Page 78 of Crossing Paths
Her stomach lurched, and she rolled her head to the side in case she was finally able to vomit. Her heart immediately plummeted when she saw they were just steps away from Leifsen’s car. “Daaaash!” This time, she almost managed to yell. “I need a rescuuuue.”
She decided she wasn’t even going to try to pretend shewasn’t a damsel in distress. No, she was fully tied to the railroad tracks as Leifsen curled his nonexistent mustache. After all, what good was a very strong boyfriend who knew how to fight if he couldn’t rescue her once in a while? Even as the thoughts played out in her head, a heavy ball of dread collected in her belly. A rescue would be wonderful, but it was looking less and less likely the closer they got to Mr. and Mrs. Leifsen’s 1999 green Toyota Corolla.
Her teeth started chattering as he stopped next to the car and shifted her weight. Maybe if he put her down to open the door, she could belly crawl away or even underneath the car. Anything to delay her kidnapping long enough for the drug to wear off a little more.
Instead of setting her on her feet though, he managed to open the driver’s door without relinquishing his hold. Crouching, he fiddled with something on the floorboard. She heard a heavy click before he straightened, and her skin went clammy.
She knew what that sound was. He’d opened the trunk.
Twisting and flailing as wildly as her uncoordinated body could manage, she put up a desperate final attempt to save herself. “Not the trunk! Not the trunk!” The plea echoed loudly in her head, but she didn’t know if she’d managed to say the words out loud. Despite everything she was doing, his slow, methodical steps continued to move to the rear of the car and its gaping black trunk.
“Norah!”
The roar echoed through her head and the air around her. Leifsen stiffened, letting her know it wasn’t just a figment ofher drugged imagination. Then she was falling for what felt like forever before she hit the pavement with a thump. She lay still for a long moment, feeling the impact of the hard surface vibrate through her, not even hurting so much as stunning her into stillness.
The sound of a scuffle—grunts and smacks of knuckles on flesh and shouts and growls that made her smile because they sounded just like Dash—seemed close but still remote. A pebble dislodged by someone’s skidding boot flew in the air before it stung her cheek. The tiny pain was sharp enough to remind her that she needed to move. She couldn’t just lie there until Leifsen picked her up and stuffed her in his truck.
Moving was incredibly hard though. It felt like she had to force each muscle to work with the others to drag her inch by inch across the pavement. Her fingertips bumped something—a tire. That was good. She needed to get under the car, and that meant she was close. Pushing herself forward with her knees and elbows, she managed to get her head and shoulders under the Toyota before hands caught her waist.
She kicked out, more from muscle memory and reflex than from actually directing it. Her foot connected with something, and she heard a grunt. The sound made her go still. She knew that grunt.
“Dash?” Her voice shook as she told herself not to hope, not to be an idiot. She needed to get under the car, not have audio hallucinations. She couldn’t make herself move a muscle though. Not until she knew if Dash was there.
The hands around her waist tightened, lifting her slightlybefore pulling her clear of the car. Part of her wanted to wail that all her slow, hard, painful work was for nothing, but another, larger part recognized those huge hands and that effortless strength.
Once she was out from under the car, he rolled her over. She stared at the man towering over her, backlit by a streetlight that made his silhouette look even larger.
“Dash…” She could still hardly let herself believe he was there. “You look like Thor.”
That choked bark of a laugh though…that was all Dash. It wasn’t until he lifted her up and cradled her against his chest and she smelled his slightly sweaty but so wonderfully familiar scent that she knew for sure. Her arms clumsily tangled around his neck.
“Thanks for coming to find me.” Her voice was still slurred, but her thoughts were slightly clearer. “I owe you a rescue.”
Wrapping those thick arms around her, he pressed his face into the spot where her shoulder and neck met. Squeezing her tightly but ever so gently, like he was holding a precious egg, he said right against her skin, “Let’s never do this again.”
“Deal.” Even in her semi-lucid state, that seemed like a no-brainer. She could’ve stayed locked against him forever, but then she remembered they weren’t alone in the alley. Pulling back a little so she could peer over his shoulder, she asked, “Did you kill him?”
“No.” He sounded a bit put out by this. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know if you’d get the bounty if he was dead.”
As fuzzy and tangled as her thoughts were, she honestlydidn’t know the answer to that at the moment, but she made a vague mental note to check later. It seemed like something she should know—and probably Dash should too if he was going to continue to be her boyfriend and regular rescuer.
With a heavy sigh that blew hot breath across her neck, Dash released her, although he kept his hands on her arms as he looked into her eyes. “Can you stand here for a second?”
She honestly wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to cause any more problems for Dash that night, so she said, “Sure.”
As if he doubted her answer, he slowly released her but kept his hands close as if to grab her if she started to drop. Norah concentrated on standing upright without swaying, and she managed to do an adequate enough job that Dash took a step back, although he was frowning heavily.
While she watched, he grabbed the limp shape she recognized as Leifsen’s unconscious form, and she took a brief but fierce pleasure in how helpless he looked. Dragging Leifsen across the pavement to the car, Dash crouched and got a good grip on the other man. With a grunt, he lifted Leifsen and dumped him into the still-open trunk. He slammed the trunk with more force than really necessary, but Norah didn’t begrudge him the satisfaction he obviously got from locking her would-be kidnapper in his own trunk.
Dash returned to her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side. It was a relief to lean into him and not have to concentrate on balancing on her own feet anymore. He pulled out his phone with his free hand, tapping at the screen with his thumb.
“Who’re you calling?” The slur was back, worse than ever, and Norah wondered if that was because she was safe, so panic wasn’t fighting the effects of the drug anymore.
“Dispatch. We need a deputy.”
“Why not the coppers?” She giggled at the term, feeling like a mobster from the thirties. “The po-po?”
“I’ll ask for them too.” His voice sounded amused, and she liked that she made him happy. “The deputy’ll pick up your skip.”
