How to Save A Life

Chapter 5

Marli's heart galloped wildly in her chest. She gave a choked gasp, instinctively dug her fingers into the arms and tried to pry them off her. She opened her mouth, tried to scream as loud as she could, raw sound scraping over her throat as she struggled furiously against the power of his restraining arms. Oh, Jesus, no, no! She couldn't breathe. Her keys were in her hand, but she couldn't get them into position to use them. She was going to die. Or was he going to rape her? Oh, God, this could not be happening.

"Here," she squawked. "My purse..." If he wanted money, he could have money. But he knocked the purse to the ground without releasing her and dragged her toward the stairwell.

You weren't supposed to fight. You were just supposed to give them the money. But he didn't want money. Oh, God.

She was not going to die without a fight. Krista had fought.

She tried to dig her heels into the concrete, but they just scraped across it as he pulled her. A strangled cry escaped her. The man grunted as he tried to avoid her flailing arms and kicking feet, but he was stronger than she was. He said nothing, just yanked at her. Pain seared from her shoulder down her arm, and she cried out again. She fought harder, with frantic energy, crying out with pain and effort and fear.

"Hey!"

Someone else was there. Was he there to help her--or to help the mugger?

An even bigger man dragged the attacker off her, and with an impressive swing, crunched the guy's jaw. Her attacker staggered back a step, making a rough sound. The other man drew back to hit again. The mugger swung an arm up, broke the other's grip on his jacket, turned and fled, his uneven footsteps echoing in the garage.

"Marli, are you okay?" Trey stood in front of her.

She gasped for breath, standing there in stunned disbelief.

"Should I go after him?"

She shook her head. Yes. No. God. The adrenaline shooting through her veins made her weak and dizzy.

He grabbed her shoulders. "Marli? Did he hurt you?"

She just kept staring, wide-eyed, a quivering mass of nerves, everything dark and twirling around her.

"I'm..." Her knees started to buckle, and Trey caught her.

"Shit, Marli." He held her up against his big, warm body. "Where are you hurt? Should I take you to the hospital?" One handed lifted her chin to see her face. "Marli! Talk to me."

"I'm not hurt," she managed to mumble. "I'm...okay."

She wasn't okay. She was a mess. Her arm throbbed, her stomach tossed and she thought she might throw up or pass out. She put a hand to her mouth. Her stomach heaved and her mouth filled with saliva.

"Jesus." He turned her away from him, held her hips as she bent over and retched painfully, empting her stomach onto the concrete floor of the garage.

She felt him fumbling, then he had a cell phone and was calling the police.

"Don't even bother," she said weakly, eyes closed against the sight of her vomit on the floor, still bent over. "They won't do anything." She rubbed cold, sweaty palms over her face.

Yes, they will." She listened to him report the incident in a calm, professional tone. Then he handed to phone to her. "You're going to have to talk to them. They need details from you that I don't know. Your last name, address..."

She took the phone, and somehow he was handing her a crumpled tissue he'd pulled from his jacket pocket. She wiped first her eyes, wet from watering while she'd heaved her guts out, then her mouth. She spoke to the police, trying to remember her own name and address.

When she was done, she carefully flipped his phone closed and handed it back to him.

"I have to go in tomorrow to make a statement," she said. "I told you not to bother. It was the same last night."

"What happened last night?" he asked sharply.

She pushed her hair back wearily. "I want to go home," she said, her voice small and despicably quavery.

"I'll take you home." His voice was rough. "Where's your car?"

She pointed to her Sebring convertible. "I almost made it," she said sadly, letting him lead her to the car. "I was so afraid..."

He tried to put her in the passenger seat, but she resisted. "No! You're not coming with me."

"Yes, I am."

This time he wasn't letting her push him away. It should have scared her, but instead she wanted to let him take charge, let him look after her.

"No," she protested again, this time more weakly. "I can't go home with a stranger. I don't even know you."

"Marli, I'm a cop. Some guy just jumped you. I'm coming with you."

She stared into his eyes. How did she know he was really a cop? But the intensity and power of his gaze comforted her. She swallowed hard, still shaking. For a long moment, thoughts ran through her head, one crazy idea chasing another until finally she knew she had to listen to her instincts. While her brain kept saying no, for a million rational reasons, her heart was telling her this man was solid and trustworthy.

"Okay." She slumped into the passenger seat. When he went around and got into the driver's seat, he leaned over and did her seatbelt up for her. Then he adjusted the driver's seat, pushing it back as far as it would go to allow for his long legs.

When he got to the exit, the gate was up and the parking lot attendant wasn't there. Trey barely slowed to leave, and Marli wasn't going to remind him that they were supposed to pay.

She huddled in the seat, shivering, her insides cold and shaking. Trey kept glancing at her, his brows lowered over his deep-set eyes, giving him a powerfully intimidating look. She managed to choke out directions to her home, and he pulled into the driveway moments later.

When they walked in, the alarm system she'd just had installed hours ago started beeping and she stared helplessly at the control panel. For the life of her, she could not remember the code. She glanced at Trey, confused.

"The code, Marli? The code?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She nodded, biting her lip. "I can't remember it," she whispered. "Um..." She punched in a number, her fingers trembling so badly she missed the number. The beeping continued, making her shake even harder. "Shit." She tried again. This time, the beeping stopped and she fell against the wall, weak with relief.

"Christ, Marli." Trey kicked the door shut behind them, scooped her up and carried her into the house.

"Lock the door," she said, teeth chattering, as he lowered her onto the couch.

He obediently turned around and went back to lock the door and the deadbolt.

"And put the alarm on again," she called out to him. She heard him stop, hoping he knew which button, then he appeared around the corner.

He sat down on the couch beside her and pulled her into his arms. They sat like that for a long time, while he cuddled her and stroked her hair. She swallowed hard through a tight throat, eyes stinging, breathing tightly. But then, hot and helpless tears overflowed and, to her shame, she found herself sobbing into Trey's shoulder. He held her, pressed his cheek against her hair, letting her cry, big heaving sobs that left her exhausted, drained.

He found her box of tissues on the end table and handed her some so she could mop herself up. She sat up, not wanting to look at him. She could imagine what a mess she was. She was so deeply embarrassed to have cried in front of him. She never cried. Only in front of Krista. She closed her eyes against the wave of pain that thought brought.

"What happened last night, Marli?"

"That smoke break was a little long, there, Sam." Laura scowled at him.

He smiled. "Sorry, Laura. I tried to squeeze in two."

"What happened to your face?" She looked closer at him, but he waved her away.

"I was rushing back and I opened the door right into my chin," he told her. "I'm fine."

"Okay," she said, looking doubtfully at him. "Get back to work."

He saluted her and winked, and she gave him a reluctant smile.

Women. They were so stupid; he could get them to do anything.

When her back was turned, his smile disappeared. Fuck! Nothing was going right for him lately. He slammed a hand against the wall, frustration and anger simmering inside him. Once again, she'd gotten away from him. He didn't know who the hell the bastard was who'd jumped him from behind, but he was betting it was that bozo who'd been all over her last night.

He cursed again under his breath as he went back to work. But at least he knew where she lived. Earlier today, before he'd started work, he'd gone by her place, but the damn cops had been there, so he'd just kept going. Soon as he finished work, he'd head over there again. This time he'd use the back door.