Then another,
And another.
Finally, he turns to me, sorrow etched on every line and angle of his beautiful face. He silently waits for me to tell him the worst of it.
“I don’t think he was there to rape me,” I say quietly. It’s obvious that’s where Kane’s thoughts had gone as his shoulders visibly sag. “I think he was there to kill me.”
“Fuck,” he yells out into the night, then he’s lunging at me. It doesn’t scare me, though… that sudden move. Because I know Kane and I trust him. In seconds, I’m in his arms, and he’s holding me tight. I can feel the fury vibrating off his body, straight into mine, but I can also feel the relief. Because right now, at this moment, he knows I was neither raped nor murdered.
I tip my head back to look up at him. “I fought hard, Kane. My gun was under my front seat so I couldn’t get to it, but I punched, kicked, and scratched. I landed a lucky knee right to his groin, pushed him off me, and scrambled for the door. Somehow, he got a hand on my ankle and started pulling me back, but I was able to turn the latch and give it just enough of a push to open it up.”
Kane’s head turns. He looks down at Samson, who is gazing right back at Kane as if to say, “Yeah, man… I did my job.”
I smile at my best furry friend in the world. “Samson came flying in like an avenging angel. I didn’t stick around to watch, but I saw him latch onto Matthew’s arm, which caused him to release my ankle. I just heard a lot of snarling from Samson and screaming from Matthew as I scrambled out and went running for help.”
“Excuse me,” Kane says, releasing his hold on me. Dropping down to his knees beside Samson, he starts to give him vigorous head scratches. “But your dog needs more attention from me now than you do.”
It was the right words at the right time. Busting out laughing, I watch my best friend love on my other best friend for saving me.
“And tomorrow,” Kane promises him. “I’m going out to buy ten pounds of the choicest filet mignon for you, buddy.”
Samson chuffs in delight.
But then Kane’s attention comes back to me, and he rises with a somber expression. “What happened to Matthew?”
“Gone like the wind,” I say thickly, and thus the source of my continued fear.
I explain I had found some campers, who came running back with me. We found Samson guarding the van, blood around his mouth and fur, but no Matthew. The police were called, and a warrant was issued for his arrest for assault. But no one could find him. We weren’t sure what damage Samson had done, but Matthew didn’t seek medical help that the police could determine.
What they were able to find out by doing a forensics examination of my phone was Matthew had installed something that allowed him to ping my location. No telling how long he had been quietly stalking me, but I was never out of his sights.
“When I left North Carolina, I drove around aimlessly for a bit, but I realized I was heading west. I didn’t think I knew where to go, but I did. It’s why I’m here. I just need… to be safe for a bit.”
“For God’s sake, Mollie,” Kane says, grabbing me into a tight hug again. “You are safe here with me. You can stay as long as you want, and that bastard will never find you here.”
While I had considered going to my parents’ home, Matthew knew where I was from. If he’s as crazy as I think he is, that would just be too easy.
Not that he doesn’t know who Kane is to me. He knows all about my best friend the star hockey player, and there’s a chance he could figure out I’ve come here.
But he doesn’t know where Kane lives, and that’s an added measure of security.
However, when it boils down to it, I came to Kane because it’s simply where I wanted to be.
Needed, really.
I just need him right now.
CHAPTER 4
Kane
Today’s workout was a beast. Because I’m not in a rush to get back to the apartment—to Mollie—I had suggested to a few of the guys that we hit an early lunch at one of my favorite delicatessens near the arena. Mollie decided to rent a car while she’s here in Phoenix, despite my offer for her to use my truck whenever she wanted. But she wanted her own transportation, her van not the easiest to maneuver around. As it was, we’ve got it parked in one of my two slots afforded to me in the underground garage under my building, and I’ll gladly let her use the other spot. I don’t mind the hunt to find street parking.
Jim Steele and Jett Olsson took me up on my offer for lunch, so we are tucking into thick deli sandwiches and pasta salads. Jett went with three cookies on the side.
“You’re going to get fat and slow if you keep eating like that,” Jim tells him, nodding at his plate.
The three of us make up the core of the second line for the Arizona Vengeance. I’m the center, Jim is my left-winger, and Jett is my right-winger. Even though I just came to the team at the end of last season, we managed to click very well during the playoffs. I do believe the fact we won the Cup, defeating the defending Cold Fury champions, is a testament to that.
“I can beat you down the ice any day, old man,” Jett quips in his Swedish accent, giving him an evil smirk.
Jim’s not sensitive about his age. He’s one of the oldest on our team at thirty-three, but it’s just a number. He’s still quick and agile enough to beat young rookies down the ice, so he just rolls his eyes at Jett.
“I don’t know about you two,” Jett continues while chewing through a mouthful of pastrami on rye, “but I’m pumped about training camp starting next week.”
Jim and I nod our heads, choosing not to talk with our mouths full. It’s been a long summer. While not one of us bemoan the time off, we’re all eager to get back to work and see if we can win a repeat championship.
After training camp, the pre-season games start, and it’s on. Not many things in my life compare to the rush of what I do for a living, so to say I’m looking forward to getting back on the ice is an understatement.
“Which means,” Jett says, waving a cookie in our direction, “we’ve got minimal opportunity to misbehave. Thus, I’m eating cookies. Also, we should go out tonight and party it up. What do you say?”
“I’m out,” I reply without thought, wanting to do nothing more than hang with Mollie. I have no clue how long she’s going to stay with me, but if it’s only going to be a few days, I want to spend all the time I can with her.
And sure, I could bring her out with us tonight, but I don’t know where her head is right now. After our talk last night—when she told me what Matthew had done—I realized even more how precious she was to me.
“Got better plans?” Jim teases.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say. “I have a friend in town who I’m hanging with.”
“So, bring him,” Jim says.
“It’s a her,” I reply.
Jim and Jett exchange a transparent look, telling me their minds are in the gutter.
“She’s my best friend,” I explain. “It’s not like that.”
I get nothing but blank looks back, which is typical when I try to explain Mollie to people. I just don’t understand why it’s so hard for others to realize that men and women can be best friends without anything sexual.