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Authors: Alicia Dean

Tags: #romance,suspense,anthology,sensual

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BOOK: Killer Love
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Aside from the regular lessons, Cal taught her a few groin attacks, knee stamping and gouging techniques, pointing out the parts of a man’s body where she could do the most damage.

Although proud of the progress she’d made, she knew it wasn’t enough. Sure, she may be able to defend herself against someone her own size who wasn’t schooled in martial arts. But could she take down a grown man that meant her serious harm? Could she defend herself against Bryce? She didn’t think so.

After a few more minutes, Jade’s muscles screamed and fatigue gripped her limbs. She’d been working out for two hours and even though she was stronger than she’d ever been, she knew when it was time to call it quits.

Pulling off her gloves, she gathered her bag from the bench and headed to the front door. As she approached the basketball courts, she heard Cal’s voice raised in anger.

“You kids aren’t supposed to be in here after eight o’clock. I’ve told you that before.”

Cal was an ex-military Special Forces expert and a stickler when it came to rules. Jade always felt sorry for the kids that encountered his wrath when one of the rules was violated.

Stopping in the doorway, Jade saw a young girl and two teenage boys walking away from Cal. The girl was dressed completely in black with blue-black hair that was obviously dyed. The taller boy wore baggie jeans low on his thin hips, boxer shorts visible above the waistband. The other teen was chubby with long hair and a bad case of acne.

Jade cringed when the tall boy tossed a basketball over his shoulder, barely missing Cal’s head.

“Hey,” Cal shouted but the teens ignored him. “Smart ass punks,” he muttered.

“Cal?” Jade said from the doorway. He looked up, noticing her for the first time. “Is it really that big a deal for them to hang out here?”

The teens stopped, the girl eying her with suspicion and the boys with what looked like admiration.

“It’s the rules, Jenna. No one under eighteen in here after eight p.m.”

She still wasn’t used to her new name.
Jenna Donovan
. The US Marshals had suggested that she use her own initials. They said it was easier to become accustomed to a new name when it started with the same letters as the old.

“Maybe so, but isn’t it better for them to be in here than out on the streets?”

Cal huffed a breath and shook his head. “It’s not really any of your business.”

She shrugged as if to say ‘I tried’ as the teens passed her.

“Sorry for intruding,” she told Cal once the kids were gone. “I just feel like this is a safer place for them to be. Better than being out causing trouble.”

“Maybe so. But rules are rules.”

She didn’t want to argue with Cal but she could have reminded him that those were
his
rules and they made no sense. The gym didn’t close until eleven but kids had to be out by eight.

What the hell. He was right. It was none of her business. She’d done fine so far by not getting involved with anyone, why start now?

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Cal said. “I’m worried about this ex-boyfriend of yours. He hasn’t been around, has he?”

She shook her head, guilt eating at her for lying to Cal. “He doesn’t know where I am.”

His gaze dropped to her neck and she wondered what he was thinking. He’d never questioned her about her injury, but she was sure he attributed it to the ‘boyfriend’. “Well, I don’t mean to scare you, but it’s likely he could find you. Do you have any idea how many women are killed by abusive men?”

“I know. I’ll be careful. The skills you’re teaching me will come in handy if he ever does find me.”

“There’s something else I want to teach you. Something I’ve never talked to anyone about, but I worry about you. It’s called ‘Dim Mak’. The Death Touch.”

“The what?”

“Death Touch. It’s an ancient oriental method of striking certain vital points on an opponent, rendering them incapacitated, sometimes even causing their death.”

She laughed but stopped abruptly when she saw the look on his face. He was serious.

“I appreciate your concern, but I think what you’ve taught me is enough. Besides, you surely don’t believe in that, do you?”

“Do you believe in acupuncture?” he asked, a defensive note in his tone.

“Yes, but...”

“It’s the same concept. If there are points on your body that can help you to heal, why can’t they cause the opposite effect?”

“I suppose they could,” she replied slowly, still not convinced but wanting to appease him. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m sure you know what you’re talking about but I really don’t think I’m interested. Thanks, anyway. Listen, it’s late, I really need to go. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“Ok, see ya.”

“Jenna,” Cal called out to her when she’d almost reached the door. He looked around as if to assure himself they were alone. “I know it’s real.” His voice was a guttural whisper that carried to her across the expanse of the gym. “Because I’ve used it.”

A chill raced across her skin. She nodded but not knowing how to respond, she left. She was eager to breathe in fresh air after being in the gym for most of the day; and, if she were honest, anxious to get away from Cal. She was a little freaked about the Dim Mak thing, even though she didn’t really believe it worked.

When she stepped outside, she saw the girl from the basketball court sitting on the curb in the parking lot. The boys were gone and she was alone in the dark, apparently waiting for a ride.

Without speaking, Jade averted her eyes and headed toward her car.
She’ll be okay. She seems pretty tough.

Her hand stalled as she reached for her keys.

What if she’s stranded without a ride? It’s late and she’s just a ki
d.

Forget it. Like Cal said, it’s none of your business.

Yeah, but you can’t just leave her here alone.

Sighing, Jade retraced her steps. The girl raised her head when she approached. “You okay?” Jade asked.

“Fine,” the girl replied but Jade heard tears in her voice.

“It’s late. Do you have a ride?”

Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I was supposed to, but the asshole didn’t show up.”

“I could give you a lift. Where do you live?”

The girl gave her a narrow-eyed stare and after a moment said, “The same apartments you do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen you around the place.”

Jade hadn’t noticed the girl before. She usually kept to herself, choosing to ignore the neighbors. Up close, the girl was prettier than she’d realized. She had striking blue eyes, circled with heavy black eyeliner and her lips were smeared with black lipstick. But her pale beauty was there, underneath the ‘goth’ look she tried to hide behind.

Deep in her eyes was a wariness that shouldn’t be in someone so young. She reminded Jade of some of the girls she’d met at the shelter. She didn’t see any signs of cutting, but the wounded air about the girl made her think of Courtney.

“Well, since I’m going your way, you might as well come along.”

The girl shrugged as if it didn’t matter but got up and followed her to her car.

“I’m Jenna Donovan, by the way,” Jade said as they drove out of the parking lot.

“Ashley,” the girl said without looking up, as if reluctantly volunteering the information.

She didn’t speak again during the drive. Jade tried to make conversation, but each question she asked was answered with a shrug.

They pulled into the parking lot of the complex and the car had barely come to a stop before the girl muttered, “Thanks,” and practically leapt from the seat, slamming the door behind her.

Jade climbed out of the car just in time to see a young boy run toward them, throwing his arms around the girl’s waist.

“Ashley, I was worried about you.”

She hugged him back and for the first time, Jade saw a softening in her harsh features. It almost made her look human. “I’m fine, Jonathan.”

“You’re late.”

“Dennis was supposed to pick me up but he didn’t show.”

“He’s drunk with momma.”

Ashley cut her eyes toward Jade and took the boy by the shoulders, steering him away. “Shhh, Jon. Don’t say that.”

The boy pulled away from Ashley and, as if noticing Jade for the first time, peered at her curiously. He wore a grass stained baseball uniform that was at least a size too small. The buttons strained against his round belly and the ‘Panther’ logo on the front was frayed and faded. “Who are you?” he asked.

“My name’s Jenna.” Jade stuck out her hand. The boy placed his pudgy fingers in it and squeezed.

“I’m Jon.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jon.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers but thanks for bringing Ashley home.”

Right. His mother teaches him not to talk to strangers yet lets him run around an apartment complex unattended in the dark. Not to mention, leaving her daughter stranded.
Great job, Mom
.

“Well, we’re neighbors but that’s a good idea not to talk to strangers. And, you’re welcome.”

Together, they walked toward the apartment building. As they reached the entryway, a man staggered out. When he saw the kids, he started toward them. He was thin but had a paunch that poked out of his too-tight Rob Zombie tee shirt. His filthy blond hair was matted with sweat, limp bangs hanging above mean eyes. His face was mottled with acne scars and what looked like meth sores; she’d seen them on some of the kids at the shelter.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’? I was gonna pick you up. If I’d gotten there and you was gone I’da been pissed.”

“Yeah, well,
I
was pissed when I waited for half an hour and you didn’t show. Besides, as drunk as you are, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you, anyway.”

“You little bitch.” The man started toward Ashley but saw Jade standing behind her and stopped. His tone immediately became more pleasant. “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

“Jenna,” Ashley said shortly. “She’s a neighbor and she gave me a ride.”

“We’ll have to have her over some time.” His eyes moved slowly up and down Jade’s body and a shiver of revulsion moved over her skin. “To thank her.”

“That’s quite all right,” Jade said coldly. “Ashley thanked me already. It was nice meeting all of you. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a response, Jade headed to her apartment. She was a little concerned that the guy might hurt the children but Ashley didn’t seem afraid of him, so it was probably okay. Besides, she’d already performed her share of Good Samaritan duties for the day and she wanted no more involvement with that family and their problems. She had enough of her own.

She stripped off her clothes in the bedroom on her way to the shower. As she passed the window, she noticed the blinds were open. A shiver of alarm skimmed her spine. She walked over to close them, but before she did, she looked outside. A figure stood in the courtyard. She couldn’t make out his features but from his silhouette, she could tell it was a man and he seemed to be looking at her apartment. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

Bryce. Dear God, Bryce had found her. She quickly stepped back, trembling violently. Standing with her back against the wall, she once more looked outside. The man was still there. Her first thought was to grab her gun from the drawer of the nightstand but she was too frozen to move.

As she watched, the figure’s hand went to his mouth and he flicked a lighter to the cigarette between his lips. In the glow of the flame, she saw his features clearly. Not Bryce. Dennis. The asshole boyfriend.

Her fear turned to rage and she jerked the blinds closed. She had a feeling the son-of-a-bitch was going to be trouble.

Walking to her bedside table, she opened the drawer. The moonlight coming in through the blinds glinted off the barrel of the Ruger P89, giving her an odd feeling of security.

She closed the drawer and smiled. “Bring it on, asshole,” she whispered. “I’ll be ready.”

****

Luke squatted beside Delia’s grave and brushed his fingers over her headstone. “I won’t promise you that I’ll get him,” he whispered. “But I swear to you, I’ll never stop trying.”

Even as he said the words, he felt crushed by his own inadequacies. It had been over a month and not a sign. It was as if the bastard had ceased to exist.

The wind picked up and Luke stood, shoving his hands deep inside the pockets of his bomber jacket. Flowers on some of the other graves began to sway, reminding him he should have brought her some roses or something. She would have liked that.

Until Delia’s death, the last time he’d been at a cemetery was to visit Angel, the younger sister he’d lost ten years ago. Like Delia, he should have protected her. He’d thought at the time he was doing the right thing. She had to make a choice. He could only rescue her so many times, right? After that, it was up to her. Again, like Delia, she’d made the wrong choice. And it had cost her life.

The cemetery was deserted. He came here once a week and it was almost always deserted. Some of the headstones were brand new, the graves fresh. Others were so old the inscription was no longer legible. Strange how the atmosphere was peaceful and at the same time tragic. How many of these deaths were natural causes and how many were the work of some depraved sonofabitch like Bryce DiMarco?

His hands clenched and he shoved them further into his pockets, taking a deep breath. Rage crackled like electricity through his veins. He wanted DiMarco, wanted to snuff the life from him as surely as he’d snuffed the life from countless others. Delia...the young girls whose lives he’d destroyed. How many others?

He shook his head, wondering what kind of person stood among the dead and wished death upon another human being. Maybe it was normal, maybe it was sick, either way, he didn’t really give a damn. That was how he felt. And he didn’t just wish death on the bastard; he wanted it to be slow and painful. And he wanted it to be at his hands.

He rubbed his palms over his eyes and turned away. It was hard to look at a headstone and see Delia’s name there. She should be alive. She had her whole future ahead of her. She didn’t deserve this.

The sudden blast of his cell phone shattered the peace. He dug it out of his pocket and flipped it open.

BOOK: Killer Love
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ads

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