heart attack.
The heat of humiliation crept up her neck. Hugging her arms tight across her chest she glanced around the car park and started walking. She didn’t hear anything except the sea, but she gripped her keys like a weapon, just in case.
What she needed was a real boyfriend, one who walked her home before spending the entire night cozied up in her bed.
Merciless wind blasted her face and she tucked her nose into the raised collar of her coat, stepping onto the path that ran along the seafront. There was a streetlight farther along the path, an amber beacon. She walked faster toward it.
Crack!
Tracy jolted into the air, dropping her keys. She grabbed her chest where her heart banged against her ribs. What the hell was that? Shit! Then she started laughing. It was just a branch slapping the windows of the Gatty, shadows lashing in the mist.
Shaking her head, Tracy bent to pick up her keys. A shoe scuffed the pavement behind her an instant before white-hot pain exploded in her skull. The sound of crunching bone shocked her even as her knees gave out and she fell to the ground.
Icy dew soaked her clothes. Instinct kept her moving, despite her injuries, despite the sharp tang of blood in her mouth. She rolled. Over the grass, then out of control down the short slope toward the beach. The lip of the seawall jarred her to a stop, the pain in her head excruciating, as if someone had bashed her brains with a red-hot poker.
“Please. Help.”
She tried to scream, but her voice came out like a kitten drowning. A foot gave her a shove and for a moment she hovered, weightless, before she smashed into cold sand below. Grit got in her mouth. She spat it out.
She couldn’t stop shaking. Terror froze all thought except survival, but she couldn’t make her muscles work. Each beat of her heart pumped blood from her body, but she refused to die. She would not die before she’d got what she wanted out of this damned life. A scream of fury and frustration roared through her mind, but her vocal cords didn’t work. She couldn’t get enough breath.
She twisted onto her belly and began to crawl even though it hurt . Sand was smooth and cool between her fingers. She dragged herself forward, sweat pouring off her forehead, arms shaking with exertion. Then running shoes appeared before her and she stopped, raising her head to look at her attacker. It didn’t make any sense.
Her life was cursed. “Why? Why me?”
“Because nobody cares about you.”
That awful truth punched Tracy as hard as any blow. She was going to die and nobody would care. The hammer came toward her—death in slow motion—and she could do nothing but watch.
Chapter Five
Nick sat in the car, his gut churning like a combine. He’d done worse things in his time, scarier things, but they hadn’t made him feel this wretched. He put his fingers on his lips feeling the murmur of betrayal that had crossed his mouth. He’d wanted to keep kissing Susie Cooper until dawn broke.
Instead he’d stolen her wallet.
He flipped open the turquoise suede. Ignored the ID card with Susie’s smiling face staring up at him from the clear plastic window. He pulled out a slim electronic keycard that opened the front door of the Gatty Marine Lab. Lily had one identical. Dropping the wallet to the passenger seat, he started the engine and noticed a light was still burning in Emily Heathcote’s cottage.
Did she have trouble sleeping at night too?
He tossed the keycard onto the dash and started driving. Tried to ignore the fact his fingers itched in a way they hadn’t itched in a long time. He didn’t like the knowledge he’d had to force himself to let go of Susie Cooper once he’d finally got his hands on her. He’d been tempted to go for goal and abandon his scheme for another night, but it had already waited twelve long years.
Father Mike—the man who’d raised him after he escaped his mother’s hellhole—always told him he had too much pride. As a teen he
The heat of humiliation crept up her neck. Hugging her arms tight across her chest she glanced around the car park and started walking. She didn’t hear anything except the sea, but she gripped her keys like a weapon, just in case.
What she needed was a real boyfriend, one who walked her home before spending the entire night cozied up in her bed.
Merciless wind blasted her face and she tucked her nose into the raised collar of her coat, stepping onto the path that ran along the seafront. There was a streetlight farther along the path, an amber beacon. She walked faster toward it.
Crack!
Tracy jolted into the air, dropping her keys. She grabbed her chest where her heart banged against her ribs. What the hell was that? Shit! Then she started laughing. It was just a branch slapping the windows of the Gatty, shadows lashing in the mist.
Shaking her head, Tracy bent to pick up her keys. A shoe scuffed the pavement behind her an instant before white-hot pain exploded in her skull. The sound of crunching bone shocked her even as her knees gave out and she fell to the ground.
Icy dew soaked her clothes. Instinct kept her moving, despite her injuries, despite the sharp tang of blood in her mouth. She rolled. Over the grass, then out of control down the short slope toward the beach. The lip of the seawall jarred her to a stop, the pain in her head excruciating, as if someone had bashed her brains with a red-hot poker.
“Please. Help.”
She tried to scream, but her voice came out like a kitten drowning. A foot gave her a shove and for a moment she hovered, weightless, before she smashed into cold sand below. Grit got in her mouth. She spat it out.
She couldn’t stop shaking. Terror froze all thought except survival, but she couldn’t make her muscles work. Each beat of her heart pumped blood from her body, but she refused to die. She would not die before she’d got what she wanted out of this damned life. A scream of fury and frustration roared through her mind, but her vocal cords didn’t work. She couldn’t get enough breath.
She twisted onto her belly and began to crawl even though it hurt . Sand was smooth and cool between her fingers. She dragged herself forward, sweat pouring off her forehead, arms shaking with exertion. Then running shoes appeared before her and she stopped, raising her head to look at her attacker. It didn’t make any sense.
Her life was cursed. “Why? Why me?”
“Because nobody cares about you.”
That awful truth punched Tracy as hard as any blow. She was going to die and nobody would care. The hammer came toward her—death in slow motion—and she could do nothing but watch.
Chapter Five
Nick sat in the car, his gut churning like a combine. He’d done worse things in his time, scarier things, but they hadn’t made him feel this wretched. He put his fingers on his lips feeling the murmur of betrayal that had crossed his mouth. He’d wanted to keep kissing Susie Cooper until dawn broke.
Instead he’d stolen her wallet.
He flipped open the turquoise suede. Ignored the ID card with Susie’s smiling face staring up at him from the clear plastic window. He pulled out a slim electronic keycard that opened the front door of the Gatty Marine Lab. Lily had one identical. Dropping the wallet to the passenger seat, he started the engine and noticed a light was still burning in Emily Heathcote’s cottage.
Did she have trouble sleeping at night too?
He tossed the keycard onto the dash and started driving. Tried to ignore the fact his fingers itched in a way they hadn’t itched in a long time. He didn’t like the knowledge he’d had to force himself to let go of Susie Cooper once he’d finally got his hands on her. He’d been tempted to go for goal and abandon his scheme for another night, but it had already waited twelve long years.
Father Mike—the man who’d raised him after he escaped his mother’s hellhole—always told him he had too much pride. As a teen he
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