Page 63 of Rival for Rent

I shouted instead—yelling for him to stay down, that the cops were on their way, that he’d been caught. Anything to rattle him. If I woke the neighbors or Kai, even better. More witnesses.

I’d just gotten his wrists behind his back, one hand already on the cuffs, when something slammed into the back of my head.

I went sprawling forward, losing my grip. Pain exploded across my skull. Then a kick hit my lower back. Hands grabbed at my shoulders, yanking me away from the guy I’d tackled.

I tried to roll, to see who was attacking, thinking maybe—god willing—it was the cops.

But no. Two more figures. Black-clad. Masked. I barely got my mouth open to ask what the fuck was going on when a fist crashed into my face.

My head snapped back. The guy I’d tackled scrambled to his feet while the other two closed in. They kicked and punched, all of them. My arms flailed, trying to shield myself, push up, get to my feet, but I couldn’t. Every inch of me screamed in pain. I had no idea how long it went on. Thirty seconds? Thirty minutes?

I was close to blacking out.

I reached for my pocket, feeling with my fingers for my last-ditch option. Then I lunged once more, made a final effort to touch the original guy’s foot. My fingers grazed the bottom of his shoe as he lifted it to kick me again.

Before he could, another punch caught me across the face, and everything faded to blackness.

14

KAI

Aloud, keening noise jolted me awake at six a.m., and I sat bolt upright in bed, hand flailing out to smash at my alarm clock. I hit the off button, but the sound didn’t stop. I hit it again. And again. My hand slammed down four more times before I realized the noise wasn’t coming from the clock.

It was a siren, and it was coming from outside my window.

My stomach dropped. Fear gripped my chest with its talons. Something bad had happened.

“Mason?” I called out, throwing the covers back. “Mason, are you inside?”

No answer.

I couldn’t breathe. My guts twisted. Something bad had happened to him.

Or to your stalker,I tried telling myself.Could be that.

But I knew. Somehow, I knew Mason was in trouble.

I was out of my room in a flash, Bella right behind me. I checked the guest room, the bathroom, flew downstairs, and tore through the entire main floor. My heart pounded as I ran to the front door and yanked it open.

An ambulance was halfway down the block, lights flashing, pulling away.

“Wait!” I shouted, sprinting after it. “Wait, Mason! Are you in there? Are you okay?”

If the driver noticed the lunatic in pajamas chasing them with a dog, they didn’t stop. God, I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt. I turned back towards the house—and saw Maud Van Houten standing on her front stoop.

“Maud,” I said, jogging over to her. “Did they—was there—did you see what happened?”

One glance at the rental car parked in front of my house confirmed what I already feared. It was empty. Mason was gone.

“Oh yes,” Maud said. “I’m the one who called 911.”

“911?!” I yelped. “What happened?”

“Well, I came out to get the morning paper, and I saw your young man lying on the sidewalk, right where you’re standing.”

She pointed down. I followed her finger and saw it—blood spatters on the cement. My gaze shifted to the yard. More blood on the walkway leading up to the steps and—Jesus. Was that a rat?

A dead fucking rat was sprawled in the grass, flies already buzzing around it. My chest tightened like someone had cinched it with wire. I looked back at Maud.

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