The Distraction (23 page)

I
glanced in the rearview mirror, but I didn't need to see his face to know who had broken into my car.

“Mr. Reznik,” I said, trying to control my voice from shaking. “It's a little late for a parole visit, isn't it?”

I watched in the mirror as he stroked his goatee with his middle finger and thumb. It was dark outside, and he'd chosen to leave the sunglasses behind, but his eyes were hidden from view by the shadows.

“I work late hours,” he said, inhaling audibly. “It's the best time to catch people breaking the rules.”

From below my elbow came a scratching sound, and when I looked down I saw the silver barrel of a gun, glinting off the lights outside. After a moment, he withdrew the weapon, and pressed it into the back of my seat. I could feel the hard knob poking against the middle of my back.

I glanced to the passenger seat where my purse was. Inside was my cell, and the burner phone as well. It seemed stupid keeping them both in the same place now. If I could only reach one of them, I could call the police, call Marcos, or even Mike. He and Amy couldn't be that far away yet.

I had Mace on my keychain and pepper spray in the compartment on the door. I glanced down, but it was missing from its regular place. Reznik must have taken it.

“Whatever you're thinking, I assure you, it's a bad idea.”

“Abducting me is a bad idea,” I said. “Someone already tried it. It didn't go well for him.”

Someone honked behind me. The driver of a silver sedan pulled around, flashed me his middle finger, and sped away. He didn't even look long enough to see the man in the backseat.

“Drive.”

I jumped at Reznik's sharp command. An hour ago I'd been yelling “no!” at the top of my lungs, but now I could barely find the air to whisper.

“You know I picked a neon blue car specifically so no one would try to carjack me again?” I asked.

“Ms. Rossi,” he said. “You're going to take me to Alec Flynn, or there will be consequences, do you understand?”

I pressed down harder on the brake. I would not move this car. I would not let him control me.

“I don't know where he is,” I said, jaw tight.

“Oh I think you do,” he said. “He may be hiding from me, but he's not hiding from you.”

“I swear,” I said. “The FBI has him.”

Reznik chuckled. “Drive the car, bitch.”

Alec's voice sounded in my head.
If you're already in motion, you can shut it down.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “I'm driving. I'm doing what you want. No need to get hostile.”

Cold fingers reached between the seat and the headrest, gripping the back of my neck as if he could snap it by sheer force. I jerked away, but his hands tangled in my hair and held tight.

“You haven't begun to see hostile,” he said.

I may not have known exactly what he was planning, but his intent was clear enough to make me shudder.

I moved my foot to the gas, and slowly eased out onto the street. There wasn't much traffic this time of night, but a larger intersection was coming up, and there'd be more people there.

I watched the backlit needle rise. Ten miles per hour. Fifteen. The intersection came into view. It was still at least a mile away.

“Does it bother you that he abandoned you?” Reznik asked. “You could have been killed that night at the hotel.”

Slowly, I moved my hand to the cupholder in the center console. I felt around for the kill switch Alec had installed, trying to appear as though I was only adjusting my position. Finally the plastic rose beneath my finger. I had it.

“He didn't abandon me,” I said.

“Then where is he?” asked Reznik. “Is he here now, coming to your rescue?” He laughed, and the gun barrel scratched along the coarse fabric on the back of my seat.

“Maybe he is,” I said. As much as I longed for it to be true, I hoped tonight was not a night that Alec was watching me. I didn't even want him tracking my car on his GPS. He needed to stay as far away as he could from Reznik.

“I certainly hope so,” he said. “He's become a problem for me. At first, I thought we'd just talk. But then he never came to see me. So I had a friend check in on him, and now that friend is behind bars. Another great inconvenience. He's not leaving me many options. The trial is just over two months away now.”

We passed another typical Florida strip mall, and like most of the others, it was dark this time of night. Not one car in the parking lot. Not one car passed me on the road. We were getting closer to the intersection though. I had to hold on for another half mile.

“How much is Maxim Stein paying you?” I asked.

Reznik chuckled again. The sound made my stomach turn to water.

“What makes you think he can afford me?”

I wanted to believe he was bluffing, but something told me he was not. But if Maxim Stein wasn't behind Alec dropping the case against Maxim Stein, who was?

We came to the intersection. The light was green. Praying this would work and that Reznik wouldn't shoot me, I flipped the kill switch.

The engine died. The lights in the console went dark.

“What happened?” Reznik demanded.

“I don't know!” I tapped the gas but nothing happened. My car coasted through the intersection; not until we were in the center of it did I slam on the brakes. Cars on either side faced us, their lights blinding me.

“Start the car,” he ordered.

“I can't,” I said. “My battery must be dead.”

“Start the fucking car.” The cold metal of the gun pressed against my neck, locking the breath in my lungs.

“I
can't
,” I told him again. “Look, okay? I'm trying!” The keys clattered against the console as I turned them.

The lights changed. Two lanes of oncoming traffic crept forward, blaring their horns. The sound scraped my already taut nerves.

“I'm sorry!” I said, though they couldn't hear me. A van pulled close and a man opened his door and leaned out of the driver's seat.

“Hey!” he called, half hidden behind his window. “Everything okay?”

I raised a shaking hand. My heart beat a mile a minute.

“You can't shoot me in front of all these people,” I said. “There are witnesses everywhere.”

Reznik was still holding my hair and yanked my head back to his ear.

“Listen to me carefully, Ms. Rossi. I'm not afraid to hurt you.”

“Ma'am! Are you all right?” The man had gotten out and was closer now—twenty feet away. He must not have seen Reznik in the backseat. He wasn't proceeding with any sort of caution.

“Some men can't stomach it—the look in a woman's eyes when she's begging you to stop. It doesn't bother me.”

His chilly fingers snaked around my neck.

The man from the van was waving now. I could barely see him through the tears swimming in my eyes. Another guy had opened his car door behind me. My eyes shot between the rearview mirror, to the bystanders on the street, to the Mace on my keychain.

“Car must have stalled,” I heard someone outside call.

The grip on my hair tightened, and I yelped as a bright flash of pain seared across my scalp.

“If Alec Flynn doesn't agree to drop his testimony, it won't matter where you hide or who's protecting you. I'm going to find you, and I'm going to hurt you. Over and over. Until I tire of it. You tell him that.”

I heard my name. It came from far away, a whisper through the crashing in my eardrums.

Reznik opened the car door and stepped out into the intersection.

With the car door open, I heard my name more clearly, but I couldn't place where it was coming from. I scrambled for the Mace with shaking hands, keeping my eyes on the man who'd delivered the message.

He strode to the Good Samaritan from the van, who had stopped short, surprised, if I had to guess, that someone had been lurking in my backseat. I didn't hear what was said, but the man sidestepped so quickly he tripped and fell onto his side.

“Anna!”

My head shot up, toward the voice coming from across the intersection straight ahead. Alec was here. He'd found me. As I stared at him, dodging through the cars wearing jeans and the same baggy hooded sweatshirt I'd seen him in at the meeting, I was flooded with relief.

A second later my heart seemed to stop.

He came to an abrupt halt. I followed his gaze to Reznik, who reached beneath the lapel of the suit jacket he was wearing.

“No!” I shouted. I didn't remember getting out of my car, but I was standing on the street, exposed and unprotected.

“Get back in the car!” Alec was yelling at me, but I could hardly move. “Anna,
move
!”

Before Reznik could draw his weapon, Alec was on him. They rolled across the pavement, a blur of clothing and fists. Alec rose above him, and I watched as his hands closed around the man's throat.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” he growled.

Reznik slammed his fist into Alec's side, right in the ribs where he'd been stabbed. With a pained grunt, Alec toppled over as the other man crawled away. He stayed on his hands and knees, one arm wrapped around his midsection.

Reznik clambered to his feet. The metal of the gun glowed an eerie red in reflection of the overhead traffic light as he aimed it at Alec.

Observe your surroundings,
Mike had said less than an hour ago.
Anything can be used as a weapon.

The keys were in my hand, and I hurled them as hard as I could at Reznik. They struck him in the center of the back, and the shot that cracked through the air went high, over Alec's head.

A man yelled something I couldn't make out. Someone behind me was honking their horn. Alec wasn't running away like he should have been. He was gathering himself to attack again.

Horror filled me. I couldn't lose him. Not like this.

But Reznik didn't fire again. Gun in hand, he swung sideways into the still open door of the van. The driver had never shut off the ignition, and as soon as Reznik reached the front seat, the car jerked forward. Tires squealed as he hit the gas, nearly running over the van's owner. Another shot split the night, then two more. I dropped to the ground, searching frantically for Alec. I didn't see him; he must have been around the front of my car.

A woman with auburn hair wearing a button-up shirt and black slacks had opened fire on the van—Agent Jamison. She must have come with Alec. She didn't hit her target; the roar of the van's engine faded into the distance. From the ground, I watched her holster her weapon and reach for a cell phone. The bystanders scrambled. Some of them were throwing their cars into reverse and trying to get away. Nearby came the blare of a horn and the crunch of metal.

Alec was suddenly leaning over me. He dropped to one knee, his face too pale and slick with sweat.

“I told you to get back in the car!” he rasped. “What were you thinking?”

He grabbed me and crushed me against his chest. Though I was trembling, I could feel the hammering of his heart. His arms shook—he wasn't wearing the sling I'd seen before.

“What were
you
thinking?” I cried. “He could have killed you!”

“It's not your job to save me!”

I clung to him, feeling a sudden dose of calm in response to his fear. The ground was hard beneath my knees, sturdy, but my world felt like it had been turned upside down.

“I'm okay,” I said. “I'm not hurt.”

“I should have been here.” He said it again, and again. “I should have been here.”

“This is sweet.” Agent Jamison loomed over us. “But it's time for us to go. Now.”

“T
hey lost Reznik after he left the restaurant.” In the back of a black SUV driven by Agent Jamison, Alec's hands moved hastily over my shoulders, my arms, my face, as if to feel for something broken. To slow him down, I scooted closer, and wrapped my arms around him. He held on as if a strong wind might carry me away.

“Your man has a mean sixth sense, I'll give him that,” Jamison snapped from the front of the car. “He knew Reznik was heading your way before your car stalled on the GPS.” It may have been a compliment, but she wasn't happy about the situation.

With the black-tinted windows, there wasn't enough light to read Alec's expression, but I could feel his physical pain as if it was my own. Slowly, I eased back. He was reluctant to let me go. I placed a hand on his chest where the wound had been, and he flinched, then held my hand against him.

“She stays with me now, Janelle,” he said. “No negotiations. Make it happen.”

So apparently Alec and Agent Jamison were on a first-name basis. How sweet.

“Don't push it,” she responded. “You're not on my good side right now.”

He grunted. “Wasn't aware you had a good side.”

I glanced up at the driver, feeling a ridiculous flare of something close to jealousy. Not because I thought Alec would go for her, but because she'd been able to be with him when I'd been kept away.

“What about Reznik?” I asked, still feeling the cold dread in my gut from his last words.

“Local police have been notified,” she said. “We have the make and license of the car. He's won't get farther than a few miles.”

“You don't sound too concerned,” I said. We tumbled into the door as she made a hard left. Alec grunted in pain.

“My job is keeping my source alive, not chasing bad guys.”

“They're kind of one in the same, don't you think?”

“What did he say to you?” Alec interrupted.

Agent Jamison—
Janelle
—made a turn down a dark alley between two rows of government housing. I didn't know where she was taking us; this area of town was unfamiliar to me.

I cleared my throat. The words were in my mind, but I couldn't seem to get them out.

“He was looking for me,” prompted Alec.

“Yes. He doesn't want you to testify.”

“Did he say Stein hired him?” asked Janelle.

“He . . .” I closed my eyes, focused on Reznik's voice. “No. Just that Alec couldn't testify.”

“Should've pressed him,” muttered Janelle. “Prosecutor would have loved that.”

“He had a gun against my neck,” I snapped. “I wasn't much in the mood for getting a confession.”

“Jesus Christ.” Alec rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“What else?” asked Janelle.

It suddenly became difficult to make eye contact with Alec. I looked out the window, watching the broken chain-link fences and tiny weed-infested yards as they whipped by.

“If Alec doesn't shut down the trial, he's going to hurt me.”

Alec was staring at me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. He didn't reach for me now. He kept to the other side of the car. My teeth were chattering, as if it was freezing outside. I couldn't make myself be still.

“How?” asked Janelle

“He didn't exactly spell it out,” I said, my voice hitching. “He said he'd find me and hurt me. He'd take his time.”

“What else?” she pressed. “Think.”

“Enough,” said Alec, with enough finality to make me jump. He touched my cheek. “We'll figure it out later.”

The tires rolled over the broken asphalt.

“What about my car?” I asked, desperate for a change of subject. We'd just left it in the middle of the intersection.

“Tenner's going to clean it up. After his nose stops bleeding.”

I looked at Alec for explanation.

“He tried to get in my way,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug.

“You are by far the biggest pain in the ass I have ever had the pleasure of working with,” she grumbled. “My agent tries to stop you from leaving—which is his
only
job, by the way—and you knock him out cold.”

Alec fixed his gaze straight ahead, the way his father did when he was processing something.

“I warned him it was coming.”

“Well here's a warning for you—you take off like that again, and your next safe house is county lockup. See how much trouble you can cause there.”

She couldn't be serious. They couldn't lock Alec up, or me for that matter, when we hadn't broken the law. But her point was clear. We needed to seek cover and wait this out until the trial came, something that would be a lot easier now that we were together.

“How does this work?” I asked, trying to hold on to something concrete while everything around me seemed to be spinning out of orbit. “I guess I need to call my boss and tell him I won't be coming in tomorrow.”

“We'll take care of it,” said Janelle.

“I should call my dad,” I said, head in my hands. “Amy, too.” The dark thought occurred to me that Reznik might have seen me with her and Mike. My friends might be in danger. “God. I was supposed to meet your dad.”

“We'll take care of it,” Janelle repeated.

Alec placed his hand on my knee, a gesture of comfort, but also apology. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, but Amy's voice from our fight in the salon speared through the jumble of emotions.

What makes you think your trouble isn't just getting started?

*   *   *

The “safe house” was a run-down shotgun house in the slums. It had a patchy front lawn, a detached garage, and a privacy fence that hugged a tiny backyard. The shades were all drawn, and as we entered through the back door, I heard the distinctive buzz of a video camera as it adjusted on our position.

Inside, the house smelled like cleaning products and was sparsely decorated. Two mismatched couches curved around a small TV on a broken bookshelf. A foldout card table in the dining room was surrounded by metal chairs. And a man I recognized from the Circle Club was in the narrow, pea-green kitchen clutching a bloody rag to his nose.

“Is fugging brogen, asshole,” he said as we came inside. His eyes narrowed on me, and his thick brows lifted. “Whas she doing here?”

“Anna, this is Agent Tenner,” said Alec, placing a protective hand on my lower back.

“She's part of our big, happy family now,” added Janelle, tossing her keys on the kitchen counter so hard they slapped into the wall. “Isn't that nice? She isn't even a witness, but we're going to make an exception because Alec thinks she's cute.”

I gripped my purse, the only item I'd managed to bring with me from the car, tighter against my side. Alec's hand fisted in my shirt at the base of my spine.

“Good. Maybe she can keep him grounded.” Tenner lowered the rag, and I tried to hide the grimace as I saw his swollen, purple nose. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little impressed. He was more muscular than Alec, even if he wasn't quite as tall, and yet I didn't see Alec bearing any bruises.

“Tenner, you're on cleanup duty.” Agent Jamison was obviously in charge here. She proceeded to give the man with the broken nose a rundown of the night's events while he shrugged into a jacket and grabbed her keys.

I turned my focus to Alec. He was trying to stand straight, but failing. His shoulders curled forward, and his right arm was bent across his stomach. Gently, I touched his shoulder.

“Let me see.” I led him to the couch, where he eased into the squeaking seat. I remembered how he'd run through the cars into the intersection, and the way he'd fallen to the ground to grab me after Reznik had run off. Not even two weeks had passed since he'd been stabbed in the chest.

Slowly, I kneeled on the floor below him and pulled up his shirt, inhaling sharply as I saw the blossom of red the size of my fist that stained his white bandage.

“You need a doctor.” I lifted my head. “He needs a doctor,” I called.

“He'll fugging live,” grumbled Tenner on his way out the door.

Janelle came around the side of the couch, looking down on us warily.

I peeled back the bandage, seeing the damage wasn't as extensive as it looked. Most of the wound had healed, but there was still a large, brown and purple bruise around the scab that had torn open on one side.

“The doc said he's fine. He just needs to rest. Which maybe he can do now that you're here,” said Janelle. There was a hint of regret in her voice, but when I looked up at her, she had turned away. “He's got fresh bandages and painkillers somewhere. Dope him up and he'll be fine.”

“What if he's bleeding internally?” I insisted.

“I'm fine,” Alec rested his head on the back of the couch and blinked slowly.

“You're not,” I argued. My gaze shot up to the woman who'd brought us here. “Does he have a bed here? Or do you make him sleep on the floor?”

Her mouth tightened. She tilted her head. “Down the hall.”

I helped Alec up, and he let me without argument. That worried me even more.

The cheesy seashell wallpaper in the hall was bubbled and peeling where it met the worn carpet. The lightbulb overhead winked on and off as we passed beneath it. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a rat run by. Thinking about Alec trying to heal in a place like this made me want to punch Agent Janelle Jamison right in her smart-ass mouth.

“Wait,” Alec said as we passed a bedroom. He pushed open the door, to show another man I recognized sitting at a desk surrounded by file boxes and TV monitors.

“Hey,” he said. “I'm Matt.” He didn't seem surprised that I was there, but as I focused on the grainy black-and-white image on the screen behind him, I saw the back doorsteps, and realized he must have seen us come in.

“Anna,” I said. He'd been at the AA meeting as well—the one in the suit I'd seen loitering at the coffee cart.

“I know.” He grinned, and I couldn't help smiling back. At least not everyone here was a total dick.

“There's full video surveillance,” said Alec in a quiet voice. “Around the house, and out to the street. It's solid. I checked it myself.”

I knew why he was telling me this. He wanted me to know I would be safe here.

I nodded.

We continued on to the last bedroom at the end of the hall. It wasn't much larger than the one at my apartment, but it did have its own private bathroom and double bed. There was one small window, but thick red curtains covered it.

“I can't believe you've been staying here,” I said. In the quiet stillness of the room I became aware of my pulse, still flying, and the twitchy comedown from my adrenaline rush.

He sat on the bed, pulling me between his knees. His head came to rest against my stomach and I wove my hands through his thick, dark hair. Slowly, my body began to settle.

“It's not so bad,” he said. “Sheets are clean at least. I washed them yesterday.”

His fingers spread over my waist, warming the ice that Reznik had left inside of me.

“You shouldn't be doing anything,” I said.

“Yes, ma'am.” His voice was muffled in my thin, long-sleeved cover-up, but I could hear the exhaustion.

“I missed you,” I said.

He looked up at me then, dark eyes swimming with emotion.

“It's not worth it, is it?”

I held his face in my hands. For a second, I feared that he meant us—that
we
weren't worth it—but his grip only tightened around my waist.

“What isn't worth it?”

“The trial. Testifying. I thought it was the right thing.”

“Alec, it
is
the right thing.”

Every muscle in his body went rigid. “You've had a knife to your throat and a gun to your neck in the last two weeks. What happens when the trial actually starts?” He turned his face away. “Anna, this is your life we're talking about.”

I understood that. I also understood that Maxim was snapping his jaws like a rabid dog backed into a corner. He was running out of options fast. In a matter of months, he would lose everything.

“It's your life, too,” I said.

“You don't understand.” He gripped his side, the pain bright in his eyes, and he lowered his voice to control it. “You
are
my life. If I lose you none of this was worth it.”

His words settled on my skin and slowly sunk in, giving me time to recognize what they meant for both of us. Never had I been necessary to another person, but as I looked at Alec I knew that his need went far beyond the physical.

Mike had told me before that Alec had gone his whole life looking for an anchor, and I was it. I understood that now, better than ever. I could almost feel him grasping for something to hold on to. For me.

I sank into his lap, my touch just as gentle as his was fierce. I stroked his jaw, the tense muscles of his neck. He shivered as I slid my hands beneath the collar of his shirt.

“You won't lose me,” I said. “I'm right here.”

Slowly, I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his. My eyes drifted closed, and soon there was nothing but the soft warmth of his mouth, and the rough stubble on his jaw, and his fingers rising up my back.

My breath caught as the kiss deepened. He would claim me with that passion. Build a brick wall around us and never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. I could have let him—I
wanted
to let him—but I didn't. Because what he wanted and what he needed were two different things, and right now when he was raw, and hurting, and afraid, he needed love of a different kind.

I eased back, planting light kisses on his cheek and his brow.

“We're going to get through this,” I said, feeling more confident as I said the words aloud. “Maxim Stein is going to pay for what he's done. And one day we're going to look back and this all is just going to be a memory.”