Page 17 of Theirs to Corrupt
“Forget them,” he snaps, practically lifting me off my feet as he yanks open the car door and shoves me inside.
The sudden shift from danger to relative safety leaves me dizzy and disoriented.
Through the tinted windows, I watch Pax take down the remaining assailant with brutal efficiency. A part of me is horrified by the violence, but another part—a part I’m not proud of—feels a grim satisfaction seeing my would-be attackers subdued.
Just when I think it’s over, a van screeches into the lot, and more men pour out, heading straight for Pax. “We’ve got to help him!”
Ignoring me, Link slides into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life
Pax doesn’t hesitate. He meets the new attackers head-on, his movements precise, powerful.
Each strike calculated and effective, he takes down one after another.
One of the men gets a punch in, and I scream in horror.
Pax barely flinches, retaliating with a blow that sends the attacker sprawling.
Sirens pierce the night air, growing louder with each passing second.
The men freeze, their gazes darting toward the source of the noise.
Link glances back at me. “Stay down.” He revs the engine, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
Through the rearview mirror, I watch Pax finish off the last of the attackers, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion.
The remaining men retreat, jumping into the van and gunning the engine, fishtailing as police approach.
Link lowers the window, and Pax walks over. “I’ll handle the authorities and let Marge know what happened.”
Link nods.
“Meet you back at home.”
“Tessa lost her keys.”
“Roger that.”
With a nod, Link smoothly accelerates, leaving the lot before law enforcement arrives.
“Oh God,” I whisper, slumping back against the leather seat. “Oh God, oh God.” My whole body is trembling now that the adrenaline has worn off, and I’m left hollow and wrung out. Tears threaten to spill, but I furiously blink them back. I haven’t shed a single tear since this whole thing started, even when I boarded a bus and found my way to a shelter, and I refuse to now.
“Breathe,” Link orders, his eyes never leaving the road as he expertly navigates through sparse traffic.
His matter-of-fact tone snaps me out of my panic. I force myself to inhale, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest. As my pulse steadies, a new fear takes hold. Why were they in the parking lot?
My head snaps up, and I blink. He’d called me Tessa.
How does he know my real name?
“You’re safe,” he says softly, as if he’s read my mind.
Safe.
Am I? Or have I just traded one danger for another? “Thanks for the rescue, but you can take me home now.”
“You’re not going back to your place.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Merritt.” Despite the fact the car is moving, I reach for the door handle. All I need is a stoplight…