His to Possess. Delores Fossen

from any other man, it would have been chaste, but Lucian probably wasn’t capable of a chaste anything.

      “I need to go,” she insisted.

      “You can’t. I know you don’t want to trust me, but you have to. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

      There were so many things wrong with that on so many levels. “Safe from what?”

      But the question had no sooner left her mouth when she heard the sound of tires screaming on the asphalt. She whirled around and saw the black car coming across the parking lot.

      Directly toward them.

      Olivia couldn’t see the driver because of the heavily tinted windows, but she had no trouble determining the driver’s intent.

      The car was about to plow right into them.

      Lucian reacted a lot faster than she did, thank God. He already had his arm hooked around her, and he yanked her back, pulling her against the glass door.

      Just as the car came onto the sidewalk where they’d been standing.

      The front end scraped against the building, the bricks and the trunk of one of the weeping willows tearing into the fender. That slowed the driver, but Olivia heard the scream bubble up in her throat when she realized the driver had thrown the car into reverse and was about to back over them.

      Lucian shoved her behind him, and Olivia fell onto the concrete sidewalk. In the same motion, Lucian pulled his gun.

      He took aim.

      Fired.

      The shot blasted through the air.

      Everything seemed to freeze. Her breath. Her heart. Her. All but Lucian. He moved, readying himself to fire again.

      But he didn’t get the chance.

      The driver hit the accelerator, the tires kicking up the stench and smoke of burning rubber as it sped away.

      However, even over those sounds and the warning throb of her own heartbeat, Olivia heard something else.

      Someone’s voice.

      A voice straining to be heard from beneath the decay. Barely audible—a warning, murmured and soft—but just as bone-chilling as the scream that bubbled up in her own throat.

       Help us. Or die.

       Chapter Four

      “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Olivia said, not for the first time.

      Lucian couldn’t argue with her about that. It probably did feel like a bad idea to her. Especially with the memories from the attack still so fresh. But he wasn’t giving Olivia any options about this. She was going home with him so he could protect her.

      At least now she knew for certain that she needed protection.

      Though nearly being killed had been a bad way to have it confirmed.

      “The cops might find the car and the driver,” he reminded her. “They might be able to see something on the security footage so they can make an arrest.”

      And it could happen. However, judging from the hmmp sound she made, Olivia didn’t believe it for a second.

      Lucian didn’t, either.

      He was betting that if it was Estelle or Harvey behind that wheel, then they’d orchestrated alibis and a fake license plate to cover their asses. Or they could have just hired someone to kill Olivia and him.

      But why?

      Did the killer think Olivia and he were that close to learning the identity of who’d murdered Marissa and Damien? Because they weren’t close at all. Worse, they couldn’t even go to the cops with this.

      Not with the spiritual possession part, anyway.

      That would get them a quick trip to the psychiatric hospital for evaluation, and that’s why Lucian had been very careful what they’d told the police while giving their statements. Lucian had said he was looking into the murders after he’d bought the building and had become interested in them.