Angel: A Linear Tactical Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 3

  And heard the snickering before she even rounded the corner of her porch.

  Allan Godlewski was sitting on her rocking chair, studying his nails as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Hey, Jordan,” he said without looking up.

  She’d dealt with Allan before. He didn’t live in Oak Creek but was friends with a couple of the guys in town. Last time she’d seen Allan, he’d been hanging around Adam DiMuzio, even though Adam was still in high school, and Allan was closer to her age.

  She was pretty sure both Adam and Allan were the driving force behind Project Crap On Jordan’s House. They’d also “accidentally” bumped into her a couple of times and made her drop the grocery bags she’d been carrying, as well as regularly letting the air out of her tires.

  Her father had stolen a lot of money from the DiMuzios, she could understand Adam’s behavior. His family had almost lost New Brothers, their pizza restaurant in town—and the place where Jordan had worked a few hours a week on weekends in high school. She’d never forget the look in Mr. DiMuzio’s eyes when he fired her after everyone had realized her father had run with the money and was never coming back.

  But she’d hadn’t met Allan until recently. She had no idea why he was harassing her.

  “Get off my property before I call the cops and have you arrested.”

  He looked up, his face the very picture of innocence in the waning sunlight. “Arrest me for what? Checking on a neighbor when I saw that a large rock had been thrown through a window?”

  “First of all, we are not neighbors. You don’t even live in Oak Creek. Second of all, how exactly do you know it was a large rock that went through the window unless you’re the one who threw it?”

  His eyes narrowed as he ran a hand through his brownish-blond hair that either had way too much styling product in it or was just greasy. Either way, it was disgusting.

  He stood up. “Well, that little slip would just be your word against mine, wouldn’t it? I wonder who the cops would believe.”

  “It’s been a long day. You’ve had your fun. Just go.” Where was his car parked? She lived far enough outside of town to be surrounded by forest and wilderness, so he must have parked somewhere else and walked through the trees to get here. The fact that he didn’t want any traces of his vehicle on her land did not reassure her. She stayed where she was on the bottom step.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t come here to start a fight. Things are about to change in this town, Jordan.”

  “Change how?” She grimaced as he leaned on the column and spit chewing tobacco over the side of her railing.

  “Never mind that. I’m here to talk about my offer.”

  “And what offer is that?”

  He smiled and sauntered a couple steps toward her. “The one where you and me hook up, and I take care of you, baby.”

  She fought the urge to laugh. She knew firsthand that Allan didn’t like to be laughed at. Last time she’d made that mistake, he’d grabbed her arm so hard that she’d had bruises for days afterward.

  He gave her what was supposed to be a charming smile. But when he stepped closer, she stepped back.

  “Come on, Jordan, don’t be that way.” He ran his fingers through that greasy hair again. “I’ve been on the inside. I know how hard it is. I mean, maybe girly prison is different, but I know you have fires that need to be put out. I’m the man to scratch them.”

  Explaining a mixed metaphor to him would probably be a lost cause. “As tempting as that offer may be, I’m going to have to pass. My fires and itches are just fine as they are.”

  All traces of Allan’s attempted charm flew from his face. “You know, you’re pretty uppity for someone everybody hates. Adam says his dad talks all the time about how your family nearly ruined his life. If you get with me, maybe I can talk them into letting bygones be bygones, you know? A sort of payment plan.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Again, going to have to pass. I’m not great with payment plans.”

  He took another step closer, sneering. “I can’t even figure out why you even stick around here if you’re not trying to get a little action.”

  She wasn’t surprised Allan didn’t understand. Nobody understood her need to come back here.

  But nobody had been around all those years she and her mom had walked through the woods together, when her mother had told her stories about the people—the women—in her family who had forged a life out of this harsh, beautiful territory, surviving when nobody had thought they would.

  She was going to survive too. She didn’t need the people of Oak Creek to like her or forgive her, not that they were ever going to.

  “I’m not interested in action. I just want to be left alone.” She prayed he’d listen to her. She continued to move back as he moved forward. She was almost to her truck.

  “I think you’re just playing a little hard to get. But that’s okay, Allan doesn’t mind helping you get over your shyness.” Now, he spit the entire wad of chewing tobacco on the ground and smiled at her.

  Most of her life, Jordan had loved how isolated her house was. Even when she’d lived here alone when she was in high school, she’d never minded it.

  But right now, she wished she lived in the middle of town where someone could hear her if she screamed.

  She held an arm out in front of her.

  “Allan.” She looked him directly in the eye. “This is not a game. I’m not flirting or playing hard to get. I don’t want this. You need to leave. If you don’t, what you’re trying to do will be attempted rape.”

  She hoped the words would be enough to jar him from his present course of action, to make him think about what he was actually doing.

  Not that she had plans to stand by and let him attack her. She knew better than that, and she knew how to defend herself. But it would be much better all around if Allan just left of his own accord.

  For a moment she thought it might work. He was processing what she was saying, the fact that he would be attacking her. But she saw the exact moment when he shrugged off her words.

  He shook his head slowly, a sneer falling over his lips. “No, I don’t think so. That’s just what girls like you say to make yourselves feel better about what you want to do.”

  He was on her before he’d even finished the sentence, catching her off guard with unexpected speed. His face rammed up against hers, his rancid breath hot against her cheek as she turned her head away. He used his weight to back her against the hood of the truck. She kept her face turned away even when he reached up and tried to yank her chin forward with his hand.

  She did not want this asshole to kiss her. It was ridiculous, but she still had last week’s kiss from Gabriel imprinted on her lips, and she didn’t want someone else’s there in its place. This sort of violence from men had been all she’d ever known. Except with Gabriel.

  The thought gave her a renewed burst of energy. Allan was so busy trying to get his lips on hers that he wasn’t paying attention to any other parts of her body.

  He was definitely paying attention a second later when she used all her strength to shove him back and crash her knee straight into his groin. The squeal that escaped him should’ve been oh, so satisfying, along with the picture of him backing away in agony and clutching his privates, but she had to use the time to her advantage. She turned to the driver-side door of her truck, snatched it open, and dove inside. She’d learned over the last couple of months to keep weapons close, and she had a hunter’s knife stashed under the passenger seat.

  She’d just reached under and grabbed it when Allan’s fist in her hair dragged her back out. He spun her around, slamming the door—barely missing her fingers—and threw her back up against the truck again.

  “You bitch.” Allan’s face was mottled in rage.

  He brought his arm up like he was going to backhand her, but Jordan quickly slipped the knife against the delicate area of his body she’d already damaged.

  “Yo
u hit me, and I can’t be responsible for my hand jerking and further damaging your family lineage.” She pressed the tip of the blade against his thighs so he would understand exactly what she was talking about. “I’ll even be nice enough to call an ambulance for you when you’re lying on the ground, holding what’s left of your balls and squealing like a pig.”

  This time, she was able to enjoy it as the color drained from his face. In the distance she heard a vehicle pulling up her driveway and prayed it wasn’t one of Allan’s buddies. Nobody else had ever made such an overtly violent move against her, but there was no way she would be able to hold two—or more—of them off with a knife. She needed to get to her house.

  Allan backed away, but she wasn’t sure why. Because he was afraid of being caught in the act by whoever was coming up the drive? Or because he was biding his time until his buddies arrived?

  His beady eyes narrowed. “You’re going to regret this.”

  She pushed away from the truck, knife firmly in hand, and bolted up her porch steps, keeping an eye on him over her shoulder to make sure he didn’t follow her. She was prepared to spin the knife on Allan again as she dug her keys out of her pocket, but he didn’t follow her.

  She didn’t pause, just got the door open and ran inside, grabbing the shotgun she kept by her refrigerator.

  It was loaded with birdshot, so it probably wouldn’t kill anybody, but it would get the job done. She grabbed some extra shells from the counter in case she needed them for Allan’s buddies.

  But when she turned around and walked back outside, shotgun ready for action at her side, it wasn’t Allan’s friends who had shown up.

  It was Gabriel.

  And he had Allan by his shirt collar.

  “Look, man,” Allan whined, ridiculously scrawny compared to Gabe’s massive strength, “I was just coming to see my friend Jordan.”

  “Then why did it look to me like Jordan was holding a knife on you, then running for her life?” Gabriel’s green eyes met hers before continuing. “Here’s Jordan now. And with a gun. Seems to me like she probably wouldn’t be meeting her friends with a gun in her hand.”

  Allan had the idiocy to try to get tough with Gabe. “Maybe that gun is for you, man. You’re not from around here. You don’t know the situation.”

  Gabriel’s fist tightened in Allan’s shirt. “If the situation you’re referring to is that you think it’s open season on this woman for any reason, then you and I are going to have a long chat. I’ll bring my friends from Linear Tactical along. I may not be from around here, but they are, and I’m certain they feel the same about Jordan’s safety.”

  Allan’s voice dropped lower. “It’s not like that, man. Everybody hates her. Nobody cares what happens to her.”

  Jordan’s heart lurched in her chest as Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, and he let go of Allan. Oh God, did he believe Allan?

  Not that Allan wasn’t telling the truth. There weren’t very many people who cared what happened to her.

  Gabriel leaned closer to him and whispered something she couldn’t hear. Allan nodded frantically, then took off running into the forest. Gabriel watched him go until it was obvious he wouldn’t be coming back, then turned back to her. They stared at each other for long moments, those eyes of his that never missed anything studying her intently.

  Violet had told her that he used to be a Navy SEAL. Jordan had done a little research on that, then almost wish she hadn’t. The training SEALs went through was pretty damn impressive, as well as the sorts of missions they were part of. The Linear guys had all been part of the Army’s Green Berets. SEALs were the Navy’s equivalent.

  Gabriel hadn’t moved toward her. He was still standing right where he had been with his arms held close to his hips, palms facing her. A pose of nonaggression.

  She wasn’t deceived into thinking the pose meant he wasn’t aggressive, just that he was keeping it restrained for her sake.

  Or maybe the pose was because of the shotgun she had pointed at him from her waist. Not the most accurate way to shoot, but again, it would certainly get the job done at this range.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Did that asshole hurt you?”

  “What did you say to him?” She should lower the gun but couldn’t force herself to do it.

  He shrugged. “Just a little talk about how no means no, and how the guys and I would be happy to help him understand that more clearly if he was having difficulty comprehending it.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t care if you kick puppies out onto the highway. It’s never okay for a man not to accept it when a woman says no.”

  She believed him, believed that he had fought for this country to protect those very basic freedoms. Even for someone like her.

  She lowered the gun. “For the record, I only kick puppies out onto dirt roads, not highways.”

  He gave her a half smile and took a step closer as if to judge whether she was going to point the gun at him again.

  She couldn’t quite decide that either.

  “Thanks for your help with the riffraff, even though I could’ve handled him myself.” But more important was the question she could find no logical answer to. “Why are you here, Collingwood?”

  Chapter 4

  Jordan still held that shotgun in her hands—obviously comfortable with it—as Gabe stood looking at her on her porch.

  Why was he here?

  The truth, that he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since the last time he saw her, and that he’d driven the hour and a half from Idaho Falls with no real plan in mind, would just have her pointing the gun in his direction again.

  “I came to see Violet. But evidently she and Teague have plans for the weekend.”

  That was partially true. Gabe always wanted to see his sister, but in this case, Violet had just been an excuse to check on Jordan. And given what he’d just driven up on, he was damn glad he had.

  Jordan placed the shotgun down against the column. The same column that had been fueling his fantasies for the past ten days.

  She looked a little shaky as she sat down in the rocking chair. He walked toward her, keeping his steps slow and easy. She’d been spooked enough already. Those big gray eyes studied him warily.

  “Who was that guy?” he asked.

  She didn’t have to tell him, Gabe was going to find out either way, but understanding the nature of their relationship would at least help him understand how to move forward. Was he an ex-boyfriend?

  Hell, current boyfriend? Some relationships were volatile like that.

  “Allan Godlewski” was all she said.

  “Friend of yours?”

  She laughed, but the sound held no humor. “No. He’s just one of the— Shit.”

  She jumped to her feet and ran toward the door.

  Gabe was on her heels in a second, fighting the urge to pull her behind him in case there was any danger as she rushed inside. But hell, it was her house. She ran to a small bedroom, the same one with the broken window he’d noticed when he’d pulled up.

  A large rock lay on the floor in the middle of the room. Jordan pretty much ignored it and rushed over to the desk in the corner, where a computer and monitor sat unharmed.

  “Thank God.” The words came out on a huff of breath. “The computer is probably the most expensive thing I own. I doubt Allan knew it was in here, but I was afraid he had gotten lucky.”

  “That asshole broke your window?”

  She shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll deny it if anyone else asks, but yeah, he pretty much admitted it to me.” She walked over and picked up the rock before he could stop her.

  “You probably shouldn’t touch it. It might have fingerprints.”

  She snorted. “I’m pretty sure that won’t matter. I reported it last time. But, you know, sometimes nature is crazy in Wyoming. At least that’s what the deputy they sent to investigate the last time told me.”

  He flattened his lips, crossing his arms. “Did you ever
think about moving somewhere else?”

  “No.”

  She didn’t have any more to say about that, just brushed by him so she could exit the room to the rest of her small house. It was nice, clean, with a floor plan that had the kitchen and living room open to each other. Her furnishings were a little sparse, but she had the basics: couch, television, small kitchen table in the eating nook.

  She got a broom from beside the fridge, took it back into the computer room, and began silently sweeping up the glass. Gabe held the dustpan for her, then dumped the pieces in the trash can outside.

  She studied the broken window with a sigh. “I’ve got some plywood out back. I’ll just cover the sill until I can replace it. I can do it later.”

  “Do you have someone you can call to help?”

  She gave a long exhale and a little shrug. “I’ll be able to get it myself.”

  He shook his head. There was no way in hell. “I’ll help.”

  She looked like she was going to argue but stopped. Instead, she led him out the back door to a small shed that contained some wood. Using a handsaw rather adeptly, she cut the size plywood she needed, then he carried it over to the window.

  “Does this happen often?” He held the wood in place while Jordan nailed it.

  “There’s only been one other time a window has been broken.”

  Which didn’t mean she wasn’t regularly harassed, just that there wasn’t physical evidence of it.

  They finished in silence. The end result wasn’t pretty, but it would at least keep out the elements until she got it repaired professionally.

  How and when she was going to get that done, and whether she could afford it, were none of his business, he reminded himself.

  “Thank you,” she said softly as they walked back around to the front porch. “At the very least, you’ve got good timing.”

  He sat down on the porch steps. “Are you sure it’s safe out here by yourself? It’s one thing for law enforcement to ignore vandalism, but things looked a little precarious between you and Godlewski when I got here.”

  She let out an exhausted sigh and sat down next to him on the steps. “Allan is never a prince, but he was in rare form tonight. I can handle him. He and his buddies generally keep it to petty and mildly annoying stuff. I ignore it.”