I press myself against the building, cursing the fact that the facade has been torn off, stripping it down to white. I’m wearing head-to-toe black. There’s nowhere to hide.
I’m fucked.
Another shot misses narrowly when it pings against the plaster less than a foot from my ribs. He keeps hauling ass, and the next round comes even closer, inches from my head.
One more bullet in his mag, and the corner is in sight.
Almost there…
The guy—he might not be using an assassin’s weapon, but he shoots as well as one—takes aim. Finally, I reach the corner of the building, and I yank myself toward it and freedom when he takes his last shot.
It digs through the left side of my neck, burning like a bitch.
Blood spurts and seeps. If the asshole nicked my artery—and he fucking might have—I’ve got minutes to live.
I can’t panic. I’m out of his view and, bleeding or not, if I intend to escape and call for help, it’s got to be now.
I drag myself to my car, feeling warm blood trickling down my chest to be absorbed by my rain-damp shirt. I fumble for my keys, knowing this SOB won’t be far behind. He’ll change his clip and hunt me down. It’s what I’d do to my mark.
But I see he’s already planned ahead since I have four flat tires.
This isn’t random. He knows my car. He knows me on sight.
He’s marked me for death.
Fuck, I will not lie here and die in a goddamn wet alley, victim of some unseen shooter for a cause I didn’t have a chance to snuff out.
But what about Havana? I can’t risk her. I can’t drag her into danger.
But you want to claim her? Marry her? Breed her?
I hope like fuck the would-be killer on my tail has no idea why I’m here. I have to warn her. If I can disappear into the vet’s office before my blood leaves a trail, he’ll be none the wiser. But I’ve got to be smart. I have to misdirect him before I dare approach Havana.
Two stores short of the vet’s back door, I pick the lock on what used to be a drugstore and toss it half open. When I was casing the lot earlier, I noticed the space hadn’t been completely cleared of merchandise. If my pursuer gives chase on foot, he’s likely to think I holed up in there to find supplies that might stem the bleeding.
Blackness floats at the edge of my vision. More liquid warmth mingles with the rain oozing down my chest. I can’t press a hand to it yet, or the second I touch the vet’s door handle, I’ll leave a bloody print for this fucker to follow.
Limping and dizzy, I finally reach the doggy doctor’s back door. It’s not much of a lock, and I’m in ten seconds later.
If I survive this night and Havana wants to keep working here, I’ll be installing something a lot sturdier.
Breathing hard, I ease the door shut just as an engine revs and zooms down the alley.
It never stops, simply roaring down the narrow pathway, almost careening into a dumpster.
I dare to crack the door, and I understand instantly. Someone called the police, and a squad car now chases my assailant.
That should occupy him for a few minutes.
After I close the door again and lock it behind me, I look around. It’s a dark storeroom. I shouldn’t turn on a light in case the hired gun comes back, but I manage to fumble for my phone and flip on the flashlight. On the floor, I spot a length of nylon rope. It takes a shitload of my remaining strength, but I loop it around the door lever and secure the other half to a nearby metal storage rack.
If he comes back, he won’t get in easily.
Now I have to find Havana, make sure she’s safe, then grab some medical supplies and concoct a way out of here without my assailant being any wiser.
As I stagger to the door, I catch my foot on the leg of another storage rack and trip. The shelves crash down. I stumble against the door.
Blood pours like hot wax down my skin. The floor looks inviting as my consciousness begins to slide away.
Get to Havana, keep her safe.
Gathering the last of my strength, I wrench the door of the storeroom open.
I hear a gasp. With bleary eyes, I look up. In the doorway stands the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever had the fortune to lay my hands on. The girl who’s haunted my fantasies and kept me hard for weeks. The girl who’s legally become a woman today.
“Havana…”
Then everything goes black.
Havana
This isn’t how I envisioned spending my eighteenth birthday. After checking on the animals recovering from surgery and tending to those we’re boarding, I sit under the dim light in the otherwise dark animal clinic where I work. At least I’ve got other people’s pets for company. But I’ve done my duty here for the evening. I should go home and chill. But then I’d be completely alone.
Why didn’t he come for me today?
I push thoughts of Ransom Garrison out of my head. Him waiting for me to be legal so he could sweep me off my feet, tell me I’m the love of his life, and make me his is a ridiculous fantasy. He’s a man in every sense of the word. I’m still a girl. Technically, I’m a woman today. In my head, I’ve been an adult since my parents died three years ago in a car accident, leaving me with a flighty aunt who decided I was “grown enough” when I turned sixteen. More like she hated the fact her flaky boyfriends showed more interest in me.
When she tossed me out, I was almost relieved. But that forced me to grow up fast. I had to get a job to eat. I kept a roof over my head by relying on the kindness of friends and their parents who let me crash on their sofa for a night or two. The school janitor sometimes took pity on me and let me stay in the girls’ locker room overnight. But if I hadn’t left Aunt Tilly’s, it was a matter of time before one of those creeps she dated cornered me and tried to coerce me into something I never wanted.
At least I never wanted it until I laid eyes on Ransom.
The minute we met, all I could think about was sex. But my feelings quickly developed into something deeper.
I never meant to fall for him. His son, Ethan, offered me a place to crash when he found out I was between sofas. We liked some of the same movies. He also understood a dysfunctional household because his mom used to peace in and out of his life all the time, and his dad, while steady, isn’t always home. Ethan seemed cool and interesting, so when he asked, I agreed to be his girlfriend. But he always felt more like my friend than my bae. I never knew why.
Then he introduced me to his father.
Ransom and I only managed to keep our hands off one another for two short weeks. Then came that wonderful, horrible morning…
When I entered the kitchen, I saw the lust on his face before he could hide it. After a night of fantasizing about him, of trying futilely to find orgasm, seeing the dark expression that said he wanted to put his hands and mouth all over me until I begged him to ease the ache in my pussy set me off. I couldn’t take the wanting anymore. I threw myself against him and pressed my lips inexpertly to his. I worried I was crossing a line, but he merely lifted me onto the counter, spread my legs like he couldn’t wait another second either, groaned my name, and delved into my mouth as if he was on fire and only I could save him.
Then Ethan stumbled into the kitchen.
Ransom wrenched away from me, and it ripped my heart in two. When he said I needed to leave, I thought I would die. Yes, he made sure I had a place to stay…but I didn’t want the scraps of his guilt. So I got my GED and found this job. It gets me a step closer to a career working with animals and it pays the rent.