Intimate Enemies (47 page)

She caught a whimper in her throat before it escaped. Reflexively, she pressed back against Creek as Psycho Prisoner eyed her up and down, too thoroughly, too slowly.

His lips lifted in more of a sneer than a smile. “Would have preferred a purebred, but she’ll do.” He squinted at her throat. “What’d you do to her neck? That’s wicked cool, man.”

Creek took a step and nudged her forward. Alyssa pushed back. He shoved again, harder. A frantic edge cut at her belly. Bile lunged up her chest, burning the back of her throat.

“Look at him.” Psycho tossed a hand toward the back of the holding area, filled with empty gurneys and chairs. Another officer sat in the corner, his hands, feet and mouth bound with compression tape. “Stupid sonofabitch. He was so easy it wasn’t even fun.” He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his sweats. “Got some toys, too.”

“Great.” Creek’s gaze darted toward the hall, the door, then back. “Let’s get out of here.”

Yes!
Alyssa almost yelled the word. Relief and hope broke through the fear. She was almost free. This time, when Creek pushed her, she moved. Five more steps…four…three…

They stopped just inside the doorway. This was it. As soon as these jerks were gone, she’d hit the bathroom, clean herself up, grab some burn gel from the E.R. and call one of the radiologists from their partner clinic across the street to cover for the night. Then, she’d head to the nearest bar and drink this whole nightmare away.

“Get these off of me.” Creek’s voice interrupted Alyssa’s fantasy. He extended his hands in front of her face. “Keys are in her pocket.”

Psycho scanned Alyssa’s shirt, a lewd grin on his face. “My pleasure.”

He pushed his hand into her pocket and grabbed her breast. Disgust twisted Alyssa’s throat closed. She knocked his arm up and away with her own. The knit of keys flew out of his hand and across the room.

The pupil’s of Psycho’s eyes expanded, turning his muddy hazel irises nearly black with rage. Alyssa identified. She’d been attacked by someone she’d been trying to help. She’d been abandoned by someone who should have helped her. Now, she’d been molested by scum living off her tax dollars. Rage? Yeah. She identified.

“Don’t
touch
me, you—“

Creek turned, pulling Alyssa with him and cutting her off. “Stop fucking around Taz.”

Psycho whipped another key from his own front chest pocket, but his cold, cutting eyes stayed on Alyssa. He slipped the key into the cuffs, and with a click, Creek was free.

An instant later, Creek had his big hand around her wrist. The cuffs were so warm she didn’t feel them close. By the time her reflexes kicked in, she was trapped. She stared at the contrast of her fine fingers and slender wrists against the thick metal cuffs. Hands her mother forever insisted were made for dishes and diapers. Hands Alyssa eternally argued were destined for helping and healing.

Surreal. Absurd. Fallacious.

This isn’t happening.

Creek put one hand in the middle of her back, pushed her into the hall and turned her toward the exit door.

This is happening.

Her stomach lifted then dropped then went queasy, like it did when she rode a roller coaster.

Alyssa planted her feet and leaned back. “I’m not going out there.”

He fisted the back of her scrub top and used the bulk of his body to force her through the doorway.

Alyssa twisted, grabbed the metal frame with both hands. “I’m not going.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“No!” Alyssa held on with every last muscle fiber in her fingers. “You got what you wanted. Leave me here.”

Psycho elbowed his way out the door. “There’s the car. I told you it’d be here. Let’s go.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Creek’s tense voice ground in her ear. “Let go of the door before I break your arm.”

“No.” Her feet skidded forward as he pushed harder. Her wrists ached from the bite of the cuffs. Her fingers burned from grasping the metal. “No! I’m not go—”

Psycho’s hand blurred in front of her face a split second before her head snapped sideways. Fire erupted in her cheek, spread through her face. Blood seeped onto her tongue. The stark metallic bitterness added another realistic edge to the nightmare.

Taz gripped her chin and cheeks in one meaty hand and jerked her face toward his. “Shut the fuck up, you goddamned .” He smacked a piece of tape over her mouth. “You fuck this up for us and I’ll gut you.”

Creek yanked her out of Psycho’s reach. “Chill, Taz. The only person who’s going to fuck this up for us is you. Get the car.”

Alyssa let her eyes close. Pain buzzed across her face. Shock numbed her brain. At some point, she’d started to shake, and couldn’t control it. She’d never been hit before. Not by any man she’d ever dated, even in the most heated argument. Not by any one of her four older brothers, even during a tussle. Not even so much as a spanking as a child, even though she’d given her parents plenty of cause. She’d spent the entire twenty-eight years of her life abuse-free. Until now.

She’d also never been taunted with racial slurs, probably because she looked more Caucasian than Asian. The combination of violence and racism shook her solid foundation.

“Don’t fuck with him.” Creek’s hold loosened. “The quieter you are, the less trouble you cause, the better this will go.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His gaze darted to her cheek, then away, scanning the parking lot, as if her suffering meant absolutely nothing to him.

Primal anger sank deep in her gut and overlaid the fear. She’d be quiet all right. And in the silence, she’d watch. And wait. And plan.

About the Author

Joan Swan writes what she loves to read, action-packed, sizzling romantic suspense. Occasionally, she adds a paranormal twist to spice things up. Her work has been nominated for numerous awards, including the prestigious Golden Heart® award by Romance Writers of America and the Daphne Du Maurier award by the mystery and suspense chapter of Romance Writers of America.

Currently, Joan works as a sonographer at a one of the top ten medical facilities in the nation, and lives in magnificent wine country on the central coast of California with her husband and two daughters.

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