Chapter 8

Annie's fingers flew over the keyboard. What was it the attacker had said? 'Let a woman learn with all submissiveness ..?' 

She typed the words into Google and hit 'Enter'. To her surprise, several Biblical sites popped up. She clicked on the first link: "Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet." 1 Timothy 2:11-12.

Annie leaned back in the office chair and stared at the computer screen. What the fuck was that all about? Had that psycho actually quoted the Bible? There weren't many things in life that surprised her anymore, but this certainly did. Not only did it surprise her, it sickened her to her core. No one would believe her if she told them, not with the life she'd chosen to lead, but religion had been a large part of her youth. Every Sunday her family sat front and center at church, devouring every word the preacher had to say. People were supposed to find comfort in the words of the Lord, not ... not this. To use the passages of the Bible to dehumanize women was beyond deplorable. And somehow, terrifyingly familiar.

And this psychopath was still on the loose. What did he want from Hudson? Annie shuddered, fearing the answer. She knew what he wanted. What all men wanted. Perhaps it was someone Hudson knew from the art gallery. She'd spent a great deal of time there over the past year. And now with the art show coming up, she'd been hanging out there even more. Other than that, she didn't have much of a social life. Hudson preferred to stay home as opposed to going out, and enjoyed having a couple of close friends to an entire group. She was quiet and gentle. Fragile. Maybe some pervert found that attractive? Maybe he'd mistaken that for submission?

Shit. It didn't matter how the situation had gotten to this point. The most important fact was that it had. And now that the monster had struck once, Annie was afraid he'd do it again. What if Hudson wasn't as lucky the next time? She'd used the gun to scare him off, but now she didn't even have a weapon to protect herself.

Annie stood from the desk and pushed her hands through waves of dark hair. If she could convince Hudson to stay in her apartment, even while she were at work, it might be enough to keep her safe. But Hudson had a stubborn streak. She'd already refused once when she'd brought the topic up, chances are she'd refuse again. And getting another gun was out of the question. Annie paced back and forth, wondering what she should do next.

"What are you doin' here, Anastasia? I didn't think you worked today." She turned around to find the owner of the club staring at her from the doorway. Ash from the Marlboro Red she sucked on dropped to the floor and scattered around her open-toed sandals.

"Hey, Stella." Annie gave her boss a half-hearted smile. "I'm not working. I just needed to use your computer. Is that all right? You said we could use it anytime we needed to."

"Of course you can, sweetie. My office is always open to my girls. 'Specially my favorite ones." Stella gave her a wink, her collagen-injected lips glossy underneath the harsh fluorescent light.

Tall, with a lean body and curves that still attracted their fair amount of attention, it was obvious Stella Carmichael had, at one time, been a great beauty. Now, her skin appeared weathered from one too many trips to the tanning salon. Her hair hung in long, over-processed, white strands along a skeletal face. The cigarette, a permanent fixture, drooped from her red-painted lips.

"Is everything all right? You look tense."

Annie let out a long exhale and sunk back into the chair. "My friend's having problems. Some sick fuck broke into her apartment last night reciting creepy passages from the Bible." She turned back to the computer and grimaced. "Some shit about being submissive."

Stella stood over her shoulder, her eyes flashing over the words on the screen. "Wow. That's pretty messed up. Is she okay? He didn't hurt her, did he?"

"He knocked her around pretty good. I had to show her how to use her hair and makeup to cover the bruises," she said, swiping a silky, black strand from her forehead. "She doesn't deserve this. She's never done anything wrong."

Stella smothered her cigarette in an ashtray and planted her hands on Annie's shoulders. Her bony fingers kneaded the tension in her muscles. Annie leaned back, trying to relax. She just couldn't shake the eerie feeling that had settled. Everyone knew a leopard couldn't change his spots, and whoever attacked Hudson was most definitely a predator. If the police couldn't find this guy, he'd be back. Next time, her friend could really get hurt. Or, worse. And Anne knew first hand, some hurts could weigh a person down forever.

"My goodness, you're tighter than my husband's asshole!" Stella let out a raspy laugh that dwindled into a cough. "You wanna do a line, sweetie? It might help you relax."

Annie shook her head. "That's the last thing I need right. I've got too much shit to take of. But thanks." She looked up and covered Stella's hand with her own. "You always take such good care of me."

"Well, I can't take care of you if you don't let me," the older woman scolded playfully. The slightest hint of Kentucky twang decorated her words. "How 'bout a shot of Johnny Walker Black? He always helps me when I'm feelin' stressed." Stella opened the half-empty bottle of whiskey she kept tucked away in the top drawer of her desk. "I don't have any glasses back here, but you can just take a swig from the bottle. Don't worry, I don't have cooties." She let out another throaty laugh. "Even if I did, the alcohol would kill 'em all. Or, that's what they say anyway."

The corner of Annie's lip curled up as Stella handed over the vial of amber liquid. "Yeah, they say a lot, don't they?" She brought the rim to her lips and took a healthy gulp. The shock of whiskey slid down her throat like fire.

"By the way, I had a customer call me this mornin' askin' about you. Wanted to know when you were working next."

Annie lifted one eyebrow. "Oh yeah? A regular, you think?"

Stella shook her head, white strands of hair brushing the tops of her too-slender shoulders. "I don't think so. Didn't recognize the voice anyway. And he never bothered to leave his name. Doesn't much matter," she said, sliding another cigarette from the pack. She let it dangle from her lips, unlit. "As long as he comes back, I don't care who he is. You really do know how to bring 'em in. Must be those fuck-me stilettos of yours. Back in my day we didn't have all the shoes you girls have today." Stella paused, slowly taking her in. "Or maybe it's that magic pussy." The sound of Stella's laughter bounced off the walls of her office. "Whatever it is, you just keep makin' the customers happy, gorgeous."

"That's the plan," Annie answered back. She might be beautiful on the outside, but the inside was pure ugly. She took another gulp of whiskey and stood up. Inch by inch, the warm sensation of alcohol coursed through her veins, easing away the pressure of the past twenty-four hours. "Thanks, Stella. You're the best." She handed over the vial and gave her boss a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Stella gave her a wide smile, her bleached teeth a shade too white. "See you then, sweetie."

On her way out the door, Annie looked over her shoulder and watched Stella down the last of the bottle.

"I don't know ..." Myles ran a hand over his freshly-shaved chin. He stared out the window, eyeing the sixty foot drop. "He would have had to scale up the first floor to get to the fire escape. Look's like it's roughly fifteen feet or so."

Hudson watched him, eyes wide with alarm. "Is that possible?"

He shrugged. "Maybe if he knew parkour."

Hudson's brows crinkled and Myles decided to reword his answer. "I mean, it's possible, I suppose. It'd just be damn hard. But he obviously didn't come through the front door. Not unless he had a key."

"No one has a key, other than my neighbor," she answered quickly. "But Annie was at work when he broke in. And sometimes Jacob borrows it, but he's in Michigan right now."

A warm breeze moved through the window. Hudson crossed her arms over her chest, fighting off a chill. She looked particularly stunning in the plum-colored sundress she'd chosen to wear. The rich color contrasted the dark blonde hair framing her face, making her green eyes glow. There was just something about her that left him mesmerized. He couldn't be sure what it was exactly. The soft lilt of her voice, or the way she looked at him with such vulnerability in her eyes?

She caught him staring and gave him a shy smile. "What?"

"What, what?" Myles asked, at a loss for words.

"The way you're looking at me. It's like you want to say something, but you're not."

He shook his head, trying to clear the annoying fog that clouded it. "How long will Jacob be gone for?"

Hudson lifted one shoulder. "A few weeks. He left several days ago." She narrowed her eyes. "Will you be speaking with the apartment manager? He has a copy of all the keys. Perhaps it was him?"

Myles ran a hand through his brown hair. "My partner already spoke to him. He has an alibi for last night."

"Maybe someone else in the building has access to them?"

Worry shined in her eyes and he felt an unstoppable urge to calm her fears. "Don't you worry. We'll be looking into every possible angle." Myles studied her face. The bruise he'd expected to circle her eye was barely even noticeable underneath her makeup. And the way she'd styled her hair covered the wound above her brow. "How are you feeling? I wish you'd let the paramedics take you to the hospital. You could have a concussion, you know."

Hudson shook her head. "I'm fine. I don't even have a headache."

"Well, promise me you'll call if you start to feel bad. Sometimes it takes awhile for symptoms to appear." He drew in a breath before switching topics. "You seem a lot calmer than I expected. You must work well under pressure."

Something flashed across her face, something so sad it made him want to reach out and hold her.

When she spoke, it was only a hint of a sound. "Let's just say I've had some practice with pressure."

Myles glanced back at the open window, still stumped. He closed it and turned the latch. "How about you keep this locked for now? Lets not tempt fate." Figuring out how the intruder entered would have to wait. Right now, all he wanted to do was cheer Hudson up. "Are you hungry? There's a new Chinese place down the street I've been dying to try."

He followed her gaze to the kitchen table. Two plates sat there, one empty and one filled with eggs, bacon and toast.

She turned back to him and smiled. "I guess I didn't really eat breakfast." She inhaled then let it out nice and slow. "That sounds great, Myles. Thank you. For everything."

A wide grin spread over his face. Why did she make him feel like a teenager? Frank wouldn't be happy about this, but who said he had to find out? As much as he loved the guy, the last thing he needed was an authoritative tongue-lashing from his jaded partner. Myles could see whoever the hell he wanted to see, even if she was the victim of a crime they were both wrapped up in. Whether he wanted to be or not, Myles was invested.

"Well, then. Shall we go?" He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked to the door.