“No one likes furniture or grocery shopping.” And in her experience, especially men.
He just shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders and she knew insisting she wanted to go by herself was an argument she’d lose. The truth was, the thought of spending the morning with Grant was wildly appealing. So much so, she was starting to worry a little about what she’d gotten herself into.
Belle peered out the window of Grant’s kitchen into his expansive backyard. His giant pool glistened under the afternoon sun. Sparkly and oh so cool. It practically beckoned to her. Florida was notoriously humid and even though they lived near the Atlantic, sometimes the heat was smothering. Of course she was inside where the air conditioning was blessedly running overtime, but she wanted to test out his pool in a bad way.
After hours of shopping—and spending way too much of her savings on furniture and kitchen stuff—she and Grant had returned home to find men waiting for her to let them in to install her brand new security system. They were still next door covering all her doors and windows with sensors, even the ones upstairs, which seemed a little excessive, but Grant had been insistent. She’d tried broaching the subject of paying him again but he’d been completely dismissive. If her sexy neighbor hadn’t been such a good shopping companion all morning she might have pushed him a little harder. But the thought of arguing with Grant left her feeling cold.
So now she was stuck inside Grant’s house because he’d been called away by one of his brothers. Some family emergency that he hadn’t wanted to talk about. But his grave expression had told her that family was the only thing that would have taken him away. She appreciated everything he was doing for her even if it did make her feel a little uncomfortable, but she just wanted to go home.
Some random guy had tried to break into her house. It wasn’t as if she had a stalker or anything. The more time that passed the better she felt about the whole situation. Yes, it still freaked her out that someone had wanted to rob her or possibly worse. And she was thankful for the new sense of security, but it wasn’t necessary to stay cooped up in Grant’s house in broad daylight until he returned home. That was definitely overkill and if she let this man start running roughshod over her now it would never end. It’s not like they were even in a relationship, but she could envision that as a possibility, and she couldn’t let him make decisions for her.
She’d only recently stood up to her own family. With so many health and heart problems growing up, she understood why they’d been so over-protective but at twenty-four, it had been time to move out. At first her mother had been horrified—and though she wouldn’t admit it, secretly impressed when Belle had put a big down payment on her new house with her own money—but eventually her mom and the rest of the family had come around. It wasn’t like they could keep her a freaking prisoner.
Which was sort of how she felt now. Being trapped in this strange house brought up too many familiar negative feelings. Giving the pool a longing look, she made a decision. She hurried next door and politely announced her presence to the men working, and tried not to stare at the man with the mohawk, piercings and numerous tattoos because if he worked for Red Stone and Grant trusted him, then she would too. He didn’t give her the creeps, he was just visually intimidating as hell and she’d had a rough enough night.
After packing a small bag with her bathing suit, sunscreen lotion and a change of clothes, she headed back to Grant’s. She was still doing what he said, but getting in a few laps and stretching her legs couldn’t harm anything. It was the middle of the day and she had full visibility of his entire backyard. Unlike hers with tons of bushes and places to hide, his was wide open.
She quickly changed into her checkered green and blue two-piece bathing suit then pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail. The moment she descended the short set of stairs into the shallow end, she pushed out a sigh of relief. The cool water lapped against her bare legs, then stomach until she fully immersed herself. Yeah, this was exactly what she’d been craving.
Doing the breast stroke, she cut through the water with even, steady strokes, hitting the wall at the deep end, then returning to the shallow end. Over and over, she kept swimming until her muscles burned.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the pool but the warm sun beating on her back and her tired body told her it was time to get out. As she reached the wall in the deep end, she was ready to push off for her last lap when she glimpsed a masked figure in her line of sight. She blinked trying to get the water out of her eyes when strong hands shoved her under.
Belle tried to suck in a breath but pulled in water, burning her nose and throat. Choking and thrashing around, she grasped at the forearms of the man holding her under water. And there was no doubt it was a man. His hands were really strong and holy shit, she was going to die. The thought registered clearly in her fogged mind.
She kicked out her legs but wasn’t close to reaching the bottom. Terror burst inside her as she continued to struggle. A raw kind of fear slithered into her bloodstream. Her toes connected with the wall, the pain jarring her straight to her bones.
Reaching up she grasped onto the man’s forearm and raked her fingers down his skin. She could feel his entire body jolt at that. She inwardly cheered that she’d injured him.
One of his hands loosened. Before she could strike again, she was jerked above the surface. Sucking in a breath, she struggled to see her attacker but a hard fist connected with her jaw. A kaleidoscope of colors burst behind her eyelids as pain ricocheted through her.
Everything went fuzzy, but at least she could breathe. Then she was once again submerged into the cool depths. She tried to scratch him again but he kept pushing her down farther and farther. She couldn’t get a grip on him, the wall, nothing.
Despair welled inside her as she began losing consciousness. She fought it, her brain screaming at her to hang on, fight harder, but she couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been submerged but her lungs burned and ached with pressure. With the desperate need for oxygen.
Darkness edged her vision and her eyes slowly drifted shut. The hands on her shoulders loosened and she started sinking. Deeper, deeper, her body floated weightless. Then a sharp tug on her arm jerked her back closer to consciousness but she couldn’t open her eyes.
She was being propelled upward. In the distance she heard a man shouting. At her? She couldn’t tell. There was another male voice. This one sounded like it was coming from a tunnel.
Someone opened her mouth and put their lips over hers. The rush of air into her lungs had her gasping for breath. Despite feeling like sandbags weighed on her eyelids she cracked her eyes open.
She thrashed out, rolling over as she coughed up water onto the concrete. Her palm slapped against it once as she tried to steady herself, but her stomach heaved and her nose burned as she spit out more water.
The guy with the mohawk was dripping wet and crouching next to her, concern on his face. “Are you okay?”
Turning so she could fully see him, she blinked once and nodded. Slowly moving her head, she attempted to look at her surroundings. Mohawk must have pulled her from the pool and laid her by the edge. The other technician was kneeling about a foot away from her head, his expression just as worried.
“What…happened?” she croaked, her voice raspy, throat raw and burning from the chlorine.
Mohawk’s expression darkened and he exchanged a look with his partner before looking back at her. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve called the cops and—”
“What happened?” she demanded as she tried to sit up. Her heart thudded overtime.
The moment she shifted, pain shot through her jaw, reminding her she’d been punched. And her feet hurt something fierce. Her toes were raw and bloody but she tried to ignore them. She wanted answers.
Sighing, the dripping man put an arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up straight. “Think you can stand?” he asked softly.
She nodded but when she tried to get up, even with his help, her knees gave way. God, she felt like such a wimp but her body just refused to obey. It was like her limbs were made of boiled linguini.
Cursing, the guy scooped her up and strode toward Grant’s patio table and chairs. Gently he set her down on one of the cushioned chairs. Then he hovered and stared at her as if he was afraid she’d break.
“What’s your name?” she finally asked.
For a moment he looked confused, as if she’d stunned him. “What?”
“Uh, name? I can’t keep calling you Mr. Mohawk in my head,” she said then wished she’d remembered to turn her filter on.
The guy’s eyes widened as he let out a bark of laughter. “Uh, I’m Travis Sanchez and this,” he motioned to the tall black man in the same uniformed shirt who’d been quiet, “is Vincent Hansen.”
She nodded at both of them as an uncontrollable shiver raked through her. Hating the lack of control she suddenly experienced, she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to still her shaking but it was impossible. “What happened? And where’s Grant?” Her teeth chattered so she clenched her jaw, aiming for more control.
Travis sat down in a chair across from her, but Vincent disappeared into Grant’s house. “Some guy with a black mask tried to drown you. I saw someone jump Grant’s fence while I was working on one of the windows. I got here as soon as I could. We managed to scare him off but—God, if I hadn’t been working on that side of the house…” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Belle reached out and patted his other hand shakily, feeling a little foolish at comforting him when her insides felt as if they’d split apart any second now. What the hell was happening? Someone had tried to drown her? Why? “I scratched the guy,” she blurted as the horrifying experience played over in her head.
Travis’s head snapped up at her words. “Good. Don’t wash your hands. When the paramedics and detectives arrive we’ll have them take samples. Maybe you got his DNA.”
“Paramedics? I don’t need to see anyone.” She just wanted a hot bath then some dry clothes. And to get warm. Despite the sunshine, her teeth were chattering, her skin covered with goose bumps.
But Travis wasn’t listening. He stood when Vincent approached, having retrieved a handful of towels. She sat numbly while he wrapped one around her. Tugging it tighter against her shoulders, she desperately tried to digest everything that had just happened while fighting the sudden onslaught of tears. More than anything, she just wished Grant was here. Had they called him? She wanted to ask, but knew if she opened her mouth again, tears would soon follow. While she really did love her family and knew they only wanted what was best for her, she knew they’d try to pack her up and move her back to her parent’s home if she called them. Grant wouldn’t do any of that. He always seemed so in control over every situation and right now she wouldn’t mind some of his strength.
When men in uniform stormed the backyard she flinched when she realized she knew one of the paramedics from work. Great. The last thing she wanted was for the entire hospital to know her business.
Even worse, Grant was going to think she was some sort of lunatic who’d dumped all this drama into his life. She knew that was the last thing on earth she should be worried about, but the thought accosted her nonetheless. As one of the paramedics sat in front of her and began asking her questions, she fought back the tears that wanted to escape and focused all her attention on answering coherently. The last thing she was doing was going to the hospital and she knew that either the paramedics or one of the detectives she’d seen milling around the pool would try to push the issue.
Jeez, it was like they’d called out everyone from the Miami Police Department. Yeah, Grant was definitely going to regret talking to his new neighbor now. And she really couldn’t blame him.
* * * * *
Grant jerked his truck to a halt as he hit the curb in front of his house. A handful of black and whites with their lights on were in his driveway and in Belle’s. There was also an ambulance and Carlito’s car along the curb. As he stormed across his front yard a rookie who looked like it was his first day out of the academy tried to stop him by holding out a hand.
“I live here,” Grant snarled, bypassing the guy and ignoring his protests. As he reached the front door it flew open. Carlito’s face was grim, making Grant’s heart seize. Travis had called him and told him Belle was okay, but his former partner looked like death. “What the fuck is it? Is she hurt?”
“Nothing that won’t heal. Her jaw, shoulders and neck are bruised. Her feet are a little raw, but she’ll be fine. Physically anyway,” Carlito talked as they hurried through his house. “She scratched the guy though. Got enough to run his DNA.”
Grant paused, sucking in a deep breath. That was actually good news even if he hated that the guy had been close enough for her to touch. Travis had told him a masked man—just like last night—had tried to drown Belle. In
his
pool. What the hell was going on? And why had Belle been outside in the first place?
Sidestepping a paramedic walking through his back door, he scanned his backyard in seconds, quickly narrowing in on Belle. She sat with a giant blanket wrapped around her on one of his patio chairs. She was talking to Travis but her face was pale. When she saw him her eyes lit up. The sight was like a punch to the gut. She lifted a hand, half-waving, and her blanket fell open revealing that she was wearing a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. Okay, it was actually more than decent but he froze at all that skin.