The Prosecutor

Chapter Sixteen


Emma walked out of the restaurant’s kitchen, untied her apron and shoved it into her tote bag. Her feet did the normal protest and she eyed one of the barstools. If she sat down, though, she wouldn’t get up. She’d crash right there and let the stress of the day seep from her body. She’d known plenty of exhaustion in her life, but this heaviness, which slowed her steps and made her dream of sleeping for a month, had kicked her to another level of tired.

Days didn’t get any longer than the one she’d just had. Part of her had considered calling off work, but sitting around a strange apartment—no matter how stunning it was—thinking about her decimated home and her broken heart, courtesy of Zachary Hennings, wouldn’t fix her problems. Plus, they’d need extra money for whatever deductibles the insurance company would hit them with.

The hostess locked the front door while they closed up. No Zac tonight. That’s what happened when a relationship ended. All those comforting moments, like him showing up to see her home, went away and left that monstrous black sinkhole inside waiting for her to slide in and get smothered.

Not going to happen.

She’d long ago given up on happily ever after. The way her life went, if she found someone to share a happily-ever-after life with, they’d wind up getting run over by a bus. At least they’d die together. For some reason, she found that thought vaguely amusing and quietly laughed.

So morbid, Emma. And so unlike her. As much as people teased her about her willingness to persevere, she’d take it over this nonsense any day. What good would sitting here boo-hooing do? She needed rest and a good dose of Warrior Emma. At least that Emma knew how to move ahead.

“No guy tonight?” the hostess asked.

“No,” Emma said, the word oozing from her mouth. “Emilio said he’d walk me to my car. He’s finishing up in the kitchen.”

Hoping to avoid further questions from the nosy hostess, Emma turned, faced the front window and—wham—her heart exploded, one giant blast of energy that made her arms tingle. On the other side of the glass, in the misty, freezing rain, Zac stood bundled in a coat and ski hat.

He’s here. Emma leaped off the stool, buttoned her jacket and rushed to the door while the hostess flipped the lock.

“I thought you were waiting for Emilio.”

“Um, no. Tell him thanks, though. Zac is here.”

She scooted out before the litany of busybody questions came. Moist air smacked her cheeks and cars whooshed by, their tires kicking up water from the rainy evening. Emma pulled her hood up. “Hi.”

“Hi back.”

“You came.”

A half smile quirked his lips. “Just because you dumped me doesn’t mean I can’t make sure you get home.”

She dumped him. For good reason. At least she thought. What am I doing?

Something in her throat squeezed and her eyes throbbed. No tears. She swallowed once, warring with herself to keep it together. “I’m so confused and miserable. I don’t know what to do.”

He skimmed his finger over the curve of her cheek to her jaw and that light touch, so gentle and comforting, sent her into another battle with self-doubt. How could she let him go?

“Me, too,” he said. “But it’s been a lousy day and talking about it now won’t help.”

“You’re always so logical.”

“It’s what I do.” He jerked his chin toward the street. “Where are you parked?”

“Two blocks down. I got to work late and had to park in the garage.”

“Let’s get you there then. The roads are horrible. Freezing rain iced everything over. Drive slow tonight.”

They walked in silence, the swish of tires against pavement providing a diversion to the destruction lying heavy between them. For once, they had nothing to say. How incredibly sad for both of them.


In the near distance, the parking garage loomed and Emma slowed. Pathetic? Yes. But she didn’t want this time with him to end. If Brian didn’t win a reversal, there’d be no future with Zac and it would be best if she just let him go now. Save herself the pain later. How sad that her life had become a study in saving herself pain.

At the corner, they waited for the walk sign to flash. A few cars idled at the red light, but all in all, a quiet night. The light changed and Zac stepped off the curb. On the cross street, a driver gunned the gas to make a left, spotted Zac in the street and slammed on his brakes. The car slid as if greased.

No.

Tires squealed from the opposite direction and Emma grabbed Zac’s coat, hauling him backward as a speeding car barreled into the car making the left. An enormous crash of metal and shattering glass erupted and then, in seconds there was nothing but silence. Harsh, ugly silence.

Only feet in front of them was the wreckage of a destroyed vehicle, the windshield of the speeding car had blown out and a passenger lay draped across the dash into the open space where glass had been. No seat belt. Whether the person was male or female, Emma couldn’t tell. Too much blood. Awful, soaking amounts of blood.

Zac tore into the fray and Emma dug in her purse for her cell phone. 9-1-1. Other drivers swarmed the scene, checking on victims while Emma was informed that an ambulance was en route.

She clicked off and felt a poke near her side.

“Say one word and this knife goes through you. I’ll gut you right on this street.”

Knife.

In front of her, neon red bounced off the building across the street and a police cruiser came to a stop just feet away. Scream. Emma opened her mouth.

“Not a word,” the man repeated and his voice.

It’s him.

“Move,” Alex Belson said. “Toward the garage. After following you for days, I almost gave up when I saw Zac. I got a bonus with that accident.”

He tugged the back of her coat and she drove her feet into the ground. The pressure of that knife on her back increased. “I got nothing to lose by killing you right here. And when I’m done with you, I visit your mother.”

Emma started walking. At most, she had two minutes until they reached the garage. If they got there, she was dead. This she knew. Never let them take you to a second location. Wasn’t that what all the safety experts always said?

No second location.

She’d have to run before they reached the garage, except he detoured away from the entrance.

She pointed. “The garage is—”

“Shut up.”

Emma slowed, but Alex pressed her forward, nearly shoving her. She swung her gaze left and right, searching for a weapon. Lamppost. Garbage can bolted to the sidewalk. Fire hydrant.

Nothing useful.

Then she saw the sidewalk separate and her limbs turned cold, freezing, like icicles attached to her body. She halted and Alex laughed. Monster.

If he took her into that alley, she’d be dead. No question.

“Why...why are you doing this?”

“Because you won’t go away. Subtle doesn’t seem to work for you. What the hell is it with you women? I speak, but you don’t listen.”

What? She looked at him and he pressed the knife into her coat far enough that she felt the tip. Sharp. Deadly.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “Eyes forward.”

Across the street, two women came out of their car, hunched against the cold and strode in the opposite direction.

“Don’t even try it,” Alex said.

Emma’s eyes went back to the mouth of the alley twenty yards ahead. You’re dead.

“Please don’t do this. I’ll stop. I promise.”

“Too late. I thought that idiot Leeks would do it, but you’re just that damn fearless.”

“You sent him?”

Again, he laughed, a guy simply enjoying a chat with his companion. “No. That’s the beauty of it. He wanted your boyfriend to lay off his kid. Imbecile was helping me and didn’t even know it.”

So confused.

“The kid’s a waste of space anyway. I loved her and he’s an abusive psycho she couldn’t stay away from. Stupid women. All of you.”

“Chelsea?”

“And then I had to suck up to make sure I drew the damn case. Unbelievable. My life went to hell the minute I saw her. All I wanted was a damn report from her father and there she was, waiting for him to finish up. After that, it was over for me. Nothing but trouble.”

They reached the alley. Emma stopped, threw all her weight into not moving. If she went into that alley, she’d never come out.

But Alex was bigger and stronger and he had that knife digging into her side. “Home sweet home, Emma.”

Fight.

He shoved her hard enough to send her stumbling into the dark alley. Quickly, she bolted upright thinking fast. Weapon. Elbows, fists, legs. All she had. Water splashed—he’s coming—and she whirled on him. Swung back into the general direction of his throat. Missed.

“Now she wants to play,” he said in that voice, evil and menacing, that cut through her worse than any knife. “We can make this as hard as you want, Emma.”

She ran into the alley, her feet slamming against the pavement. Don’t be a dead end. Blackness surrounded her and her eyes slowly adjusted as she sloshed against the wet ground. Oooff—he tackled her. Her knees hit the ground first and she turned her head before doing a face plant. Her left cheek took the impact and pain exploded.

Hair tug. Ow. Straddling her from behind, he wrapped his hand tightly around her ponytail and yanked her head back, exposing her throat. Using his free hand, he looped something around her neck—no, no, no.

Emma kicked out, tried to get him off her. Too heavy. The cord tightened, sliced into the minimal flesh at her throat and she gasped.

“Crazy bitch. I set your damn house on fire and you still won’t give up.”

He jerked the cord tighter and tighter still. Get him off. She flung her arm back. Nothing there. Except the pressure released. Free. Emma howled, her throat convulsing from the effort of her scream and the air blowing through it. The weight on her back disappeared. She flipped over, scrambled to her feet. Extra person. Too dark to see. Both on the ground.

“Son of a bitch.” Zac’s voice.

“He’s got a knife!” Emma yelled.

Zac pounced before Alex got fully to his feet. He shoved him, forced him to the ground. Punches flew, Alex’s head snapped back and Emma ran toward him. Check his hands. But Zac flew backward when Alex slammed him with a kick to his midsection.

Find the knife. Too dark. She’d never find it. Instead, she hurled herself at Alex giving Zac time to recover.

“Emma, back!”

And then Emma got the luck that had eluded her for so long. A shaft of moonlight broke through the clouds and illuminated part of the alley. Two feet from her, a glint of steel winked.

Knife.

She ran toward it, picked it up. “Got the knife.”

And Zac went crazy. Punches flying, kicks connecting, elbows swinging. All of it, a reign of terror on Alex Belson so fierce she wondered if the man would survive it. Alex doubled over and Zac slammed his elbow into his back, sending him to the ground. In a split second, Zac pounced on him, digging his knee into the center of Alex’s back.

“Hands out,” he said. “Let me see them.”

But Alex wouldn’t surrender. He bucked and Zac smacked him on the back of the head. Unable to wriggle free, Alex spread his arms flat.

Zac dropped his head, heaved a breath. “Dammit, Alex. What are you doing?”


* * *

ZAC LEANED ON THE COLD cement wall of the parking garage as officers loaded Alex Belson into a squad car. A truck rumbled by, that rotten egg smell of its exhaust hitting Zac, making his stomach seize. Nasty, that.

What had just happened?

A detective escorted Emma from the alley. They’d been questioned separately and would most likely be questioned again, but for now, they were done. He still didn’t know what had happened to her. All he knew was that he’d looked up from the car accident and she was gone, walking away with some dude. He’d followed, keeping his mouth shut and his steps light, knowing he wouldn’t allow Emma to get hurt.

Coming up next to him, Emma leaned against the building. “You okay?”

Always worried about everyone else. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he’s the one. He didn’t say it, but he said he loved Chelsea. Something about how she couldn’t stay away from Leeks’s son.”

Zac nodded. “She and Leeks were on-again-off-again. Twisted relationship.”

“I’m so confused. We trusted him. He let my brother go to prison. That filthy hunk of flesh wanted my brother to rot in a cell.”

Zac dragged his hands over his face and suddenly her hand was on his back, rubbing in that way she did that made everything less intense. “I looked up and you were gone. If I hadn’t looked up when I did, I’d have lost you, Emma. I wouldn’t have known where you went. I’ve never been that scared.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “But you did look up. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I could have lost you. How could I let that happen?”

Had there ever been a time when he’d been this uncertain? He’d always been the logical one in the family. Always making the right decision, and even when he didn’t, it wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt or died. He’d simply learned from it and moved on. In his current state, if learning from his mistakes meant being without Emma, he didn’t want to learn.

Her shoulder hitched against him and he looked down. Face collapsed, eyes squeezed shut. Crying.

Damn, he never wanted to see this strong, capable woman reduced to tears. Pushing himself off the wall, he wrapped her in his arms. “Sshhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we’ll figure it out.”

And they would. Because after this, job or no job, he wouldn’t let her go.