Page 7 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
She lifted her palm and saw the blood. And she screamed, over and over, never stopping to breathe. Panic rushed in and held her captive. Her world was reduced to one word.
Help.
No one came. Fear took over, shifting her cries. Screw help. She didn’t need a white knight. She needed power, strength, and someone who gave a damn about her.
Dominic.
She called his name. Her voice bordered on hoarse. She inhaled and tried again, staring up at the trees. The branches shifted in the light breeze as if mocking her. Sunbeams slipped through the leaves.
He’s not coming.
Her ranger wouldn’t rush to her rescue . . .
But he wasn’t an army ranger anymore. He’d been injured, rehabbed, and released. And he still hadn’t come back to her.
So she’d moved on.
She shouldn’t be calling for Dominic. Her new boyfriend—the man who promised a future filled with gentle kisses, romantic adventures, and children. If she made it out of this park . . .
Ted.
She called his name to the trees. The leaves shook, spilling pockets of sunlight on the path. Ted specialized in teaching elementary school kids to read. He was a good man, a kind person . . .
Her vision blurred and the leaves above her merged together. She needed help now. She rolled to her side and the pain shifted, but it didn’t increase. More wasn’t an option. She’d reached her threshold. There was agony and passing out. Those were her only choices
But before she tried to escape the pain, she needed to crawl into the open. She had to save herself. Dominic, Ted, the woman in the park—they weren’t rushing to her rescue. She needed to pull herself into the open.
Slowly, she maneuvered onto her belly and raised her left arm. If she could crawl . . .
Dragging her bruised, battered, and possibly sliced forearm over the paved path, she pressed down and pulled her body forward. Her legs scrambled for purchase, but she couldn’t find her way onto all fours.
Time distorted like it did when she visited the dentist, and the receptionist insisted on redefining the word “brief.” But she made progress. Two slides forward, she saw something pink lying on the path. Her cell phone. She crawled closed and picked it up. Music still blast from the headphones. She turned it over and—
No service.
“Stupid woods,” she muttered. “Stupid park.”
Still clutching the phone, she started dragging herself forward again. She reached the edge of the path and spotted her saviors. Two girls raced forward as if they’d eaten an entire pan of brownies last night. Or maybe they’d simply spotted her.
Help.
But the cry died before she could part her lips. Her vision blurred. And then—
Nothing.
Chapter Two
“YOU HAVE FIVE minutes to get off your ass and find your pants. Don’t bother shaving. We don’t have time.”
Dominic turned his back on the only appliance in the kitchen he gave a damn about—the coffeemaker—and faced the friend who’d saved his high school football team a time or two with a well-placed field goal. But most of the time, Ryan had missed the uprights. And right now, the town rich kid turned air force officer had kicked one helluva foul.
“How did you get in here?” Dominic asked.
“Your super gave me the key,” Ryan said. His dress uniform sparkled under Dominic’s crappy overhead lights. Between the severe look on his movie-star face and the medals lining his chest, yeah, Dominic could see how the timid super had handed over the key. Hell, even Dominic was tempted to give in and pull a pair of jeans over his boxer briefs. Maybe find a clean shirt.
“Get dressed,” Ryan barked again.
“And if I refuse?” Dominic held tight to his steaming mug with his left hand. He’d given up on sleeping through the lingering pain months ago. Now, he sipped his cup of j
