he was trying to run, he felt slow. Too slow. Everything was too slow.
Her head whipped toward him. She stared at him with wide, stark eyes.
Joel wasn’t going to make it to her in time. He wasn’t going to—
She flew at him, shoved him back, and they both slammed into the sidewalk.
He could smell the rubber of the tires. Could swear that he felt the heat of the engine. The screech of wheels filled his ears as the dark car rushed away.
“What in the hell were you doing?” Chloe was on top of him. Her legs straddled his hips, and her hands curled over his shoulders.
“Saving you?” Joel asked. That had been his plan.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He stared up at her and tried to ignore just how incredibly good she felt on top of him. This was the wrong time to be thinking about anything except surviving. The wrong time to be thinking that he wanted her. The wrong time to be thinking—
He blinked and stared up at her. Footsteps were pounding toward them. Voices were raised. Someone was talking about calling the cops.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chloe cocked her head. She made no move to get off him. “What is it?”
“I just realized…when I’m with you, I don’t think as much about my past.” The past had tried to grab him in the alley, but when she’d touched him, he’d slipped from those shadows. I went back to her.
No, when he was with her, things were different somehow. He thought less about the nightmare that wouldn’t let go of him. And he thought about…her. He thought about hunting killers. Stopping bad guys. Questioning exotic dancers. He thought about a million things, but he stopped being a victim.
For a moment, he could’ve sworn a smile teased her lips.
She leaned toward him. Her lips slid near his ear. “Good. That’s step one.”
Then she was pulling back. Rising. Dusting herself off and appearing totally cool. Acting as if some nutjob hadn’t just attempted to run her down.
And had she really whispered, “step one” to him? Or had that been his imagination?
If she had whispered it…shit, what was step two? Did he even want to know?
***
Chloe offered her hand to Joel as she stood in front of his apartment door. “Thanks for your help.”
His hand closed around hers. Warmth seemed to spread from her palm all the way up her arm.
His hold tightened on her. “Is this what every night is like for you?”
More nights than he’d probably suspect. But that was good. When she was out, chasing her killers, she didn’t have to stay alone in the dark and think. “Everyone needs a hobby.”
“How many killers have you put away?”
“Do you truly want to know?”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
He was still holding her hand.
“Officially, only five.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s one hell of a lot.”
“Unofficially, probably about fifteen. But I discovered early on that the local departments or the FBI hotshots like to take the big credit. I steer them where they need to go, I get the job done, and then I move on.” Simple enough.
Joel stared at her.
“You’re stroking my wrist. Do you realize you’re doing that?”
He immediately stopped. She supposed he hadn’t realized he was doing that. Cute. He let her go as if he’d been burned.
Not so cute.
It was time to leave him. “Good night, Joel. Or rather, good day.” The sun would rise soon. She turned away from him.
“The driver tried to run you down.”
“Maybe. Maybe it was simply an accident. A drunk guy who’d left the club and didn’t realize that a woman stood in his path.”
“I saw the car. It angled toward you.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I had time to get out of the way. You didn’t need to try lunging after me.”
A muscle flexed along the hard plane of his jaw.
“I don’t need rescuing. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. But it was a sweet gesture.” She inclined her head toward him. “Until we meet again, Joel.” Chloe squared her shoulders and headed toward the stairs.
“Are we going to meet again?”
Her hand curled around the old bannister. She didn’t look back this time. “What do you think?”
***
He still thought she was crazy. But he also thought she was probably the most unusual woman he’d ever met in his life. Joel shut his apartment door and glanced around. Damn, the place really did look like shit.