Chasing Strength: A Harper Family Romance Read online

  She opened her mouth to respond, moving her tongue a couple of times, and a garbled response escaped her lips. But Chris couldn’t mistake the fear in her eyes and the slight shake of her head.

  The man thrust her behind him again. “She’s fine. Now move on before I have to move you myself.”

  His words slurred, the man nearly fell when he tried to shove past Chris.

  “I don’t think so.” Chris sidestepped the man, shoving himself between him and the woman. He heard a gasp and her hands pressed to his back. Not to push him away… but to lean on him for support. If he could, he’d spin and check on her, but he wasn’t about to turn his back on a drunk man who felt he’d been wronged.

  “That’s it, asshole.” The man raised his hands, his fists clenching. “Let her go and there won’t be any trouble.”

  Chris widened his feet and squared his shoulders. The hours he spent with the bag in his spare room were about to be put to the test, and he was confident the bastard in front of him would regret challenging him. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” The man’s arm swung out, his fist flying clear of Chris’s head. Chris barely even had to duck.

  Chris pulled his elbow back and let a punch fly. The crunch of the man’s nose was small comfort, but his girlish squeal satisfied Chris’s anger.

  One more well-placed punch and the man dropped to the ground. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

  One problem taken care of, another on his hands. But the woman in question wasn’t behind him. She had tiptoed halfway across the parking lot, hiding in the shadows of the building.

  He rushed to her side and pulled up short when she cringed. He held out his hands and backed away slowly. He hadn’t meant to spook her. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Are you all right?”

  The woman nodded, sort of, her eyes darting between him and the bastard sprawled on the ground, wailing and clutching his nose as the dark-skinned bouncer rounded the corner. Chris waved at him, and Carl acknowledged him with a nod of approval.

  Chris lowered his voice as he stepped closer to the skittish woman. She didn’t move. Progress. “Did you want to go with him?”

  She shook her head slowly, her hands trembling as she rooted in her bag, her phone tumbling from her fingers and landing face-down on the pavement with a clatter.

  Panic washed across her features as she dropped to the ground, searching for the device. He crouched beside her, his hand landing easily on her phone. He offered it to her, careful not to touch the woman who was as skittish as a wounded puppy.

  “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath as she brushed off her phone to expose the shattered screen. “Now I can’t even book an Uber.” Despite her slur, he got the gist. Her escape from this situation was no longer at her fingertips.

  Her phone might still work. Shoot, he could call a car for her himself, but those weren’t the words that came out of his mouth. “I can take you home.”

  Her head snapped up, and every bit of progress he’d made dissolved as she backed away. “No. I’ll figure something out. I don’t know you. Why should I trust you?” And then, barely above a whisper, she added, “I can’t even trust myself anymore.”

  He softened his voice again and raised his hands as he stepped back. “You can trust me. Go ask Dylan in the bar. He’s a good friend and he’ll vouch for me. My name is Chris. A ride home. Nothing else, I promise.”

  “Alexis, you can trust him.” The bouncer stepped from the shadows and the woman jumped. “Sorry, honey. Didn’t meant to scare you. Dylan sent Chris out because I was busy. You can trust him. Let him take you home.”

  Her gaze darted to the door and then the asshole who had escorted her out of FitzGeralds. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Thanks, Carl. I’ve got her, and you can deal with him.” He gestured to the wimp on the ground. Before she changed her mind, or the bastard got a hankering for round two, Chris steered the woman to his truck, depositing her in the passenger side and then rounding the front. After vaulting in and shutting the door, he turned to the woman hunched against the opposite door, as far away from him as she could get. Either that guy had seriously spooked her or something else had caused the torment in her eyes. “So, what should I call you?”

  “What? What do you mean?” The words rushed out of her mouth and her eyes blazed.

  “Your name. I was just asking your name.” Leave it to him to get tongue tied when she needed calm. But he was tired of referring to her as the woman in his head.

  “Oh.” She breathed out a sigh and her shoulders relaxed. “Alexis.”

  “Nice to meet you, Alexis.” Chris started the engine, keeping an eye on Alexis’s former date, or whatever he was. “Where to?”

  “Home.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. But I need an address.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She rattled off an address not far from him. How was it that he hadn’t met Alexis before? No way would he have forgotten this captivating woman. Especially in a town as small as Cedar Hill.

  He pulled out of the parking lot and pointed his truck toward Alexis’s house, streetlights swooping into the cab at regular intervals. His gaze darted to Alexis from time to time, her head leaning on the window that she had lowered halfway. The May evening temperature was still cool, but he didn’t mind the fresh air. Whatever made her comfortable.

  She didn’t say another word, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. As the silence stretched between them, he allowed his mind to wander to thoughts he’d rather not consider. Had the asshole at the bar been about to take advantage of her? Could Alexis have become another victim?

  What was it about guys that made them think women were theirs for the taking… especially when they were intoxicated? Had Robin had that same look in her eye when her attacker sized her up? When he’d slipped the roofie into her drink and spirited her away from her friends?

  It would do him no good to dwell on that. Right now, he just needed to get Alexis safely home. Then he could spend a couple hours pounding out his anger and grief on the bag hanging in his guest room.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in front of a small white and green craftsman-style cottage with a sparse but well-kept lawn. Alexis stayed put as he slid the gearshift into park, but he added a few words for good measure. “Wait right here.”

  He rounded the front of his truck and when he opened her door, she practically tumbled into his arms, her feet unsteady on the pavement. He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her up the walk, her soft body melting into his as she leaned heavily on his side.

  You’re here to help her. Nothing else. He had to chant that reminder several times. If only his body could get the message.

  He lofted her up the two stairs to her stoop, reaching for the handle. Locked. Good for her safety, bad for him right now. He nudged her. “Alexis?”

  She shook her head as though clearing her mind. “What? Oh, we’re home.”

  She fumbled for her bag but when she missed the opening twice, he snaked his fingers inside and came up with her keys. As he slipped the metal into the lock, a high-pitched bark echoed through the door. He sent up a silent plea for a friendly, or at least a small dog. All he needed to top off this ball-busting night was a huge, protective mutt thinking Chris was a threat.

  He turned the handle, nudging the door and stepping back for Alexis. She’d barely made it two steps before a small terrier of some sort circled her feet, his excited yips filling the air. The dog then dropped to the ground and rolled over, exposing his belly with a hopeful look in his eye. Alexis stumbled on her heels, nearly fell, and then dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around the dog who seemed to sigh as she did.

  The pooch’s tail smacked against the hardwood floor, the steady rhythm the only sound in the room. As he licked her face, Alexis fell from her crouch, her ass hitting the ground with a thud, forcing a moan from her lungs. “Bandit, take it easy.”

  As if he understood, the do
g plopped on his butt, his tongue lolling out of the left side of his mouth, his eyes wide.

  Alexis pressed her hands to the floor and shifted her feet beneath her but fell back again. She turned onto her side and tried again, lifting her butt a mere three inches before giving up and flopping back to the ground. Should he help her, or would she flinch if he touched her again? After watching her struggle for another minute, he couldn’t bear it any longer.

  “Alexis, I’m going to help you up.” When she nodded, he slipped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. One shoe fell to the ground as he righted her.

  “Thanks. I’ll just… I’m gonna change and I’ll walk him.” Alexis stumbled across the room, click-thud, click-thud, the other shoe an eventual casualty of her lopsided steps. Undeterred, she whipped her bag over her head, the strap dangling from her fingers before clattering onto the floor behind her as she turned the corner.

  Chris raked his hand through his hair. What the hell should he do now? He hadn’t thought this situation through any further than liberating Alexis from a dangerous situation. He would have never thought he’d land in her house, her dog staring expectantly up at him.

  He bent down and scratched the pup between his ears. “Sorry, buddy. She’ll be back in a minute.”

  Bandit sank to the ground, his head on his paws and his gaze locked on the hall until his owner returned. Chris could at least wait until she came back to walk the dog. That would be the right thing to do. Then he could slip out, consoled by the fact that she was safe.

  He whipped his phone out of his pocket and illuminated the screen. She sure had been gone a long time. Too long. As if he agreed, Bandit hopped up and rushed toward the kitchen and what Chris presumed was a back door.

  What was taking Alexis so long?

  Chris eased his way across the room, peeking down the hall to see two open doors and a light shining from underneath a third. His heart thumping a quick, heavy rhythm in his chest, he crept down the hall, poking his head tentatively around the first doorway—an Empty bathroom. His survey of the second room revealed a small office, a desk piled high with papers surrounding a computer monitor. His mind wandered a minute, imagining Alexis at the desk, her long fingers flying over the keyboard. Did she spend hours working in front of the wide window or was this just a place to check her email and pay her bills?

  He had no business thinking about her that way right now. Maybe ever. He didn’t expect to see her again after tonight.

  He stepped back into the hall. That left only one door.

  “Alexis?” His whispered words broke the near silence of the house, but he heard nothing in response.

  Well, hell. He’d started this, he better finish. He glanced again at the light sneaking out beneath the almost closed door. His imagination weaved a thousand scenarios through his mind, none of them good. Had she fallen? What if she passed out and suffocated?

  After another minute, he tapped on the door, nudging it open as he did. “Alexis?”

  Alexis was sprawled face-down on a large bed that dominated the feminine space, her feet hanging over the edge of the mattress, her arms wide. Well, that explained the radio silence. He stepped toward the bed, just to make sure she was still breathing. Sure, buddy, you tell yourself that all you want.

  He was rewarded with a groan when he leaned over.

  About that time, Bandit burst into the room, all yips and wiggles. Chris crouched, his hands extended. “Shh, buddy. Mommy’s sleeping. How about I take you out?”

  That was all the prompting the little pup needed before he raced out of the room. After another quick glance at Alexis, Chris followed Bandit to a cozy kitchen where the pooch jumped and yipped at the wall beside the door. Chris located a leash, latched it onto Bandit’s collar, and the pooch dragged him out the door.

  A tall fence surrounded the back yard and Chris was tempted to just turn Bandit loose in the yard, but the mutt was having none of that. Bandit guided him to the gate, jumping until Chris released the latch. As soon as he did, the little stinker darted out of the yard as if he had spotted the promised land.

  Chris allowed Bandit to take the lead. The pooch pranced down the shadowy sidewalk, the darkness pierced at regular intervals by the brightness of the decorative street lights. He and Bandit were alone on the sidewalk, the neighbors long since tucked in for the night.

  From time to time, Bandit stopped to sniff a bush or water a patch of grass.

  Chris raked his fingers through his hair. How in the hell had he ended up here, walking the dog of a stranger who could wake up, find her dog missing, and call the Sheriff? He should have left well enough alone, but he could never have forgiven himself if Alexis ended up like Robin when he could have prevented it.

  He missed Robin the most when he was alone with his thoughts, like he was now, longing for her bright eyes and huge smile that lit up a room. He could practically hear her voice in his head. “Now, big brother. You know there’s something about that woman. And not just because she’s in trouble.”

  Robin could always read him like a book. And before she’d been killed, he probably would have approached Alexis the moment she’d stepped up to the bar. Would have quite possibly been the asshole trying to get lucky with her tonight.

  Not anymore.

  Bandit barked and steered Chris back toward Alexis’s house. A few minutes later, he stepped through her back door, locked it behind him, and unhooked the leash. The little pooch scampered across the floor, spun three times on a dark-colored cushion, and curled himself into a ball.

  Now what? Of all the unusual situations he’d gotten himself in before, this one took the cake. Guess it was time to go. As he headed to the door, he spotted Alexis’s shoe where it had fallen. Before he could stop himself, he’d collected both of her shoes, her bag, and a random belt he didn’t even remember seeing her wearing. He carried his bounty into the kitchen and piled it in the center of her kitchen table, where she would easily find it in the morning.

  After a quick trip to her office, he returned to the kitchen with a pen and slip of paper. He couldn’t leave without letting her know that he’d taken care of Bandit.

  He scrawled a few words on the paper, finishing it off with his cell phone number, and tucked the note beneath the pile.

  He snuck one last peek into Alexis’s bedroom, her back rising and falling as she breathed. He’d done all he could for tonight. After staring at her for another moment, he pulled the door almost shut and crept to the front of the house.

  The door handle had a lock he could flip. That was good. He could leave knowing Alexis would be safely locked inside her house. He flipped the latch, testing the handle to ensure he couldn’t turn it… and then he stopped. Once he shut the door, he’d be locked out. He couldn’t get back in.

  He shook his head. He’d done his part. He’d gotten Alexis home safely. Maybe she’d text him to let him know she was safe… or maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, that would be the end of it.

  After crossing the threshold, he pulled the door behind him. The sharp snick of the lock engaging pierced the silent night. He tested the handle one last time. It wouldn’t turn. With Alexis secure inside her home, he sent up a silent prayer to protect her tonight and then ambled down the stairs to his truck.

  Chapter 3

  The sheets wrapped around Chris’s legs like a pretzel as he tossed and turned. In the past two hours, he’d stared at the ceiling, shoved his face into his pillow, and had even counted sheep, all in a vain attempt to sleep. But nothing worked. His mind was filled with thoughts of Alexis—from the attitude she’d thrown his way when he’d first seen her double-fisting cocktails at the bar, to the way her body had moved on the dance floor. And then later, when her eyes thanked him for liberating her from the asshole who was poised to take advantage of her—even when her words didn’t.

  His mind and his heart battled about what he’d done. Should he have left her alone or should he have stayed to ensure she didn’t hurt hersel
f… or worse? It did no good to second guess his decision. He’d done everything he could. She’d been breathing normally, deep in sleep, when he checked on her. He’d walked the dog and locked up. That would have to be enough.

  She would be okay when she woke up… probably with a massive hangover as a souvenir.

  He flipped over and snatched the photo off his nightstand, the one of him and Robin, his arm slung over his little sister’s shoulder while she flashed her beautiful smile at the camera. The easy expression on his face in that image hadn’t returned since the night he’d received the phone call that had changed his life.

  “I promise, Robin. I’ll make sure the guy who did this to you pays for his crime.”

  After returning the photo to his nightstand, he was finally able to close his eyes and calm his mind long enough to fall asleep.

  But his sleep was restless, and he felt even more tired when he dragged himself out of the bed and into the shower less than an hour before he was due at the office.

  Zach Wilson tapped on the doorframe of Chris’s office a few hours later, the sound startling him from the monitor he’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. “What’s up man? You’ve been heads down since you got here.”

  Chris threw Zach a look that his friend had come to know well. His buddy raised his hands and stepped back. “Come on, man. It’s been almost a year. Do you really think you’re going find anything at this point?”

  Most nights, Chris poured over web sites and police reports, looking for any information he could find about Robin’s killer. He’d only gone out with Eric and Zach last night in hopes that he could question the employees of FitzGeralds again to determine if they’d remembered anything new, or if they could identify other customers who’d been there. Any clue as to what happened in the hours prior to Robin’s death. He’d asked before, several times, but hoped his persistence would spark a memory.

  Robin’s murder had been the biggest news to hit Cedar Hill. And as a reporter for the Cedar Hill Gazette, he’d typically have been the first one on the scene. But Chris had been on the other side of Philly when the call came in. And then Zach had reached out and told him to double-time it to FitzGeralds.