Saving Serena (Hawk Security #1)

Chapter 3

Grace

I didn’t want to spend the money for the valet, and the only available parking was on the side streets, so I turned left out of the restaurant toward my car. I walked as fast as I could in these heels, retrieving my car keys from my purse as I went.

What kind of idiot would kidnap my cousin Elliot? Nobody cared whether he lived or died except me. A few thousand for Elliot? Life was certainly cheap to these people.

If they knew anything about me, they would have asked for the necklace Mom gave me. It was worth more than that.

The bright lights and traffic of the main street gave way to dim lighting and no cars when I turned onto the side street where I’d parked.

I got the prickle at the back of my neck that any woman walking alone in the dark sometimes got. Halfway down the block, a shadow detached from a building ahead of me. On any other night, I would have turned around and returned to the bright lights behind me, but Elliot needed me. I crossed to the other side and palmed my key between my fingers as a weapon like Terry had taught me years ago.

Terry was a former SWAT officer with the LAPD, and as terrible as his personality was, he knew a shitload more than I did about self-defense.

Passing between the parked cars on the opposite side of the street, I lost sight of the guy. I assumed it was a man. Dread crept up my spine as I hurried along.

He came out from between two cars. “There you are.”

Heart pounding, I turned and ran.

A few steps later, he grabbed my hair and yanked.

I cried out.

Fuck, that hurt.

My scalp burned from the pain.

Beefy arms wound around me and lifted me off the ground.

“Where is fucking Spider?”

The brute slammed me against a car and spun me, pinning my arms. His breath was heavy with garlic.

Spider was Elliot’s nickname with the bad crowd he hung out with.

A second skinny dude came out of the shadows. “Yeah, where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Why ask about Elliot? Restrained like this, I couldn’t bring my hand up to slash him like I’d been taught.

Skinny Dude yanked my purse away and rummaged through it.

“I got the phone. We can find him.”

“Maybe.” The big one scowled, shaking me. “Where is he hiding?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Not good enough.”

The big guy punched me in the face.

My head snapped back against the car window. Pain flashed across my cheek, and my vision blurred. I brought up the hand he’d released and slashed him across the face with my key.

He howled but didn’t release his grip.

“Bitch.”

He pulled back to hit me again.

My eyes had partially acclimated to the dim light. When his grip loosened, I tried to knee him, but my dress was too tight.

The brute retaliated with another punch.

My nose erupted in pain, and I tasted blood. My God, why did he have to hit so hard?

“Yeah, fuck her up good,” Skinny Dude urged.

“Tell us where the little weasel—” The brute’s question was cut short when a fist from nowhere landed on the side of his head.

“Get off her,” Terry roared.

The big man stumbled to the side, releasing me, then regained his footing.

“Grace?”

“I’m okay,” I lied.

Everything depended on me getting out of here in time to meet with the kidnapper.

“Who the fuck are you?” Skinny Dude yelled as he pulled a knife.

My heart stopped. The rules of the party tonight had been that the Hawk people would come unarmed, and this looked bad.

The big guy shook off the effect of Terry’s punch and straightened. Things went from bad to worse when he pulled a knife as well and advanced.

“You guys don’t want to do this,” Terry warned.

The corny movie line got a laugh from Skinny Dude.

The brute kept coming. “We’re going to fuck you up so—” He didn’t get a chance to finish his threat before Terry launched a series of hits and kicks that made a Jackie Chan karate movie look like slow motion.

His knife hit the ground, and Terry kicked it under a car.

The brute crumpled to the ground, wheezing after a final throat punch from Terry.

Skinny Dude lunged.

Terry sidestepped and threw him against the wall. My phone clattered to the ground.

The guy bounced off the wall, turned, and ran right back into Terry’s fist. His head snapped back with the sickening sound of crunching cartilage. He ended up motionless on the sidewalk.

Running footsteps approached.

“Terry,” Zane called.

“Here,” Terry answered, picking up Skinny Dude’s knife. “These two attacked Grace.”

“I have to go,” I announced.

Time was slipping away, and I had to meet the kidnapper.

Terry ignored me. “Call Constance and take these two to our guest rooms at Hawk.” Constance was the ex-Secret Service woman working at Hawk, and had just left the party.

I’d been inside their building and seen the holding cells they referred to as guest accommodations . I moved away from the car.

Terry held up a hand to block my path. “Grace got hit in the head. I’ll take her to get checked out.”

Zane flipped on the light of his phone. “Who are they?”

Skinny Dude was bleeding—a lot.

I felt a sickening feeling as the world went from dim to black.