How to Save A Life

Chapter 4

Marli leaned her forehead against the cold glass and gulped. Her whole body was a quivering mass of jumping nerves. With trembling hands, she unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to let Jeff in.

He grabbed her upper arms. "Are you okay?" he demanded.

She nodded mutely, not sure if she could speak. Her knees so weak she thought she might fall, she turned out of Jeff's grasp and staggered into her living room, then collapsed on the edge of her couch.

Jeff followed her, after forcefully shutting and locking the door behind him.

"You've got to call the cops." He went into the kitchen and grabbed the cordless handset from the base, then handed it to her.

She took the phone, but did nothing. She didn't even look at Jeff, but closed her eyes.

"Marli. Call the police."

She looked at the phone and, with a curse, Jeff snatched it from her limp hand and dialed 911. She vaguely heard him report the attempted breakin through a fog of confused fear.

"Shit," he said with disgust as he hung up. "They won't come until tomorrow. You're safe, the guy's gone, it's not an emergency. Jesus."

Marli shakily pushed her hair back from her face, aware she was wearing a T-shirt and panties. Not that Jeff would notice. He was completely, openly gay. But he was a great friend and neighbor.

"Did you hear him?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "How did you..."

"I was just getting home," he said. "I guess he didn't notice me. I saw him at your door. I could tell he was trying to break in, so I yelled at him and ran over here. He took off."

"Thank you, Jeff," she said in a choked voice. "Oh, my God."

"Who was it? Any idea?"

Trey's image flashed into her head. He could have followed her home from the bar. Sure, he'd said he was a cop, but how did she know that for sure?

No. It didn't feel right. He'd been so sweetly understanding, backing off when she wanted him to, his aura of safekeeping wrapping around her.

But who else? Was it just a coincidence? A murderer was out there on the loose. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I have no idea, but I've never been so terrified. I'm a basket case as it is, then this happens." She looked up at Jeff, still standing there with the phone in his hands, looking concerned and anxious.

"You want me to stay here tonight?"

She considered that. She hated to seem weak and helpless, but damn, she was scared. "Yes," she whispered. "Would you mind?"

"Of course not. I'll sleep on your couch."

"Thank you. Do... Would you like some coffee or something?"

"Yeah. Sure."

He stayed with her while she made some tea for them, both of them knowing sleep was going to be impossible.

"Tomorrow I'm going to get an alarm system installed," she told him. "I've been so nervous ever since..."

He nodded. "That's a great idea. A single woman living alone should have an alarm system. You should've done that when you moved in here."

"Yeah. I should have." Shehated feeling like this. She was a strong, independent, fun-loving woman reduced to a teeth-chattering, stuttering child.

The Super Seven Motel was cheap, but he barely had enough money for one more night, despite his new job.

He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.

Rage simmered in him, building and bubbling. He was not used to things being so tough for him. Marli was being difficult. It was pissing him off.

Some guy had come racing to her rescue! Jesus, after she'd been cock-teasing in the bar all night, she had another man at home. What a slut she was.

He'd been so sure she'd lived alone, didn't have a boyfriend. He narrowed his eyes.

She'd been at Cactus Jack's the last two nights in a row. Chances were good she'd be there again tonight. And so would he. He'd find a way to get her on her own.

She had to pay for what she'd done.

He imagined again how it would be. He imagined first bringing her here, to his motel room. Then he played the whole scenario through again, this time in her home. He imagined what it looked like...classy, expensive. Like her. He imagined her laughter and sneering turning to fear and disbelief. The fear in her eyes would get him going, incite him. Excitement rose in him even as he imagined it.

He'd take her first, thrust hard into her while she writhed beneath him, trying to fight him off. He knew she would try to fight, and he could already feel the adrenaline rush of controlling her. He'd hurt her...slap her, punch her...his imagination roamed for different ways to inflict pain on her. He'd enjoy every minute of her luscious terror, her screaming and begging him to stop. She would be one he'd need to tie up. He smiled.

He'd make her sorry she'd laughed at him, mocked him for being a cowboy. She'd be sorry she walked away from him.

Then he'd kill her.

Marli had to beg the alarm company to come that day, and the tears making her voice wobbly weren't forced when she told them about the attempted breakin the night before. She waited at home all day, doors locked, blinds closed. She'd had to cancel a shoot, rescheduling it for next week, and the client was not happy.

She tried to focus on work in her home office, invoicing and doing her books, the part of owning her own business that she hated. Not only was she jolted by every little noise she heard--every car that pulled up on the street, every creak, even the refrigerator motor going on and off--but thoughts of Trey kept tugging her thoughts away from her work. She recalled the humor in his eyes as they talked and laughed, the way he'd looked at her with hot desire he was keeping carefully banked because he knew she was nervous.

Was she going to go back to Cactus Jack's tonight?

He'd told her not to. He'd told her to forget about that crazy idea and let the cops deal with it. But he didn't understand. He didn't understand how the guilt was eating away at her. She couldn't even say the words out loud, admit to someone else that she was responsible for her friend's death. That was just too hard, too horrendous. It was...unspeakable.

She had to go. For Krista.

He wasn't there.

Marli found a seat at the bar, but it wasn't where she preferred to sit. She was later getting there than the other evenings and almost every stool at the bar was taken. Oh, well, she could move later.

She gazed around, sipping her Diet Coke. Trey had, no doubt, gone on to San Francisco. He wasn't willing to help her and, although they both knew they were attracted to each other, she'd made it pretty clear to him she had no intention on acting on the attraction, so he'd probably just moved on.

She had other more important things to worry about. Again, her eyes scanned the crowds, stopping on every big, blond man there to study him. Disappointment and anxiety battled within her.

With a sigh, she looked down at her drink. It was going to be a long evening.

She watched people come and go, politely refused offers of drinks and invitations to dance, sitting there by herself on her barstool. By midnight, she'd had enough. She left a tip for the bartender who'd brought her the single Diet Coke she'd drank all evening and snagged her purse from where it hung on the back of the stool.

Outside the bar, the dark chill of evening shrouded her. She hugged her purse close and wrapped her arms around herself as she walked to her car in the parking garage. The attendant on duty in his little lit-up booth read a magazine. Were there security cameras? She made sure to walk by him so he'd know she was going to her car, just in case. But her car was up two levels and she had to take the stairs to get there.

She dreaded going into the stairwell. Why was she doing this to herself? She pulled open the door and stepped in. It was well-lit, which helped a little, but even so she ran up the stairs as fast as she could, bursting out of the door into the dimly lit parking structure. There weren't many cars on this level. She headed straight to hers, her keys ready.

She heard the door behind her. Someone else had come onto this level. It's okay. It's okay. Just someone else going to his vehicle. She wanted to look, but focused on walking to her car as quickly as she could.

A hand yanked her back. Her heart leaped into her throat and she cried out as arms encircled her from behind in a lung-squeezing grip.