Narrow Escape Read online

  And then the man grabbed Charity.

  The little girl kicked and twisted in his arms, causing him to hesitate and try to get a better grip. Then the second man appeared from a different direction, saying something in Filipino. He glanced at Nathan with a look of contempt, then turned away, ignoring him.

  Nathan continued toward them, grabbing at a broomstick on the floor.

  The first man finally locked his arm firmly around Charity’s waist, keeping his body clear of her kicking feet and withstanding her flailing arms. The second man grabbed Arissa by the arm and tried to drag her toward the door.

  She lashed out with a fist that missed his nose by barely an inch. His grip on her arm tightened as he shook her. He said something harsh in Filipino. Arissa responded by drawing back and jabbing again with her fist. This time her blow connected with his chin and he jerked back, more surprised than hurt.

  Nathan swept the broom forward, swinging in a wide arc at both of the men’s feet. The unexpected blow made the first man stagger and drop Charity.

  Nathan didn’t pause but swung again, this time hitting the second man harder. That man’s grip on Arissa’s arm must have loosened because she ripped herself away and dove for Charity, shielding her with her body.

  Nathan rose to a sitting position. The first man approached him, his lip curled in a sneer at Nathan’s vulnerability.

  Nathan jabbed hard with the end of the broom right at the man’s throat.

  He stumbled back in agony, clutching his neck, a gurgling sound coming from his open mouth.

  Arissa was on her feet, reaching inside a nearby box. In a flash she’d hit the other man with the heavy metal stapler in her hand. He grunted in surprise, but it was all the distraction Nathan needed to again sweep the broom under his feet, knocking him to the ground. Nathan lunged forward and jabbed hard at his jaw, and the man passed out from the blow.

  The other one was still doubled over, clawing at his throat. Nathan rose up on one knee and threw a roundhouse punch that made him slump to the ground.

  Arissa reached for Charity. “Are you all right, nene?” Her eyes fell on her cell phone on the floor. She paused, then reached for it.

  “Leave it!” Nathan hissed to her.

  She ignored him, grabbing the phone and dialing. But strangely, she didn’t say anything. Whoever she called spoke a few short sentences to her, the tinny voice barely audible to Nathan.

  Then a third man’s voice called from the front of the storage unit, and Nathan heard his footsteps approaching, no effort made to be quiet.

  Arissa knelt beside Nathan and whispered, “Can you stand?”

  He nodded, getting to his feet. Pain stabbed through his leg but he gritted his teeth and hobbled a few footsteps.

  Arissa grabbed Charity, ignoring her cries, and hurried to the back of the storage unit. She lay the phone on the ground, then fumbled with the lever on the large metal rolling door.

  “They’re probably outside,” Nathan said. “They’ll be onto us in a second.” He couldn’t run with his leg, but maybe he could cover them with gunfire. But he was almost certain the gang members kept at least someone covering his car.

  “I know.” Arissa grunted as she unlocked the door lever. She picked up the phone and said to the caller, “Ready.”

  Nathan heard her caller shout, “Go!”

  Arissa swiftly pocketed the phone, then hauled the rolling door upward. It rattled open with a sound that filled the small storage unit.

  At the same time, Nathan heard the roar of a huge engine, the squeal of tires. On the other side of the open door, a shadow fell across the light of a flood lamp.

  Arissa darted out, her hand firmly holding Charity. Nathan brought up the rear, the pain screaming behind his clenched teeth as he limped behind them.

  A massive SUV was right in front of the storage unit door and Tito had opened the passenger door, his eyes wide. “Get in!” he shouted as bullets began flying. He ducked, and Nathan heard the sound of shots hitting the car frame.

  Arissa shoved Charity into the front, which had a bench seat, and scrambled in after her. Nathan yanked open the back door and dove inside. “Go!” he yelled to Tito.

  Tito hit the accelerator and they jerked forward, the open back door flapping as the SUV made a sharp turn to head out of the parking lot. More bullets hit the car and one spidered the back window. Arissa and Charity both screamed.

  Nathan dug his fingers into the foam seats as his body flopped sideways with the motion of the SUV. There was a huge bump that sent him weightless for a split second before he dropped and rolled to the floor.

  Then the SUV straightened and roared off, and the sound of bullets stopped.

  Nathan sat up and reached to close the open door. “Everyone okay—?” The sudden pain in his arm felt like a red-hot poker sticking into his bicep. He bit back a groan, but Arissa heard him and looked back.

  “What’s wrong?” Then her eyes widened and she began scrambling into the rear of the SUV.

  “What are you—” he mumbled.

  “Nathan, you were hit.”

  He looked stupidly down at his left arm, coated with blood. Arissa grabbed a T-shirt on the floor behind Tito’s seat and applied pressure. The pain exploded from his arm, and coupled with the sharp throbbing from his injured leg, he felt like his body was being ripped apart.

  “We need to get to a hospital,” Arissa said.

  “No.” Nathan groaned out the word. “The hospital would report a bullet wound, and we don’t know who might be an LAPD mole for the LSLs.”

  “Nathan, you’re going to bleed to death.” Arissa’s low voice shook.

  “Does Tito know anyone...?” he murmured.

  Arissa spoke to her cousin. “Tito, do you know anyone who could patch up a bullet wound, no questions asked?”

  He turned to briefly give her a look that was both panicked and annoyed. “I don’t run with people who get shot.”

  “A nurse? A doctor?”

  He thought a few moments, then shook his head. “Sorry, Arissa. I have a couple doctor friends, but they’re up in northern California.”

  Northern California... “Monica,” Nathan rasped. “Shaun’s girlfriend is a nurse.”

  “Shaun O’Neill? Liam’s brother? But he’s up in Sonoma.” Arissa frowned at him. “That’s seven hours away.”

  “I’ll call him. They can meet us halfway in central California somewhere.” Both Shaun and Monica would do this for him, he knew.

  “You want me to drive to central California?” Tito protested.

  “You’re not exactly safe in Los Angeles,” Arissa snapped at him. “I’m sure they got your license plate number.” Then she and her cousin both sobered. “I’m sorry about this, Tito.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Nathan said to him. “You saved our lives.”

  “How did they find us? I don’t understand.” Arissa increased pressure on Nathan’s wound.

  “I think I know,” Tito said. “When I got to the storage facility, I saw the gang members’ cars, but I recognized the Honda Accord.”

  “We saw that car when we entered the building,” Arissa said. “He was blasting his stereo.”

  “I thought I heard him come back while we were inside, but I couldn’t be sure,” Nathan said.

  “He’s Mikey, the younger brother of this girl I dated a few months ago,” Tito said. “He wanted to get into the LSLs.”

  “He was probably scoping out the storage facility to see if we’d show up,” Nathan said. “He left when he saw us and got the rest of the gang.”

  “But how did he know my family shares the storage unit?” Arissa asked. “We don’t exactly keep it a secret, but it’s not something most people know.”

  “Mikey’s sister knew,” Tito said grimly.
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br />   “Your ex-girlfriend?”

  “Sheila Laktaw.”

  Arissa drew in a breath. “I know her. My parents know her, too.”

  “Arissa, your mom asked me to get something and give it to my mom. Sheila was with me at the time so I dragged her along and she found out your parents share Mom’s storage unit. If the gang made it known they were looking for you, Sheila probably went to her brother with the info about the storage unit so he could get in favor with the gang leaders.”

  “That would explain why Mikey was staking out the storage facility.” Arissa shook her head. “I should have realized that if one of my exes knew about the storage unit, there was a chance one of my cousins’ friends would know about it, too.”

  “It’s not your job to be paranoid,” Nathan said. “It’s mine.” And he’d failed them.

  Tito stopped off and got some first-aid supplies, including a cleaner length of cloth for Arissa to apply pressure to Nathan’s wound. The bleeding slowed considerably. He called Shaun and arranged to meet him and Monica in a few hours.

  Tito headed north. None of them said much on the drive, which suited Nathan fine. His arm and his leg felt like they were being stabbed with every jolt of the car. He tried to massage his leg but it only hurt more. His hands curled into claws as they gripped his thigh above the old injury.

  Because of his leg, he had almost lost both Arissa and Charity. Because of his leg, the attacker had been able to cripple him ridiculously easily. He’d had to crawl toward them, underestimated by the two men. He’d had to fight from the floor, and he’d had to rely on Arissa’s help to protect them all.

  Next time, he’d be even less help. Arissa had come to him for protection and he’d only barely been able to save their lives. His fingertips dug into his leg, but he welcomed the pain this time because it fueled his anger. He had once been whole and competent and dangerous to his enemies. Now he was a joke. That day in the chop shop, he hadn’t just been hit by a bullet. His life had been shattered.

  And not by the gang member who had shot him. By God, who had completely abandoned him.

  So he had abandoned God.

  Didn’t this simply underscore the fact that God didn’t care about him?

  God sent Tito.

  Somehow, the thought made him even more angry. God had sent Tito, but He couldn’t have shifted that bullet in the chop shop just a few inches so it would damage repairable flesh rather than irreparably splintering his femur? Did God just have it in for him?

  His anger, coupled with his guilt that he couldn’t better protect Arissa and Charity, felt like a black cesspool sucking him under. He should never have assumed the storage unit was safe just because they’d visited once without incident. He should have been more wary, should have questioned if one of Arissa’s relatives had somehow let it slip about the unit. Even if the gang didn’t know which one, if they suspected Arissa had something of Mark’s, they could assume Arissa might visit the storage facility.

  But in the storage unit, when he’d been almost blinded by pain, he had nevertheless seen the gang member grab Charity first, not Arissa. The two men had been intending to take them both.

  Which meant that all their earlier assumptions might be false. They had assumed that the gang thought Arissa knew something about Mark, or had some item of his that they needed.

  But the gang needed Charity. It could be they planned to use her to get Arissa to cooperate, but it could also mean something he hadn’t thought of before.

  It could mean the gang needed something that Mark had passed down to his daughter.

  NINE

  “We’re here.” Tito took the off-ramp from the freeway to the rest stop where they had agreed to meet Shaun and Monica.

  Arissa turned in her seat to ask Nathan, “What car do they drive?”

  He shifted and winced. “I don’t remember Monica’s car, but Shaun drives an extended-cab pickup.”

  Arissa scanned the parking lot, and at this time of night it was almost empty except for an SUV and two minivans. “I guess they’re not here yet.”

  “I’ll text him.” Nathan got out his cell phone. Before, he hadn’t used his left arm at all, but now he seemed able to move his forearm and use his hand almost the same as normal.

  Tito parked and unbuckled his seat belt. “I’m going to use the bathroom.” He exited the car and headed to the dimly lit building.

  Nathan looked up from his phone. “Shaun says he’s about fifteen minutes away, according to his GPS unit.”

  “Let me look at your arm again.” Since Charity was now asleep in the backseat, Arissa couldn’t climb over as she had before, so she got out of the car. A stiff wind cut through her light jacket and made her hurry around to his side of the vehicle to open his door, which shielded her from the wind.

  In the light from the nearby streetlamp, his face looked pale. She touched his forehead, which was cool although not yet clammy. Not that she’d know what to do if it had been clammy. The wound seemed to have stopped bleeding. It was a deep gash, long and angry red. Arissa had been profoundly grateful it hadn’t been a hole in his arm like she’d feared when she’d first seen the blood. She gently replaced the bandage. “Monica will be here soon and she’ll take care of you. How’s your leg?”

  He turned his head away from her, and he started to shrug but stopped the motion with a sharp intake of breath. Tonight, his leg had been wounded for her, and he had been shot for her.

  He had been shot for her.

  She knew that he’d have been willing to die for them. He had kept attacking those men, even though his leg hadn’t been able to hold him, even though all he had was his wits, his strength and a broom.

  How could she ever have thought he’d fail her like her previous boyfriends? He hadn’t walked away at any time during the past few days, even when the danger had mounted. He had never wavered in being their protector.

  It had taken so much of him physically, and she felt stupid for not realizing how the loss of his leg strength would pain him both physically and emotionally. Every time he’d stumbled, he’d reacted like a wounded dog. For a man who was so strong, so brave, so dedicated to protecting others, every time his leg had failed him must have been as painful as a blow.

  She suddenly recalled the day in his hospital room, when he’d said such angry, bitter things to her—calling Mark a mole, blaming her brother for his leg, telling her to get out, he never wanted to see her again. The memory still hurt, but it was only a pinch now, and she thought she might understand why he’d reacted that way. He wouldn’t exactly have been in a calm frame of mind after being told he may never walk again, and then to have the sister of the man indirectly responsible show up...

  Yes, she could finally understand his reaction, and it gave her a measure of peace she hadn’t felt about it before. She touched him again, this time on his cheek. “Thank you, Nathan.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he growled and pulled away from her hand.

  His answer sparked annoyance. “So it would have been better for me and Charity to be kidnapped? Again?”

  That got him to look at her, although it was with surprise and a similar annoyance. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “Why are you acting as if what you did for us was so terrible?” she shot back. “There were two of them and I couldn’t have fought them both off by myself.”

  The annoyance faded from his eyes, but he dropped his gaze.

  She stood there in silence a long while, shivering in the wisps of wind that found her around the shield of the open door. She was about to step back and close the door when she suddenly burst out, “Nathan, are you ever going to forgive me? Forgive my family?”

  She hadn’t intended to say anything like that, but now that it was out, she searched his face, searched his eyes for her answ
er. His mouth could say anything, but she knew his eyes wouldn’t lie to her.

  Right now, his eyes were startled. Then they slid away. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you ever going to forgive me for coming to you when the gang was after us? For putting your family in danger, for getting you injured again?”

  “I’m not mad at you for that—”

  “Are you ever going to forgive me and my family for not knowing Mark was a mole?”

  He stared at her, his mouth cracked open. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  He sighed. “I don’t mean to make you feel like I blame you for what your brother did. It’ll just take a while for me to forgive Mark.”

  She stared at her shoes. “I understand.”

  She suddenly felt his hand against her cheek and looked up to see his eyes glittering dark gray in the feeble parking lot lights.

  “Arissa.” It was as if he said a hundred words with her name, words of pleading, frustration, sorrow, longing. His eyes dropped to her lips, and her breath caught in her throat. He leaned forward...

  Then jerked backward, pushing her away. His face clouded. “I don’t want your pity.”

  She was so angry, she was ready to bop him in the nose the way she’d swung at the man in the storage unit, but a flash of headlights and the soft purr of an engine prevented her. She looked up at an extended-cab pickup truck that headed toward them, parking next to Tito’s SUV.

  Tito came up to them as a tall man exited the truck, and a dark-haired woman stepped from exited the passenger-side door while holding a lumpy satchel.

  “Thanks for coming. I’m Arissa, and this is my cousin, Tito.”

  “I’m Shaun and this is Monica,” the man said, but immediately turned to Nathan and said in a low voice, “How’re you doing, old man?”

  “Stop talking to me like I’m dying,” Nathan snapped.

  Shaun grinned.

  “Let me move Charity to the front seat so you can climb into the truck to examine him.” Arissa went to the other side and extricated a sleepily protesting Charity, settling her in the front seat, where she curled up into a ball and went back to sleep.