Obsession (9 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The tapping of Alex’s cane echoed off the metal walls of the warehouses.

“AJ?”

He ignored Tony and, just like he had that fateful night, listened to the long wail of a barge horn floating down the river.

He stopped and looked at the ground where Jason had died. The memories pushed at his mind, trying to find a release.

The kid should have been home, fast asleep, not in the middle of the warehouse district dealing drugs. He remembered thinking Jason looked cocky at first, but the cockiness had vanished when they both realized someone else was there.

Another voice speaking from the darkness. Just at the edge of the lights. Alex strained to remember, to see who had been standing there, but nothing came to him. It was as if that part of his memory had been erased because it jumped, out of sequence, to shots being fired. He remembered rolling. He remembered pain. Blood. Jason’s eyes looking at him, accusing him. Sirens. More blood. Pouring between his fingers, making the cold pavement slick.

He remembered fighting to stay awake. To tell Tony that he knew the shooter.

***

Strong arms wrapped around her, squeezing the air from her lungs. Hot breath brushed her bare neck. She tried to scream but he turned her around and pressed hard, wet lips against hers, stealing her breath and swallowing her scream. His erection pushed into her stomach. She swallowed bile and struggled to pull away, to get a look at him, but he was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and a black ski mask over his face.

With a growl, he spun her so her back was pressed against his chest and his arms pinned hers to her side. She struggled, panic clawing at her thoughts.

“Did you get the Christmas present I left on your front porch? I did that for you, Tess. What’d you think?”

She went still. Good God, he knew her
name
.

He shifted.

Don’t let him get off center or you’re screwed.
All those times Alex had wrestled with her—coaching her on how to get out of certain holds, telling her what to do if she were attacked—came back. It’d been a game to her, something fun they would do together. Never did she think she’d actually have to use those moves.

Get your hand underneath his arm. Loosen his hold,
she heard Alex say.

She tried to lift her arms, to force his hands apart, but he was too strong and she felt her terror begin to drag her under.

He was going to rape her. She knew that as sure as she knew that she would fight him with everything she had.

Wet, disgusting lips touched her neck and she screamed. His hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her cry. Had the person in the next apartment heard her over the TV?
Oh please, please have heard me. Please help me.

She bit his hand.

He yanked it away. “Goddamn bitch,” he whispered harshly.

Twist into the hold, he won’t be expecting that.

Tess went one better. She twisted and reared her head back at the same time, catching the guy in the nose. He cried out and she slipped her arms free, spun and kicked him in the balls. What started as a yell turned into a high-pitched squeak. His knees buckled and Tess sprinted for the door.

***

Alex settled on the bar stool and took a long drink of beer. His hands were still shaking, but the fear had faded.

Tony grabbed his own beer, swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” played in the background, accompanied by low laughter and the clacking of billiard balls.

The bartender, a woman with a nose ring and eyes lined in black, washed glasses, her gaze going to the mirror above her head to check out the room behind her.

Tony nearly drained his entire bottle. “Okay, I’m fortified. Tell me what happened back there.”

Alex ran a shaky hand through his hair and grabbed a pretzel from the bowl in front of them, breaking it in half. “I talked to the guy that night.”

“What’d you talk about?”

Alex crushed the pretzel in his fist. “I don’t remember.” God
damn
, this was beyond frustrating. “I just remember knowing the guy.”

“What’d he look like?”

Alex opened his fist. Crumbs fell from his finger into a little pile on the bar. “Can’t remember. I didn’t see him at first because he stuck to the shadows, then he stepped into the light and I was shocked.”

Tony pulled the bowl of pretzels in front of him and grabbed two. “What’d his voice sound like? How tall was he? Slight build? Bulky? Black? White?”

“Medium height. Shorter than me, but not by much. Caucasian.”

“Voice?”

“Can’t remember.”
Damn it all to hell!

“But you know him?”

“I know him.”

“How?”

Alex’s thoughts turned inward, remembering his fear for Tess’s safety and the overpowering need to give Tony a name, to extract a promise from his best friend to watch over Tess, to protect her. The name eluded him now, but he still feared for Tess’s safety. Damn it, he’d been right all along. This guy was still after him and now he was after Tess.

“What did I say to you after you got there?” he asked.

“Hell, Alex, I don’t know. You were talking about Tess. Wanted me to tell her you loved her. I was busy calling for the ambulance and keeping your white ass from bleeding out.”

“Is that what I said? ‘Tell Tess I love her’?”

Tony shook his head, stirring his finger through the pretzels in the bowl. “I guess. It all happened so fast and we were all so shocked. It was supposed to be a routine buy, not a damn bloodbath.”

Tony’s voice shook. His shooting had been hard on his longtime partner and Tony was dealing with his own shit about that night. Tony’s cell phone chirped and he put his beer down to answer it. “Blankenship.”

Alex took another swallow of beer and ate a pretzel. Who the hell was the shooter and how did he know him?

“When?”

Tony’s gaze met his and Alex’s stomach lurched.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Tony flipped his phone shut and slid off the barstool. “Pay the lady, Juran. We gotta go.”

Alex reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “What’s up?”

“It’s Tess.”

***

He hadn’t expected her at the apartment. But once he saw her, he had to get closer. And once he got closer, he’d had to touch her.

Her body, wrapped in his arms, sent a fire through him no whore or self-gratification could match. When his hard dick pressed into her, he’d known he had to make her his. Take Juran’s woman from him. Make the prick watch. That’d show him.

Of course she might have something to say about that. She’d fought him like a banshee.

No matter.

He loved it when a woman fought, when she didn’t know what was best for her. He could show her what was best, show her
he
was best.

Oh, yeah.

He’d show her.

***

Alex had the car door open before Tony threw it in park. He jumped out, ignoring his knee and the cane lying on the floor.

Two cruisers sat in front of his apartment complex, their red-and-blue lights twirling. Tess was talking to Jackson, her arms wrapped around her middle, her back to the street so she didn’t see him.

Upton stepped in front of him. “She’s fine,” he said, softly but firmly. “Alex, look at me.”

He tore his eyes from Tess and looked at Upton.

“She’s holding on just fine. Let her finish her report to Jackson, then you can go to her.”

“What happened?”

“Jackson got a call about a woman being attacked. As soon as he discovered it was Tess, he called me. Apparently some guy entered your apartment while she was there.”

Oh, God. Oh, shit.

“Did you catch him?”

Upton hesitated. “We’re still looking, but we have something to go on. Not many men wondering the street with a bloody nose and clutching his balls. She’s a trooper, Juran. She fought back and got out. You should be proud of her.”

Tess clasped her arms tighter around herself and shivered. Jackson awkwardly patted her on the shoulder and walked away. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eye and looked at the apartment building, the unnatural paleness in her cheeks a stark contrast to the bright red of her hair. She sniffed and rubbed a finger under her nose.

“Tess?”

She spun around, her hand going to her mouth, fear flaring in her eyes. He closed the distance between them and folded her in his arms.

She laid her cheek on his chest. “Take me home,” she said, her voice whispery thin.

Alex stroked her hair, his gaze scanning the area, looking for anyone out of place.

“Please, Alex, take me home.”

Tess first. Let the cops deal with the guy
. “Sure, baby.”

He tucked her in the crook of his arm and helped her into the van, then took the keys from her lifeless fingers and climbed in the driver’s side. Tony appeared and handed Alex his cane through the open window.

“You okay to drive?” He glanced at Tess.

“Fine,” he said.

Upton stepped up next to Tony. “She going to be okay?” He tilted his head toward Tess.

Alex inserted the key in the ignition. “Just catch the bastard.”

Alex shut off the engine and turned to Tess. All the way home she’d stared out the front windshield with her hands twisted in her lap. He’d competently dealt with hysterical females before, but Tess’s expressionless face unnerved him.

“Tess?”

She turned to him, her face pale, one hand on her stomach. “Keys.”

“Tess—”

She held out a shaking hand, the only indication of her controlled emotions. “Keys.”

With a sigh, Alex handed them over. She scrambled out of the van and, slipping and sliding over the melting ice, hurried to the front door. Alex grabbed his cane and followed Tess inside, wishing he could move faster.

Her coat lay on the floor. Gloves, a scarf and shoes trailed a path down the hall. Othello came to him and whined, his big brown eyes concerned.

Alex found her in the bathroom, crouched over the toilet, retching. He wet a washcloth and clumsily sank down beside her to wipe her face and pull her hair out of her eyes.

When the worst of it seemed to be over, she leaned back on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Alex handed her a glass of water and she rinsed out her mouth. “Feel better?”

“No.”

Alex took her hand and stood, using the wall as support. “Want to lie down?”

He led her to the bedroom where he pulled down the covers. Hard to believe that just this morning they’d lain there in each other’s arms and laughed.

Tess curled into a ball and tugged the blankets over her shoulder. Her body shook and she closed her eyes. One lone tear traveled across her cheek, soaking into the pillow.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t.” He limped around the bed, toed his shoes off and climbed in next to her. Once again he hadn’t been there when she’d needed him. Once again he’d failed her.

When he closed his eyes, Jason’s eyes stared back at him—accusing, unseeing. He drifted into that no-man’s-land of being half-asleep, half-awake, that place where nightmares easily took over.

He lay on the cold ground, blood pouring from his leg, the sound of receding footsteps echoing off the metal walls and looked at the lifeless eyes of Tess.

In his dream a scream ripped from his throat and ended on an agonizing sob. He reached for her and his hand, searching for something he feared he’d never again hold, folded into a fist and dropped to the pavement while sirens blared in the background.

***

Tess opened her eyes to find Alex sitting in a chair reading a book, his feet propped beside her on the bed. He wore the glasses he’d had on the night he’d baked her cookies.

He turned the page and glanced at her, then stilled. “You’re awake.”

“When did you start wearing glasses?” Beneath the covers, she pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

“Before Thanksgiving.” Slowly he bent the corner of his page and closed the book with a soft
thwap
. “I hate them, but I can’t read without them.”

“I like them. They make you look—”

“Sexy?” He smiled, although his eyes were serious behind the lenses.

She smiled too, or at least tried. “I did everything you told me to. All those self-defense moves. They work.”

He blew out a breath and took his glasses off. “Jesus, Tess.”

“He was going to rape me.”

Alex closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “Shit.”

“Thank you. For teaching me.”

He slid his feet to the floor and moved to the edge of the bed to brush her hair off her face. “Do you feel sick anymore?”

She shook her head and looked at the wall.

“Do you think, maybe, you should talk to someone about this? Maybe see a doctor to make sure you’re okay?”

“No.” She didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger, didn’t want a doctor probing her when she knew she wasn’t hurt.

“Maybe you should. I mean, I’m here and I’ll listen, but I’m not a professional.”

“No.”

“Tessie.”

She swung her gaze to his. “No.”

***

The next few weeks were hell for Alex. At night he held Tess while she cried and during the day he hovered. She hated the hovering, but he couldn’t help it. When he let her out of his sight, his chest got tight and he found it hard to breathe. Like a panic attack.

“I thought the door had popped open when the furnace kicked on,” she said one day. She was mixing some sort of batter and he was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. It took him a while to figure out what she was talking about and when he did, he couldn’t move.

“I think that’s when he entered the apartment.” She measured salt and poured it into the batter.

That day set a pattern. Tess seemed to feel more comfortable telling him what happened in bits and pieces and only while she was baking. Of course he’d read the report, but this was different. This was Tess working it out in her mind, and he was lost as to how to help her.