“Where are you?” Madeline sounded calm, as usual.
“On MAX. First car. Two stops away.” Anxiety made it hard to breathe. She paused and sucked in stale air but still felt light-headed.
“Ethan Justice is here. I’ll send him to meet your train.”
“Ethan.” Of course! Ethan! Madeline had hired his P.I. agency to investigate the break-in and keep them safe.
Thank You, God.
“Stay on the phone,” Madeline continued. “I’ll give it to him and he can talk to you on his way there.”
As the train slowed for the next stop and passengers stirred, Jennie heard Madeline relay details to Ethan. The doors opened, and she stepped aside to let people pass. Her hooded tail stayed put. His eyes never leaving her, the razor-sharp gaze terrifying.
“I’m on my way, Jen.” Ethan’s voice, warm and familiar, rumbling through the phone, sent relief flooding down her veins, the last reaction she expected for the man she’d walked out on ten years ago.
“He’s after me, Ethan,” she whispered.
“I can’t hear you, Jen. Too much background noise.”
“I don’t want anyone to hear me,” she said a bit louder. “It’ll quiet down in here when we start moving again.”
“I’ll wait.”
That was Ethan. Patient and caring. Coming to the rescue of a woman who’d hurt him. Hurt him badly. And yet here he was. On his way to stop the creep whose scowl said he’d kill her without a second thought.
She shivered, a long shudder working over the length of her body. She wrapped her free arm around her stomach and waited for the train to reach cruising speed. When the car settled into a soft, rhythmic hum, she cupped her hand over her mouth and phone.
“There’s a man,” she said. “He followed me from the fire.”
“Are you sure he followed you?” Ethan breathed fast, as if running.
“Yes. I was shooting pictures as I walked to keep my mind off the break-in. I caught him in the viewfinder a few times. I was already freaked out from hearing about last night so I wondered if he was tailing me.”
She quickly looked to see if he still stood there. Fierce and threatening, he hadn’t moved.
“I got on the closest MAX car,” she went on. “Ran through it and back outside. Then I boarded the next car. He did the same thing.”
Ethan mumbled something she couldn’t make out. A loud exhale followed. “Madeline said something about paint.”
“Red. On his hand and jacket. I didn’t see it until he got close.”
“What’s he doing now?”
She glanced at him again. “Just watching me. But I’m afraid, Ethan.” Saying it aloud sent another shiver down her body. “I think he might have a gun. He hasn’t taken his hand out of his jacket pocket this whole time.”
“Calm down, Jen. Panicking might make him do something crazy.” He paused and she heard him draw in air. “I’m almost there. You should be able to see me soon. I’m wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans.”
As if she needed to know his attire. Even with this creep threatening her life, she’d instantly recognize someone she’d once loved.
“Madeline said you were in the first car,” he continued. “Wave when you see me.”
“Okay.” She peered out the window, searching for the man she hadn’t seen since their amazing summer vacation from college. Hadn’t seen since the night she’d lied and told him that she just didn’t love him and didn’t want to be in a relationship with him anymore.
She’d never forgotten his face that night. Shocked, surprised, but most of all hurt. So hurt. She still felt horrible about lying to him. She had a choice and had taken the easy way out. Rejecting him had seemed less painful than waiting for his rejection when he learned about her past. That would end their relationship anyway, so why wait? So much easier to end things before she fell even more in love with him.
Now he was committed to helping her.
In the distance, she saw him running, dodging people on the busy downtown sidewalk. She took in his lean, wide- shouldered build, square jaw and dark hair cut shorter than she remembered. The white shirt set off his dark coloring, making him look dangerous yet very appealing at the same time.
The train began to slow and she waved to let him know she saw him.
He stood tall and strong where her train would disembark. “Where’s the guy standing in relationship to you?”
She checked to make sure he hadn’t moved. “Behind me. A little to my left. Near the other door.”
“Describe him.”
“Hispanic. Short. Stocky. Wearing a light gray hoodie. He has the hood up.”
The train’s automated voice announced their pending stop and they slowed to a crawl.
“I see him,” Ethan said. “When the doors open, I’ll come forward and I want you to run out and get behind me. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m gonna hang up now to keep my hands free.”
She nodded her understanding and slid her phone into her pocket. His hands came to rest at his sides, as he settled into a centered stance, clearly poised and ready for anything. Probably an unconscious habit from years at the FBI.
She was so thankful for his law-enforcement training. Despite the years they’d been apart, it was immediately obvious how strong and capable he was. He’d probably been a wonderful agent—just as she’d always known he’d be. She wasn’t surprised when she read in the paper that Ethan and his four siblings followed through on their high-school pact. They’d decided to serve in law enforcement to show their appreciation and respect for their adoptive dad, who was a retired cop.
She was surprised, shocked really, when she read the rest of the article about an intruder murdering their adoptive parents. The local police department couldn’t solve the case so the five of them left their jobs to hunt down the killer and then stayed together to form the Justice Agency.
If someone wanted to hurt her, she could think of no better allies than Ethan and his siblings.
Brakes squealed as the train slowed even more. This was it. Time to escape this creep.
Her palms grew moist. She scrubbed them over her jeans, stained and sooty from the six-alarm fire. She glanced back to check on her tail. He was on the move. Slowly inching toward her.
“C’mon, open, open, open,” she whispered to the doors, but kept her eyes on him.
His hand came out of his pocket. Something slid through his palm and between his fingers. Looked like a knife. A switchblade. Closed. But easily opened with a flick of his fingers. He took a few more steps.
The train jerked to a stop. She lost her balance, wobbled and worked to regain her footing. She braced for the attack she feared was imminent.
His footfalls thumped slowly across the metal floor.
Close now. Too close.
Please, God, please! Let me get to Ethan before this guy hurts me.
The doors whooshed apart, but not before she heard a click. Not any click, but the distinctive snap of his switchblade opening a whisper of a space behind her back.
* * *
Ethan bolted forward. He saw the thug move toward