Page 21 of Power Play

What the hell is going on?

Forcing my eyes open, I blink several times. Blocks of light from the streetlights seep through the shattered windows. Shadows shift outside, their inky figures skirting across the seat and floorboard.

I hiss through clenched teeth as I move across the floorboard toward the still-intact door. Everything pulses with sharp, breath-catching pain. Shards of glass slice at my knees and palms, but still I continue toward freedom.

The putrid scent of burning rubber wafts through the destroyed passenger compartment.

“Fuck,” I wheeze. Lunging for the door, I grip the handle and shove.

It doesn’t budge. A stronger waft of smoke fuels my frantic attempt at escape.

I willnotburn to death in this fucking limo. Nope. Light breaks through the darkness, the grind of metal against metal piercing my sensitive ears.

A head pops through the now-open door. “Ma'am, we need to get you out of here.”

Relief swells in my chest, calming my stroke-level pulse at the authoritative male voice.

I’m getting out of here. Today is not my death day. Whew.

“No shit.” Okay, apparently near-death experiences shift the real Randi back into the driver seat of my mouth.

He dips farther through the door into the tattered interior, a hint of a smirk shining on his face. “Now,” he commands.

I eagerly accept his extended hand. Calluses scrape along my palm as our hands slide together.

“So bossy,” I grumble. I scoot across the leather, careful to not pierce my ass with the broken window bits. At the door, he snakes an arm around my waist and hoists me into the air.

My eyes dart around, taking in the flashing lights and utter chaos. A crowd with flashing cameras shouts from behind a line of suited men while another group on the other side of the street jerks handmade signs in the air, their faces contorted in anger.

“What… what the hell happened?” I ask, confusion filling my soft tone. He takes several long strides away from the limo with me still pressed tightly to his hard chest. “What are you're doing? I can walk.”

“The glass, ma'am. You're not wearing shoes.”

Okay, he has a point, but still, he could've asked.

I shift my focus from the crowds toward the direction he’s headed. The bright lights of my condo building’s overhang blare through the night across the block. At his back, lights continue to flash, red and blue beams like a colorful strobe light coming from the few police cars.

“Get her inside,” says a deep, masculine voice. I peer over my hero’s shoulder, and my eyes widen. The man is a fucking tank. The light reflects off his smooth bald head, shadows contouring to highlight his bulky frame. His dark eyes scan the area over and over again.

“Oh really,” says the man holding me. “You don't say. Can't believe we let these fuckers slip through. We've gotten rusty sitting on the sidelines.”

Despite the circumstances, a smile tugs at my lips.

“Not the time or place, Benson,” the big guy says. “A doctor will be up in five.”

“Where were those rent-a-cops she's had on her?”

“Not sure. Working on it.” The big man presses two fingers to his ear. “On my way.” His narrowed eyes meet mine before flicking to the man cradling me in his arms. “Just get her inside. We'll figure the rest out after we’re secure.”

Even with the man’s quick steps, rushing us toward the glass doors of the condo lobby, his tight hold keeps me snug against his chest, preventing any jostling. Leaning back a bit to look over his shoulder, I sweep the area until I find the limo.

“What the…?” I whisper to myself as I scan the wreckage. The damage centers around the passenger compartment, the driver side unharmed except for where it nailed a light pole. “This is getting out of hand.”

The man’s annoyed huff pulls my gaze from the totaled limo to his face, and I take in every handsome detail. Light brown eyes rapidly scan our surroundings. Straight nose, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. A full bottom lip presses tight against a thinner upper one, the soft pink color draining, leaving the inside edges white. Happy wrinkles crease his cheeks and the edges of his eyes from years of smiling. Naturally unblemished tan skin and silky, dark chocolate floppy hair accentuate his overall appeal. Attractive in a happy, mischievous way.

I lower my scrutinizing gaze to a dress shirt, tie, and suit jacket.

All the pieces snap together.

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