satisfying snap, which meant he’d dislocated the guy’s shoulder. Ignoring the man’s loud, painful howl, he let loose a spinning drop kick to the guy’s head, knocking him out cold. The man fell face down into the sand.

Picking up the man’s gun, Dante looked at it. A Glock…with the silencer attached. The bastard probably thought it was his lucky day, finding Marti outside on the beach and not inside her home. Rage filled Dante when he realized the man had intended to kill her. Knowing the kick he had given the man would keep him unconscious for a while, he raced over to Marti.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sweeping her out of the sand and into his arms.

Instead of answering, she placed her face into his neck and nodded. He felt her trembling all over as he headed toward his house. He stopped at the door and placed her on her feet. “Can you walk?”

“Yes. I tripped over a piece of driftwood.”

She was covered in sand. Some was even in her hair. “Take a shower. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Do you want me to call the police, Dante?”

“No. Don’t call anyone. I’ll handle this. But I do want some answers from you, Marti. We’ll talk after your shower.”

“Okay,” she said softly, almost sounding defeated. She was trembling.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Marti. Trust me,” he said, gently stroking her cheek and letting his hands roam over her. He needed to touch her to make sure she was okay. He had come so close to losing her. He’d practically died inside when he saw the motorcyclist turn his bike in Marti’s direction. And it was one damn big Harley.

“I do trust you, Dante. How did you know to warn me about that guy?”

“I had a gut feeling when I passed him on the road and saw him headed toward here.”

“You saved my life again.”

“Edgar played a part, too,” Dante said.

She nodded. “Yes, he sure did.”

He opened the door. “Now go inside and lock the door behind you. I have my key.”

She went inside, and he didn’t move until he heard the lock click in place. He glanced around, reached down, and grabbed the rope he had placed there yesterday.

Dante headed back toward the beach. Edgar was circling around the man who was still sprawled out, face down in the sand, as if daring him to regain consciousness so he could attack him again. Dante decided he’d tie this guy up and put him in the shed. After his conversation with Marti, he would decide what he would do with him.

***

After showering and washing her hair, Marti paced Dante’s living room, waiting for him. She was glad she had left some of her clothes here so she didn’t have to wear one of his t-shirts. Glancing out the window, she couldn’t see anything--not Dante, the motorcyclist, or the bike. Still, she knew he was around somewhere, since his truck was parked outside. Checking her watch, she saw that half an hour had passed. So where was he?

She’d never felt so much fear. Especially when she saw Dante barely stop his truck before jumping out to attack the man. A man who had a gun. As if that had meant nothing to him, Dante lit into him, demonstrating his impressive—and lethal--skills as a fighter. She doubted the motorcyclist had counted on that.