Page 8 of Risk It All
“It’s okay.” With a sigh, she sat back against the vinyl seat. She didn’t know if it was vomiting her entire story and all her worries at him, or if it was relief from not having to take him back to jail, but she felt lighter than she had in weeks. “I would’ve felt too guilty anyway. I probably couldn’t have gone through with it.”
His snort sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. “You’re really not good at fieldwork, are you?”
“No.” She shrugged. Even though she hated failing at something, she couldn’t argue with the truth. “I want to be a kindergarten teacher. I’m working on my education degree—slowly, but I’ll finish it eventually. Bounty hunting is not my calling.”
Something shifted in his expression as he stared at her, and he rubbed at his temple again.
“Does your head hurt?” She dug in her purse and pulled out a travel-size bottle of ibuprofen. When she offered it to him, his gaze flicked from the painkillers back to her face. She wasn’t sure how to read his odd look, so she just waited.
“I’m okay.” He wrapped his fingers around hers in order to gently move her hand back toward her purse. Her brain immediately blanked at the contact. All she could think about was how huge and warm and comforting his hand felt. “You need to take care of yourself. If you keep chasing guys like Abbott—and me—you’re going to get yourself killed.”
For some reason, his concern and careful touch made it hard to hold his gaze without blushing. Looking away, she was starting to respond when her gaze caught on the profile of the very man she’d come to Dutch’s to find. Geoffrey Abbott worked his way through the crowd, clearly intent on finding someone. Thesomeoneturned out to be a woman who looked to be in her early forties, with light-brown hair, a wide, mobile mouth, and strong features that came together into a striking whole. There was something familiar about her, and Cara racked her brain for where she’d seen the woman before.
The two had an intense, low-voiced discussion before Abbott turned away abruptly, his mouth pinched with anger. As intently as he’d made his way into the bar, he now worked his way toward the exit. The woman watched him go. As soon as Cara saw her face in profile, it clicked—that was the woman Kavenski had met.
Cara gently tugged free, set the painkillers next to his untouched drink, and slid out of the booth. Even though Kavenski had warned her about going after Abbott, there wasn’t any other solution. Just because an attractive skip held her hand very gently and told her to do something didn’t mean she should throw her family’s future away. She couldn’t let Abbott leave without at least getting a plate number. It’d be simple and danger-free, and might give her the information she needed to decide whether she should drop the case.
“What are you doing?”
Cara gave him a smile. “Nothing dangerous. Thanks for letting me sit with you.”
She turned away and slipped through the crowd, keeping her eye on the back of Abbott’s head, thankful that he was taller than most of the other bar patrons. By the time she’d worked her way to the door and stepped outside, he was nowhere in sight. She paused, waiting for one of the parked cars to start, hoping that he hadn’t parked in the lot across the street or, even worse, walked to Dutch’s.
Glancing at the bouncer, she saw that he was watching her grimly. “I didn’t blow up anything,” she said.
Before he could respond, she saw red brake lights illuminate a car in the far corner of the parking lot.Jackpot!It was too far away to see the plate, so Cara hurried across the lot. He was already backing out of his spot, and she moved a little faster, not wanting to attract attention by running but also unwilling to miss her chance.
The back end of his car drew closer as he reversed, and she squinted at the license plate. He started to pull forward toward the lot exit, moving the car away from her, and she trotted forward, hoping to catch the plate number as he paused before turning onto the street.
A loud squeal of tires behind her made her spin around, startled. Bright headlights blinded her as an engine revved. A car was coming at her—fast.Too fast. She dodged to the side, but the lights followed, steering toward her as if they were aiming for her. Pivoting in the other direction, she ran toward the row of parked cars, hoping they’d at least take the brunt of the impact, but a glance over her shoulder showed that it was already too late.
The car was going to run her down.
She lunged to the side, knowing it was futile but needing to try to save herself anyway. When the impact came, it was from the wrong direction. She flew to the side as the car swerved past with an angry roar, her body landing with enough jolt to force the air from her lungs. For a long moment, she lay still, trying to figure out why she didn’t hurt. Was she in shock? Paralyzed? Dead?
The ground moved beneath her, bringing her out of her daze with a snap. She pushed to her hands and knees, struggling to balance on the lumpy surface, until a grunt made her freeze. She stared at the man beneath her. Tires squealed loudly, making her jolt and turn her head, frantically searching for the vehicle that had tried to run her down. The engine roared as the car peeled away, fishtailing as it turned onto the street. The rumble quickly faded as her attempted murderer raced off, and Cara refocused on the man lying warm and unfairly muscular under her.
“Kavenski?” Sliding off him to land on the asphalt, she blinked several times, trying to make sense of how her night had ended up like this. He turned with her, not releasing her as he ran his hands over her arms, checking for injuries. His gaze was sharp as he looked her over, and his uncharacteristic worry snapped her back to the reality of what had just happened. “Henry Kavenski, did you just save me from death by speeding car?”
He didn’t answer, checking her over yet again before climbing to his feet.
Noticing his almost imperceptible wince, Cara felt her stomach twist with worry. He’d taken the full force of their combined fall by putting his body between her and the asphalt.
“Are you okay?” she asked. It took her a moment to notice that he’d extended a hand to help her stand. She accepted it, allowing him to haul her to her feet, but not taking her eyes off him as she scanned him for injuries. He had to have a nasty case of road rash at the very least. “Let me see your back.”
When she reached for his shirt, intending to pull it up and examine the damage, he twitched away from her, shifting just out of reach. The move reminded her of just how invasive she was being. Even if her motives were well intentioned, even if she’d spilled her entire life story to him not five minutes ago, they were still mostly strangers, and she didn’t blame him for not wanting her to start poking at him.
“Sorry.” Dropping her hand, she made a self-deprecating face. “That was rude of me. Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
“No.” Every time she heard him speak, she was reminded how gorgeous his voice was. “Didn’t Ijustwarn you about messing with Abbott?”
Her shoulders drew back at the criticism. “I was just going to get his plate number. Besides,hewasn’t the one who tried to kill us.” She turned to look at the now-empty street bordering the lot. “I don’t suppose you got a look at the license?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Sorry.” The word came out thick with sarcasm. “Didn’t get a chance. I was a little busysavingyourlife.”
“I do appreciate that, thank you.” Still, it would’ve been nice if he’d multitasked just a bit. Even if he’d only gotten a number or two, it would’ve given them a place to start. Except for the two of them, the parking lot was deserted. Even the bouncer must’ve gone inside. In all of the excitement, Abbott had slipped away as well, so there was nothing to show for her brush with death except a sore left knee and whatever injuries Kavenski was ignoring.
She sighed and started to limp back toward the bar.
