THREE

Serena

A wave of fear kept me on edge as I pulled out of the shadowed area, but even the mysterious man had disappeared.

My instincts were something that had kept me out of harm's way during several explosive cases, but with this one in particular, I was well aware of the horrific danger. The notion kept me peering into the rearview mirror every few seconds. There were no speeding cars, bumper huggers or massive dark SUV's with blacked out windows following me.

Still, I took another route home, forgetting about grabbing anything at the grocery store. I had enough wine and cheese for the night. That was all the sustenance I needed.

For now.

The thirty minute drive to my condo, which I was paying way too much for the sweeping views and topnotch protection, was the longest of my life. Twilight had fallen, leaving everything with an ominous appearance. At least there was a full moon cresting over the horizon.

By the time I rolled into the very secure underground garage, the entire high-rise building safeguarded by security cameras and two guards, I was close to hyperventilating. After pulling into my reserved spot, I was finally able to breathe without whimpering.

Some tough girl I turned out to be.

Still cautious, I glanced out every window before exiting my BMW, the only real luxury I'd allowed since my promotion. Other than hearing a door being slammed, the echo popping through the dense space, there were no other sounds.

There were also no creeping thugs, waiting to wrap duct tape around my mouth. Just simply a sea of expensive cars and concrete.

Fifty paces to the elevator and I could pretend the outside world didn't exist.

The ping of the elevator was made me jump and I laughed when the doors opened, revealing a cold steel and very empty box. I took a deep breath, still slapping my hand on the close button as soon as I stepped in. I was safe for Christ's sake. There was no boogeyman attempting to follow me, no monster ready to end my life.

By the time I walked out onto my floor, my keys in hand, all I could think about was opening a fresh bottle of wine. I deserved a glass or three after the day I'd had.

I locked the door behind me, lifting my middle finger before kicking off my shoes. I could wash away the wretchedness of the day and cuddle up in a blanket on the couch, finding some fabulous horror movie. A really scary one.

Chuckling, I dropped my things and immediately headed for the kitchen, flicking on the television before grabbing a bottle of wine. Another newscast. Another reminder. I glared at the screen, the ugly images of the day's court events splashing across like the circus was in town. The Channel 9 crew were recapping everything, including the man being transferred from the jail that morning. I almost dropped the wine glass as Santana looked directly into the camera.

He was staring at me, undressing me. Longing for...me.

"Jesus." I couldn't take anymore, turning off the remote before managing to open the wine. I ripped the cork into two pieces, finally shoving the second half into the bottle and pouring the glass to the rim. Several gulps did little to calm my nerves, so I took a few more, finally taking a deep breath then refilling.

The stench of the fucker was all over me, as if his fingers had managed to caress every inch of my naked body. I couldn't stand the thought, disgusted with the events of the day. Hell, the entire trial. The glass was firmly planted in my hand as I walked into the bedroom, flicking on a single light. The man's power and influence would terrify me for weeks to come. Damn it. I certainly wouldn't admit it outside of my own apartment, but I prayed to some God that Santana would be sent away for a very long time.

Another gulp. Then a second. I managed to ease the glass onto my dresser then practically ripped off my suit jacket, throwing it across the room. The pin in my hair was second and as I tossed my hair back and forth, I was able to take several choppy breaths. My fingers were fumbling so badly that I finally yanked off the last button of my ridiculously expensive silk blouse that I'd spent way too much time selecting. Not too sexy. Not too conservative. All business.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

The second I turned, heading for the bathroom, I heard a noise. I made my living being extremely observant and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that someone was in my condo. I twisted my head, holding in my breath as I listened. There was no other way out of the bedroom and I'd left my phone in my purse, dumped by the front door. If I was right, I was in serious trouble. Very cautiously I tiptoed toward the nightstand, grabbing the gun I'd kept hidden away for this purpose alone. Holding the weapon in both hands, I inched toward the door, darting my head into the shadows. The kitchen light was still on and there were no obvious signs that I was right.

I took another step into the living room, swinging my arms in both directions.

Click!

The bright light prevented me from seeing anything. I yelped, stumbling against the doorjamb. The pain shifting into my shoulder was no match for the terror skipping through every blood cell. "What? Who are you?" The gun was still in my hand, but other than a few mute shadows, my vision was clouded. "I have a gun. I suggest you get the hell out of here."

The dark chuckle sent shivers down my spine.

Sensual.

Knowing.

"Hello, Serena. I've been looking forward to meeting you in a more formal setting."

His deep baritone was gravelly, the kind of sensuous huskiness that every woman wanted to hear whispered into their ear. But this wasn't about seduction.

This was about murder.

"I will shoot you."

"Not without bullets," he said, laughing. "Go ahead and try."

Pointing the gun in the direction of his voice, I did just that. The hard clicking sound brought tears to my eyes. My arms slowly dropped, defeated. "What do you want?"

"You really didn't think I'd allow you to have access to a weapon?"

"Fuck you!" I jerked to the right, only to be stopped short by a massive hand wrapping all the way around my forearm. The attacker exerted little energy as he held me in place, his hot breath trickling across my cheek. I could swear I recognized the husky voice, craggy as if the man had smoked one too many cigarettes but sexy enough to create a jolt of electricity. I raked my brain, trying to remember everyone I'd encountered in the last few weeks. No one came to mind.

Seconds later, the gun was gently removed from my hand and the blinding light turned off.