We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,47

another check on her checklist.

Izzie’s ten-step plan back to Normal.

The W4HAV sign beckoned her. Even through the rain.

Izzie was so tired of all the rain. It was one of the wettest years on record in the state. She was about ready to move to New Mexico or Arizona just to dry out.

She was halfway to the door when a dark luxury SUV pulled in. A tall man stepped out, but she couldn’t see him fully in the downpour.

She hesitated—there wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot and the rain had turned almost torrential—but she told herself to stop being a coward. She couldn’t live the rest of her life afraid of every shadow or every tall man she didn’t know.

She wouldn’t be that way.

She was fifty feet away from her destination. She was just fine and perfectly safe.

When the man turned, she got a good look at his face and she told herself she’d been an idiot. It was ok.

He wasn’t exactly a threat to her personal safety. Maybe her mental well-being, but not her safety.

They had even found a bit of peace between them in the last few days.

His sister had been at W4HAV’s trauma support group Izzie’s first day back. Shelby had told a bit of her own story; enough to have Izzie finally understanding why Allen had seemed so protective over Nikkie Jean.

Shelby’s story was terrifying in that the men who should have protected her, had been the very ones to terrify her.

Yet another dark cloud over the TSP.

She had been meaning to ask Jake if he had ever heard anything about what had happened to Allen’s sister, but her uncle had been rather difficult to find lately.

His case, that had been all he’d said. It was turning into a bad one. Izzie had trained herself to hold back the worry—at least not let it be visible—for him years ago. The knowledge that he could be hurt in the line of duty was a very real fear that everyone who’d ever loved a cop had felt.

Allen saw Izzie coming through the rain and paused. It wasn’t hard to recognize her. The short, rich, dark hair was distinctive, even plastered to her head like a ball cap.

She looked like a pixie, with the mist of the rain all around her.

He laughed at his poetic thoughts for a moment. She wouldn’t appreciate him thinking of her that way; he knew that.

She didn’t have an umbrella. He had one. He stepped closer. She’d already crossed from the hospital in the downpour, but he had been raised to be a gentleman. He had almost made it to her when a truck squealed to a stop right next to her, sending a flood of water straight at her.

She covered her face at the last minute.

He heard her cry out.

Two men jumped from the back of the truck.

And were on her. Grabbing her. Dragging her to the back passenger side of the white truck.

Allen didn’t stop to think.

He yelled as he tossed the umbrella aside and dove at the closest attacker.

50

Izzie screamed and clawed, but it wasn’t enough. The bigger man had ahold of her by the neck. Squeezing, yelling at her to shut up. That her uncle should have kept his nose out of other people’s businesses.

He had her off the ground. Izzie kicked her legs and clawed at his arm. He cursed.

She saw the fist coming at her face far too late to stop it.

It slammed into the side of her head, and she went sprawling.

Concrete rose to meet her. She threw her hands out in front of her to stop the inevitable. It was too late.

She slammed into the concrete. Her head bounced off the parking lot.

That’s all she remembered, other than the darkness she couldn’t stop.

And the sounds of Allen trying to protect her once again.

Allen was bigger. He was yelling loudly. There had to be people around somewhere. People who could damned well help.

He wasn’t about to let anyone hurt Izzie again. Not if he could stop it. There were three men now. Two came at him.

A third went for her.

Divide and conquer. He was the bigger threat.

He kicked out, catching one guy in the stomach.

Allen bellowed and slammed his fist into the closest attacker’s nose. Blood coated his knuckles. His, the attackers’. It didn’t matter.

He had to get to Izzie.

He heard someone yelling. Female. It wasn’t Izzie.

Nikkie Jean. It was always Nikkie Jean. Someone else yelled out behind her. He recognized the voice and figured it was