“Yes.”
“Okay you stay put. I’m sending somebody as soon as I can, but it might take a little bit. There’s a pretty big domestic disturbance going on across town.”
Assured someone was coming, Riley hung up and called Molly Montgomery. Her old boss still owned the building, so whatever was going on up there affected her. From behind the counter, she listened to the phone ring and watched the front windows, waiting to see one of the police cruisers along Pitts Street or a shadowy figure coming out of the alley. Nobody picked up. Riley opted not to leave a message until there was something more definitive to report. No reason to worry her unless something was really wrong.
In the silence, the ticking of the wall clock sounded almost as loud as the intermittent footsteps over her head. The intruder wasn’t making any efforts to be quiet. There were no sounds of stuff being moved. Of course, there might not be any stuff to be moved.
Five minutes dragged into ten that seemed more like weeks. Still no police.
Riley was tired and edgy, and all she really wanted was to head home. But she couldn’t just go with somebody up there. Somebody who was evidently in no particular hurry to leave.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was Wishful, not the big city. Anybody looking for drugs would try to rob the pharmacy directly. It was probably kids, looking for…who knew what. Maybe some kind of love nest or a place to smoke. They’d be more scared of her than she was of them.
Riley swiped the counting spatula from behind the counter. It didn’t have an edge and might have had more in common with a pie server than a knife, but in the dark, it sure as hell looked like a blade and it was better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside and circled around to the side of the building. Slipping cautiously through the access door, she noted that no light shone in the stairwell, but a faint glow spilled out from the partially open door at the top.
Hardly daring to breathe, Riley climbed the stairs, thanking God that the treads were concrete, instead of wood or metal that could creak. At the landing she hesitated, peering inside.
In all the years she’d worked for Molly, she’d never been up here. Hadn’t ever had reason to. Like many of the buildings downtown, the second floor of the pharmacy was an apartment. Or at least it had been at some point in the distant past. In the narrow entryway, wallpaper peeled off in strips. She couldn’t see past the wall to the room beyond. Everything was silent now. No footsteps. No sound of teenagers necking.
Was there another exit? Had whoever broken in managed to get out before she came upstairs?
Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind telling her to turn back around and wait for Wishful PD, Riley clutched her counting spatula tight and eased inside.
No one was in what passed for the living room, which boasted two of the four street-facing windows. A hall branched off at the rear of the room. The only light shone out from a single open door on the wall opposite the windows. Moving as quietly as possible, Riley sneaked over to the door and looked into the room.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Riley shrieked. The spatula fell to the floor as she reached across her body to grip his wrist, acting on long ago training as she tugged her assailant forward, jamming her elbow back into his ribcage, as she ducked and pivoted to twist his arm behind his back. Except that he countered, moving with her, doing something to shift the balance, until it was her arm twisting, her body crumpling.
Terror whitewashed her mind. She lashed out, no finesse, no technique, striking whatever she could reach. Her assailant let out an ooph and wrapped her in a bear hug, pinning her arms. She couldn’t suck in enough breath to scream again.
“Hey, hey! It’s okay! Riley, stop. It’s okay. It’s me! It’s Liam.”
Liam Montgomery. Her one time savior.
Because he meant safety, she let out a sob of relief.
His arms loosened, shifting her to face him, and she couldn’t fight because her legs had turned to noodles and every atom in her body wanted to turn into him and hang on.
“It’s okay. I’ve gotcha.”
Except he didn’t. He hadn’t. Not for twelve years.
She stood on her own now.
Straightening, Riley pushed at the wall of his chest. “Let me go.”
“Just take a minute to catch your breath.”
How the hell was she supposed to catch her breath when he was right there, in all of his big, badass Marine glory? Her heart renewed its frenetic thumping for entirely different, wholly unwelcome reasons. She shoved at him again before she could do something really stupid, like fist her hands in his shirt and drag his mouth to hers to put all this adrenaline to better use.
“Let me go, Liam.”
~*~
Liam could still feel Riley shaking. His instincts shouted to soothe and protect, and he was becoming very aware that the woman in his arms was a long damn way from the girl he remembered. He’d known that, objectively. But seeing with his eyes was a helluva lot different from feeling with his body. Now he knew just how well those exquisite curves of hers fit against all the hard lines of him. And damn him, he liked it.
She shoved again. Liam wasn’t sure her legs would hold her yet, but because he wasn’t positive she wouldn’t try to slug him again, he released her.