Someone grabbed her and jerked her inside. The door behind her slammed shut, closing her in the pitch-black storage room. Before she could react, an arm grabbed her around the neck at the same time a hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream and tasted leather.
The more she struggled the tighter the grip became. Fear rose fast and furious inside her, but she listened to instinct and stilled.
“Smart lady. Now listen up.” The gruff male voice sounded in her ear, and she caught a whiff of his breath, a revolting mixture of stale liquor and cigarettes. “Where’s the money?”
She shook her head from side to side. Catching her silent message, he eased the pressure of his hand off her mouth, but the bite of his fingers still stung. “I don’t know…”
He jerked back on his arm, causing a shot of pain in her throat. “Wrong answer.”
Kayla had no idea what he was talking about, but he obviously wouldn’t believe her, and she wanted out of there alive and in one piece. “Okay.” The one word came out on a hoarse croak. She forced a painful swallow. “There’s no money on the premises. I…”
“Kayla?” Catherine’s voice sounded from the outside room. “Are you back there? The light’s on out here and you can’t hide forever. I want details.”
Her assailant stiffened and muttered a harsh curse. He released his hold and shoved her hard. She stumbled headfirst into the concrete wall and, with the impact, dropped to the floor. Pain lanced through her skull just as the back door opened enough to show a sliver of light and allow her intruder to disappear, leaving her in darkness again.
“Kayla, I know you’re in…” Catherine swung open the door and hit the switch on the wall, bathing the room in a harsh, bright light. “Oh my God, what happened?”
Lifting her head was an effort, but Kayla managed. She took in the shambles of her once neat storage room and groaned. “He trashed the place.”
“He who? What happened to you?” Her sister bent down beside her.
“I’m okay.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look it.”
“I’m fine.” The steady pounding in her skull made those words a lie. Fighting the pain, she struggled to stand. A wave of nausea made it an impossible feat.
“Sit.” Catherine eased her back down and propped her against the wall. “I’m calling the police.”
Kayla nodded only to discover even that was a mistake. She closed her eyes. She didn’t know what the intruder wanted, but he’d been convinced he would find it here.
Catherine pulled her cell phone from her purse and made the call, then she knelt down and put a soft hand on Kayla’s shoulder.
“What could he want?” Kayla’s head swam and she couldn’t think anymore.
“Stay here. I’m just going into the bathroom,” Catherine said.
Water sounded and then Catherine returned. “Don’t try to talk. Here.” She placed a wet paper towel on Kayla’s forehead.
The soggy rag dripped water down her face, and Kayla laughed despite the pain and her tears. “You’ll never challenge Florence Nightingale.”
“Maybe not, but we’ve been tending each other’s scrapes for years, and I’m the best you’ve got.” With a forced smile, Catherine balled up the sopping paper and tossed it onto the floor.
She grabbed Kayla’s hand and eased herself beside her, huddling with her sister as they’d done many times as children. Kayla couldn’t stop the uncontrollable urge to unburden herself to her sister—the only person she could trust.
With her head on Catherine’s shoulder, Kayla opened up about last night with Kane, talking until she was talked out.
And Catherine, for once, remained silent, for which Kayla was grateful.
“The police will be here in a few minutes,” Catherine said at last. “And they’ll take care of everything.”
* * *
“I already told you I walked in through the front door, and he jumped me in the back.” Raising her voice caused a set of drums to go off in Kayla’s head. She placed Catherine’s next attempt at first aid—a cold, wet, but thankfully wrung-out rag—against her scalp. She exhaled hard, fighting the nausea.
“The paramedics will be here any second.”
Kayla squinted at the young police officer as he spoke.
“Now back to what happened. He was looking for money, and you claim there is none.” The man stared at Kayla as if he didn’t believe a word she said.
Catherine stepped into the man’s direct line of vision. “Is this your first day on the job? Is that why you can’t see she’s the victim? Is this how they train you today, to attack the helpless? Look, buddy, cop or no cop, I want your badge number and then I want your badge.”
Kayla swallowed a groan at her sister’s attitude, yet she couldn’t understand the police treatment, either. Sirens began an insistent wail in the distance. At least she’d get an ice-pack rather than a barrage of questions she was too weak and nauseous to answer.
The officer eased back but not off. He lowered himself until he was at Kayla’s eye level. “Look, the guy trashed the back room and did a number on you. Obviously, he was looking for cash. Why? A little help from you will make things go easier.”
“For who?” Catherine jumped in. “She’s not going to do your job for you, and I want to know why you’ve been grilling her like she’s a criminal instead of helping the victim.”
“I’d like to know the answer to that, too.”
Kayla would recognize that voice anywhere. “Kane.”
He’d come back. A rush of powerful emotions hit her so fast her battered body and foggy mind couldn’t decipher them now. She pushed herself to a standing position and turned as quickly as the pain in her head would allow.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Catherine asked.
Kayla winced at her sister’s harsh tone. She never should have told Catherine even sketchy information about last night with Kane.
Kayla glanced at him. He stood in the entryway to the back room looking angry and
