without it.
The darkened tower of her family business loomed ahead. She walked a little faster in spite of herself. With any luck, the parking attendant would still be at his post. He would smile his usual friendly smile, and she would chuckle to herself about how paranoid she was being. She didn’t know why she felt so afraid of a guy that just a moment ago she’d thought was kind of cute. Sure, when it came to choosing men, she was a horrible failure. But that didn’t mean just because she glanced this guy’s way he would turn out to be a mugger.
She passed the stairwell leading to the parking garage’s lower level and made for the car entrance and the attendant. She turned the corner and looked to the booth.
It was empty.
Natalie’s mouth went dry. She spun around, certain the man would be behind her, a gun in his fist or maybe a knife, his lips pulling back in a sinister smile.
The sidewalk was empty, as well.
She waited. Ten seconds. Twenty. No one appeared.
He must have turned off. He must not have been following her after all.
She was obviously losing her mind. Understandable, she supposed. Ever since Rick Campbell had been exonerated in her parents’ murders two months ago and then was killed himself, the entire Kendall clan had been on edge. Murder did that. If any family knew that, it was theirs.
On top of that, two of her three brothers, Ash and Devin, had lived through horrors of their own in the past two months. Horrors they’d thankfully overcome. Both now engaged to women they loved, her two oldest brothers had been blessed as well as challenged. But the deaths of their parents continued to hang over the entire Kendall family like a shroud.
She shook her head to dislodge shadowy thoughts she’d been trying to banish for twenty years. As if a mere shake of the head would do that. The only thing that worked was painting. Turning her childhood fears and guilt into images. Getting them out of her head, onto canvas and shutting them away in her studio where no one could see them.
She ripped open the flap on her coffee and took a long sip. Already her heartbeat was slowing. Already she was starting to feel normal again. But despite her earlier promise to herself, she didn’t feel much like laughing. All she felt was grateful no one else had witnessed her ridiculousness.
Replacing the coffee flap in order to keep her latte hot, she continued down the ramp to the garage’s lower level. A lowered garage door and smaller human-size door nestled side by side at the bottom of the ramp. The executive parking filled the whole lower level. Besides being security locked, this part of the garage also had the advantage of being heated in the winter. And it had both a street entrance and an elevator that led directly to the offices on the upper floors.
Balancing her coffee in one hand, she groped in her bag for her keys.
The door behind her clicked open.
She whirled around.
Emerging from the stairwell was the man with the untucked shirt. The door slammed with a loud clang.
The sound shuddered up Natalie’s spine and echoed off the concrete. For a moment, she couldn’t focus. She couldn’t move. All she could do was think about how alone the two of them were—no other cars, no one to come to her aid. Even if she screamed, would anyone hear?
Her phone. Instead of grabbing her keys, she pulled out her cell. She stared at the screen. Underground garage. Surrounded by concrete.
No service.
She held the phone to her ear anyway. If he thought she was calling someone, he would leave her alone. Wouldn’t he? The shuffling sound of those god-awful loafers moved toward her.
A high whistle of panic rose in her ears. Oil and concrete and old exhaust clogged her throat.
“No reception down here, I bet,” he said in a quiet voice.
He wasn’t fooled by the phone. All she could do was make a run for it. Get through the door and slam it before he could follow. She dropped the useless phone back in her bag and groped for her keys. Her fingers hit steel. She pulled the key chain out, jingling in shaking fingers. She tried to fit her key into the lock.
“Need help with that?”
His voice was right behind her shoulder. The faint mint scent of mouthwash fanned her neck.
She turned her head to look at him.
He stared at her with sharp brown eyes. His dark blond hair was mussed, blown by the wind. He looked like a regular guy. Perfectly ordinary.
Then why was she so frightened?
She turned back to the door. He hadn’t hurt her yet. Hadn’t even touched her. All he’d done was ask if he could help. That had to mean something. Right? Maybe she was doing all this panicking for nothing. Maybe she really was going crazy after all. “No, thanks. I can get it.”
“You seem … scared.”
She didn’t know what to say. Admit she was frightened out of her mind? Or just play it cool. “I was just startled.”
“Startled? That’s not what I had in mind.”
His voice sounded low, calm. Everything Natalie wasn’t. Everything she didn’t think a mugger should be, either. “I’m … I’m okay now.” She fibbed, feeling far less than okay.
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you know who I am?”
“Know you?” She turned to face him. He stood so close she took a step back, hitting the door. “You were in the coffee shop.”
“Yes. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time.” He smiled. Cool. Casual. But his eyes … something about them seemed hard. Something about his smile felt less than friendly.
Was she imagining it?
“Excuse me. Hate to interrupt.” The voice came from behind the man. Someone else.
She peered past one of the skinny shoulders. Another man stood in the doorway to the stairwell, his tall, well-muscled frame filling the space. Everything about him—the expression on his face, the way he held his body, the look in his eyes—exuded calm and control. And even though she didn’t know anything more about this man than she did the guy who’d followed her from the coffee shop, she let a relieved breath escape from her lungs and sagged back against the door. “No interruption. Really.”
The man staring at her turned to face the interloper. “Who in the hell are you?”
“I’d like to ask you the same question.”
“Too bad I asked it first.”
He walked from the stairwell. His steps came slow and steady but Natalie could feel something coiled underneath. Power. Readiness. He stopped a few feet away. His eyes focused on the smaller man, hazel slits. “I’m a friend of Ms. Kendall’s. You?”
The man closest to her looked away to the door. His shoulders seemed to grow even more slight. He shuffled away from her, one step, two. “I’m … This is a misunderstanding.”
