Dangerous Kiss (The Layton Family 1)

She glanced down at the cellphone photo, certain she’d done right by the girl. “Don’t you worry, Kendall. We got him.”

Her attention glued to her prize, Claire turned the corner into the kitchen and tripped. Her knees pounded against the floor. Pain erupted in her kneecaps as violently as an egg exploding in the microwave.

“Shit!”

Dragging in a ragged breath, she looked over her shoulder to see what she’d stumbled over.

Jake lay unnaturally still in the threshold.

The earth stopped spinning as anguish squeezed out the rest of the world. Had he tripped and fallen against the dish rack? That would explain the earlier noise.

Ignoring her aching knees, she crawled over to him. “Jake!”

His eyes remained shut. He didn’t move, not even to flinch at her panicked cry.

The right side of his face appeared red and swollen. A deep gash above his right eye dripped blood onto the floor. She dabbed at the blood, relieved to see him jerk back when she touched his injury.

“Thank God, with all that’s happened you scared me there. Jake, are you okay? Talk to me.” Desperate to elicit a response, she grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

He groaned and blinked, smiling slow and easy. The fear tightening her chest eased a bit. She caressed his cheek and he lifted himself to his elbows. Her heart traveled back from her throat to her chest. She remembered to breathe again.

“What happened?” His words slipped out in a woozy tone. Confusion danced across his face for a moment. Desperation soon replaced it. He grabbed her wrist in a tight squeeze.

“Claire, get out. Get out now.” His words were a hard whisper.

“Wha—”

A throat cleared behind her and an intense and immediate dark haze of terror thickened around her. She jumped up and spun around.

“You’re not going anywhere.” The voice, low and rusty, sent a chill careening up her spine.

She took stock of her enemy. The man was huge, like professional-wrestler big. His shiny bald head sat on top of a nearly nonexistent neck. A diamond stud, at least a carat in size, sparkled in his ear. He clenched an extinguished cigar between his teeth, its foul stink wafting out from his black T-shirt.

But it wasn’t his image that freaked her out the most. No. It was his gaze, unemotional and cold, that told her everything she needed to know.

He’d come here to kill her.

Panic ripped through her body at the realization. Claire bolted for a weapon. She had to protect herself and Jake.

The thug yanked her up by the straps on her dress. He held her so high her feet barely touched the ground. She lashed out. Desperate to escape, she kicked her legs backward. Aiming for his nuts, she only connected with his concrete thighs.

“Hel—”

His hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

She squirmed as he pulled her in, holding her tight against his chest. She tried to elbow him in the ribs, but couldn’t get the leverage. His right arm held her to him in an iron grip, trapping the hand holding the phone and flash drive to her chest.

Terrified, she struggled in his arms but couldn’t get away. Sweat made her arms slick as she twisted and squirmed. She shrieked into the palm covering her mouth. Hysteria filled her. Escape. She had to get out. Her gaze darted around the room, seeking salvation.

Like an answered prayer, Jake pushed himself up and made it to his knees, but the goon leveled a solid kick to his side. He crumpled to the floor.

An adrenaline-fueled frenzy took over Claire’s body. She yanked her arms against the giant’s vise-tight grip. Like a trapped animal, her sole focus became freedom.

“Stop moving or I’ll make it hurt more,” the giant rasped.

His threat intensified her need to break free. She kicked her legs, connecting with his knee. He didn’t even flinch. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake labor to get up. His slow movements gave her hope, provided the impetus to fight on. She flailed against him, but her captor ignored her ineffective jabs and kicks. Instead his gaze locked on Jake.

“Stay down.” The thug kicked him in the head, knocking him to a prone position. “I’ll be back for you.”