Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"I feel ridiculous," Alisa muttered as the elevator descended to the lobby. "I should be able to walk into that garage and get my car. I work here, for God's sake. How am I going to keep avoiding it?"

"It will feel easier after the first time. And it's not a problem."

"Well, I appreciate it." She let out another sigh. "I can't believe my parents' house is on fire. And I have to take care of this. My mom can't do it. My dad isn't around. It's just me."

"I'm assuming you don't have siblings."

"No, I'm an only child."

Another thing they had in common. He knew very well the pressure that came from being the only child.

"Every day some new bad thing happens," she murmured as they exited the elevator on the lobby level and then walked through the front doors of the hospital, taking the path to the parking garage. "My life used to be calm and kind of boring, to be honest, but everything changed about a week ago when my mother started feeling sick. The problems have snowballed since then. Now, everything feels like it's upside down and backward."

Were Alisa's problems all just coincidence? A rough patch in her life? Had she just been in the wrong place at the wrong time last night? Or was there something else going on?

He couldn't shake the feeling there was something else happening, and if her attack by Kashin was not random, then Novikov had orchestrated it.

Was it possible this very ordinary American nurse was tied to a Russian terrorist?

He wanted to pepper her with questions, but they had reached the stairwell leading down to the employee level, and even though they weren't touching, he could feel her shaking. He offered her his hand, and after a momentary hesitation, she took it.

As he wrapped his fingers around hers, he was struck by the heat between them. He reminded himself he was just taking care of a victim of a crime. This wasn't personal.

But it felt a little more personal than it should have, and that surprised him.

He never had a problem compartmentalizing while on the job, but there was something about Alisa that made that difficult.

As they entered the bottom level, she moved even closer to him.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know," she said, but she didn't sound confident.

As they neared her vehicle, Alisa's foot crunched down on a piece of glass left over from the shooting the night before, and she paused, staring down at a few pieces of glass still next to her car. "It really happened, didn't it?" she murmured. "A part of me still wants to believe it was a nightmare." She turned her gaze to his, her eyes pleading for reassuring words.

He was more of a man of action than words, but he had to try. "It happened, but it's over," he said. "Kashin will never get close to you again. You're safe."

She nodded. "Thank you for saying that. I guess I should be grateful it wasn't my window that got shot out. What happened to the other car?"

"I don't know. Security was going to find the owner and help them get their window fixed." As she made no move to open her car, he said, "Do you have your keys?"

"They're in my bag, but the keys seem to freak me out. I keep remembering how I couldn't pull them out in time to get in the car before he reached me. My damn bag is too big. They keep falling in between things, and it takes me too long to get them out."

"There's no rush now. Take your time." He could have offered to go through her bag and find her keys, but he thought she needed to meet that goal in order to feel like she was getting her life back.

She put her hand in her bag, and a moment later, she pulled out her keys. She gave him a triumphant look, even though her hand was visibly shaking as she tried to hit the button to open the lock. Eventually, the lock clicked as the keys slid from her hand and fell to the ground.

Alisa bit down on her lip. "Damn," she muttered.

"I've got them." He quickly grabbed her keys and opened the driver's side door. Then he hesitated. "I don't think you should drive, Alisa. You're trembling."

"I'll be okay. I have to be. The house is on fire. I have to get there. And I have to go now before my mom is done with her test."

He debated for a split second. Victor's lawyer wouldn't be there for another twenty minutes. "How far away is your mother's house?"

"About ten minutes," she said. "They only live a few miles from here. I can make it."

"I'll drive you," he said, making a quick decision. "We'll check out the situation at the house, and then I'll bring you back."

"Really?" She gave him a hopeful look that twisted something inside his gut. She was a beautiful woman, and he had a hard time looking away from her.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I have a little time. I have to wait for the lawyer, anyway."

"Thank you, Jason. Is it okay if I call you that?"

He probably should have told her to call him Agent Colter to keep some barrier between them, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. "It's fine. Let's do this."

He slid behind the wheel as she moved around the car and got into the passenger seat. Before starting the car, he sent Savannah a quick text of explanation and told her to start without him if the attorney got there before he returned.

Alisa fastened her seat belt, and he pulled out of the parking spot. Her Toyota was at least ten years old and not a car someone would steal if they had other options. Since she'd been the only one in the garage at the time of the carjacking, he had to assume she had been the target and not the car.

He drove up the ramp to the main level and then exited the garage. The medical center and several adjacent buildings were on the top of a hill next to the 405 Freeway, and the only way in and out of the area was a two-lane road that wound down the hillside for about two miles before reaching a busy intersection where the Wexford University campus was located. From there, one could head in a variety of directions: Westwood, Santa Monica, or Culver City.

He'd lived in Los Angeles for four years now, but he still wasn't used to the urban sprawl and the variety of cities and neighborhoods that ran into each other.

Alisa cracked her window, taking several deep breaths. She was clearly happy to be out of the parking garage.

As he started down the hill, he tapped the brakes, but they didn't immediately respond. He tried again, pressing the pedal to the floor. Nothing!

His heart sped up as his brain computed the problem .

"You're going too fast," Alisa said, giving him a frightened look. "Please, slow down, Jason."

"I can't." His voice tightened as he pressed the brake pedal again. Nothing. His pulse spiked. "The brakes aren’t working." He downshifted, his hands gripping the wheel tighter, but the car surged forward.

"Oh, my God!" Alisa gasped, her eyes wide with fear. "Jason, we’re not going to stop, are we?"

He didn't have time to answer her. He couldn't deal with her fear and the problem at hand. In about five minutes, this road was going to take them straight into an intersection filled with cars and people. He had to make a move before then, but there was nothing on either side of the road but rocky hillsides filled with trees and brush. He was going to have to find something to soften their landing.

"Hang on," he told her.

"I can't die in this car, Jason. I have to be there for my mom."

"We're not going to die," he vowed. But he had no idea how he was going to keep that promise.

As they flew down the steep road, Jason searched for a place to turn off, something that might provide a slowdown but not kill them. There weren't any good choices and as their speed increased, he no longer worried about the intersection down below because he wasn't sure they could make the next turn. They'd only passed one car coming up, but that could change at any moment.

This was his opportunity. It wasn't good, but he had run out of options.

He swung the wheel to the left, crossing the lane next to him and flying through a wood barrier that barely slowed their speed. The car bounced off rocks and bushes, the windows shattering, dirt spattering the windows.

Alisa cried out in terror. But he couldn't look at her or comfort her. He was trying to steer the vehicle away from a patch of trees coming up, but his vision was almost gone .

A lot of things ran through his head, his thoughts going as fast as the car. But only one jumped out at him. He didn't want to die, either.

He clung to the wheel, trying to keep them upright. But his control was just an illusion, and suddenly they were both thrown forward, the airbags deploying as the car slammed into what felt like a brick wall but were probably the trees he'd been trying to avoid. The car screamed as loudly as Alisa as it crumpled and broke apart.

He hit the airbag hard, feeling the wheel behind it as his head crashed forward, and everything went black.

Alisa's heart was beating out of her chest, her screams finally ending as she realized that they'd come to a stop, and she was still alive. She was still breathing. She could hardly believe it.

She shoved at the airbag, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she struggled to sit up. Her seat was crushed forward, but when she wiggled her toes, relief coursed through her—she could still feel her legs.The pain was there, dull and throbbing, but not debilitating. She was alive.

As she turned her head toward the left, her heart jumped at the sight of Jason slumped over the wheel. There was blood dripping down his face, and his eyes were closed.

Oh, God!

"Jason," she said, her voice hoarse from the screaming.

He didn't move.

She shifted in her seat as best she could, putting her hand on his shoulder. She was afraid to shake him in case he had a neck or back injury. She moved a little closer and put her fingers on his neck, praying for a pulse.

There was a heartbeat. Faint, but steady. Relief hit her like a tidal wave. He was alive!

"Jason," she repeated. "We made it. "

Even as she said the words, she wondered where exactly they'd made it to. She couldn't see anything because tree branches were coming through the broken glass, and the windows were covered in dirt. But there were small slivers of light that she clung to. They weren't dead, and that was an enormous victory in itself. But she didn't know how badly Jason was hurt. Nor did she know if she could get out of the car. Even if she could get out, should she try? What if the car slid further down the hill? The wild ride could start up again, only this time there wouldn't be any airbags blowing up to protect them from a fatal injury.

She looked over at Jason again, knowing he was the real reason she was alive. And she would hate herself forever if he didn't survive along with her. It was her fault he was here. If she hadn't been scared to go into the garage, he wouldn't have offered to go with her. If she hadn't been shaky, he wouldn't have offered to drive her to her parents' house.

Her parents' house!

Had it burned to the ground?

What the hell was happening? Why was her life falling apart in such a spectacular fashion?

But that wasn't the most important question.

She shuddered as reality smacked her as hard as the airbag had done. This wasn't an accident. Her brakes had been fine yesterday. She'd had her car checked out six weeks ago. They'd told her she wouldn't have to replace the brakes for at least another year.

Why would they suddenly fail? Had someone tampered with her car while it had sat in the garage overnight? But why? Why would anyone want to hurt her?

Was this tied to what had happened last night?

Jason had told her she'd been a random target. Maybe that wasn't true. Her breath was coming fast as anxiety and panic ripped through her. She had to get out of this car. She had to get Jason out. That was what she needed to think about right now. The rest would have to wait.

"Jason," she said again. "Please wake up." She could hear the desperation in her voice and maybe he could, too, because he started to stir.

"Easy," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder again. "Don't move too fast."

He lifted his head with a groan, squinting as he opened his eyes, and his stunning blue gaze almost made her want to cry.

"You have blood on your face," she told him. "I don't know where else you're hurt. Do you have any pain anywhere? Can you feel your legs?" She was worried that the way the car had crumpled, his legs might have gotten crushed.

He blinked a few times and then sat up straighter, his gaze focusing on her. He pulled his hand out from under the airbag and touched the blood on his face. As he took his fingers away, he stared at the blood for a second and then glanced back at her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I think so. I feel better now that you're awake. I'm so sorry, Jason. This is my fault. I shouldn't have let you drive me."

"This isn't your fault."

"I had my car checked out six weeks ago. The brakes were fine."

"I'm sure they were fine until someone messed with them," he said soberly. "This wasn't an accident, Alisa."

"It doesn't look that way. We need to get out of here, but I'm afraid to move. What if opening the doors makes the car slide farther down the hill?"

He looked around, assessing the situation. "I think we were pretty close to the bottom when we stopped."

"You mean when we crashed?" she asked dryly.

He gave her a faint smile. "I prefer to think of it as a hard landing. But we're alive, and things can only get better from here. "

"Are you sure? Because every minute of my day seems to get worse. And while I am ecstatic to be alive, I'm worried about my mom and her house and how we're going to get out of this car and back to the hospital. Do you think someone saw us go off the road?"

"I didn't see any other cars. I had to make the turn, Alisa. It was our only chance."

"You were amazing. Saving my life is getting to be a habit—bad for you, good for me."

"Well, I had a vested interest in saving your life this time." He shifted in his seat. "I don't believe I've broken anything."

"Which seems like a miracle."

"You had good airbags."

"I never ever thought I'd use them," she said. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me. And I still don't know why it's happening."

"We'll figure it out. In the meantime…" He put his hand on the door handle. As he moved it, the door gave a loud creak, swung open, and then fell to the ground, making the car rock and sending a wave of new terror through her.

She held her breath, praying the car would settle back into place. Eventually, it did.

"We're good," Jason said.

"No. We're definitely not good. We're barely okay."

"I know I'm a pessimist. But you're giving me a run for my money," he said lightly.

"I always thought I was an optimist until the last week, but I don't feel that way now. Everything around me is dark."

He put a hand on her arm as he gave her a reassuring smile that seemed incongruous with the blood on his face. "You're doing great, Alisa. We'll put one foot in front of the other until we're out of here, and then we'll keep doing that until we figure out what's going on."

"Are you confident we will figure it out?"

"Yes," he said with a certainty that gave her hope. "Because I don't give up—ever. "

She believed him. He certainly hadn't given up on getting them down the hill as safely as humanly possible. His confidence was contagious. They'd made it this far. She had to keep believing. "Okay. I won't give up, either."

"Good. Now I'm going to slowly get out of the car. Once I see where we are, I'll come around to your side."

"I'd rather get out at the same time as you, just in case the car moves when you do," she said, putting her hand on the door and giving the handle a yank. Nothing happened. She looked over at him, feeling panic again. "I don't think my side will open. It feels like there's a weight against it."

"That's okay. That means the car isn't going anywhere."

He slowly eased his body out of the car until he was standing on the ground.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"We hit a couple of trees. But the good news is that we're at the bottom of the hill, in what appears to be a gully. The car isn't going to slide any further. There's nowhere for it to go."

She blew out a breath of relief.

"I'm going to come around to your side," he said.

She felt another rush of anxiety as he disappeared from view, but she told herself to get a grip. The worst was over. Now, it was just about getting out of the car.

A moment later, she heard his voice behind the tree branches that were sticking through her window. "I can't open the door," he said. "It's crushed against a tree."

He came back around to his side and gave her a questioning look. "You're going to have to crawl out this way. Can you get the seat belt off?"

It took her a moment to wrestle with the belt, but she eventually got it off. It took another few minutes to crawl out from under the airbags, over the console, and then through the open door.

Jason helped her out of the car, wrapping his arms around her as her feet slipped on the rocky ground. They were still on a slight incline, but as she looked around, she could see that he'd been telling the truth. They were at the bottom of the hill, and far above them was the road that wound its way up to the medical center. Hopefully, someone would notice the broken guardrail and stop to question if something had happened.

"How are you feeling now that you're on your feet?" Jason asked.

She looked into his face, suddenly realizing he was holding her very close, and she wasn't making any attempt to get out of his embrace because it felt really, really good.

"Anything hurting?" he questioned.

"My head, my wrist, my knee…" She was slowly noticing the pain points in her body. She looked down at her left wrist, which was the same hand she'd cut against the car last night. Her wrist didn't look broken, but there was another long cut on the back of her hand that went up her arm. She glanced down at her leg. Her jeans were ripped at the knee, and there was blood on the denim. "Nothing is broken, but I'm cut in a few places." Her gaze moved to Jason, and she saw similar cuts and bloody spots on his clothes. "You are, too."

"Cuts will heal," he said, giving her a smile.

She shook her head in wonder. "You don't let anything get you down, do you?"

"I'm happy we're alive. No cuts are getting me down."

"I'm happy, too. You…are something else, Jason."

He inclined his head. "As much as I'd like to take the credit, luck was on our side."

She needed to let go of him, and he needed to let go of her, but neither of them seemed inclined to move. It was probably just the joy of being alive after their shared terrifying experience. But she felt a connection to him that she hadn't ever felt with anyone.

Jason's gaze darkened as he looked at her. "I should let you go," he muttered. "You know what this feeling is, right? It's just amazing relief and gratitude that we're alive. "

"That's what I was thinking, too," she agreed. "But I have this crazy urge to kiss you right now. That would be really inappropriate?—"

Before she could finish, Jason closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss that silenced everything else. It was exactly what she needed—more than words, more than comfort. In that moment, it wasn’t just about surviving.It was about feeling alive. About connection. And maybe it was something more…