Page 32 of Wicked Rush

Chapter Ten

Lars cursed as Braelynn took off down the street in her midnight-blue Prius. He was ten minutes down I-5 on his way to meet a client when he decided there was no way he could leave her by herself. Even though she’d given him partial answers, his instinct told him she was still in danger. She’d carefully avoided telling him where she lived, but Lars already knew her address, one of the few things he’d learned during his investigation. He tapped at his phone, quickly entering her location and got off at the next exit.

Thoughts of his encounter with Braelynn in the pool threaded through his mind. Chemistry had sizzled between them. Her response to his kiss had been explosive, her lips accepting and sweet; she’d come apart at his touch. It had taken every ounce of his discipline to walk away from her. At the time, he’d told her that he wanted the truth, but the irony wasn’t lost on him. He was no angel. He’d fucked many a woman, never asking or caring about their lives. But Braelynn wasn’t just any woman.

As he drove through her affluent neighborhood, he wondered how a scientist could afford to live in one of the recently renovated beachfront properties. He couldn’t imagine Bart-Aqua paid her anywhere near what she would need to live in one of the trendy homes abutting the spectacular cliffs.

Lars pulled his convertible alongside the curb, turned off the engine, and tapped the steering wheel, deliberating his next steps. He caught sight of a black limo rolling from the far end of the street, and slid down into his leather seat, concealing his face with his baseball hat. From his peripheral vision, he watched as Armand Giordano emerged from her home. A second man, who he’d recognized from the gala followed. Why the hell is her boss at her house on a Saturday afternoon?

Lars glanced back to the stretch, watching as Giordano removed his suit jacket that revealed a bright red streak across his shirt. Lars’ heartbeat sped up at the sight, but before he had a chance to call out to the departing limo, the old man disappeared into the car and slammed the door shut. As it screeched down the street, Lars took off running toward her home.

He reached the door within seconds, but logic warned him not to break it down. He pounded on the whitewashed wood, telling himself that he’d give her five seconds to open up, or he’d smash through it. He figured if he was wrong, he’d apologize later. One. Two.

“Get out!” Braelynn screamed.

Lars immediately shoved through the door and ran into the foyer. Guilt stabbed through him as he took in the sight of Braelynn sitting on the floor. With her head resting against the wall, she cradled a black ball of fur, her eyes staring blankly at him. A trickle of blood was smeared down her chin.

“Don’t,” she whispered, shaking her head back and forth.

“Brae.” Lars approached slowly. “What did they do to you?”

“My cat.” Her voice cracked as tears rolled down her face. “He killed him.”

“Jesus Christ. We have to call the police.” Lars reached for his cell phone but went still at the sound of her voice.

“No.” Panic laced her words, her hands trembling as she petted her cat’s fur.

“Okay. Just…” Lars took a deep breath and knelt. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Not only had they hurt her, they’d killed an innocent animal. He struggled to contain his rage, but he forced himself to remain calm. He’d been in life and death situations, but nothing compared to seeing her hurt again. He lowered his voice, careful not to scare her. “Listen sweetheart. I’m a witness. I just saw Giordano leave here. I don’t know if it was him or the thug who was with him, but I have a friend. He can help.”

“No, no, no,” she repeated.

“I promise he won’t hurt you.”

“You don’t understand. I’ll never be safe. I’ll never escape.” She closed her eyes, her head drooping forward.

“You can’t let him get away with this.” Lars began to peck at his phone’s screen.

“No!” Her eyes flew open. “I’ll deny it.”

“Jesus, Brae. Would you please open up and tell me…” Lars blew out a breath, realizing she was traumatized. Without her testimony, it’d be hard to make charges stick. He stuffed the phone in his pocket, and crept toward her.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This isn’t your problem. My fault. My fault,” she repeated.

“Please. Just, here…let me take the cat.” His eyes locked on hers as he reached forward.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise. You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just get…it’s Benny, right?” When she nodded, he placed his hands over hers, giving a stroke to its fur. “Let me take him. I promise I’ll take care of him, okay?”

“You promise?” Fresh tears emerged.

“Promise.” Lars gave her a comforting smile, trying his best to subdue the anger boiling in his gut. Armand Giordano was a dead man.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten you into this.” She closed her eyes, releasing a sob.

“I promise this is going to be all right.” Lars scanned the room and stretched his arm out to snatch a throw blanket off the back of a chair. Unfolding it onto the floor, he focused his attention back on Braelynn. “I’m going to wrap him up now. You ready?”

“Yes,” she cried. Lifting the cat, she kissed its head.

“That’s it, Brae. I’m just going to…” Lars took the animal and carefully placed it onto the fabric. Wrapping it up gently, he folded the material until it was covered.