The man crossed to the closest table and set his toolbox down. The dark skin of his arms was covered in raised scars and ink, and she wondered if her brain would’ve even registered the latter before she’d walked into Hard Ink a few days ago.
Becca picked up the dog so it didn’t bother the maintenance man and crossed to the door. Maybe Janeese had gotten snagged on a code and Nick was out there but didn’t know where to find her?
Her fingers brushed the doorknob, and something grabbed her from behind. The rough contact was so unexpected that she didn’t realize what was happening until a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm banded around her chest.
With a strangled cry, she grasped at the hand nearly smothering her, forgetting about the dog in her panic and dropping her to the floor. The puppy yelped and scrambled to her feet.
The man hauled her backward toward the courtyard door. Becca dragged her Crocs, losing both in the process, and tugged and scratched at her attacker’s arms. Victory flared through her when he released her chest. Until something sharp jabbed into the side of her ribs.
Cold fingers dug into her face, demanding her attention. “When we step outside, you’re going to walk beside me. No screaming, no more fighting. Or else I’m going to slide this blade in nice and deep.” He poked it harder for good measure, and Becca gasped into his palm at the sting.
A rolling growl drew Becca’s wide-eyed gaze back to the dog, whose show of teeth, braced posture, and downward tail all read aggression.
Metal clanked and cool air blew from behind her. The man slowed up, like maybe he was scoping the scene first. “Real friendly now, Miss Merritt,” he rasped, way too close to her ear. He knew her name? “I’d hate to have to hurt any witnesses who saw me shank you.”
Dread crawled over her skin. God, Nick, where are you? Please be here. Every instinct inside screamed that she’d be lost for good if this guy got her out the door.
The puppy’s growls crescendoed in volume.
“Here we go,” the man said.
White-hot terror washed over every inch of her, and in an instant she decided she’d rather take her chances getting stabbed than abducted to God only knew where. Becca gripped the molding around the door with both hands and braced for the slicing pain.
“What’d I tell you, bitch?” The knife jabbed.
She cried out, losing her grip with one hand, and the dog went crazy barking. It charged and attacked the man’s leg, but a kick sent the puppy sprawling with a whimper. She didn’t stay down. Wobbly legs back under her, she barked and lunged again.
The door across the room exploded open.
Nick burst in, weapon raised, stance ready, expression absolutely deadly. “Let her go, and I’ll consider not planting some lead in your eye socket.”
The bad guy’s knife twitched, and Becca clasped her hands together and wrenched back with her left elbow with all her might. Whatever she’d connected with earned her a satisfying grunt and had the desired effect of diverting whatever plans he’d been making with the blade. Suddenly, she was free, and a hard shove to her back sent her sprawling face-first to the floor. Trying to catch herself, she landed funny on one hand, and her forehead glanced off the floor.
Her attacker fled out the open door as Nick called her name.
Footsteps crossed the room, then stopped at the sound of a long, low growl.
Groaning, Becca pushed onto her elbows. Her little guardian had placed herself between Becca’s prone form and Nick’s advance.
His expression managed to be livid and bewildered at the same time.
Making a little calling sound with her mouth, Becca caught the puppy’s attention. “ ’Sokay, girl. He’s a good guy.” She held out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the shepherd whined and lay down by Becca’s shoulder.
Nick holstered his weapon and came around to her back. Easing his hands under Becca’s arms, he said, “Can you sit up?”
“Yeah,” she rasped, holding her breath as every joint protested the movement. “Thank you,” she managed. “For getting here in time.”
Metal scraped along the floor. “Chair right behind you. On three.” He counted off and lifted her into the chair.
Her whole body sagged into the plastic.
“Becca?” a voice asked from the doorway, where a slack-jawed crowd had gathered. Janeese. Donna. Alison, the nurse she’d been subbing for. Others whose names she couldn’t immediately bring to mind in the moment. Becca nodded.
They poured into the room, a momentary shocked silence followed by everyone talking at once.
“What the hell happened?” Janeese asked.
“A maintenance man grabbed me,” Becca said. “Nick scared him off and he fled out the door.”
“Did you recognize him?” Donna asked.