I open my mouth to tell him I’m down for tonight, but Jess shows up.
Along with that weasel Jared who blatantly leers at me like a creeper.
I’ve been counting my lucky stars since I’ve been back in the Connecticut office because I haven’t seen much of them.
Sadly, my luck’s run out.
“Hey,” Jess says, her eyes ping ponging between me and Juan. “Can you two go pick up some refreshments for the staff meeting this afternoon?”
Juan and I exchange a what the fuck glance because being the gofer isn’t in either of our job descriptions.
“No problem,” I tell her, because like it or not, she’s the one who signs my paychecks.
She gives me a saccharine smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks.”
I swivel my chair back around, but she clears her throat. “Kit?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d like you to go now please.”
“Sure thing.”
After they step out, Juan hisses, “When did we become interns?”
I almost spill the beans about what happened in Vegas, but I can’t because I signed that stupid NDA.
Sighing, I shut my computer down and grab my purse. “When I pissed off the bosses.”
I examine the items in the shopping cart. “Do you think this is good enough?”
I’m not really sure what Jess meant by refreshments, so I just grabbed a couple of dips and vegetable platters from the local grocery store.
Shrugging, Juan unwraps another candy bar and takes a bite. “If not, it’s their own fault for dumping it on us.”
True dat.
“All right, let’s go check out.”
Juan clutches his stomach. “Oh, girl. Wait a minute.”
“What’s wrong?”
Grimacing, he tosses his half-eaten candy bar at me. “I have to drop the kids off at the pool.” He takes off running. “I’ll meet you in the car.”
I zero in on the four empty wrappers in the cart. Juan’s chocolate addiction could give Willy Wonka a run for his money.
“That’s what you get for eating so much sugar.”
I cradle the phone between my neck and shoulder so I can load the grocery bags into the trunk of my car. “This Saturday’s not gonna work for me, Reggie. I’m going wedding dress shopping with Breslin.”
“But your grandmother is requesting your attendance for brunch.”
He says it like she’s the queen of fucking Sheba.
“Tell her I’m sorry, but I’m not blowing off my best friend. I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll let her know you’re unwilling to oblige her.”
Good grief. “Thanks, sugar pie.”
I hear his usual huff of annoyance before the line goes dead.
I’m placing the last bag into my trunk when I notice a car speeding down the lane I’m in. I assume the driver is going to slam on the brakes any minute—because hello—but the vehicle accelerates.
And it’s headed straight for me.
“Whoa,” I shout. “Slow dow—” Adrenaline mixed with pure fear floods my system and I dive out of the way.
A loud crashing sound assaults my ears as the black SUV smashes into my shopping cart before taking off.
Holy shit. What the actual fuck was that?
“Oh, my God!” Juan screeches, darting across the parking lot. “Are you okay?” He drops on the ground beside me. “What happened?”
That’s just it. I don’t know.
Everything happened so quickly I could barely register what was going on…let alone see the driver or take down a license plate.
“Ouch.”
White-hot pain shoots up my ankle and when I look down, I see that my favorite pair of jeans are ripped at the kneecaps and there’s a stream of blood oozing out.
That said, a scraped knee and twisted ankle is so much better than the alternative.
Even still, the whole thing was utterly terrifying. Especially since the driver showed no signs of slowing down.
My insides lurch. It was like they intentionally wanted to hit me.
“Juan?”
“Yeah?”
“I think someone tried to run me over.”
Chapter 26
Kit
Head spinning and legs still feeling like Jell-O, I open my front door.
I told Juan I wanted to make a pitstop at home so I could change and get cleaned up before heading back to work.
I catch Preston jogging down the staircase as I enter the house. Shit.
His eyes go big as he takes in my bloody ripped jeans. “What happened to you?”
Ignoring that question, I hobble my way toward the kitchen. “Do we have any ice?”
“Don’t know.” Preston’s hot on my trail like a bloodhound tracking a scent. “Answer the question.”
I open the freezer and take out an ice pack, but Preston snatches it out of my hand.
“Kit.”
Fuck a duck.
I take a deep breath. Then another.
“Okay, don’t freak out. But I think someone kind of, sort of…tried to kill me.”
Preston’s expression morphs from concern to shock…and then anger all in the span of a few seconds. “What do you mean you think someone tried to kill you?”
“Well,” I begin, taking a seat on a kitchen stool. “Jess sent me and Juan out to get refreshments for our staff meeting today.”
Preston places the ice pack on my knee. “Go on.”
“I was putting the groceries we got into my trunk when I saw a car speeding toward me. I yelled for them to slow down because they were going really fast, but they slammed on the gas instead.” A swell of anxiety rolls through me. “If I hadn’t jumped out of the way in time, they would have run me over.”
“Christ.” His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath. “Did you or Juan get a good look at the driver or license plate?”
I shake my head. “Juan wasn’t there, but everything happened so fast I didn’t have time to.”
Hell, I barely had time to register what was going on.
Those gray orbs darken. “What do you mean Juan wasn’t there. Where the fuck was he?”
“He left to use the bathroom while I took the groceries out to the car.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like that because a muscle in his jaw bunches and the hand holding the ice pack tenses.
“That’s…” His voice trails off and his eyes become tiny slits. “Motherfucker.”
“Motherfucker what?” I probe, because the ominous look in his eyes is giving me the heebie-jeebies.
He slams the ice pack on the counter. “Where were you going when you were attacked in New York, Kit?”
“I was heading out to get breakfast for me and Juan.” I’m seriously having trouble following whatever his train of thought is. “Why?”
“That’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
Good golly, Miss Molly. The implication would be laughable if he wasn’t so serious.
“Hold the phone. You think Juan had something to do with this? Are you crazy? He would never hurt a fly.” I place the ice pack back on my knee. “Hell, if anyone has it out for me it’s…”