Page 7 of Deadly Threat
“Good for you. I thought about attempting the half next month, but having a family cuts way down on my workout time.”
Even the Beast had settled into family life. He had a dog, too. “Tough problem to have.” Mal rocked his chair again, his thoughts jumping in all directions. Two days wasn’t long to sit on his hands, and he had plenty to keep him occupied, but the thought of Jam King and Leo Lopez running free and partnering up once more made his guts twist. Who knew what kind of hell they could rain down on innocent people? “What if they go after Mia again?”
The Beast untangled his legs and sat forward. “Why would they? It was Damon who had a hard-on for manipulating the mayor. I doubt Newt cares about her and her policies one way or the other.”
Still didn’t sit well with him. “Dupé’s putting extra protection on them both, right?”
“The Marshals are handling it, but Amber doesn’t want Mia to suspect anything, so it’s all covert.”
Malachi stood and held out his hand. It was against his better judgment to agree with this plan, but he was just a lowly fugitive apprehension agent, not a big wig government one. “Forty-eight hours. If you need my help…”
Harris shoved himself to standing and shook on it. “I know where to find you.”
The whole thing kept Malachi stewing the rest of the day. He went for another run after work, but not even pushing his body to the breaking point kept his anger at Lopez and the others at bay.
So he forced himself to go to a support meeting at the church downtown, hoping peer intervention might take his mind off the fact he’d agreed to do nothing while this was all going down.
He was ten minutes late when he slipped into the back row and took the only available seat. A man was at the podium, talking about his fear of the desert after nearly dying during a mission in Sudan.
A soft whine made Malachi glance down. Dark eyes stared up at him from the floor. He smiled at Ladybug, shocked and amused, and the body next to him stiffened. He turned to her owner. “We meet again,” he said under his breath.
A faint wave of panic crossed her face. “You,” she whispered.
Jokingly, he pointed at the cheap metal seat under him. “Is this yours?”
It was the wrong thing to ask. She jumped up, tugged on the dog’s leash, and ran for the door.
Three
“Hey, wait,” McHottie called, his deep baritone echoing on the street.
Mia kept walking, her gait brisk and adrenaline pumping hard.
“I didn’t mean it.” She heard his footsteps as he ran to catch up to her. “Don’t go.”
Darkness had fallen and the roads were damp with rain. The brief shower was already done, leaving the sidewalk slick and abandoned in its wake.
She had no car, no ride, and nowhere safe to go. Ladybug kept the pace she set as she fumbled with her phone. “Leave me alone.”
Under a light, he fell into stride with her, the scent of clean soap filling her nose as if he’d just stepped out of a shower. “Please don’t go because of me. I was joking. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He was taller than she’d anticipated. Her pulse kicked when she glanced up at his face, her finger hovering over the number for a ride. Sue would be off at this time of night, but someone else would be available. “I don’t know who you are, but you need to back off.”
Ladybug wagged her tail as he slowly raised his hands in the air in a surrender gesture and did indeed step back. “Name’s Malachi, and I mean no harm. I’ll leave if you want.”
The shadows were thick around them and she didn’t like standing under the glow of the solar light. Taking her own step away from his intense size and muscles, she eased into the murkiness of the building’s shade. “Why?”
“Because obviously, you’re here for a reason. You need a support meeting.”
“And why are you here?”
He lowered his hands and glanced down at the sidewalk. “Because I do as well.”
She didn’t want to believe him. Didn’t want to trust that it was coincidence he’d turned up this morning and again now, in her space.
No such thing as coincidence. Her kidnapping had taught her that. A nice guy, handsome, shows up out of the blue and starts chatting you up? Run the other direction. If not, you could end up in the trunk of his car, in a bare room, screaming for your life. “You expect me to buy the idea that you’re not following me? That you just happened to be at the library in my spot this morning, and now you’re here?”
Dark eyes met hers once more. “I’m not, I swear. I don’t even know you.” He seemed to hesitate. “I don’t think, anyway. You seem vaguely familiar. Must be the dog.”
