Baddest Bad Boys(69)

Instantly hysterical, she kicked, struggled, but her attacker had the advantage in size and strength. Fear fouled the air in her lungs as she realized there were two of them. Someone inside and another outside. The thought of what they had in mind made her feel nauseous. Rape. Murder. She had to fight, get away—

“Ellie, it’s me.”

The voice—the same husky whisper from her dreams—brought relieved tears to her eyes. Max. Her body sagged against his. What was he doing here?

“I need you to remain silent,” he breathed against her ear. “We’re not alone.” His grip tightened reassuringly now. “Nod if you understand and I’ll let you go.”

She nodded. Once he released her, she faced him. He had tugged her back into a corner. As always, she felt affected by his mere presence. The man dominated space, changed the dynamics of gravity. At six-three, he towered over her. His long, dark hair, normally tied back, was loose. Wet from the rain, it was plastered to the side of his face. In the shadowy moonlight, the gleaming scar above his eye gave him a sinister look, like a dark, avenging angel. Il Diavolo.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Is he still inside?”

She nodded and pointed. “Upstairs.”

A volley of thunder and lightning had Max glancing at the sky. He pressed a set of car keys into her palm. “Outside the gate is a black SUV. Lock yourself in. My security people are en route.”

She grabbed his forearm. “Where are you going?”

At first she didn’t think he’d answer, then he cupped her chin. “I don’t want whoever’s inside to get away.”

“But what if he’s armed? Or there’s more than one person?”

“I’ll handle it.” Dropping his arm, he stepped back. “Now, go. This storm’s going to get a lot worse.”

As if he’d commanded it, the rain intensified. Ellie took a few steps away, then turned back. She had wanted to remind Max to be careful, but he had already disappeared. Clenching the keys in her fist, she started running toward the driveway, her head bowed to keep the rain out of her eyes.

Just as she reached the gate she heard someone shout her name. She slowed, spun around. A tall figure—a man—burst out of the dark and ran straight toward her. Too late, she realized it wasn’t Max.

Terrified, she took off. The man cut across the yard and leaped out in front of her. She skidded to a stop. Even in the gloom she could make out that a black ski mask covered his face. She met his eerie gaze and in that brief moment, his teeth flashed white, his lips curving in a macabre smile.

“Not so fast, Ella-baby.” He lunged forward, his fingers brushing her shoulder.

She staggered backwards, unable to look away. Ella-baby was the nickname her cyber-stalker used.

He made another swipe for her arm. She feinted left, then immediately darted in the opposite direction, focused on getting back to the house. Rain sliced downward, stinging her skin. Barely able to see, she tore diagonally through the flower garden. She shoved a tiered stone birdbath sideways, hoping to slow him. She heard the man swear as he tripped.

She pushed ahead, increasing her lead. Where was Max? Was he still inside? Had he been injured? Her feet slipped in the mud. She flailed her arms and recovered her balance, but the momentary delay allowed her attacker to close in. This time he grabbed the back of her robe.

“Gotcha!” he snarled.

“No!” Frantic, Ellie yanked the tie at her waist. The robe slipped off her shoulders. Free, she sprinted toward the garage. There was no way she could outrun this man. She needed to hide.

Max burst from around the side of the house, nearly colliding with her. “Ellie! I’m here.”

Relief had her knees buckling. She glanced over her shoulder, unable to spot her assailant. “He’s out there!”

“I’ll handle it. Go!” Max gave her a slight shove and disappeared.

Pushing forward, Ellie rounded the side of the garage. A sharp pain shot up her left leg as something sliced into her foot. Biting back a scream, she collapsed against the house, breathing hard. She tried to put weight on her heel, but couldn’t. Whatever she’d stepped on was still there.

Jagged prongs of lightning slashed down from the sky, giving her a momentary snapshot of the scene. Her attacker was running down the long expanse of driveway with Max in pursuit. Then darkness swallowed them.

Her heart slammed in her chest. If something happened to Max—She looked around. Overhead was a small garage window. If she could get inside, maybe she could find something to use as a weapon.

She moved behind the bushes to get closer, but still couldn’t reach the window. Rainwater poured off the roof and onto her back, shockingly cold. Frustrated, she moved away. Then she heard Max shout her name. She turned back toward the drive.

“Over here,” she called, realizing he couldn’t see or hear her.

Waving her arms, she took a step and cried out. Even the lightest pressure on her injured foot sent pain up her leg.

Max was beside her in a moment. His hand closed around her upper arm, supporting her. “You’re hurt!”

“I don’t think it’s serious.” She balanced on one foot. “A cut. Did you catch him?”

“No. The bastard made it to his car and got away.”