The Rookie. Julie Miller
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calling the police right now.”
“With what?” David’s cough turned into a laugh as he straightened.
Rachel traced his line of sight and glanced over her shoulder, beyond the roof of her car. Distracted by the vile menace of David’s advance, she hadn’t noticed Lance circle around the front of her car. Her book bag—and the cell phone she kept inside—dangled from one big, meaty fist.
Fear—more chilling than the night around her—attacked her from within, robbing Rachel of her false sense of confidence.
The diversion was the opportunity David needed. He snatched the tire iron from her grasp.
Instinctively, Rachel circled her arms around her belly, shielding the most vital part of her from any harm.
David pointed the tire iron right beneath her chin, using it as a lethal extension of his accusatory finger. “I don’t want back in your lousy class,” he said, laying down his version of the law in unmistakable terms. “I just need you to clear my record so I can stay in school.”
“That’s out of my hands, David.”
“Do it.” Cold, cold iron tapped the end of her chin and she jerked away from its frozen touch. “Do it, or you might have to face worse than a flat tire.”
A frisson of anger worked its way through the chill that rooted her in place. “How dare you threaten me. You’re the one who broke the rules. You’re the one who has to pay the consequences.”
“It’s one…stupid…paper!”
His voice flashed with anger augmented by the liquor that still coursed within him.
Oh God. Rachel shivered against the raised fender of the car, shrinking into herself. What had she done? Why had she argued? Why hadn’t she stayed home?
This morning’s cyptic note burned an incriminating hole in her pocket. Because of her stupid paranoia, she hadn’t seen the real danger headed her way. Now she’d put not just herself but her baby in danger.
“David. Please…” For her baby’s sake, she wasn’t above pleading. “Lance? Shelton…?”
“Is there a problem, Doc?”
Rachel’s heart jumped to her throat and collided with her fear. The dark, low-pitched voice had startled David, as well. It was a voice that brooked no argument, a voice that showed no fear.
It was a voice she would never forget or be able to repay.
Her knight in shining armor stepped from the shadows into the illumination from the streetlamp. Josh Tanner. With his black jacket and jeans, he’d been invisible in the shadows. She knew he was six-three or-four, and his broad shoulders required the extra space of an empty seat on either side of him in her lecture hall. But as he stepped into the light, with his feet braced for a fight, his hands hanging in loose fists at his sides, and his blue eyes dark with some unnamed emotion, he looked bigger and tougher than she’d ever seen him in class.
She hugged her stomach, keeping her baby close in her arms, half afraid to trust in the rescue he promised.
“Lose the tire iron, David,” Josh warned.
David’s gaze darted from Lance to Shelton to Josh. The look he spared Rachel was a mix of hatred and smug triumph. “There’s three of us, Tanner.” David’s challenge dangled in the cold, damp air. “And this isn’t any of your damn business.”
“I’ve made it my business,” Josh answered, unmoved by David’s bravado. “Now, are you going to leave with your face intact, or with a bloody nose? The choice is yours.”
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