She wanted his attention only as a woman, not as a potential victim.
Parked so far out, they had to pass scraggly landscaping, disreputable cars and a few loiterers. Each time panic tried to come alive inside her, she did her best to conceal it with bravado; if Jackson wasn’t concerned, why should she be?
“Deep breaths, honey. Remember, no one is going to take you again.”
Because Jackson wouldn’t let them. “Of course not.” Her smile fell flat. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
He gave her a telling look, but said nothing.
Wishing she could see Dare or Trace instead of just trusting that they were where they should be, she walked fast to keep up with Jackson’s long stride.
They had almost reached a walkway that circled around the hospital when something moved in the bushes. A deep-throated, raspy, growling snarl emerged.
She jumped—but Jackson didn’t.
“It’s okay. Just an animal.”
“Here?” That seemed unlikely to her, given the congested area.
Frowning, Jackson stared a moment, and then moved closer to the bushes and went down on one knee.
The urge to scan the area almost overwhelmed Alani. “Jackson.” She tried to remove the shrill note from her voice. “What are you doing?”
“Wait.” He made a sound, gentle and persuasive—and a furry-faced cat poked out its head. Giant emerald-green eyes shone through long gray and cream-colored fur.
“Ohhhhh.” Alani’s heart dropped. The poor thing looked half starved, skittish and a little wounded with his long fur all fuzzy and matted. “A kitten.”
“He’s full grown,” Jackson said, “just scrawny.” He continued to hold out his hand, and the cat got close enough to sniff him before darting back into hiding.
“I bet he’s hungry.” Alani could never bear to see any animal in need. One of her favorite charities was a no-kill animal shelter local to her home. When she could, she volunteered to walk the dogs and brush the cats. “I know this is bad timing, but I hate to just leave him here.”
“It’s important to you?” Jackson didn’t sound judgmental as much as curious.
Again, she glanced around the area, but other than a few cars finding parking spots, she saw nothing. Still, better not to drag out this conversation. “I know in the scheme of things, with human lives on the line, one stray cat doesn’t seem like a big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me.” He turned back to watch the cat. “I don’t like to see anything suffer.”
Such an amazing man. Alani put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe once we’re on the road and it’s safe, we could make a call to a shelter or something.”
Jackson came back to his feet and took her hand again. As they walked, he said, “Let’s see what we can figure out when we come back this way. Maybe I can catch him or something.”
“You’re serious?”
He rolled one shoulder. “Why not? If he’s still hanging around later, then it won’t hurt to try.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles in apology. “But right now, I can’t.”
Alani looked back over her shoulder and saw the cat staring after them, his big green eyes hopeful but wary.
So Jackson would kill Marc, but he wanted to coax out a mangy cat to care for it? “Amazing.” She hugged herself to his arm. “I hope he hangs around.”
“Me, too.” He led her along to a service entrance probably used for deliveries.
She expected an alarm to go off when he opened the door next to a loading dock, and when it didn’t, her heart settled back into a normal rhythm.
Now that they were inside, she felt safer, and even let out a breath. “Thank goodness we—”
In the next second, Jackson stopped and put her behind him. “Footsteps, coming fast.”
And that put him in combat mode? They were in a hospital, after all. A quiet branch of the hospital, but still… She peeked around him and saw a long, empty hallway with numerous closets. Matching her tone to his, she whispered, “Could it be a custodian, maybe?”
Right before her eyes, he seemed to get bigger, harder. “I don’t think so.” He opened one of the closet doors and pressed her inside. “Back wall. And not a word.” Then he stepped into the room, too, but stayed near the open doorway.
Going numb with fear, Alani peered around and saw stacked boxes of supplies along with some mop buckets, bottles of cleaner, and various-size brooms and vacuums. Stepping over and around the clutter, she backed up until her shoulders touched the far wall, just as Jackson had requested.
With each footfall that sounded closer, her windpipe seemed to constrict and her heartbeat accelerate. She didn’t know what to expect, but in the back of her mind, she still thought it was probably a lot of worry for nothing.
Surely it was just someone visiting a patient.
Or a doctor. Or nurse.
She’d almost talked herself into breathing normally again, and then suddenly Jackson and another man were physically engaged.
It happened so fast that she had to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Jackson moved away from the closet even as a large dark man lashed out toward his face with a knife.
On the balls of his feet, his limbs loose, his expression anticipatory, Jackson ducked the lethal blade, then, showing lightning-fast reflexes, punched the man in the throat.
He followed that with an elbow to the man’s head, and a knee to his midsection.