Page 73 of Under Fire

“Come here, little kitty.”

“No!” she screamed as he jumped onto her.

Overpowered, she realized exactly was he was doing as he intently gripped beneath her ears, behind her jaw. The pressure increasing, the bloodflow to her brain decreasing, she felt it coming on. He was expertly putting her out.

The last thing she remembered was realizing that she was never, ever going to get a residency in radiology.

* * * *

Alisa woke up under a blanket, a warm ocean breeze wafting her hair. Coming to, she realized she was at the top of a dune overlooking a beach and aching all over. Instinctively, she grasped at her clothing, making sure it was all still on her body. It was.

Panting in sheer panic, she sat up, trying to understand where the hell she was, what time it was and what the hell had happened to her. Surprisingly, she felt…largely unviolated. They hadn’t hurt her—yet.

She gazed down the beach, unwilling to recognize it for what it was. Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what was happening. And if her fears were correct, she was out of LA.

And she was far away from any help.

No one could save her.

Letting out a long, desperate breath, she closed her eyes, wondering what the hell to do, if Maria had called Warren for help or if she’d ever see him again. Now, more than ever, she needed him. She let her tongue dash out across her lip, thinking of him—thinking about how he’d kissed her, of how he’d touched her. She already missed him like hell.

“Looks good on you, the ring,” someone said from above.

She opened her eyes to find Dean farther up the dune. He offered her a hand.

“It’s been too long,” he said, a lock of his dark hair dropping onto his brow over his black sunglasses. “Alisa.”

Pushing back in the sand, she fumbled her way up into a seated position, her eyes darting around the deserted beach, desperately looking for—

“Looking for someone?” Dean challenged, turning his head as he adjusted his leather jacket—his neck tattoo stretching as he twisted.

She shook her head, her eyes wide open, trying to pretend everything was okay.

But it wasn’t.

He crossed his arms, settling into a chilling stance as he stared her down.

“I’d ask you if something was wrong with your phone, but I know that’s not the case. I know you’ve been ignoring me. I know you’ve been trying to run.”

“Dean,” Alisa said, and she tried to push herself up and farther away. Finally, up on her feet, she saw no one at all on the beach that could help.

Dean pulled down his dark sunglasses to get a better look at her, his smirk telling her everything. It was like the cat that got the mouse. Alisa knew what was going to happen next. His anger lingered only one shade under the surface. She knew that anger. Instinctively, she recoiled.

“Where are you going?” he asked, watching her shuffle back from him, creating space between them. “We’re just getting started.”

“Dean, you don’t understand,” she whispered as she stumbled backward.

But he followed, quick and fast. He grabbed her, heaving her closer to him, grinning down on her.

“I think I understand well enough. It’s time we went over the terms of our deal once again.”

“What do you want from me?” she sputtered anxiously. “What have you ever wanted from me?”

“Come on. You know the answer. Youare what I want.”

He ran his hand, partially blackened from the engine grease off his motorcycle, up her throat.

She trembled in pure fear, recognizing that unstable look in his eyes. He was a man who killed people—but not like Warren. Dean killed people for very different reasons.

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