“Anything else?”
“Yes. Give poor Bastian his fork back.”
“I’ll think about it.”
After dessert—which Sebastian didn’t try to feed to Liam—the four of them finally ambled toward the exit. Devante had his hand resting on Jaz’s lower back. Liam silently dared the man to slip it to her ass and give him an excuse to accidentally shove him into a wall. He didn’t. In fact, after pointedly not looking at Liam, he gave Jaz a chaste kiss on the cheek and promised to call before walking off with Sebastian.
Jaz crossed her arms and stared at her date’s retreating back, but it was hard to make out her thoughts. Liam handed the valet his car ticket.
“I’ll be right back,” Jaz said.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No!” She held up a hand, the other rubbing her creased forehead. “I just want to catch up with Devante and thank him for the evening. And I want to do it without you glaring over my shoulder and scaring the piss out of him.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did and you’re proud of it. And now, to make up for that, you’re just going to stay here and wait for the car. He’s literally two blocks away, and you can see everything.” Without waiting for Liam’s consent, Jaz turned and jogged off.
Liam gave her a five-second head start and jogged after her anyway.
Right in time to see a man step out from one of those small side alleys Liam hated and grab the clutch hanging off Jaz’s wrist.
9
Jaz
Jaz’s heels made a crunching noise on the gritty cement as she took a breath of fresh Colorado night air and hurried after Devante. Jaz hated her stilettos. She’d never paid much mind to road cracks before, but having needle heels for footing while trying to make haste changed her perspective. With her attention divided between hurrying and keeping from sprawling on the sidewalk, she’d no notion that someone was near her until a rough hand jerked hard on her clutch.
The wrist strap dug into Jaz’s skin, the force yanking her sideways. She tried to pull back against it, but the damn shoes gave way. Her balance faltered together with her breath. Then she was falling onto the pavement, the clutch strap still digging into her wrist. Dull impact, then stinging pain and a rush of terror pounded Jaz in rapid succession. She gasped for breath and gagged on a mouthful of putrid air.
“Let go, bitch.” The scruffy face of a dirty thug in stained camos came into focus. He stank of urine and booze, and his grubby hand was still tugging on Jaz’s clutch. Behind him, a similarly bedraggled man was looking around in jerky motions.
Jaz gripped her wrist strap tighter and screamed. A barrage of fury and fear pounded through her, her vision narrowing to her tiny slice of the alley. To the stench of the putrid man yanking on her clutch, the pain of pavement scraping skin, the outlines of garbage cans disappearing into shadows down the road.
The thug raised his booted foot, the heavy heel aimed to stomp down on Jaz’s wrist. She tried to scramble back from the coming pain, but before the thug’s boot could connect, another foot cut into her line of vision. Moving faster than Jaz thought possible Liam kicked the thug’s knee, sending the man to the ground. Another crisp strike uppercut into the bastard’s chin had him releasing Jaz’s purse.
Moving smoothly as a predator, Liam spun toward the second man—who’d picked up a brick somewhere. Seeing Liam’s attention focused on him, however, the brick man dropped the makeshift weapon and took off down the alley. Thug one scrambled to his feet and limped after him into the shadows.
Liam shifted his weight, as if considering going after the men. The thought of being left alone sent a new wave of terror through Jaz. She kicked her feet, trying to get off the damn high heels that had tripped her, but they were strapped on with leather. She clawed at the straps. Around her, someone was shouting something. Maybe several people. She didn’t know. Her knees stung. Her hands stung. Most of all, her whole ordered world was spinning about.
“Jaz! Are you all right?” Sebastian was there, doubled over out of breath.
She didn’t know what to answer. If that boot had come down on her wrist, if Liam had been there one second later, her whole world would have ended.
“You’re all right.” Liam’s stone-calm face filled her vision. Unlike Bastian, Liam wasn’t asking—he was telling. And he was so certain about it that Jaz couldn’t argue. Strong hands closed around Jaz’s shoulders, lifting her to her feet. Still holding on to her, Liam surveyed the alley and street. They had a small crowd gathering about them now, Devante staying somewhere in the back.
Jaz’s heart pounded, and every muscle in her body thrummed.
“Sebastian. Get my car from the valet.” Liam ordered. He wasn’t even breathing hard. One arm still around Jaz, he pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons to call in the assault. He listed the details to the police with the kind of matter-of-fact detachment people reserved for household chores and grocery lists and, despite having been on scene for less time than she, managed to capture the details of height, weight, and facial features she didn’t remember at all.
Even spoken calmly, the word “attack” made her feel cold, as if someone had dunked her entire body into a frozen-over lake.
Cradling the phone against his shoulder, Liam pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her.
“I’m fine.” Her protest was halfhearted. She realized her dress had been torn so that her less-than-ample cleavage became far more pronounced. She moved her arm to cover it, then noticed that her palms were bleeding. The gashes weren’t deep. Scrapes, really. But they stung.
Sebastian pulled up, and Liam shuffled Jaz into the passenger’s seat before taking over the wheel and driving them home. They didn’t say anything all the way to his place, and Jaz was grateful for the silence as she wrangled her errant thoughts into place. Once inside, however, Jaz wedged herself into the corner of his couch instead of retreating to her room. “Was that my hate mailer, you think?” she asked. “Or someone else trying to keep me from competing?”
“I don’t think so.” Liam retrieved a first aid kit and a wet washcloth. “I’ll look into it and see what we can find for an ID, but from the scent and looks of it, they were after your wallet, not your career.”
“Just a random mugging,” Jaz said softly. “If I’d just let them have the damn purse, they would have left.”
He settled next to her, his hazel eyes scrutinizing. “You could shift your training schedule to work in self-defense practice in place of a few weekly runs.”
Jaz shook her head. Liam meant well, but he didn’t understand how much of her life was riding on that Clash of the Titans Challenge. “I can’t risk it. Same way I can’t risk going rollerblading or playing soccer. There’s too much of a chance of getting hurt.”
“I’m not going to go after you the way I train with Kyan.” Taking her wrist, Liam dabbed at the scrape. She pulled back from the sting, but his grip was unrelenting. It was comforting and annoying at the same time. “Contrary to popular opinion, I can use my brain when forced.”
“Things still happen. A tweaked wrist. A turned ankle. I can’t. Not now.”