Savor the Danger
Page 83

 Lori Foster

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Breathing hard, infuriated at himself, Spencer watched her taillights fade away. He was considering chasing after her when he got diverted by the familiar voice of a man exiting from the bar.
The man spoke hurriedly into a cell phone; a cohort kept pace with him.
Thankful that Arizona had left him in the concealing shadows, Spencer watched the men with burning hatred. He felt the weight of the gun at the small of his back, the press of a switchblade in his boot. His muscles knotted, and his hands flexed.
Doors opened, highlighting hated features for an instant as the men got into a silver BMW.
Already on his way to his truck, Spencer kept track of the BMW as it skidded over the gravel lot in a hasty exit.
Was it coincidence that they rushed out directly after Arizona? Had someone notified them of her departure?
If so, then that would have to mean that someone had been watching them—
The thought barely formed before he was attacked. Reacting by instinct alone, Spencer caught the momentum of the lunging body and fell to his back. Using his feet, he tossed the man over his head, then jumped onto him, gaining the upper hand. He landed two sharp blows before taking one on the jaw himself.
The meaty fist sported brass knuckles, and for an instant he saw stars.
Before the second punch could land, he rolled again and came to his feet—with his knife in his hand. He grinned at the other man, ready, anxious even. “Come on then. I don’t have all night.”
Then the real bloodshed began.
A minute later, with senses peeled and rage honed to a lethal edge, Spencer drove away with the intent of catching up to the BMW.
For a minute there he’d felt bad about how things had gone with Arizona. But the scuffle with her had given him the opportunity to lift her wallet. All he’d needed was a reason, any reason at all, to track her down.
It’s what he did.
And he was better than good.
Thanks to the silver BMW, he had all the reason he needed. He’d be seeing her again. Odd as it seemed, and despite the personal pursuit of justice, he already looked forward to it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CONCERNED, ALANI WAITED as Jackson again made a call. He’d done that several times, without much success.
“Still no answer?”
He shook his head. “We’ll be at Dare’s in a few more minutes. I’ll get you and the cat settled, and then figure out something.”
With the reflective sunglasses shielding his eyes, she couldn’t gauge his intent, but she didn’t like the sound of that. Since telling her about Arizona, he’d been distant from her.
And it hurt. “What exactly do you mean, get us settled?”
Evasive, he tightened his mouth and glanced at his mirrors.
Even knowing that Dare and Trace trailed them, he’d been especially watchful. “Jackson?”
“You have to be getting hungry.” He reached over and patted her thigh.
Trying to pacify her? She studied his handsome profile, saw the strain in his shoulders and opted not to press him. “I could eat.”
“And the cat needs out of that box.”
Alani looked over the seat. The cat had settled down and currently seemed okay with the ride. He’d worked around until he got his head poked out of the box, and now, except for the occasional raspy meow, he stared out the window as if mesmerized. “He’s doing okay.” She reached back and scratched under his chin.
Jackson glanced at the clock. “Thanks to the traffic, this trip has taken longer than it should have.”
“Only by a little.” His concern for Arizona left him cold and distracted. Alani knew he had a plan, she just didn’t think she’d like it. Now that the girl had a name, Alani wanted to know more about her.
But he’d become evasive, defensive and increasingly detached.
“You’ve got to be getting hungry, too.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t look at her. “But I’ve got some other stuff to take care of first.”
Meaning Arizona? Did he think she wouldn’t understand? More than most, she knew how difficult it could be for a woman to overcome the trauma of such an experience. She wanted to talk to him about it, but doubted, in his current mood, that he’d be receptive. “Is there a work number where you can call her?”
He hesitated, his frustration clear, then shook his head. “I tried the school already.”
“The school?”
“Yeah, it’s…” Furious with himself, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Forget that.”
Not likely. As she continued to stare at him, he glanced at her and flattened his mouth as if she’d just coerced him into some great admission.
“I had her in school, all right? But swear to God, that girl runs off more than she stays put. Seems every couple of months, the school has to get in touch. I thought that was what had happened again, but now…”
Stymied, Alani asked, “How old is she?”
Again he glanced at her, then away. “She’s only twenty.”
Twenty was a woman, not a girl.
Grudgingly, he added, “She needed an education.”
Hmm. Okay. Feeling her way, Alani asked, “College?”
“Yeaaaah.” He dragged out the word. “Well, sort of like an all-girl school.”
Alert to what he didn’t say, Alani propped herself into the corner of the seat. “An all-girl school, you say?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck again. “More like…a small women’s college. You know, where you get an education and also learn all that crap about society functions and stuff.”