Hidden Impact Read online

  She shook her head. “No worries. You need to catch the bus, right? Don’t wait for me. I’m parked just up the street anyway. Totally safe.”

  “You’re sure?” Charlie’s brows drew together and briefly she flashed back to the way the mercenary’s scowl had darkened his face. A fierce expression—not frightening so much as intimidating—and Charlie couldn’t be more different. What she needed now was more than any of her friends or family could do.

  “Yes.” She forced her lips to widen in a smile. “Absolutely.”

  Another door opened farther down the alleyway, the venue’s other back exit. Several men and women stepped out, all with the dark suits of the personal security her client had hired. Funny the way Henderson enjoyed flaunting his mercenary security, but they’d carried themselves with better polish and sophistication than the majority of the guests.

  Speak of the devil. The man she’d spoken to and his colleagues must be heading home too, wherever it was for each of them. She wondered if they called each other “colleagues” or something more...militant.

  “See?” She turned back to Charlie. “I’m not even alone back here. Get going. And if anything happens, I’ll shout to those guys for help.”

  Charlie eyed the group dubiously. “Men like those aren’t safe to be around, Miss Cheng. I bet the women aren’t either.”

  As if Charlie could do anything against them.

  No, that was uncharitable. “Thank you. Really. But I’m sure I’ll be fine. You get yourself on your bus or I’ll have to drive you all the way home.”

  She made a shooing gesture to Charlie and after another moment’s hesitation he turned, jogged up the alley to the street and headed for the bus station. She followed at a walk because trying to jog in heels this high was ridiculous. Plus she’d probably trip and break an ankle. An added embarrassment she did not want with those people, with him, behind her.

  Maybe in an immediate emergency they’d actually move to action. Or they might just shout the name of a private investigator to her.

  Not fair.

  Shaking her head, she huffed out a laugh at herself. She was in all sorts of a mood this evening. And who would blame her? But being temperamental wasn’t going to convince anyone to help her, and she needed help. She’d take every moment of frustration and rage and swallow it if it could get An-mei the help she needed faster. What Maylin had to do was be constructive, figure out next steps. There was always something else to be tried. Somehow.

  And sometimes it seemed like every street in downtown Seattle was uphill. So no one would judge her if she took a breather up at the top of the alley and maybe stood at the corner a minute longer than necessary. If anyone did, she’d blame it on the crosswalk signal changing sooner than she thought she could cross.

  Honestly, she needed to build up better cardio.

  Screeching broke through her thoughts, the sounds of tires on wet pavement. She turned to her left and instinctively threw up her arm against the glare of insanely bright headlights.

  “Down!”

  A wall slammed into her left side, taking her to the ground and rolling with her until what was left of the air in her lungs was forced out in a whoosh as they hit the side of the building.

  How? How had they rolled away from the street? And...what...?

  Tires peeled.

  “Are you okay? Hey!” The words boomed in her head from far away, like someone shouting through a fog.

  Too many lights swam across her vision, images burned on her retinas blending with the streetlamps overhead. Her throat contracted and her lungs burned.

  Breathe.

  She gasped and cool air rushed in, clearing away some of the fog.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Take another breath nice and slow. Slow.” Strong hands patted her down, touched her with gentle purpose. “Does anything hurt? Your neck, your head?”

  “The way you took her down, it’s amazing her skull isn’t splattered all over the sidewalk.” Another man’s voice floated over from some distance away. Or was it a shock thing?

  Maybe she was in shock.

  Did people’s feet get cold at times like this? Only her left one.

  “Your left foot is colder because you lost a shoe when I shoved you out of the way.” A thread of amusement ran through the original speaker’s voice. She liked the sound of it. Kind humor, like what she heard in his words, was the sign of a good man. “I’m going to help you to a sitting position, but if anything hurts at all, you let me know right away and we’re laying you back down. Understood?”

  “Yes.” She said it out loud on purpose, because she was pretty sure she’d been talking out loud anyway so it’d be good to know if she could do it when she actually meant to.

  The same big hands she’d taken note of before took hold of her, one sliding under her neck to give her support as she came up to a sitting position.

  “Slow,” her caretaker admonished.

  His choice of speeds was frustrating.

  “Had to be a DUI.” The owner of the other voice had returned. “Driver ran up one curb and down the other all the rest of the way down the street. Got a couple of letters off the license plate. Lizzy and Victoria are securing the immediate area and calling it in to 911. Ambulance en route.”

  She turned her head to peer up. Blond hair, tanned skin, suit. One of the private security guys, the one who’d been snitching fried shrimp all night. She remembered Charlie coming to her nervous about whether to tell the guy the food was for the guests, but she’d laughed it off and made sure they kept the supply of that dish hot and ready. Fried shrimp were always popular anyway. Then what the man had said caught up to her.

  “No ambulance. Really. I’m not hurt.” And she didn’t need to spend all night in the emergency room for a couple of scrapes and bruises. She hated hospitals with a passion.

  “They’re on their way.” Her rescuer didn’t leave room for argument. “They can look you over first, then you can decide.”

  His now authoritative tone, colder and clipped, sounded much more familiar than she’d initially thought. She peeked up at him through the escaped strands of her probably insanely messed-up hair.

  Of course. She always had a special kind of ironic luck. The very man who wouldn’t help her earlier was now kneeling beside her, shielding her from the night breeze with an arm around her shoulders.

  “By the way, Cinderella, one of my teammates found your shoe. Victoria says shoes this expensive matter to a lady.” The other man held it out to her. “Sorry, but I think it was a casualty. My name’s Marc and this is Gabe, but I gather you two already met earlier. Lizzy and Victoria are sweeping the area to see if there’s any security cameras we can mention to the police for possible footage of the car.”

  Fantastic. She reached to take her shoe, planning to mourn the heel hanging by a few stitches later, but Gabe took it instead.

  “Hey, I could get that fixed.” She hoped.

  Gabe raised an eyebrow and tucked the shoe, careful of the barely attached heel, into his suit pocket. Most guys like him left the freaking temporary stitches in the pockets so nothing could go into those. “Your purse isn’t big enough for it. I’ll hold on to it until the medics get here and look you over.”

  What was she supposed to do, leave her other shoe on? Maybe he’d pocket that one too.

  “No serious injuries. I’m sure. Just some scrapes and bruises, probably.” She tried to return his intense gaze with an assertive one of her own. “And my name is Maylin.”

  He might have saved her—and she was thankful—but as knights in shining armor went, he lacked any sort of courtly charm. Not a big deal. No need for princesses or fairy tales here. Those had been An-mei’s favorite stories, not hers.

  “Pretty sure your head hit the pavement when I took you down.” A pang of reg
ret there, she was sure of it. “We should get you checked for a concussion.”

  She thought about how they went to the ground and the strength it must have taken for him to roll both of them away from the street. Admittedly, his size probably helped him. He had a lot of height and weight on her. But he and his colleagues had been several yards behind her, even if they had been catching up to her on the way out of the alley. How fast was this man?

  Sirens. The ambulance, most likely. And if she didn’t string her thoughts together more coherently, they might decide she really did need to go to the emergency room.

  “I’m also not sure that was a DUI, so why don’t you tell me more about your missing person and why someone might not want you to find her?”

  She stared at him wide-eyed and took in the grave expression, sharp eyes hidden in shadow, and the angle of his jaw. Tall, dark and seriously impressive as this man was, why did he believe her now?

  His colleague crouched down on the other side of her. “What are you saying, Gabe?”

  “I’m saying I’m fucking sure as hell that car was idling on the street. It was waiting for her.”

  Chapter Two

  “You didn’t have to see me all the way home. Honestly. The only reason I drove my car tonight was because of all the extra catering stuff I wanted to bring with me. Otherwise, I could have walked.”

  Gabe followed her with an armload of cooking gear in the early morning hours before dawn. None of it looked like anything he’d ever used in a kitchen, and he did know how to cook. If she’d brought all this in the first place, he wasn’t sure how she’d managed to carry it all and still see over it to walk. In hot stiletto heels no less. One of which was poking a hole in his side, still in his jacket pocket. Thing could’ve been a murder weapon.

  “I figure it’s the least I could do since I did give you a bump to the head.” And didn’t he just feel like shit about that. Mostly because she hadn’t gotten mad at him in any way and it’d even been a scuffle getting her to let him carry the damned box. Not to mention how it’d taken him, his team and the paramedics combined to convince her to be seen by a doctor. She was a trooper, even after hours in the emergency room stressed and obviously not wanting to be there. “Besides, like you said earlier, I’m one of the best—personal security, private military contractor, pack mule.”

  The laugh he hoped for wasn’t forthcoming, but she did glance back with a soft smile on her face. Ah well, he wasn’t much of a comedian anyway. Actually, he was shit for small talk.

  He wondered if she’d realized she’d clung to him on the ride there in the ambulance or if she’d tucked herself against him instinctively as she came down from the shock. The woman wouldn’t have gone at all if he and Marc hadn’t backed up the paramedics with the recommendation to be checked over.

  He hadn’t minded her soft little form pressed against his side, though. It’d been reassuring. She’d come pretty close to turning into road pizza and he was shouldering some guilt over not agreeing to listen to her in the first place.

  His stomach churned as he considered it, another reason why he’d come home with her. A hunch. Anyone who’d known to wait for her on the street after the event would probably know other things about her too, like where she lived.

  “A mild concussion is a small price to pay since things would’ve been a lot worse if you hadn’t gotten me out of the way.” Maylin jiggled her key in the deadbolt before succeeding in turning it, then struggled similarly with the doorknob.

  Deadbolt and lock on the doorknob. Good. Too many people were complacent in upscale apartment buildings like this one. Considering the location and the security, actual issues inside the building were most likely unusual, but the parking garage probably had its share of incidents. No live security and not enough camera coverage.

  “Might want to talk to the concierge down in the lobby about those locks. Maybe you need a new key made up.” She was more aware of her surroundings than most civilians he’d met, but a person could never be too careful.

  “Key usually works fine. I’ve never had to fudge with it before. Not even a little.” Fine lines had formed between her brows when she turned to look at him and weariness showed in the smudges under her eyes. His mood darkened at the sight of them and a protective surge washed over him. She should get some rest, but he was about to make her night even longer.

  “Let me go in first.” He set the box down in the hallway and took his sidearm from its holster.

  She opened her mouth to protest, but fell silent under his glare. Good. They could argue about it after he made sure there was nothing to worry about.

  As he entered the apartment, he visually confirmed the main living area was clear. The place was neat. Pillows artfully arranged on a modern-style couch and throw blankets neatly piled within reach. Several. Unless she liked to build forts in her spare time, he couldn’t imagine why she’d need so many.

  Nothing looked disturbed. Maylin seemed to be in the habit of leaving at least one light on while she was away. He’d confirm with her later. Either way, it gave him enough to see by.

  Stepping away from the entry wall in measured steps, he paused between each to scan the area inside the apartment from floor to ceiling before proceeding further around the corner in a wide arc. The technique was referred to as “pieing the corner” and it was a strongly ingrained survival habit to negotiate turning any corner. It gave him the best chance to spot a threat and take action accordingly. In this case though, he found nothing. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to worry about. There was something off about this place.

  The entire apartment was dead silent. Either it was empty or her intruder was very good at hiding.

  As soon as he had a clear line of sight down the hallway he advanced past the breakfast area and kitchen, careful to check reflections in the glass to give him added visuals behind the counter.

  Finally, he cleared the bedroom. Again, the room was tidy, with no obvious sign of search or invasion. She seemed to like a whole hell of a lot of pillows on her bed too. He wasn’t sure there was even room for her to sleep on there.

  An image of her burrowed in her pillows, curled up and sleeping, popped into his mind.

  Banishing it immediately, he knocked a few to the floor to be sure there weren’t any unpleasant surprises hidden among them. Not the time to be distracted.

  Nothing seemed to be out of place, so he lowered his weapon and returned to where Maylin waited for him at the door, her phone in hand. Smart girl.

  He lifted his finger to his lips and motioned for her to come inside. He retrieved her box of cooking supplies too and set it on the counter in the kitchen before conducting a second sweep. This time he checked every appliance, every light fixture.

  Well, damn.

  He could take her out into the hallway but he didn’t want to remain exposed for longer than necessary. Once they left the apartment—and he intended to be sure she left with him—he’d want to be on the move immediately.

  She was still standing in her entryway, pale and swaying on her feet. He stepped close to her, wrapped his arms around her. Her shoulders and back remained stiff in his embrace for a minute before she relaxed a fraction. He lowered his head to whisper into her ear. “Your apartment’s been bugged. Do you have any family in the city?”

  She shook her head, her face brushing into the hollow at his shoulder. A sense of purpose solidified. Protect. Defend. It’d started when he’d recognized the threat earlier and dove to get her out of harm’s way. It’d only intensified since.

  He wasn’t about to leave her here.

  He kept his voice low, his lips brushing her hair as he gave her his next set of instructions. “We’re going to go into your bedroom. I want you to pack a bag with what you need for a couple of days.”

  Her head tilted up, her forehead bump
ing his chin and knocking his teeth together. “Where?”

  Good thing she’d matched his whisper, but ouch, she had a hard skull. “I’m taking you anywhere but here. We’ll figure out next steps after we get to your car and get out of the area.”

  “But...”

  “There’s too many red flags here. Even if you go to a hotel for a night, you can’t stay at one indefinitely. Too accessible.” He tightened his arms around her to stop her argument. “You are not safe and I want to know why. We can talk more about it on the drive.”

  Hours ago he hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her. Now, rage burned through him as he held her trembling form against his chest. Almost flattened by a not-so-drunk driver and the privacy of her home violated. Someone was investing a lot of effort into hurting her and it didn’t make sense.

  Puzzle pieces were floating around them, and no private investigator had the means to help her fit them together before somebody took her out of the game.

  Thing was, what was anyone like her doing caught up in any kind of game?

  She raised her hand and slid it between them, flat against his chest. He thought she was going to push him away, and loosened his arms so she could step out of his hold if she wanted to. But her hand fisted in his shirt instead and she pressed her face into him. A moment later, hot tears seeped through the fabric to his skin.

  “It’s okay.” He murmured the reassurance, not sure she even absorbed what he was saying. “I’ll help you.”

  A promise. It wasn’t a small thing he was giving her, whether she understood or not. What mattered was he recognized it for what it was. It’d been a long time since he’d been willing to make one like this. He intended to see it through. Maybe he’d think about why he was doing it later.

  Hopefully, this wouldn’t bite him in the ass the way his last mission had. That one had turned him bitter on the human condition in general.

  Her shudders were the only sign of her being upset. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, hoping it was comforting. Crying women generally weren’t his thing—he avoided them like the plague—but he couldn’t bear to put her at arm’s length. Not when she obviously had no support anywhere nearby.