Chance Encounter (2 page)

Refusing to dwell on those dark days any longer, Kacie took one last bite of her super-bad-for-her-but-oh-so-delicious meal and then stood. The break had done her a world of good. So much so that she even had the energy to deal with the issue of her mother before getting ready for tonight’s event.

Breathing in the fragrance of a coming rain, along with the delicate scent from the cherry trees a few yards away, Kacie dropped the remains of her meal into a nearby garbage can and strolled leisurely back toward her apartment.
 

Refreshed and renewed, she was ready to take on the world once more.

She never saw them coming.
 

One moment she was on the sidewalk, the next she was doing a clumsy midair tumble like an inebriated gymnast. She came to an abrupt and painful landing on the soft, forgiving earth.

Stunned and breathless, Kacie lay still for a few seconds, trying to figure out what had happened. Had she gotten dizzy and fallen? Had she run into something?

A multitude of whispers floated toward her. Twisting her head slightly, she blinked her confusion as she realized several people were standing over her. Were they here to help her?

One of them, a young man, moved closer and whispered something.

Kacie blinked up in confusion. “What?”

The whispers started up again. What were they saying? It sounded almost like a chant.

The one who’d come closer leaned over her. His breath coated her face with the smell of something strong and spicy as he whispered in an eerie, monotone, “He’s. Coming. For. You.”
 

Any breath she’d gathered left her again. Kacie managed to croak, “Are you crazy? What are you talking about?”

“He’s coming for you. He’s coming for you.” The voices around her increased in volume in a creepy, mantra-like symphony.

The man who leaned over her straightened, and then almost as one, the entire group disappeared from sight.

What the hell?

“Miss. Are you all right?”

Kacie looked up into the concerned eyes of an elderly man who stood over her.

Gathering her wits, she drew in a shaky breath and assessed the damage. Other than getting the crap scared out of her and a couple of bruises, she was unharmed. “I think so.”

“My wife called 911. They should be here soon.”

“Oh…I…”
Don’t be stupid, Kacie. Not calling the police because you want to avoid publicity is insane.
“Thank you.” Feeling both vulnerable and foolish for just lying on the ground, Kacie attempted to sit up.

“Maybe you should stay put until the paramedics can check you out.”

“I’m okay…really.” She sat up, pleased that she spoke the truth. Other than an accelerated pulse that was beginning to slow down and a couple of aches on her shoulder and hip, she felt fine.

Pushing herself up, she flashed a grateful smile at the elderly man as he put out a shaky hand to help. Though she took his hand, she did her best to get up under her own strength. The kindly gentleman was bone thin and so frail looking she feared she’d pull him down on the ground if she tugged too hard.

Her legs wobbled only slightly when she was finally standing. She looked around, pleased to see that, other than the man and his wife, who was still on the phone, no one else was around.

“Did you see what happened?” Kacie asked.

“Just a glimpse when they were leaving. There were six of them, all on skates. I told my wife the other day that those kids are going to kill somebody someday.” He looked around. “Did they steal anything?”

“No. I didn’t have a purse or anything. They just startled me.”

The man glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like the police made good time. I’ll stick around and give them a statement.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

As Kacie waited for the mounted policeman to reach them, a chill swept through her as she remembered those eerie chants:
He’s coming for you. He’s coming for you.

What the hell did that mean?

Chapter Two

Alexandria, Virginia

Brennan Sinclair lay on the floor. He’d been here before, more times than he wanted to remember. Bad thing about hitting rock bottom was the grim knowledge that there was no place to go but up. And damned if he had felt like ever getting up again. No, he would’ve just as soon stayed down in the muck and the grime, wallowing in self-pity. Too bad he’d had the good fortune of having a friend who refused to let him stay down.

“So what’s it going to be, asshole?”

The self-satisfied drawl came from the man standing above him. The one who’d just knocked him flat on his ass and was inviting him to get back up so he could do it again.

He was sweaty and had a distinct ache in his ribs, but Brennan knew he had a lot more in him. He cocked an arrogant brow. “Gloating doesn’t look good on you, Kelly. Makes a man want to knock the smirk off your face.”

“Oh yeah?” came the overconfident reply. “I’d say it looks a helluva lot better than self-pity looked on you.”

The man had that right. A few years ago, he’d been so mired in the shit he’d allowed his life to become, a sound beating had been the only way to get him out of his pity party. Justin Kelly, friend, rescuer, and one of the toughest SOBs Brennan had ever known, had gleefully delivered the goods.

But that was then, this was now. Brennan surged to his feet and came at Justin like a lethal bulldozer, slamming one fist into his face and one to his gut, finishing up with a roundhouse kick to his head. In extreme satisfaction, Brennan watched his friend fly halfway across the room and land on the mat with a loud curse and a pain-filled groan.

“Shit!” Justin sat up and shook his head rapidly as if to clear it. “Remind me not to piss you off again.”

Brennan grinned down at the man he’d just wiped the floor with. “You’ve not seen pissed off. Those were love taps. Get back up, and I’ll show you a few moves even you LCR guys don’t know about.”

Justin snorted. “That arrogant attitude of yours will fit in well with LCR.”

Grabbing a bottle of water, Brennan tossed it to his friend and then took one for himself. Finishing half of it in one, long swallow, he replaced the cap. “I’m looking forward to meeting McCall. He’s not much of a phone conversationalist. Just gave me a date, time, and location to meet. What’s he like in person?”

Wiping his face with a towel, Justin twisted his mouth into a wry smile. “About the same. With McCall, what you see is what you get. He doesn’t pull punches…calls it like he sees it. If he doesn’t like you, you’ll know it.”

“Good.” Brennan liked straight shooters.
 

 
“Where are you guys meeting?”

“Some restaurant called Alonzo’s Place.”

“Yeah. All LCR interviews take place at either a hotel or a restaurant.”

Made sense. Last Chance Rescue was one of the most secretive and successful rescue organizations in the world. When lives were at risk, trust couldn’t come easy.

And LCR’s founder, Noah McCall, was just as secretive as his organization. Few knew where the leader of Last Chance Rescue hung his hat. LCR rescued kidnap victims from some of the most dangerous places in the world. And because of that, rumor had it that McCall had collected some powerful enemies.

“So he knows everything?”

“Yeah…even knows the truth.”

Brennan inwardly winced. Even when one knew the truth, that was still a lot of muck to wade through. The good—he was a decent guy. The bad—he’d been an asshole and idiot for a good part of his life. The ugly—he’d done some downright shitty things that he’d give everything he owned to do over.

“With your training and experience, you’ve got the skills of a seasoned LCR operative. But rumor has it that those things aren’t always McCall’s top job requirements.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that his interview process can be unique.”

Brennan took another slug of water, now more curious than ever to meet Noah McCall. He didn’t doubt that he could do the job. He’d been there, done that. He’d clocked numerous successful rescues the last couple of years with another rescue organization and loved his career. However, it was time to move on. Last Chance Rescue was not only the gold standard for rescue organizations, they also had strict policies when it came to privacy, steering clear of public recognition whenever possible. And since publicity was the very last thing Brennan Sinclair wanted or needed in his life, working for Last Chance Rescue would be the perfect job.

Chapter Three

New York City

Her smile frozen in place, Kacie acted as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be than standing before dozens of photographers, talking to people she didn’t know, or nibbling on pâté-covered crisps. After today’s weird event, the last thing she had felt like doing was going out and mingling with hundreds of people, most of whom she didn’t know. Taking a long, hot bubble bath and sipping herbal tea sounded like so much more fun.
 

At that image, she mentally rolled her eyes.
Really, Kacie? What are you? Ninety?

This was her charity, with her name on it. It meant too much to her to even consider bailing. Besides, she was already fodder for every gossip rag and online chatter outlet in existence. When you’re dubbed America’s Sweetheart—not her doing—people seemed even more eager to find something unwholesome about her. Not attending her own charity event might well have qualified.

Her über efficient staff had been working on this event for months. Kacie had hired a limo to carry everyone to the event, and the party had gotten started early. She’d done her best to get into the spirit, and other than a few concerned questions about her lack of excitement that she’d brushed off as nerves, she thought she had covered herself pretty well.
 

The slight twinges in her shoulder and hip weren’t painful, just small reminders of a silly, freaky thing that had happened, nothing more.

 
“You look a little rough around the edges, my dear.” The dry, humorless voice came from behind her. She recognized the speaker immediately and turned, forcing her smile into one of sheer delight.

Tatiana Clark, the cattiest of the online fashion bloggers, seemed to take an almost fiendish delight in tearing into Kacie, from barely veiled insults about her appearance to mean-spirited comments about her sad lack of romance. Tatiana had stated more than once that no one could be that sweet.
 

Being extra nice to someone who went out of their way to be unpleasant had never been so much fun.

“Thanks so much for coming tonight, Tatiana. You’re looking lovely, as always.”

One of the many things she’d learned from Skylar was the graceful art of kindness. Complimenting someone who’d just as soon claw your eyes out as look at you was a good way to disarm the enemy. Kacie’s kill-them-with-kindness attitude often confused the hell out of people.

Showing that she was tougher than most, Tatiana’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed into hard gems of ice. “Too bad about the Oliver campaign. That project could’ve made you a superstar. Rumor has it that you were never even considered. Sarah March will be the new face of Oliver, probably for years. She’s only nineteen, fresh-faced and flawless, whereas you are—”
 

“Absolutely delighted for Sarah,” Kacie finished for her. “She will be a wonderful addition to the Oliver collection. Her face is perfect for them.”

“But you—”

Kacie grinned, thoroughly enjoying herself. “Never had a chance, I’m sure.”
 

 
She waved a donation card in the spiteful woman’s face. “Don’t forget your donation. I’m sure there are thousands of young women who look up to you and would love to be the next Tatiana.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think someone could replace me?”

“Who could replace you, Tatiana? You’re one of a kind.”

“You’re damn right, I am. I—”

A warm hand grasped Kacie’s elbow. “There you are, my dear. I’ve been looking all over for you. So sorry to interrupt your time with Tatiana, but I wanted to visit with you a moment.”

Giving one last friendly, charming smile to Tatiana, Kacie allowed her agent to pull her away. “Thanks. I owe you one,” she said under her breath.

“It’s what you pay me for, but really, Kacie. Do you have to be so damn nice to the woman?”

“It’s too much fun not to be nice.”

Edy rolled her eyes and snorted. One of the most prominent agents in the business, Edalyn Brown, known by most everyone as just Edy, had been Kacie’s agent for over two years. Without a doubt, Kacie knew she wouldn’t have done nearly as well without this savvy woman as her champion.

 
“Poor Tat looked as though she couldn’t figure out whether she was supposed to scratch your eyes out or give you a hug.”

“Who knows? Maybe she’ll be nicer to the next person she meets.”

Edy shot her a droll, cynical look. “Your pay-it-forward niceness lost you the Oliver account. You know that, don’t you?”

“Sarah is perfect for their campaign. Recommending her just made sense.”