Stalker--Abducted by Quin Zayne & Q. Zayne

Author:Quin Zayne & Q. Zayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alpha, curvy, plus size, steamy
Publisher: Hughes Enterprise
Published: 2024-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Fight

BACK AT HER PLACE, I drank coffee all night. This time, nothing would get by me.

My instincts told me danger was on the way.

I’d used pillows and one of Hannah’s wigs to make it look like she fell asleep on the couch.

I kept in the shadows of the entryway as he jimmied the kitchen door. He padded into the living room and made his grab for my decoy.

He cussed when he made contact.

I sprang at him, but he was fast. He shoved me and ran out the kitchen.

My lungs burned as I fought to stay on him. This was the end of it. I wasn’t going to let him get away to terrorize her again.

Halfway down the path toward the stairs that went down the cliff, I caught him. The man was solid muscle, not the loser I expected.

I grappled with him. He was shorter than me, but stocky and maddened.

The guy got a desperate hit through my guard, bloodied my nose. While lights flashed in my vision, he squirmed away.

He teetered on the rocks at the trail edge and lost his footing. Throwing out his arms, he stared at me. His eyes widened as his desperate arm wheeling pitched him off the cliff. Rocks clattered. His scream went on a long time and ended in a crunch. I glanced over to be sure. He lay on the rocks, his head at an angle from his body. His neck and more was broken. The splay of his legs and arms looked like a tossed marionette. He was over.

A wavelet lapped at one of his expensive running shoes.

The sharp rusty brown rocks framed him like bad teeth and the Pacific spit froth around him from each small breaker. It was a placid day. Fucking beautiful place to die.

He was after Hannah, and he tried to kill me, but the panic in his eyes stayed with me, his moment of knowing that nothing he could do would change the ending once he made his mis-step.

Coming after Hannah was his mistake. Stepping off the trail seemed an inevitable trajectory of that screw-up.

The dead man’s gorgeous target ran up to me, cheeks flushed, hair brushing her cheeks.

She scanned me as though checking that I was corporeal. A quick glance over the edge and she hugged herself, reflexively stepped back from the cliff.

I joined her, keeping my distance.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes, no doubt about it.”

“What do we do?”

“Looks like an accident to me, nothing to do with us.”

“Oh.” She nodded. I could see her working it over, what would happen if we got involved.

“Let’s get out of here.” I headed for the house and she walked in step with me.

“Hold up.” As we were about to reach her property, she grabbed my arm and searched my eyes.

“It’s not you. You’re not the stalker.” Hannah brushed my hair back from my forehead, squinting as she examined me for damage.

Her fingers felt cool. The pain in my nose throbbed like a strobe light. I wanted a steak. Two steaks.

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