Last Showing

CHAPTER One

Tears had a way of destroying a woman’s makeup, making Sophia glad she’d listened to her instincts and brought her cosmetic case with her. Of course, women were expected to cry when their marriages ended. Wait. No. This wasn’t a divorce. Not yet. This was a separation. Time apart to figure things out.

A separation that seemed to be around every corner of their marriage for the past two years. How many months had it been since Levi had touched her? It had been even longer since they’d had a conversation that didn’t include raised voices. All because of a job. His job. One that he wouldn’t give up regardless how it affected their marriage.

She pushed open the door to the empty house and stepped inside. The owners had put a lot of work into the modernizing every aspect of the 1100 square foot ranch, but, eight months on the market, and it still sat unsold. A quick glance at her watch brought a frown to her face. The potential buyer was already five minutes late.

Another ten minutes and she’d leave. Fifteen minutes was all the grace period she was giving on a Friday evening. She paced back and forth in front of bay window in the kitchen while impatience tap-danced up and down her spine. If she hadn’t been specifically requested to show this house, she’d have handed it off to one of the junior agents and been home by now soaking in a bubble bath and drinking a glass of Merlot.

A tap on the storm door of the brick house had her breathing a sigh of relief. Now she had to fake a smile, pretend she really cared whether or not these folks bought the two-bedroom home in a nice, older neighborhood, and convince them this was their dream home.

Mr. Greenwald? Her training didn’t fail her, and she pasted a smile on her face and greeted the potential buyer with as much cheerfulness as she would a 9:00 a.m. client. I'm Sophia Reynolds. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Tall and lanky with a large forehead and a thin crop of brown hair on the top of his head, Luther Greenwald extended his hand and gave her a gap-toothed grin. Same here. His eyes were practically non-existent behind the thick lenses of his glasses. And though he seemed friendly enough, there was something about him that gave her the creeps.

Still, she began the motions of her job. Let me show you around. Releasing the man's sweaty palm, she began to extol the virtues of the small house in a quiet suburb. Out back, there is a barbecue pit and a wonderful covered patio, but first, let's take a look at the newly refurbished kitchen.

I’d actually like to see the bedroom first. Mr. Greenwald’s voice squeaked.

An odd request, but Sophia had heard weirder ones. Certainly. The master bedroom is to our right, and just like the kitchen, the adjoining bathroom was just refinished.

Keeping the tone of her voice both upbeat and polite, Sophia led the way to the large bedroom at the back of the house. Mr. Greenwald remained quiet which told her he wasn't a questioner. Always a positive on a Friday night. He wanted to look and leave.

Now, just in here—

I'm going to need you to take off your clothes now. The click on the door's lock accompanied the hushed words, and for a moment, Sophia wasn't sure she'd heard them correctly.

I'm sorry? She turned, and her stomach did an immediate sick flip. A man she didn't recognize now stood beside Greenwald, a silver knife in his hand. The last rays of the sun glinted off the blade, showcasing its sharpness.

All the blood rushed to her ears. In the two years she'd been showing homes, she'd had a lot of false alarms and unnecessary nervousness. The one night she'd let down her guard, and her fears were realized. Why hadn’t she listened to her internal alarm that told her Luther Greenwald had psycho written all over him?

Heart racing, she fixed her gaze on Greenwald who tilted his head toward the floor. I don’t know who this man is, Mr. Greenwald, but if you brought him here, I’m going to ask you to both leave.

Luther's my brother, and he's gonna do whatever I tell him to do. The gravelly voice held no compassion. So ain’t no use asking.

She couldn’t look at him, though she’d already committed his face to memory. The police would need a description. That’s it, Sophia. Tell yourself you’re going to get out of this.

You aren't going to hurt her, are you, Stefan? Greenwald had already started a backward shuffle to the door, the movement making his thin legs look like a marionette's.

How many times are we gonna have this conversation? You know I don't hurt the ladies. I just like to have a date with them is all. Stefan sucked his teeth, the sound like a gunshot.

Heart pounding in her ears or maybe it was the blood rushing to her head, Sophia took a step back farther into the room. She couldn’t get past the two men so the bedroom door wasn’t an option for escape. Everything sounded like her head was wrapped in cotton.

How was this happening? Things like this didn’t happen here. Or had she been hiding her head in the sand since the break-up of her marriage? Was there a rapist on the loose she didn’t know about?

Luther Greenwald waggled a finger at his brother. Well, you remember your promise. I don’t like it when you lie to me.

Luther, he is going to hurt me. Sophia tried to appeal to the gangly man's conscience. I know he's telling you he won't, but he's lying. How many other times has he done this? Have you ever seen those women after you left the room?

Frantic but trying to remain calm, she looked for another escape route. With the master bathroom offering no windows, she only had one option—the double windows overlooking the modest back yard with its impeccable landscaping.

Kicking the toe of his worn Oxford against the new carpet, Luther shrugged. Stefan won't hurt you. He just wants to talk to you.

Then why does he need a knife? Think, Sofia. What is the best way out of here? Could she make it through the window fast enough? She’d been a gymnast for most of her teenage and college years, but she wasn’t as flexible now nor as quick. Would Stefan catch her before she hit the grass? Would she survive the break of the pane as she went through it?

The storm windows were tempered glass. She’d need a stronger force to get through it, and she’d be risking slashing an artery. But she’d rather chance bleeding out than fighting her attacker.

While the two men talked, her mind raced. She thought she might be able to reach the brother, but he was clearly entrenched in his Stefan’s corner. Even now, she could see his big feet ambling toward the door. That gave her another opportunity to slide toward the window. It was just the slightest of moves, but it got her that much closer to the glass.

Forehead crinkling, Luther surveyed the blade in his brother's hand. You still haven’t told me why you need that if all you’re going to do is talk. I’ve never seen anyone take a knife on a date, Stefan.

Will you just get the hell out of here and watch the door? Stefan's overly friendly demeanor evaporated. He turned to push his brother out, putting his back to Sophia so he could lock the door.

It gave her the opportunity she needed to push off with her right foot and launch herself through the window like a missile. Her extended fists broke through the glass just as Stefan's hands closed around her ankles.

Hoping she could be heard through the thick brick walls of the house next door, Sophia began to scream and kick.

See what you’ve done! Stefan shouted.

Fists banged against the wooden door. Let me in! What’s happening, Stefan? Do you need me to call the police?

Call the police, Luther! I’m hurt. Call them!

Footsteps thumped against the hardwood floors. No! Don’t you call the police, Luther. Do you hear me? Don’t call the damned police! Stefan tried to pin her down, but Sophia squirmed and scratched, reaching for any open expanse of skin she could to inflict damage.

You little bitch! His long fingers closed around her throat, squeezing mercilessly.

Though her mind frayed with panic, she remembered what Levi had taught her. Her arms crept up between their bodies, and she lodged her thumbnails into Stefan’s eyes, pressing until he screamed and rolled to his side.

She scrambled to her feet. He grabbed for the knife, but she stomped his fingers then kicked his face. Panic gave way to adrenaline, and she was halfway out the window again when the knife caught her on the left side, sinking deep. The pain moved to her back, and as the blade sank in, breathing grew more difficult.

Stefan tried to drag her back into the empty bedroom again, but Sophia knew she wouldn’t survive another round. So she fought harder, using every self-defense skill she’d learned. And while she battled him, she screamed. Until she heard the sirens in the background, and heard the muffled curse from the man behind her.

Releasing her ankles, he stumbled backwards and ran to the door. It took him several seconds to turn the lock, but once she realized he was leaving, Sophia fell out onto the grass and scrambled to her feet. Sobbing until her voice was raw, she ran without looking back.

She’s losing a lot of blood. Hang two more units.

Let’s get neuro down here.

Where in the hell is that…?

The words clattered together in Sophia's mind, but she didn't want to open her eyes.

More words. Cold instruments pressing against her skin. Then a hand touched her thigh, and a torturous shriek ripped from her lungs. Get away from me! She tried to kick, but her legs wouldn't cooperate.

The voices blended together now. Shouting over the hum of machines. Someone brushed a hand across her forehead, murmuring things she couldn't decipher.

How had they found her? Someone had heard her screaming. No. That wasn't right. She'd been pulled back into the room, but she fought so desperately. She’d never seen so much blood.

She’d kicked him. His cry rang in her ears. Somehow, she’d gotten out of the window and scrambled over the fence and onto the road. The asphalt had sheared the skin from her hands. Where had she been going?

Her brain wouldn't work properly. A car. She'd fell onto the two lane highway, and a car had almost hit her. Hadn't it? Was she dreaming? There'd been a man with a kind voice. He'd tried to touch her, but she wouldn't let him.

More voices encouraged her to calm down. Had she still been screaming? Her hair pooled into a damp lump beneath her neck, but her hands wouldn't work for her to push it aside. Had an ambulance brought her here? She didn't remember the ride.

A needle pierced her skin, sinking deep into the vein in her right arm. Something cold touched her face. A soft voice promised safety. Comfort. Then her world went blissfully black.

Levi Reynolds barreled through the doors of the trauma center, flashed his badge, and got directions to the bay where Sophia had been taken. His stomach a thick knot of fear, he stormed into the room, but the bed lay empty, sterile sheets untouched.

Dammit. He spun and almost collided with his partner. She’s not here.

Yeah, I know. Just heard one of the nurses say she’s on her way to surgery. Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder. It looks like… He didn’t get a chance to finish.

Levi checked the overhead signs before slamming open the door to the stairs which he took three at a time. Jack huffed behind him.

A nurse in green scrubs jumped back to avoid a collision when Levi slung open the door to the seventh floor. Sir, please slow down. The waiting room is right around the corner to your left.

I’m not looking for the waiting room. I’m looking for Sophia Reynolds. She was just brought up for surgery.

The nurse’s brow furrowed. Doesn’t sound familiar, but check with the nurses’ station. They can help you. It’s straight ahead on your right.

Jack mumbled a thank you when Levi didn’t. Both men arrived at the counter at the same time.

I’m looking for Sophia Reynolds.

A nurse with bouffant hair, a stern look, and half-glasses peered at Levi with a skeptical eye. Are you family?

He gripped the edge of the counter. I’m her husband. She was just brought up here for surgery. I need to see her.

The woman’s face softened though it didn’t make her appear any more approachable. Mrs. Reynolds is being prepped, but I can check with the doctor to see if there’s enough time.

Enough time. That could mean anything. Still, pain squeezed Levi’s chest. It was quickly checked by fury. What in the hell had Sophia been thinking showing a house at 7:30 in the evening? She’d never done that before…at least not before he’d left. How many times had he asked her to end her day before five for safety, especially during the winter when darkness came early?

His knuckles ached with the pressure of his clenched fists. The nurse reappeared and beckoned him forward. You can have about sixty seconds while the surgeons are scrubbing. She placed a hand on Levi’s arm. Let me warn you. She’s in bad shape.

The words sucker-punched him in the stomach, and he walked forward on legs that weren’t fully cooperating.

Sophia lay atop a gurney inside a windowless room. Wires seemed to be connected to every part of her. Levi forced himself to move closer even though she looked too fragile to touch.

All the color had leeched from her skin, making the bruises on her neck stand out. In the shape of fingers. His blood burned, and a sick rage poured through his system. Whoever had attacked her had tried to choke her. To kill her.

He forced his gaze back to her face and his mind back to the present. Her lips had a slight, blue tint, and she was so still she could be…no. She was alive, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

Sophie? The whispery croak caused her eyelids to flutter. The hazel eyes tried to focus on his face, and he leaned in to brush his hand down her cheek. You’re going to be okay, baby. The doctors are going to take care of you.

Greenwald, Sophia whispered. His name was Greenwald. She clutched his hand with surprising strength. Stefan. That’s his name. Get him for me. Each word seemed like an effort, and when she finished talking, she closed her eyes and released a soft sigh.

A lump the size of a baseball took up residence inside of his throat. You know I will. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of this guy. Raw anger seared its way through his intestines. It took up an acidic residence, gnawing its way through his sense of morality. Eradicating duty.

We’re ready for her.

Voices became a blur as Levi stepped back and watched the gurney roll away. The beep of machines merged with the clack of the wheels, and for a moment, his blood iced. Would this be the last time he saw her?

No! Don’t think like that! She’s going to live. She has to. I love you, Sophie, he whispered to the empty room.

Take it easy! Stefan's shout caused Luther to drop the gauze and stumble backwards. And stop acting like a damned baby. I'm the one with the gash as long as my leg.

Luther scrunched up his nose and shook his head. It's not that long, Stefan. You're exaggerating again.

His brother’s literal interpretations had always frustrated him. Now, they were close to driving him over the edge of sanity. The little realtor bitch had kicked him so hard he’d fallen onto a wide sheet of broken glass that had split his skin like a ripe cantaloupe. Now she was probably at a hospital getting excellent care while he was stuck suffering through his half-wit brother's ministrations.

Every time he thought about the woman, his vision went grey. He always finished a kill. Playing over every second of the scene in his head only infuriated him even more. There was no way in hell he could have known Sophia Reynolds had a kick like a mule and more strength in her hands than his own brother had.

After he'd dragged her back into the room, she'd put up one hell of a fight, biting and scratching. His eyes still burned from the imprint of her thumbs, but he wasn’t going to let her go. Not even when she was halfway through the window. He’d had her until she kicked him. The pain of the glass slicing his skin had taken his breath away and given her another chance at an escape attempt. She wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for those sirens.

A cold cotton ball touched the open wound, and