“Thanks. Looks like the dinner crowd is still going strong even though it’s after ten. You’ve got to love the holidays.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I foresee holiday bonuses after this comin’ weekend.”
She smiled. “That sounds nice.”
“It should be. You all work your asses off. You deserve somethin’.”
They reached the back door leading out to the parking lot. She hadn’t been able to get a close spot due to the large crowd at the restaurant, so they headed toward the back of the lot. The air burned her lungs as she breathed in. The temperatures were falling below freezing again.
“Just might get that white Christmas,” Rowan said, looking around to scope out the shadows between the vehicles.
His voice sounded loud in the dark, quiet lot. Everly nodded. She caught sight of Champ and smiled.
“All tires fully inflated,” she said.
“Yeah. I don’t expect—”
They both turned when they heard a sound to the left. Rowan moved to block her view.
“What the hell? Sex in my parkin’ lot?” he barked.
Everly hunched her shoulders over his tone, even though it wasn’t directed at her. She pulled out her cell phone so she could text Cole that she was leaving even as Rowan looked at her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “The car’s twenty feet away and you can see me. Go and stop those godforsaken fornicators.”
Despite his obvious irritation, he grinned over her word choice. Then he cracked his knuckles. “Oh, I’ll stop ‘em, all right.”
She laughed and shook her head as she headed to her car. Composing her text, she decided to include some kind of reference to the parking lot sex. She was so absorbed that she didn’t notice the dark figure squatting near Champ’s trunk until it started to move.
“Watch out!” someone called at the same time her peripheral vision caught the movement.
She instinctively brought up her arm to protect her head. Pain blasted through her forearm. Her phone went flying. She fell hard.
The last image she saw was Champ’s hood rising up to meet her.
Chapter 32
Cole almost called off his night out with the guys. They’d convinced him at the photo shoot that he needed to get out with them. It had been a while since he’d done so, and since Everly was working and his shoulder was feeling a lot better, he’d ultimately conceded. Marshall’s driver was going to collect everyone in a limo so they didn’t have to worry about their alcohol consumption. They planned on dining at a high-end sushi restaurant for dinner at seven, then hitting up a club or two.
There was a time when he’d lived for these kinds of evenings. Now, he thought about how nice it had been to share a simple meal and a couple of movies with Everly. What did it say that he would choose the second option in a heartbeat over the first if given the choice?
Since he didn’t have a choice, he decided that going out was better than sitting around the house by himself. He showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt with three buttons at the collar. Unlike many of his teammates, he didn’t wear a lot of jewelry. His only accessory was his watch, a silver Audemars Piguet he’d bought the year before.
The limo arrived just as he pulled his leather jacket off the hanger in the coat closet. He granted the driver access and prepared to enjoy his evening.
In the end, he was glad he decided to go. Their group consisted of mostly single guys, but a couple of married ones, like Marshall, also attended. Javier, Anton, and Billy were there, as were their teammates, Chris Kinney and Nicholas Ford.
The sushi was amazing. Cole had only recently developed a taste for the stuff. The rounds of sake that they downed along with the food gave him a nice buzz. He relaxed and caught up with his friends, signing a few autographs as people approached the table.
After dinner, they headed to one of their regular clubs. Marshall had called ahead and let them know they were coming, so they were shown up to the VIP section by the club’s manager as soon as they arrived. Cole ended up sitting in the back of a large, circular booth that encompassed the entire left side of the club’s top floor. They had a bird’s eye view of the downstairs bar, the large, thriving dance floor, and the DJ’s brightly lit stage. Special glass helped keep the blare of the music to a more reasonable level on the upper floor, so Cole wasn’t forced to scream every word or strain to hear his friends.
They started with a round of whiskey shots and ordered their drinks from the upstairs bartender. Then Marshall said, “Let’s hit the dance floor.”
“Not right now, man,” Cole said. “I’ll sit with the table this time around.”
“Come on, Cole,” Nick argued. “Didn’t you see the hot chicks down there?”
“He’s got his own hot chick,” Billy said with a grin. He elbowed Cole as he slid out of the booth behind the others. “Can’t say I blame him for sitting this one out.”
Nick looked between Billy and Cole as he stood beside the table. “What hot chick? I haven’t heard about any hot chicks.”
“That’s because it’s guys’ night out,” Cole responded. “No girl talk.”
He heard some of his teammates telling Nick about Everly as they walked away. The positive things they had to say made him smile, even if some of them were inappropriate.
Their drinks arrived while the guys were on the dance floor, so Cole sipped on his Jack and Coke and looked around the VIP area. There were a number of females looking his way. He saw a couple of them tossing back their drinks and imaged they’d approach the table before too long. Not even three months ago, he might have found it entertaining to invite one of them to join him for a dance or a drink. Now, he found himself comparing them to Everly.
What would she think of this place? he wondered. Would she find it fun? Boring? He was sure she’d never been inside a club before. Could she even dance?
There was still so much about her that he didn’t know.
“Here all alone?”
Since Cole had tipped his glass back to drink, he took his time with it and studied Rebecca over the rim. He supposed he shouldn’t be overly surprised to see her. This was the most popular club in town, after all. Had he ever brought her there? He couldn’t remember.
She looked as gorgeous as always, her hair and makeup perfectly done. Her clinging black top managed to display her breasts while remaining classy. It didn’t quite meet her jeans, revealing an eye-catching band of skin around her midsection that included a belly button piercing.
Beside her stood a tall male in his late twenties who looked like he had stepped off the cover of GQ. Judging by his clothes and shoes, he was made of money. His dark hair was cut very similarly to Cole’s. He stood looking between Rebecca and Cole with a puzzled expression on his face. When Cole lowered the glass, the man’s eyes widened.
“Sure seems that way,” Cole said, meeting Rebecca’s taunting gaze. “But being here alone sure as hell beats being here with you.”
Her nostrils flared. Her dark eyes snapped with insult.
“Jesus—you’re Cole Parker,” the man said. His eyes got even wider. His mouth wouldn’t close.
Cole spared him another glance. He knew a rabid fan when he saw one. Flashing a smile that showed all of his teeth, he extended his hand.
“Sure am. Nice to meet you.”
The man grasped his hand and pumped it. “Damn, I can’t believe this. I’m a huge fan. Do you know Rebecca?”
“We used to date,” Rebecca said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I broke it off earlier this year.”
“Holy shit—I’m dating a woman who used to date Cole Parker?”
Cole continued to smile, but he finally pulled his hand away from the other guy’s. “Yep. Good luck with that, by the way.” Giving him a man-to-man look, he added, “Seriously…more power to you.”
When the man looked uncertainly at Rebecca, she clenched her jaw. Her gaze could have set tinder to flame.
“You have
some nerve speaking negatively about me when you’re dating a psychopath,” she said.
Cole’s back teeth snapped together. He drew in a deep breath as his temper fired.
“Oh, hell no,” boomed Javier’s loud voice. “She ain’t talkin’ ‘bout my little red hot mama, is she?”
Rebecca’s date watched Cole’s teammates surround the booth. “Jesus! Are you Javier Rios? Marshall Grant? Billy Devereaux!”
“Yeah, she’s talking about Everly,” Cole said, not looking away from Rebecca.
“Uh-uh,” Javier said, wagging a finger in her face. “You don’t talk ‘bout her that way. Ever. In fact, my friend Griffin is ‘bout to show you to the door.”
“I don’t think so,” Rebecca huffed.
Javier quirked an eyebrow. “Yo, Griff!”
The enormous male standing by the doors to the VIP section made his way over to their table. “‘Sup, Javy?”
“Would you see that these two don’t bother us anymore?”
“Sho’ ‘nuf.”
Rebecca’s jaw dropped as her arm was encircled by a meaty grip. When she tried to pull away, the bouncer shook his head at her. He held her date in an equally firm grip.
“Wait—can I get your autographs?” the man asked. “I won’t ever see her again, I swear!”
None of them bothered to respond. Cole grinned as his teammates joined him in the booth.
“Thanks, man,” he said to Javier. “I owe you a drink.”
His friend waved that off. “We all have crazy exes, man. Ironic that she’s callin’ your girl the loco one.”
“You’re telling me.”
Cole was on this third drink as ten o’clock rolled around. He had his phone in front of him on the table in anticipation of Everly’s text that she was done with work and heading home. It was more than a little ridiculous how much he was looking forward to it. Christ, it was just a text.
Still, he found himself checking the time on his phone every thirty seconds as ten o’clock came and went. He knew she wouldn’t walk out the door exactly on the hour, so he killed time talking to his friends until ten-fifteen.
Any minute now…
By ten-thirty, he began to grow concerned. Had Rowan asked her to work overtime? The restaurant had been really busy, Everly had said. That was great to hear, but Cole didn’t appreciate it keeping Everly out working even more than she already did.
By ten-forty-five, his anxiety reached an uncomfortable level. He picked up his phone and texted, Working late?
Maybe she’d forgotten to text him, he thought. She’d had a long day. Although he’d feel pathetic if she’d forgotten, it was understandable.
When he got no response for ten minutes, he finally broke down and called her cell. It rang five times and then went to voicemail. He clicked off without leaving a message.
“Everything all right?” Marshall asked.
Cole tried to shake the feeling plaguing him. “Sure, man.”
But when his cell rang two minutes later and he saw Wyatt’s number on the Caller ID, Cole’s heart plummeted into his stomach.
Tapping the accept button, he plugged his left ear and held his phone to his right. “Wy? Is something wrong?”
“Cole, where are you?” his brother asked.
Although it was Wyatt’s usual calm tone, Cole’s chest seized with fear. “I’m at the club—Nightscape. What’s wrong?”
“Meet me out front in five minutes.”
“Jesus, Wyatt…what the hell is going on?” Cole lifted the phone briefly from his mouth and gave Marshall a light push, saying, “Guys, let me out.”
“Everly was attacked in the Prix Fixe parking lot. She’s on her way to the hospital.”
Cole’s phone fell to the table with a clatter. He scrambled to pick it back up with shaking hands. The call had disconnected. Wyatt’s words ran through his head. Vaguely, he realized that no one had moved.
“Get out of the way, guys,” he shouted above the music. “Everly’s on the way to the hospital.”
Everyone froze. Cole pressed five wrong buttons before he managed to dial his brother back. It went straight to voicemail.
”Damn it! What the hell are you waiting for?” he asked his teammates. “My brother’s almost here. I have to go and meet him.”
“You ain’t goin’ alone,” Javier said. “We’re comin’ with you.”
Chapter 33
Cole had to wait until they were standing outside to call Wyatt back. The noise was so loud that he wouldn’t have been able to hear his brother as they hurried through the club.
Those were the longest two minutes of his life.
What the hell had happened? What did Wyatt mean, Everly was attacked? Wasn’t that another word for raped?
His stomach pitched at the thought.
Dear God.
Griffin led the way for them to a side exit. Cole raced through the door and hurried for the street where he knew Wyatt would arrive. His friends went with him, waiting to hear which hospital so they could take the limo. Cole dialed Wyatt again. It went to voicemail.
“What the hell, Wyatt?” He kicked a nearby curb. Fear nearly choked him.
Before he could try another redial, Wyatt’s Infinity rounded the corner. Cole nearly flung himself into the street to stop him. He wrenched open the passenger side door.
“Which hospital?” he asked.
“Northside.”
Marshall clapped Cole on the back. “Got it. See you there.”
“Thanks, guys.” He sat beside his brother and pulled the door closed. They sped off, something that surprised Cole. Wyatt didn’t speed. “Your phone is going straight to voicemail.”
“I just hung up with Rowan. He rode in the ambulance with Everly. He wanted to let me know that she regained consciousness.”
The words had unexpected emotion clogging Cole’s throat. He had to clear it twice before he asked, “What happened?”
“Someone was waiting for her when she left work tonight.” Wyatt’s hands gripped the steering wheel. He maneuvered around the vehicles in front of them as though he was a regular on the NASCAR circuit. “They used a goddamn baseball bat on her, Cole.”
All of the air left Cole’s lungs. Sweet Jesus.
Everly.
“Rowan walked her to her car after her shift. Neither of them saw the attacker hiding in the shadows. Rowan was distracted by a couple of kids he had to chase off. All he saw was someone bringing the bat up and taking a swing at Everly’s head.”
Cole clutched his knees, willing his head to clear so he could focus. His eyes didn’t absorb the cityscape outside the windshield. He was picturing a baseball bat swinging toward Everly.
“The bat hit her forearm. Probably saved her life. She struck her head on her car as she fell, though. Then the bastard hit her again while she was down.”
This time, Cole didn’t try to speak over the emotion that surged through him. He’d been less than a mile away. Jesus, he’d been knocking back drinks and having a great time while Everly had been wailed on by some son of a bitch with a bat.
“When Rowan called from the ER, he said they had just taken Everly back to evaluate her injuries.” Wyatt glanced at him. “She woke up as they arrived at the hospital. The only thing she said was your name.”
That explained why Wyatt had called him. Pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, he just nodded.
“Look, Cole…they didn’t catch who did this. Rowan didn’t want to chase them down and leave Everly. Could it have been Rebecca?”
The words struck him like a punch. He looked at Wyatt.
“I just saw her tonight. At the club. We had her and her date kicked out for—”
He cut himself off. Horror and fury festered in his chest. Had he gotten Rebecca so pissed off that she took a bat to Prix Fixe?
Had he done this to Everly?
“You had Rebecca kicked out of Nightscape?” Wyatt prompted.
“Yes. Well, Javy did.” He ran a hand d
own his face. “Jesus.” He finally tuned into their surroundings. “This isn’t the way to the hospital.”
“I thought we’d go by Everly’s house and notify her grandfather, pick up some clothes for her,” Wyatt said. “They would have cut her clothes off while administering emergency aid.”
Cole looked out of his window and didn’t respond. Wyatt’s words wrenched his gut.
After a moment, he mentally shook himself. Everly needed him to keep it together. He didn’t need to scare her grandpa by showing up on his doorstep looking panicked and wrecked. He took several deep breaths to center himself as he saw the familiar porch come into view.
He imagined the Ford in the driveway belonged to Everly’s father. That was actually a relief. He didn’t want Jake to struggle to get to the door on top of everything else.
“Are you okay with talking to Everly’s grandfather while I try to reach Rowan for an update?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
Cole opened the passenger door and got out of the car. Running his hands over his face again, he bounded up the porch stairs to the front door. While he wasn’t relishing the thought of having this conversation, he wanted to get to Everly as quick as he could. He opened the screen door and knocked.
The man who he assumed was Mason Wallace opened the door. He stood only an inch or two shorter than Cole and was in good physical shape. Unlike Everly, he had blond hair and glacial blue eyes.
“Mr. Wallace?” he said.
“Cole Parker.” Mason’s demeanor changed from irritated to delighted. “Sure, I’m Mason Wallace. Come on in. Dad and I were just watching SportsCenter.”
Cole stepped inside. He caught Jake’s eye and watched as understanding sank in.
“Oh, no.” Jake shook his head, his eyes wide. “Not my girl.”
“I’m sorry. Everly’s in the hospital,” Cole said, not sure how else to convey something like this. “She was attacked in the restaurant’s parking lot after her shift.”
“What the hell is this?” Mason demanded. “Everly? Attacked?”
“Yes. Someone hit her—” Cole stopped and cleared his throat again. “With a baseball bat.”