The suitcases would prevent him from throwing her on the bed. He’d have to either kick them off or shove them out of the way. He couldn’t do either, the way he had her pinned. The lamp was a good weapon but so was the heavy art deco statue on her nightstand—a Greek god. The powerful build of the male figure had been a sad reminder of 466. She’d still purchased the thing, even knowing why she was drawn to it.
“You’re going somewhere?” His anger was clear as he spit out the words. “The camera didn’t show you carrying anything in so you’re taking them out.”
He was watching her place? How? A dozen questions went unanswered. It was deeply disturbing in any case. He held still, panting a little from carrying her dead weight. It was a good thing. It meant he wasn’t in good shape, which increased her chances of hurting him when given the opportunity.
Her gaze darted to the bathroom door. It was hollow-core, all the inner doors were, but it had a lock. Hairspray would be a great weapon and so would the scissors she kept in the top drawer of the vanity. It was gruesome, considering plunging them into a living human being but she was certain she wouldn’t hesitate. Stabbing him in the throat would be her best bet to take him out fast. It was disturbing to discover where her mind went at that moment but she pushed the dismay away. Survival meant everything.
“I knew breaking into the office would bring you back.” He took another step, taking her closer to the bed. “I knew you’d show up here. There’s too much security in the parking lot at the hospital. This is much better for what I have planned.”
His voice had gained a normal tone now that he was secure and had the situation under control. Icy fingers speared her heart when she remembered that voice. Douglas Peed had been her client for four months, a referral from a coworker who had retired. He’d been bullied all his life. It had started with kids making fun of his last name, taunting him to the point that he’d attempted suicide a few times in his early teens. The cruelty from others hadn’t lessened much as an adult.
She’d tried to steer him into releasing the bitterness but he tended to let the anger boil under the surface. They’d been gaining ground though until three weeks ago when his longtime girlfriend had dumped him on the spot after he’d proposed marriage.
Joy had been brokenhearted for him when he’d fallen apart in her office, admitting to her that the woman had refused because there was no way she’d be stuck with his last name. He had been kicked around hard his entire life.
Why is he coming after me?
She’d given him sympathy and understanding but it had been rough on him when his therapist had retired and he’d been reassigned to her. Had missing their appointment while she’d been at Homeland set him off? Had that been the final straw? His next words confirmed her suspicions.
“I’m done being shit on by everyone.”
She hoped she could talk him into being reasonable. He needed to put her down and release the choking hold on her throat. She made a soft noise to indicate she wanted to speak. He tensed against her body but before he could say or do anything in response, a loud pounding started in the other room.
Douglas panicked and dropped her. She was free and slowly turned to face him. She started to speak but the gun he jerked from the back of his pants muted her instantly as she stared at the barrel.
“Joy? I know you’re inside. Open up.”
Moon!
There was no doubt who that deep, growly voice belonged to.
“I’ll kill you,” Douglas swore. “Get rid of whoever that is.” He backed up, keeping the gun trained on her.
She trembled from head to foot as she followed the unstable man into her living room. The source of her fear changed from her own safety to Moon’s. No way would she risk his life.
Moon pounded his fist on Joy’s door again. She was there—he’d found her blue car parked behind the building. The background check had given him the license plate number so there was no mistake. The hood had been cold, indicating that it had been there a while. It was the only vehicle registered in her name so she had to be home.
“Joy?” He hated to raise his voice because she lived very close to other humans but he wasn’t going to allow her to hide. He’d break down the door if he had to. It wasn’t his first choice. Someone might call the police. “I’m not leaving until we speak.”
He listened, breathing through his mouth. The stench of the hallway bothered him. Whoever cleaned the floors had used strong chemicals and it competed with the offensive odor of trash. He turned his head, glaring at the bag of it down the hallway. Didn’t humans take it outside and seal it inside plastic containers? He raised his fist again and gave the door two sharp taps.
“Joy?” He backed up a few feet to evaluate the best place to plant his boot. The door didn’t appear too sturdy. One strong kick should bring it down.
A deadbolt slid and the door eased open a few inches. Joy’s face appeared as she peeked out at him. “What are you doing here, Moon?”
He winced. There was a trace of fear in her voice and her face looked unusually pale. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He stayed still instead of pushing forward to shoulder his way inside her home as he wanted to do. The other problem was that she seemed to be pressed tightly against the door. She might get hurt if he forced it open.
“Why did you leave?” His heart pounded as blood rushed to his ears. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she ordered him to go away. He wouldn’t, not until he talked her into returning to Homeland. It was tough to keep his voice neutral when he wanted to snarl.
“An emergency came up at work.” She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. It’s late and I need to get some sleep.”
Her answer floored him. It wasn’t what he expected but it angered him after he let it settle. “You’ll call me?”
“Yes.” She pushed against the door until her cheek dented along the edge of it. “I love you.”
Three softly spoken words caused him to sway on his feet and forced him to shift his weight to keep upright. She loved him? The door slammed and the lock clicked. He blinked a few times while it sank in. She loved him? He wasn’t sure what to do. How could she tell him that but put a door between them? A variety of jumbled emotions burst forth. He wasn’t the only one with strong feelings. Love meant everything to him but what about her?
It pissed him off that she had blurted it out without warning.
And slammed the door in my face.
He backed up, paused, stepped forward. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to touch her. He needed to know how she loved him. Humans were far too vague. They loved their friends, their cars, and possessions with seeming equality.
He lunged, not giving a damn if it startled her or sent her neighbors into a state of fear. No way would he turn and walk away from her when he wasn’t sure what loving him meant to her. His boot nailed the door inches from the handle. The snap of wood was far louder than he intended but the door flung open.
He expected Joy to jump or perhaps scream when he stormed inside to go after her. The sight of a male facing him across the small room with Joy between them halted his forward movement abruptly. The human’s face was mostly hidden by a floppy hood but the gun pointed directly at her head drew his attention.
Time seemed to stand still while he struggled to make sense of the situation. The arm holding the weapon jerked in his direction. Joy cried out and spun around to face him. Her hair whipped around so fast that the long strands snagged on the metal. She kicked upward and jumped in his direction. His reflexes were slow as her body plowed into his chest. A sharp bang deafened him in the small room.
He’d been off balance when Joy’s full weight tackled him and they were propelled backward. The feel of her was enough to jar him from his shock. His back crashed into the wall next to the door, the only thing that kept them from both hitting the floor. Instinct took over as he glanced to the side before he threw her into the kitchen. He didn’t have time to see if she landed safely behind the row of cabinets that separated it from the living room. All that mattered was that she was out of the line of fire.
He howled in rage and shoved away from the door. The human had shot at them. The male stumbled backward as Moon leapt at him, tripping on the coffee table. The male’s arm flew upward when he lost his balance. Another shot hit the ceiling, sending down white debris.
Moon landed on the human’s legs. The grunt of pain from him barely registered as he tore the weapon away. The male sucked in a sharp breath screamed as if he were a female. It was cut off when Moon threw all his rage behind his fist that plowed it into the pasty face that wasn’t hidden anymore. The human’s eyes rolled back, accompanied by the crunching sound of his jaw breaking from the blow. He didn’t move but he was alive as his chest rose and fell.
Moon snarled, ready to tear out the male’s throat.
“Don’t kill him,” Joy panted. “He’s sick.”
Moon didn’t give a damn. The human was inside Joy’s home and he’d taken a shot at them. Rage surged. Why was the male there in the first place? Was he the reason she’d left Homeland? Was he someone she cared about? Loved? He snarled and his fingers curved into claws as he eyed the exposed throat.
“Moon!” Joy sounded a little closer. “Please don’t kill him. Tie him up.” She tossed something at him that landed on the floor next to where he crouched.
He glanced at the dishtowel. It was black and thick.
“Tear strips and tie him up. I’m calling 9-1-1. Please, Moon? He’s a client of mine. He’s mentally ill.” She took a ragged breath. “He suffered abuse growing up. He is obviously delusional and dangerous now.”
I’d like to snap his neck
, Moon grumbled to himself, battling the urge to kill the bastard. It would upset Joy more. He bent and grabbed the towel. It was easy to bite into an edge and tear it into three long strips. Moon wasn’t gentle when he rolled the human onto his stomach. It gave him satisfaction when he realized, from the odd way it was twisted, that one of the human’s legs was broken near the knee. It would be painful when he regained consciousness and hurt like hell.
The bindings might be too tight but he had no gentleness in him. Not when it came to Joy’s patient. He was tying a second binding a little higher than the first one when something caught his attention. He glanced at his thumb to see blood. He finished the job and examined his hands to see where he’d been cut. He wasn’t cut or wounded. He lifted his thumb to his nose to learn the scent of his enemy.
The stench of the gunpowder had left his senses a little dulled but the scent he picked up now stilled him. He knew it only too well. He turned his head to stare at Joy. She was in the kitchen on the other side of the counter, leaning heavily against it. One hand was holding her upper arm and blood seeped between her fingers.
He’d hurt her. It must have happened when he’d thrown her out of the way. Her arm must have slammed into a counter and cut her skin. Regret was instant as he stared at her. She was pale as she watched him. He glanced at her hand again as he rose to his feet.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “My phone is in the bedroom. Call 9-1-1. My cordless is in the charging cradle in there.”
He was torn between going to her and doing what she asked.
“Tell them we need the police and an ambulance.”
He growled, shooting a hate-filled glare at the unmoving human sprawled facedown on the floor. “I’ll tell them to come arrest him but I won’t ask for medical assistance. I want him to suffer for as long as possible.” He glanced back at her, hoping she knew what it had cost him not to kill the bastard in the first place.
“It’s not for him.” Her voice cracked. “It’s for me.”
Moon’s heart lurched. “I hurt you that much? Is your arm broken?”
She frowned. “You didn’t do this. I was the one who jumped in front of the bullet. I’m glad it hit me instead of you.”
He looked at her arm, noticing that she was bleeding a lot more. Her fingers were covered and it stained her shirt to the elbow.
She’s been shot!
The scene at the door replayed through his mind.
The human had stood across the room but Joy had been walking away from the door when it had come crashing open. She’d been much closer to him than the male holding the gun. She’d been facing the man so she must have seen him aim at Moon, ready to fire. The next part almost took him to his knees.
“You purposely got between us. You knew he was going to shoot me.”
“Call 9-1-1. I’m trying really hard to remain calm. I’ve never been shot before. It really hurts and did I even mention that I don’t handle the sight of blood well? I don’t. I am trying really hard not to pass out.”
He rushed to her and swept her up into his arms. She gasped but didn’t protest when he almost ran to her bedroom. It was easy to locate the bathroom. Human households were the same as Species. The light was already on in there when he placed her on the counter.
“What are you doing?” The pain in her eyes tore at him.
He gripped her hand tenderly and pulled it from the wound. Blood ran faster. It was too much for him to treat with any first-aid kit she might have stashed in the bathroom. He released her hand. “Put pressure on it.” She needed a doctor, not him.
She moaned. “I think I’m going to faint. I really can’t stand seeing blood.” She did what he demanded though, seeming to fight her reaction to the wound as she held on to it.