Chapter three

Cassie

I've been told that people see their lives flash before their eyes just before they kick the bucket. My experience was slightly different. I saw pockets of options just before everything went still.

When the club's back exit slammed shut behind me, and the heavy metal door locked with a final note, I knew they'd found me.

The man who was supposed to be my getaway from hell stepped out of the shadows, blocking the only path to the main street. An emissary from one of my foes, I guessed correctly.

I can take him down, I thought, but that confidence dissipated when two shadows straddled him on both sides, predatory grins breaking through their lips.

He wasn't alone.

And how did I miss the yellow streetlights? No, they weren't switched off. They were all broken.

Shit!

This happens every damn time I go against my instinct.

"Take care of her, my job is done here." The first guy gloated, lighting a cigarette.

He didn't drag me here, I strayed on my feet. Stupid, silly, pompous Cassie.

This was an unauthorized space, which meant no one was going to hear me scream. I'd made it right into their trap. No one was coming for me.

The thought of what could happen to me made my throat dry as I took a step backward into the damp, narrow alley. My heart hammered against my ribs as those pockets of options vanished.

"Hold on, I think there's been a mix up." I said, my voice shaking despite my desperate attempt to keep it level.

"No mistake, sweetheart. We were told to collect you, and we’re getting paid very well to do it."

"By whom?" I quizzed, making a mental note of the number of people who wanted me gone.

I arrived at a handful, which was argh!

"Easy there, hot blood, you'll find out soon." One of the newcomers said with a smug grin, and lunged forward to grab me by the wrist.

I backed up until my shoulders hit the cold brick of the dead-end wall. "Let me pass." I muttered through gritted teeth but he stepped closer, unyielding.

Paralysed, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact— one that would send me six feet to my parents, but it never came.

Instead, what tore my eyelids apart was the deafening sound of a collision and the crunching of a brick wall some distance away.

What followed was a gasp, and then panicked breathing.

My eyes were completely open, staring at what could only have been supernatural.

"What the fuck was that? Who are you?" The guy I'd met at the club yelled into the darkness.

No answer.

Behind us, loud music from the clubhouse blared, drowning every noise and call for help.

When the second guy went down into a pile of steel dumpsters like he weighed nothing, the welfare worker fled like a turtle.

"Who are you?" I asked, when all was calm.

"I thought you'd never ask." A masculine voice answered from the darkness.

Then, a man stepped out of the absolute darkness of the alley's deep end. He was tall, broad shouldered and dangerously handsome.

The moment our eyes locked, the air was suddenly sucked out of my lungs. I was frozen-in-time, and a strange, magnetic pull kept me from looking away. The scent of him; his cologne mixed with the smell of rain, made my head spin. All I wanted to do was step closer to him, snake my fingers across his face, or bury my face on his chest.

He stared at me, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek. I watched the golden flash in his eyes war with a sudden, devastating expression of grief. His hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I nodded gently. "Who are you?" I repeated, wincing inwardly. I was meant to respond and not interrogate him.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. When he opened them again, the vulnerability was gone, replaced by a wall of cold, unyielding ice. He had locked whatever he was feeling inside a cage.

"Who were those guys?" He quizzed instead without saying his name.

I took a few slices of cold air. "Thugs."

"Not surprised. You smell like you pick up trouble everywhere you go." He answered like it was the most natural thing to say.

That wasn't true, but I was too weak to argue.

"There should be more out there," he added, his eyes scanning the darkness.

"Exactly. And I'm supposed to trust you?" I snapped, my voice cold as ice.

"You don't have a choice. Got anywhere else to go?" he threw over his shoulder, already marching towards a waiting Harley I hadn't noticed until just now.

When I didn't respond, he added, "Then you'd better come with me."

***

I climbed onto the back of the bike without asking questions. Oddly enough, there was this silly, unwavering trust in him. The nerve of me to trust a stranger.

"Why are you dressed in this dumb outfit?" He asked, handing me the second helmet.

I looked down at myself and for the first time realized that I looked like the villain. An asymmetrical black jacket over a red bralette, high-waisted mini skirt and chunky black boots were the signature of an antagonist.

"I don't want to talk about it," I stammered, throwing on the helmet.

He let it pass with a knowing smile and oh my gosh that was something. I couldn't help studying the curve of his face as his lips parted into a sexy smile. His eyes glistened from the light reflecting from the moonlight.

"You can look at me all you want, I don't charge."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I caught you staring," he pointed, before putting his helmet on.

Pompous brat. What does he think he is?

"Any place we could crash for the night?" he spoke through the thick fiberglass of his full-face helmet, the barrier dulling the sharp edges of his words.

"I know an inn some distance from here.

Let's stay the night there," I answered, hugging myself against the chill. From the cold, maybe, or from being so close to this stranger.

"Edward," he echoed out of the blue.

"What?"

"My name. It's Edward Knox." He replied, turning to me with the most beautiful eyes.

Those were the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd ever gazed into in my entire life. Enchanting.

I swallowed.

"Cassie. Cassie Jones," I replied, fighting the bolts of lightning speeding through my chest down to my core.

Edward smiled, snapped his visor shut and peeled into the night, totally oblivious to the tug-of-war in between my thighs.

"Edward," I repeated internally, still unable to shake the effect of those piercing blue eyes.

Why does it feel like we've met before?