“I’m here.” I held up my bag. “I brought rope and other stuff to help get you down.”
“I can’t believe you came.”
“Of course I came. I’ll have you out of there in no time.” I forced a smile, but Chloe knew me too well. Even in the semidarkness, she could tell I was worried.
“It’s too high to throw the rope, isn’t it?”
“Maybe for an amateur.” My joke fell flat as did the rope after a few failed attempts. Like I’d told Emma, I knew how to throw, but if I couldn’t do it, there weren’t many who could.
“I’ll tie it to a stick or branch and lift it up,” I said. “Or you could climb out the window, and I can talk you down.”
“It’s too high,” she said. “I can’t do it.”
I heard a crack in the bushes: the rustle of leaves. I looked behind me, but there was nothing but trees and darkness.
“What is it?” she called out, her voice low. “What’s the matter?”
“I heard something. It must just be a cat.” I walked over to the bushes and picked up the nearest fallen branch. Thick and sturdy, it was almost six feet long.
“I’ve got the perfect branch,” I shouted, tying the rope to the top. Chloe leaned out over the window, and I held it in the air just under her outstretched hands.
“Got it!” She untied the rope and pulled it inside.
“Tie it to something sturdy.”
Chloe moved away from the window. Moments later, the shriek of an alarm pierced the silence.
“Chloe?” My heart pounded in my chest. “What happened? You need to get out of there.”
“It’s too late.” She leaned out the window and dropped the rope, her face pale in the semidarkness. “Someone turned on the system or I’ve triggered one the alarms. The police will be on their way. You need to leave before they get here.”
“No.” I grabbed the rope and threw it up toward her, over and over and over again. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Her face was pale in the moonlight, resigned. “This has nothing to do with you. I was stupid. I didn’t do my due diligence and now I have to pay the price. I won’t drag you into it.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
“The mostly dead man in Rose’s living room had nothing to do with you and yet you showed up with bleach.” I picked up the branch but my hands were shaking too much to tie the rope. Panic fuzzed my brain. I ran for the wall, clawing at the wet, slippery bricks, desperately trying to find a handhold. If she wasn’t coming down, I was going up.
Red and blue lights lit up the trees. Tires screeched. Doors slammed.
“Jump!” Unable to find purchase, I grabbed the bulging suit bag, holding it out as if it would somehow break her fall. My breath burst in and out of my lungs, my face wet with a mix of rain and tears. “I’ll catch you. Fall on me. Please. Please. Just jum—”
A hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my words. Big. Warm. Slightly sweaty and smelling of pine and earth.
Maybe if my brain hadn’t already tipped into sensory overload, I might have reacted differently. I’d taken self-defense training. I’d lasted through six judo classes with my brothers until someone had thrown one of the twins on top of me, and I’d suffered a minor concussion and a fractured arm. I knew what to do when someone grabbed me from behind, but instead of slamming my heel into his instep, twisting, and running away, I froze.
Lights swept over the window above and then Chloe disappeared.
Four
Shhh. I’m not going to hurt you.” My assailant wrapped a strong arm around my middle, pulling me tight against his hard body. Step by careful step, he pulled us back into the thick bushes until I could barely see the window where Chloe had been only seconds from escape. Protected by a canopy of trees, the mini forest was dry despite the rain and fragrant with the sweet scent of the flowers.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
My heart pounded a frantic beat. Seriously? Was I okay?
“Mmmph,” I mumbled with all the sarcasm and indignation I could muster and then I licked his hand, anticipating a reactive jerk of disgust that would free my mouth long enough to scream. Instead, I got a low chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest.
“If I take my hand away, do you promise to be quiet? You can’t help your friend if you get arrested, too.”
I nodded. He moved his hand. I drew in a breath of cool air and let out the energy of my panic-infused brain. “Am I okay? No, I am definitely not okay. My best friend is being arrested for something she didn’t do. I tried to rescue her and failed. My cheap rental apartment flooded, a naked man was mostly dead, I got fired, and now I have to live at home and work with Cristian, whose only goal in life is to get every woman he meets into bed. My parents are desperate to marry me off, and now I’ll be a sitting duck for a parade of losers who can’t find a woman on their own. I eat too much candy and I need to exercise more. I’m wet and cold and on the verge of bankruptcy and a stranger just dragged me into the bushes to do God knows what with me.”
“Anything else I should know?” His voice, calm and quiet, brought my racing pulse down a notch. What the hell was wrong with me? What had happened to my instinctive fight-or-flight response?
“No. That just about sums up the dumpster fire that is my life.”
“Take a breath,” he said.
“A breath?”
“Deep breathing helps reduce anxiety. It’s been proven in medical studies.”
“Do you know what else reduces anxiety?” I struggled against his firm hold—not just because I was desperate to get away from him but because I didn’t understand why he didn’t scare me. “Not being held captive in the bushes. Why don’t you let me go and see how chill I become?”
“I’m saving you from your misguided sense of loyalty and total disregard for your own well-being. The police will be coming back here any moment now, looking for an accomplice.” He tightened his hold, and my stupid brain interpreted his warmth and firm grip as “safety and security” instead of “you’re going to die.”
“Misguided?” I glared over my shoulder, but I couldn’t make out his face in the darkness. “That’s my best friend in there. She’s already gone through more pain than most people experience in a lifetime. Now she’s scared and alone and going to jail, and I’m trapped in the bushes with you.”
“They aren’t bushes,” he said. “The shrub to your left is ninebark. It has a beautiful leaf color, a cinnamon inner bark, and blooms pink in June. It’s best kept trimmed to about five feet, but no one has looked after this garden, which is why this one is over eight feet tall. On your right, you’ve got arrowwood. You might know it as fragrant viburnum. It adds structure to a garden and a wonderful spicy fragrance to your space. Again, lack of pruning is why it has overgrown.”
“Are you a gardener? Is that why you were hiding back here?”
“Gardening is just a hobby,” he said.
“What’s your real job? Kidnapping innocent women? Skulking behind museums?” Something niggled at the back of my brain, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Or are you the thief?”