When the elevator stopped on the seventh floor, Ethan entered the hallway and walked slowly toward Dr. Nelson’s office. Gold lettering gleamed on the guy’s door. Ethan didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he opened the door and stepped into the reception area. No one was there.
The shrink needed better security. Much, much better. Just anyone could walk right inside.
Anyone had.
Another door waited just a few steps away. The shrink’s inner sanctum. Was Carly inside with him?
But then that other door opened. A man stood there, the light glinting off his glasses. He was a few inches shorter than Ethan, his body thinner.
“You!” The guy said, his eyes widening as he took a step back. “What are you—did Carly tell you what happened? Dammit, she sent you up here fast!”
Okay, the doctor knew him. How—they’d get to that part later. Right now…
He really didn’t like the guy’s tone. Ethan stalked forward.
“No!” The doctor threw his hands up. “It was a mistake, I swear! I didn’t mean—I wasn’t hitting on her.”
Fucking asshole. Ethan had already been in the mood for some violence before, and now this jerkoff was about to push him too far. “You’re her shrink,” Ethan gritted out.
“Not anymore.” The guy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Carly discontinued therapy. And that’s not a good idea.”
“It is if her asshole shrink is hitting on her.”
The asshole in question flinched. “I know her, okay? And I saw the two of you together down there—I just wanted to warn her what a mistake she was making. She didn’t have to run to you and tell you what happened!”
Run to you. Actually, he rather wished Carly would run to him. All the damn time.
She’s not here with the doc. She left, no doubt upset. But he hadn’t seen her in the lobby. Had she been on a different elevator?
Without another word, Ethan turned away from the shrink. It was better to get away from him, far less tempting that way. If he lingered, he just might drive his fist into the man’s nose. Hitting on Carly—her shrink! She’d probably trusted the guy. Fuck.
He marched back into the hallway and headed for the elevator.
The fool was following him, nearly begging to get his face smashed in.
“She misunderstood the situation!” The doctor was huffing and puffing behind him. “That’s all! I would never take advantage of a patient.”
Ethan spun to face him. “You sure as hell had better not.”
The doctor’s mouth hung open.
Ethan gave him a cold smile. “You have no clue who I am, do you?” He realized this now. “You just saw me kissing Carly, and you figure I’m the boyfriend…”
“Aren’t you?” The shrink squared his shoulders. “You don’t know about her, okay? You don’t know…what she’s capable of doing.”
“Actually, I do.”
“No—you know the surface, that’s it! I’ve been trying to break through with her, but she deflects—”
“You’re a real damn chatty bastard, aren’t you? Doesn’t client confidentiality matter at all to you? Or are you just trying to drive me away from Carly because you stupidly think you have a shot with her?”
“I-I—”
“You don’t know me,” Ethan told him. “And you should really hope that you never see me again. Because if you do…then that means I’m there for one reason.” He gave the shrink a cold smile. “To kick your ass.”
“I-I—” His face flushed. “I’ll call the cops.”
Ethan gave a low laugh. “Right. ‘Cause they’ll keep you safe from me.” He gave a little salute. “You have your warning.”
He went into the elevator. The other man watched him with wide eyes. “You’re so wrong for her,” the shrink said. “She can’t—she shouldn’t be with someone like you.”
The doors were about to close. “Hey, doc,” Ethan called.
The man’s chin jerked.
“Fuck off,” Ethan said. The doors slid closed.
Bastard. Carly had gone to him for help, and what—the SOB had just been lusting after her? Maybe he should go back and teach the guy some well-deserved manners. A guy with that many degrees should have enough sense to treat a woman right—and not hit on a vulnerable patient.
I will kick his ass. The elevator doors opened. But a quick sweep of the lobby showed that only the guard was there.
Ethan forgot the dick shrink—for the moment—and strode toward the guard. “Gorgeous red-head, about five foot five, blue eyes.” His words came out rapid-fire.
The guard nodded. “I saw her come up.”
“When did she leave?”
The guard hesitated. “Just who are—”
“When did she leave?”
The guard swallowed. His hand nervously slid toward the radio on his hip. “I haven’t seen that lady leave.”
But—she should have left by then. He’d had time to go upstairs and come back down. Something was wrong with this scene. Very, very wrong.
“I’ll like to see your ID, sir,” the guard told him as he gave a grim nod.
“Is there a parking garage in this building?” Because if someone had taken Carly, then that person would have needed a different way to get her out.
Unless she isn’t being taken. Maybe she’s just being…killed.
“Yeah, yeah, there’s a garage below—”
Ethan didn’t stand around to hear anymore. He ran right for the stairwell that waited on the left. The stairwell was closer than the elevator.
The guard shouted, “I need your ID!”
“Screw that—just call the cops! A woman is missing!” Maybe he was jumping the gun, but he didn’t care. Not with the danger that was his life—the danger that he knew was stalking Carly. He’d thought she would be safe in the shrink’s office. That mistake was on him. Now he had to find her, fast.
Ethan threw open that stairwell door and raced down the steps.
***
He had the knife at her neck, but he wasn’t slicing open her throat.
“Make another sound,” the attacker said, his voice chilling her, “and I swear, you will never talk again.”
Her screams had stopped.
They were beside the back of a van. Big, black. The kind of van that had always made her instantly think…serial killer.
“We’re going for a little ride. And when that ride stops…”
What? She’d be dead? Because Carly knew—with absolute certainty—that if she got in the van, she was a dead woman. She’d read some study about that somewhere. Online. In some magazine. Somewhere. You were never supposed to get in the car and be taken from the scene—that decreased your survival chances too much.
She’d been taken before. When she’d been seventeen. She’d wound up with Quincy, hurting.
Trapped.
It couldn’t happen again.
I just need someone else to come out of the elevator. I need someone to see me. Even Dr. Nelson would be a welcome sight right then.
“When the ride stops, you’ll pay for what you did.”
Definitely going to kill me. So she had to move, and she had to move fast.
Because the elevator wasn’t opening. No one was rushing to her rescue. If she wanted to live, then she had to save herself.
“That’s right, don’t fight,” he said, sounding pleased. With one hand, he yanked open the back door of the van. She saw a rope inside. Handcuffs. Duct tape. Everything a good serial killer would need. “Knew you’d be a good girl…”
She punched her fist into his side, as hard as she could. She’d never been the good girl. She’d been the one breaking the rules, sneaking out, taking risks.
And even if she hadn’t…Good girls know how to fight back, too.
He yelled when she hit him. Carly lunged forward even as she felt the blade slice across her—not her neck, but closer to her collarbone and then—
“Carly!” That fierce roar seemed to shake the entire parking garage. She knew that roar. Ethan. He’d found her.
“Ethan!” She yelled back for him as loudly as she could. She wasn’t going to be quiet. Wasn’t going to be good. She surged forward, even though she fully expected to feel another slash from that knife.
Only…
There wasn’t a slash. Her high heels clattered across the cement and she rushed toward Ethan. He was running out of the stairwell, and she had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life.
Then she heard the squeal of tires. At that sound, she glanced to the right. The van was barreling toward her. The headlights were so bright as they shone onto her, blinding her for a moment. Her attacker wasn’t coming after her with a knife. He was trying to run her down with his freaking van.
“Carly!” Ethan grabbed her hand and they went flying together, rolling hard when they hit the cement and tumbling over, again and again.
The van sped past them, never slowing and taking the curve on two wheels as it rushed toward the exit.
The squeal of tires echoed like a scream around her. Her body hurt—probably because she’d slammed into cement and Ethan’s hard body. Her breath heaved out, and she fought to calm her frantic heartbeat.