Dangerous Kiss (The Layton Family 1)

Damn, he seemed to do that a lot around this woman.

Wrath. Pure, cold wrath overwhelmed Claire’s better judgment. This guy had to be the Voice of Doom. Who else would blow up her car? After she heard Jake’s comment, she tossed her kitten heels to Jorge and took off after the jerk.

Waif thin, the cretin didn’t look as though he had the power to beat a girl to death. The thought of what he had done to Kendall and what he could do to her slowed Claire’s pace for a moment, but righteous fury sped her back up.

She’d be damned if she let some murderer dump a girl’s body at her restaurant, threaten her family, blow up her car and get away with it. If Hank and Jake weren’t going to hightail it after him, she sure would. Letting him roam free meant a constant threat to her family’s safety. She couldn’t live with herself if the Voice of Doom hurt someone because she had missed his call.

But, damn, he ran fast.

The creep pivoted into the alley behind Harvest. He sped toward the railroad tracks a few blocks away. Something hard—she really didn’t want to know what—pierced the bottom of her bare foot. Pain broke her stride, caused her to stumble.

She reeled. Flinging out an arm, she tried to straighten. She couldn’t let him get away. Not when she was so close. Her shoulder banged against a Dumpster, making it throb but jolting herself back to an upright position. Recovering her balance, she ratcheted up her speed. Fear of him getting away spurred her forward.

She offered a silent thank you to her mother, who had forced her to join the track team in high school. Most mornings, she still ran for miles on the gravel side roads off Highway 28. Despite their quick pace, she hadn’t even broken a sweat yet.

Digging deep for an extra burst of power, she pushed forward and got within reach. Hope filled her heart as she reached out. The bastard wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again. Her family would be safe.

Her fingertips brushed the sweat-soaked cotton of his T-shirt, but she couldn’t hold on. He sprinted out of reach, looked back and sneered.

Oh, really? This guy didn’t think she was a threat, huh? He’d learn. When it came to her family, she’d fight until the bitter end.

She blocked out the sound of her brothers hollering behind her as she ran and concentrated on her one goal, taking this guy down. An approaching train’s blaring horn punched its way through her focus, planting an idea for how she could take him out.

One side of the alley dropped off into a short but steep, rocky embankment leading down to the train tracks. If she timed it just right, she could send him flying. Too much of a shove and she could lose her balance too. They could both end up on the train tracks with the engine bearing down on them.

She ignored her doubts and hammering heart. It would work. It had to.

Claire pushed herself to the limit, got within an arm’s reach and launched herself at him. The unexpected impact forced him to stagger forward. Exactly what she wanted. But the momentum sent her with him, tumbling down the stony decline. Helpless to slow her descent, the surface as the world spun.

They rolled across the sharp rocks and slid to a stop just shy of the tracks and the oncoming train. She hurriedly unwrapped her twisted legs from around him, worried they had landed close enough for him to toss her into the train’s path. They bounded up and faced off against each other as a train advanced. The locomotive’s engineer blared his ear-splitting whistle.

Neither Claire nor the killer moved an inch. His nickel-size pupils were so dilated, she couldn’t tell the color of his eyes. The fingers on his right hand twitched as he shifted his weight from side to side and ground his teeth. Drenched in sweat, he leered at her and an icy-cold dread spilled down her spine.

Her anxiety level ratcheted up about twelve notches. She’d seen it before, people tweaking as they came down off their meth high. It was the crack cocaine of the Midwest and he looked like the poster boy.

Not that she probably looked all that sane herself. Blood dripped from her battered elbow, her feet burned and she fought for breath. No way could she overpower him. She had to stall him until her brothers arrived. They’d beat this guy to a pulp. The thought made her downright giddy.

“Who are you and why are you doing this?” Claire hollered over the train clanking on the tracks.

He took a step closer, the stench of gasoline clung to him. “Everybody has bills to pay, Cupcake.” He rushed at her and plowed his fist into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs. He followed the shot with a quick jab to her face that rattled her teeth. Claire went down like a sack of potatoes.

“I want the phone and flash drive,” he screamed down at her flat form, spit bubbling at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t steal them from me. They’re mine. She promised me!”

Gravel bit into Claire’s back like tiny spikes. The rocks jumped and rattled next to her as the train barreled closer. She wanted to get up, but her muscles wouldn’t budge. Her chest heaved up and down in a fruitless attempt to fill her lungs with air. Pain blurred her vision.

When was the cavalry coming? They hadn’t run that far. Would they get here before or after this nut threw her onto the tracks to get scooped up by the train’s cow catcher?

Why did she always react first and think second? She flipped from one possible outcome to another, each worse than the one before.

The sound of her name being yelled rose above the train’s clatter. Thank God. She knew her brothers would come. They always did. She sucked in a painful breath.

This tweaker wouldn’t get away. He’d pay for the damage he’d done. She hooked her arm around his ankle. Yanked. But he didn’t fall. His swift kick to her stomach made her curl up in a spasm of pain. Without much effort, he tugged his leg from her grasp.

The Voice of Doom glanced up toward the alley. “You’ll be seeing me again, Sweetheart.” Then, as if it was no big deal, he jumped the tracks. He made it across right before the train passed.

Hot tears of fear and frustration slid down her cheeks. He’d be back. No doubt about it. If she couldn’t find the phone and flash drive, her family would pay the price.

Claire sat up, slowly, despite her body’s aching protests. The wind from the passing train whipped her hair into a halo of fury around her head.