Punk Rox Warrior (4 page)

“
Holy shit! She’s out!”

Checking her pulse, it was steady, no blood from behind her head.

Shaking his head, he lifted her in his arms, cradling her against the

wide expanse of his chest. He carried her home.

* * * *

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25

After carefully laying her in bed, he left her to go get the first aid

kit he’d seen in the bathroom earlier that day. He remembered

thinking it was the most expansive kit he’d ever seen, but after

witnessing her little stunt in the park, it no longer surprised him that she would need such provisions.

Carrying it back to her bedside, he slowly undressed her. Unlacing

her boots, he had to smile thinking she probably had a lipstick to

match them. Sliding her jeans down her legs, he grimaced at not only

the bloody mess she had made out of her knees but at the true extent

of her bruising. He was amazed she could walk. While unzipping her

hoodie, he slowly turned her body to slip her out of it and pulled up

her tank top so he could examine her. He ran his fingers across the

silken flesh of her torso and his chest clenched with some unknown

emotion as he examined the abused skin on her body. She was one

giant bruise, with eclectic scars scattered about. “What happened to

you?” He groaned softly. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat,

he tenderly cleaned and bandaged her knees. The palms of her hands

weren’t too bad, but that crack on her head would give her a hell of a

migraine come morning. Placing an ice pack under her head, he

flipped the comforter over her body and rose to leave the room. James

paused in the doorframe to glance back at her face, so peaceful, she

looked so innocent. She looked like a little kitten needing protection.

Sighing quietly, he backed out of the room, stamping down the urge

to climb in next to her and hold her close.

Reaching the living room, he plopped himself down on the couch.

He flipped open his phone and called Alton back. He had to get to the

bottom of this situation. This girl was an enigma, wrapped in a riddle.

“HC Enterprises,” Alton answered

“Alton, it’s James. I need you to get her medical records for me,”

he barked quietly.

“Already done, dude. The girl is a mess.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” James sighed, rubbing his hands roughly

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through his hair.

“Well, she’s had several hospital stays for bronchitis. Had to have

her finger reattached at the age of eight.” Clearing his throat, he

continued, “She had four hospital stays due to head injuries that

resulted in concussions and several abuse claims filed by the hospital

administrators.” Sighing heavily, “All were dropped due to lack of

evidence, and all of this happened before she was eighteen years old.”

As James listened, a fury was brewing inside him. He stifled a

growl and tried with desperation to smother the need to hit someone,

something.

“After eighteen there was a reprieve for quite a few years and then

it kicked into high gear. Seven hospital visits for broken ribs, five for contusions to the face, multiple stitches. She’s had several teeth

knocked out, two overnight stays for stab wounds to her torso, and an

appendectomy.” Breathing exhaustedly, James heard him slam the file

down on his desk. “She’s also broken her left leg, her right foot, and

suffered a third-degree burn on her left arm.”

Leaning back roughly on the couch, he groaned. “Jesus Christ!

What kind of hell has she been wading through?”

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Chapter 3

Walking through the apartment, Rainne took her time getting

ready for work. Strolling slowly, sipping her coffee, she smiled at her

freshly painted walls. She loved the color red. She was so proud of

herself for finding the cobalt blue couch at the swap meet. The color

popped out in the space, made her feel almost cheery. She checked

her watch, right on time as always. She had to go to the store for one

of her clients on the way to their house.

As she got out of her car at the store, she started to get a feeling of

panic. Swallowing her fear, she locked her car and proceeded toward

the door. Passing the rear of her vehicle, ‘he’ jumped out, grabbing

the front of her belt and swinging her around, slamming her back into

the car. Pressing his large body against her, he leaned down close to

her, inhaling her scent.

“Hmmm, you always smell so good, my little freak.” She stared

into his face as the fear crawled through her body like a spider. He

wasn’t overly menacing, physically. Seen walking down the street,

you might think he was attractive. He was tall, six feet three inches.

His dark, chestnut brown hair was cut short to make spikes on top,

giving him that just-out-of-bed look. He was thin, but toned like a

swimmer, but his dark green eyes piercing right through her now, that

was menacing. One could almost see the blackness of his heart in

them. “Always look so pretty,” he said with a hiss. “It makes me

wonder how pretty you’d look with a bullet in your head.” With that

he turned on his heel and strolled away.

Rainne rolled off the bed, a scream ripping from her throat.

Crawling desperately across the floor, she backed herself into the

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corner. Pulling her knees close to her chest, she began rocking back

and forth. As she closed her eyes, she started chanting one of her

favorite songs, trying to calm her nerves. She heard the click of a

bullet being loaded into the chamber of a gun and swore her heart

stopped. Rainne gasped, opening her eyes. She froze.

* * * *

James put the phone down and marched through the house,

nothing much to do but lock up for the night. When the scream

pierced the quiet apartment, James grabbed his .357 off the coffee

table and slowly crept toward the bedroom door. Pausing outside the

doorframe, he listened, waiting to hear the sounds of a struggle.

Instead, he heard the smallest voice, barely a whisper. “Only the

strongest will survive. Lead me to heaven, when we die. I am the

shadow on the wall. I’ll be the one to save us all.” Turning the corner, he spied movement. Cocking his weapon, he poised to shoot, pausing

on a pair of big, brown, tearstained eyes staring back at him.

“Rainne, are you okay?” He placed his firearm on the floor and

moved to his knees in front of her. The horror that he saw in her eyes

broke his heart. She looked so lost.

Rainne studied him for a split second, and without warning, she

leaped into his arms, sobbing. “Just hold me!” she cried. “I’m sorry!

Please just hold me. It was so real. I could feel him…” Her

proclamation broke off as she broke down in his arms crying.

James stilled. He had to admit this wasn’t something he had

experience with. He sat Indian style on the floor, pulling her onto his

lap, and held her tight. “Shush now,” he crooned, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. You’re safe.” He calmed her, trying to ignore the

painful bulge in his pants. Tried to ignore his body’s need to take her

right here on the floor. Nothing good could come from him scaring

her. Despite her tough outer exterior, she was fragile. Burying his face in her hair, he rocked her gently. After several seconds or a few hours,
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he couldn’t be sure, she stiffened. Jumping to her feet and grabbing a

robe off a nearby chair, she proclaimed, “I need coffee.” Padding out

of the room, just like that, she was gone, and the wall was back.

* * * *

Jerking the belt closed on her robe, Rainne paced impatiently in

front of the coffeemaker, mentally slapping herself.
Stupid, stupid,
stupid,
she yelled at herself.
Why did I do that? God, how humiliating.

He probably thinks that I was trying to seduce him, not that I would
even know how. Shit. Could he tell how wet I am? Probably. I

probably left a puddle on his lap.
She groaned mentally while pouring herself a cup of coffee and moving quickly to the table.

James came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup. Sitting

down across from her, he said, “I think we need to take this

opportunity to talk.”

Rainne flushed.
God, where is a hole to climb into when I n
eed
one?
“I’m really sorry about that. I’m not a big fan of human contact.

I don’t know what came over me.” She laughed nervously.

* * * *

Keeping his face emotionless, he cleared his throat.
God, I’m not

sorry about that. You fit into my arms like you were custom-made to

be there. The only thing I am sorry about is your quickness to throw
that wall up at me.
He put the thought out of his head. She was a job.

She couldn’t be anything more than that. From the size of that wall

she’d built for herself, she had no intention of being a part of

anyone’s life. “Actually, I was referring to the other situation. I need some information to help me find this guy.”

Glancing up from her cup, she smiled. “Sure. Shoot. My life is an

open book.”

“Your mother told me that you know your stalker and you’re

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Rachel Cron

refusing to cooperate with the sheriff’s department.” He breathed out

heavily.

Gently setting down her cup, she rolled her eyes. “Boy, I could

build the Great Wall of China with the bullshit my mother tells people

about me.”

“So you really don’t know him?” he asked, surprised.

“Hell no! The only thing I know is that he’s creepy!” she stated,

wide-eyed. “He showed up about six months ago. I would see him at

the club. I thought he was just a fan. Soon after, he started showing up at the grocery store, or I would see him walking by my building. I was

always nice to him, but he gives me the creeps.” She shivered slightly

and continued, “A few weeks ago he approached me in a parking lot

and asked me out on a date. I told him no, that I wasn’t looking to

date right now. He was angry. He said that I would regret rejecting

him. He said that I needed him and just didn’t know it. The next time

I saw him was my mother’s party.”

Leaning forward on his elbows, he said, “So what else has your

mother told me that isn’t true?” He was a master at knowing when

people were lying, and Rainne hadn’t lied to him yet.

Staring up at the ceiling, thinking, she said, “Well, let’s see. How

old did she say I was?”

“Thirty-nine. She said you were getting ready to turn forty.” He

had to admit that that was one of the more confusing points. If she

was almost forty, she couldn’t be a drug addict unless she had plastic

surgery. Her face was so young looking, no wrinkles or bags.

Snorting loudly, she startled at the noise, covering her mouth, and

blushed, deeply. “Wow! Carol’s getting crazier!” Getting up from her

seat, she went across the room and rummaged through her purse.

Slapping her hand loudly on the table and then throwing herself back

into her seat, she asked with an amused look, “How do ya like them

apples?”

James looked down. It was her driver’s license. “January twenty-

first, 1979?” he asked, confused.

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“Yeah! I just turned thirty last month,” she said, giggling. “Carol

never did remember how old I was. She’s a drunk. Her memory is

shot. Let me guess. She had a lady named Sara with her when she

came to hire you?”

James nodded.

“Sara is her assistant. Her memory, if you will. My mom used to

be really capable, but after the accident, she started drinking. She’s

never been Mom of the Year, but no one deserves to carry around that

kind of guilt,” she stated sadly.

* * * *

Looking at his face, she could tell he didn’t have a clue of what

she was talking about, so continuing, she said, “About ten years ago

my parents were out for the night. It was raining, and my mom was

driving. She lost control of the car, and my dad was killed. She spent

the next year having surgery and doing physical therapy. She

recovered, but now she drinks like a fish.”

James folded his arms across his chest and asked, “So what else?”

“Well, I don’t do drugs. My mom caught me smoking pot when I

was seventeen and from then on…” She trailed off with a shrug. “I

stopped smoking pot when I moved out. Couldn’t afford it.” She

grinned.

Regarding her through narrowed eyes, he asked, “So, what about

the sex? Your mother seems to be under the impression that you’re

having orgies with your bandmates, and random people you

encounter.”

Rainne jerked, almost choking on her mouthful of coffee. “Well,

being that my sex life is none of her business, I don’t see how it

matters.” Cocking her eyebrow, she flashed him a mock smile.

Keeping his voice low, almost menacing, he stated, “If you are

sleeping around, that could be your guy’s trigger, jealousy.” He then

returned her mock smile before getting up to refill his cup.