She peeked around the corner again. The men separated, one walking toward the front of the room, the other starting toward her. Lily’s heart leaped into a hard staccato, and her pulse pounded like a freight train in her ears. Oh dear God, he was coming her way, and she was trapped.
She looked around wildly. In the dim light she spotted a second door midway to the exit. Twenty feet separated her from the man. Knowing it was now or never, she ducked low and darted toward the door, praying it was unlocked.
She twisted the knob and shoved. Relief made her legs go weak when the door opened. The room was nearly pitch-black, lit only by a slant of pre-dawn light filtering in through the single window. Blindly, Lily felt her way along the wall. Her thigh bumped into something solid. Eyes wide, she reached out and ran her hands over the piece of furniture. A desk, she realized.
Footfalls sounded outside the door. Struggling to control her breathing, Lily sidled around the desk and bumped into a chair. The sound seemed thunderous in the small room. Had he heard her? Pushing the chair back, she knelt and crawled beneath the desk. She was in the process of pulling the chair into the kneehole when the door swung open.
Lily stopped breathing. Her heart pounded so loud she feared it might give away her position. Squeezing her eyes closed, she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream creeping up her throat. She could hear her breaths rushing through her nose and prayed the man with the gun didn’t hear her.
Seconds passed like hours. Light slashed through the darkness, and she realized the man had a flashlight. The only thing separating her from certain discovery was the desk’s modesty panel. The beam swept left and right. Lily glanced at the floor, saw the toes of wing-tip shoes inches from where she crouched. He stood less than a foot away from her, so close she could hear him breathing.
After what seemed like an eternity, he cursed and stepped back. She heard his shoes shuffle against the floor. The beam made a final sweep of the room then winked out behind the closing door.
Relief brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. She remained unmoving for several minutes. When she could stand it no longer, she silently pushed the chair from the kneehole and crawled out. Her legs tingled from lack of circulation, but she barely noticed the discomfort. She was just glad to be alive.
Intent on finding Chase to warn him, she tiptoed to the door and opened it an inch. Two inches. She peered into the hall, relief sliding through her when she found it empty. Silently closing the door, she pressed her back to it and tried to get a grip on the fear. Had the men gone? Was it safe to venture from the room? Where was Chase?
She’d decided to wait a few more minutes just to be sure the man was gone when suddenly the doorknob squeaked. She darted back, paralyzed with terror as the door swung open. Horror swept through her at the sight of the gunman. His face was a pale oval in the darkness. She saw the pistol in his right hand, the flashlight in his left.
“You think I’m stupid?” he snarled.
A scream poured from her throat. Lily turned to run, but in the tiny office, there was no place to go. She was trapped with a monster bent on killing her. Looking around for a weapon, anything she could use to protect herself, she spied the letter opener on the desk and snatched it up.
“Get away from me!” she screamed.
The gun came up. Realizing she couldn’t get close enough to use the letter opener, she threw it with all her might, hoping to strike him in the face. But he deflected it, and the letter opener clattered to the floor.
“Stop or I’ll put a hole in you,” he said.
Lily sprinted toward the window. Behind her, a gunshot exploded. Willing to risk getting cut to pieces as opposed to facing the gunman, she set her hand against her abdomen and hurled herself through the glass.
Chapter Four
From the men’s room, Chase heard the gunshot. The sons of bitches had found them. Found Lily. Terror like he’d never felt before slammed into him at the thought of her being hurt—or worse.
All because of you, hotshot.
“Not gonna happen,” he ground out.
A split second and he was out the door, rushing down the hall. In the semidarkness he saw the office door ajar. It had been closed when he’d walked by just a few minutes earlier.
The sound of shattering glass exploded. Beyond the point of considering his own safety, he burst into the room. A man stood with his back to the door, looking out a broken window, a pistol in his right hand.
Fury overtook Chase. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He charged. The man spun just as Chase struck him with the full force of his body weight, slamming him against the wall. Breath rushed from the man’s lungs in an animalistic roar.
Chase caught a glimpse of the gun. Rage that this bastard would hurt a pregnant woman—his woman—sent his fist flying. His knuckles crashed into the man’s cheek, and Chase heard bone crunching. Pain shot from his hand to his elbow, but he was too enraged to pay it any mind. Even as he drew back a second time, all he could think of was Lily. Had she been shot? Cut by glass from the broken window?
The next thing Chase knew, the man was lying on the floor, unconscious. Through the window he saw Lily, and his heart raged in his chest. Oh dear God, let her be all right, he prayed. Quickly, he stooped and snatched up the man’s pistol and shoved it into the waistband of his slacks. He yanked the man’s wallet from his pocket, dropped it into his own. Next came the cell phone, which he clipped onto his belt.
Movement at the door arrested his attention. Chase spun, brought up the gun. His arm shook when he took aim, expecting another gunman. But it was only the man who ran the shelter.
The man’s mouth opened but no sound emerged.
“Sorry, old man.” Chase lowered the gun. “Thought you were someone else.”
The old man gestured toward the broken window and scolded him in Chinese.
“Tell it to the cops,” he said, and slipped through the window.
The window faced the mouth of an alley on the north side of the building. Lily stood a few feet away, her back pressed against the dirty brick as if she were no longer capable of standing on her own power. Her face was so white, she looked like a ghost. All Chase could think was that she’d been shot.
“Lily, are you all right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Striding toward her, he set his hands on her shoulders. “Lily.”
“I’m…okay.”
He tried to touch her, but she slapped his hand away. “Don’t.”
“You’re pale as hell.”
“That animal in there tried to kill me.”
“Calm down, honey. I just need to make sure you’re all right.” Clenching his jaw against the remnants of anger, of fear, he ran his shaking hands quickly over her for a cursory physical assessment. His heart tumbled into his stomach when his left hand came away red.
“My God, you’re bleeding.” His stomach plunged. “Where are you—” He thought of the baby, and the earth seemed to wobble beneath his feet. Dear God, if he’d caused her to go into early labor…
“Chase.”
He barely heard her utter his name. He was too intent on the blood. Her blood. On his hands. The symbolism was almost too much to take.
“Chase.”
Something in her voice snapped him out of it. He glanced over his shoulder to see two men with guns sprint past the mouth of the alley just thirty feet away. No time to rest or assess her injury.
“It’s not the baby,” she said. “I’m cut.”
“Where?”
“My thigh. It happened when I went through the window.”
A weird sense of relief rippled through him. Simultaneously, inappropriate thoughts of her thighs crowded his mind, but Chase quickly banked them. “You must have been terrified to risk going through that glass.”
“He would have killed me if I hadn’t.” Placing a protective hand over her abdomen, she looked away.
Guilt churned hot and jagged inside him. He hated it
that she’d been hurt. That she could have been killed. Why the hell did these violent men have to involve her?
“I’m not the only one bleeding,” she said.
Chase looked into her eyes. The beauty of her face made him ache deep inside, nudged the fear he’d felt earlier to the back of his mind. More than anything he wanted to hold her. He wanted to touch her and make sure she wasn’t seriously injured. For the moment he had to settle for keeping her safe.
“It’ll keep.” He grasped her hand. “We have to go.”
He took her to the opposite end of the alley. Cars and several groups of people crowded the street. Some of the Chinese vendors had set up tea lights at their doorways where they congregated, no doubt guarding against vandals and looters.
Looking both ways, Chase turned south and pulled Lily into an easy run. Easy for him, anyway. He could only imagine how physically grueling this was for her. His mind spun through possible hiding places.
Next to him, he could feel her lagging. Worry nipped at his conscience. At the end of the block, he slowed to a jog and cast her a look.
He checked both directions. “This way.”
Sticking to the shadows beneath the many storefront canopies, he walked briskly, tugging Lily along behind him.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“A place where we can disappear for a little while.”
As they approached Atlantic Avenue, the darkened shadow of the forty-one-story South Station Tower loomed over them like some behemoth beast. Beyond, Chase could just make out the ornate granite facade of the century-old South Station bus and rail terminal.
It was the perfect place for two people to get lost in the crowd. Hordes of weary travelers ebbed and flowed on the wide walkway in front of the building. The old-fashioned streetlamps stood dark, making it difficult to see individual faces, a plus in this case.
“If we go in there and we’re followed, we’ll be trapped,” Lily said, eyeing the place.
Chase stopped and set his hands on her shoulders. She was so small and soft. She felt fragile beneath his hands, though he knew Lily Garrett was anything but. Still, she was pregnant and injured; there was no way they could continue without rest.
“I’ve still got a few cards up my sleeve,” he said.
She searched his face. “You always do, don’t you?”
The words were more accusation than observation. Not wanting to go there, he put his arm around her shoulders and guided her through the arched doorway and into the throngs of disgruntled rail and bus passengers. Inside the great room, the station management had set up generator-powered lighting.
Chase ushered her to the bank of elevators. He’d known the cars wouldn’t be operational because of the blackout, but he was still bummed. “Damn.”
“Where are we going?”
“I studied a map of this place once during a mission a few years back. If I can get us into the underground level and find the right door, I think there’s a place where we can lay low for a while.”
“What about security?”
“Give me some credit, will you?”
Standing there with her lips pulled into a frown, her eyes level on his, she didn’t look impressed.
“Look, this place is over a hundred years old,” he said. “There’s a tunnel that was begun but only partially completed during the renovation back in the seventies. There’s no rail service, of course, but the room is tiled and ventilated. If I can remember how to get there and find the right door, I can pick the lock and we’re in.”
“You make breaking into one of the most secure ground transportation hubs in the country sound easy.”
“Honey, you have no idea.”
“Probably a good thing at this point.”
They walked the perimeter of the great room. On the north wall, Chase found an unlit stairwell sign. Turning, he quickly scanned the crowd, looking for men with guns, a face he recognized, someone paying too much attention to them, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Shoving open the door, he took Lily’s hand and they descended into the blackness.
LILY HAD NEVER SEEN such darkness. Even though Chase was close enough to touch, she couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t so much as see a single shadow. She couldn’t even see her hand when she held it mere inches from her eyes.
As they descended the stairs, claustrophobia closed over her like a giant, smothering hand. The air grew cooler. Only Chase’s hand felt incredibly warm and reassuring as it gripped hers.
Abruptly, a light flicked on. She glanced over, realized he’d pilfered the gunman’s flashlight back at the shelter. Relief made her sigh.
“You okay?” he asked.
Not wanting him to know just how close she was to the end of her endurance, she forced a smile. “Just feeling a little claustrophobic.”
“Light should help. I’m hoping the auxiliary lighting is on in the room I’m looking for.”
They came to a steel door painted utilitarian blue. Chase tried the knob, but it was locked.
“Like that’s a surprise,” Lily said. “What do we do now?”
“Pick the lock.”
“Of course we do.”
Giving her a half smile, he passed her the flashlight. “Hold this.”
Lily took the small light, wondering how long the batteries would last. She shone the beam on the lock. Beside her, Chase reached into his rear pocket and pulled out what looked like a wallet. When he opened it, an array of shiny tools came into view. A lock-picking kit, she realized, and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you carry that around with you.”
“Never leave home without it.” Touching her arm, he pushed the beam toward the lock. “Two minutes and we’ll be snug inside.”
Snug wasn’t the word that came to mind, but Lily was in desperate need of some downtime. She was in good physical condition. So far she’d had a relatively easy pregnancy. But in the past couple of weeks, late-term discomforts had set in. Combined with the trauma of the night, stress, too much activity and too little sleep, she felt lucky to be standing at all.
Kneeling, Chase went to work on the lock. Lily watched, amazed by the deftness of his hands, the speed and surety with which he worked. Around her, she could hear the low rumble of something she imagined was a generator. Somewhere, another type of machinery buzzed. Farther away, water dripped.
An audible click interrupted her thoughts. Relief went through her when the door squeaked open.
Chase usurped the flashlight from her and ushered her inside as if he were a doorman at some five-star hotel. “Home sweet home.”
The room was small and rectangular with a gray tile floor and matching walls. It held a table and chairs, a vending machine and a humming refrigerator. On the far wall was a utility closet.
“Have a seat.”
She startled at the sound of his voice.
“Easy,” he said. “We’re safe for now.”
But the reason she’d jumped had nothing to do with the gunmen and everything to do with the man she now found herself alone with.
He leaned against the doorjamb, watching her with an intensity that immediately unnerved her. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Annoyed with herself for letting him get to her on a level she didn’t like, Lily sat down. The instant her body made contact with the seat, she felt herself melting with exhaustion.
“Let me see if I can find us some light, so I can see to that cut on your leg.”
Too tired to argue, too tired to even move, Lily watched him cross to the utility closet and open the door. “Here we go. Let’s see if this works.”
Overhead, a single fluorescent bulb buzzed, then dim light poured down on them. “All the comforts of home,” he said.
“Not quite,” she called out.
He stuck his head out and grinned. “I’m not finished yet.”
She could hear him rummaging around and tried not to smile. Damn him for charming her when she didn’t want to be
charmed.
“Let’s see,” he said from the closet. “We’ve got a mop. Push broom. Air freshener.”
“What? No guns or bombs?”
“This ought to do the trick.” He stepped out of the closet, a dispenser of antibacterial soap in one hand, a small, portable shop light in the other, and a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Must be our lucky day,” she said dryly.
“Battery-powered shop light to the rescue.” Glancing up, he stepped onto one of the chairs and hooked the light onto a darkened overhead fixture. He flipped it on and bright light rained down. “Like I said, all the comforts of home.”
“If you don’t mind living in a cave.”
His eyes were sober when they landed on Lily. “I need to take a look at that cut, then I’ll let you get some rest.”
“I’m a nurse and perfectly capable of—”
“Let me do this.” As if realizing his harsh tone, he glanced away, his expression softening. “I need to make sure you’re all right.”
The cut on her leg was the last thing that worried Lily. Exhaustion and the now constant pain in her lower back overshadowed the sting of the wound. But Lily knew there was more to her resistance than the minor nature of the cut. As a nurse, she knew even a shallow gash could become infected if left untreated. But in order for Chase to administer first aid, he would have to touch her. He would have to put his hands on her thigh.
That kind of closeness was the last thing Lily needed to contend with. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, every time Chase touched her something seemed to short-circuit in her brain. The last time, they’d ended up naked on the floor of her apartment.
Stopping the errant thoughts cold, she sighed. That was the past, she reminded herself. She’d loved him once, but no more. Lily had her baby to think of now.
“Nothing personal, Lily, but you’re going to have to lose the pants.”
His voiced jerked her from her reverie. Lily looked up to see Chase standing over her, a small pail in one hand, a soap dispenser and roll of paper towels in the other.
She stared at him, his words ringing in her head like the lyrics of some annoying song. “Not in this lifetime,” she heard herself say.