him move to stop me, I swung my arm up, keys sharp-edge out, and swiped the fucker across the face with every bit of strength in me.
He yelled, clutching at the wound, and I launched myself upward, screaming my rage as I brought the keys down with both hands—with more force than I knew I had—right into the side of his neck. They slid in after a strange, jarring, popping sensation, and Kramer slumped off me, clutching at the makeshift weapon sticking out of him. Horror and disbelief slackened his features.
Get out, Jane. Get up and get out! It was Jamie’s frantic command I heard reverberating around my mind.
I wanted to scramble away. I did.
But there were black dots all over my vision.
Multiplying and multiplying until there was nothing but a starless universe pulling me into its dark depths.
33
JAMIE
Sitting at the coffee shop on Sunset Boulevard, near my apartment, I couldn’t write. I thought if I took some time, poured all my frustration into the new novel, it might calm me down.
However, I couldn’t shake my agitation.
I’d never walked out on an argument with Jane when we were younger because I hated that shit, and it only took half an hour for me to realize I still couldn’t do it. I’d never be able to concentrate until she and I hashed this out.
She had to know I wasn’t walking away from Foster Steadman, and I had to know where that left things between her and me.
No matter how concerned I was that Jane might walk away from us for real this time.
Snapping my notebook shut, I cleared my table and left the coffee place. My car was parked only a block away, but I jogged to get to it. It was thankfully only a five-minute drive back to our complex.
I felt more than a little nervous as I let myself into the building. Everything was so fragile between me and Jane. I didn’t know when I’d stop expecting things to fall apart again. Hopefully, time would make things easier between us.
As I neared our floor, I thought I heard the murmur of a man’s voice. Picking up my pace, I hurried upstairs. Disturbed by the sight of Jane’s door lying ajar, I marched into the apartment and came to an abrupt halt.
The place was a mess.
The building manager, Ivy Martin, was kneeling next to a prone Jane.
Fear exploded through me at the sight of Jane’s bloodied and swollen face, her unconscious form. I stumbled toward her.
What the hell had happened here?
A groan drew my gaze. Sitting propped against the sofa, his hands covered in blood and clutching at his neck, was Frank fucking Kramer.
My entire body felt like it had been dipped into a pot filled with molten lava.
I fell to my knees at Jane’s side. What had he done? I couldn’t breathe properly. My hands shook as they hovered over her. “Jane?”
“Jane?” Ivy asked.
I ignored her. “Jane, baby, wake up, yeah.”
She didn’t respond.
“Margot’s alive, just unconscious,” Ivy informed me.
I pressed my fingers to her pulse and found it strong and steady. “Jesus fuck.”
I looked at Ivy and blinked in surprise when I realized she had a gun trained on Kramer.
“Ambulance is on the way. I heard a crash while I was working upstairs, and I heard Margot yell for help.”
My blood turned to ice in my veins at the idea of her alone with that fucking maniac, Kramer. I could only surmise he found out what we were up to, and he’d come after Jane.
FUCK!
“Hurried to get my gun, thought I might need it. Nearly had heart failure when I heard her scream again. Had to break down the door because the chain was on. Found Margot out cold and this son of a bitch”—she nodded at Kramer—“was crawling along the floor, trying to escape, even though he’s got a set of keys wedged in his neck.”
“Keys,” I muttered, watching Jane’s chest rise and fall slowly.
“Yeah. She fought back. Boy, did she fight back. You know the kind of strength it takes to stick a set of keys in a guy’s neck? But he got his licks in good before she could.”
Just like that, I snapped.
Lunging at Kramer, determined to finish the asshole, I was shocked as shit by the strength in the manager as she grabbed me by the collar one-handed and threw me back on my ass.
I glared at her in disbelief and outrage, ready to take her on too, gun or no gun, when she cocked