Prescription: Makeover. Jessica Andersen

remained mute, paralyzed with fear as he raised the weapon and pointed it at her. He tightened his finger on the trigger—

      “Run!” he shouted and fired.

      Ike jerked, and for a split second she thought he’d shot her. Then she realized the movement had come from the big guy behind her. His grip slackened and he pitched to the floor.

      She didn’t stick around to watch him hit. Instead she bolted through the door as all hell broke loose behind her.

      William yelled something. Flesh smacked against flesh, and a door slammed. Heavy footfalls chased her. Caught up to her. A strong hand gripped her upper arm, and William’s deep voice shouted, “Hurry!”

      She would’ve snapped that she was hurrying, but just then they rounded the corner leading to the main stairs and came face-to-face with two old dudes in suits, along with a pair of the black-clad bodyguards.

      Instead of slowing, Ike put her head down and barreled between the two old guys. Amidst a storm of shouts and curses, one of them stumbled and went down, deflecting a bodyguard as he lunged for William.

      Breath whistling between her teeth, Ike slid down the last few steps to the landing, where the stairs faced the front door. She skidded, hooked a left and bolted for the back of the building. She’d stuck her Jeep beside the golf course’s pro shop. If they made it that far, they’d—

      “Ike, no! This way!” William shouted.

      She faltered and turned back, only to see another uniformed bodyguard burst through the front door and launch himself at William. The men went down in a tangle, while two more thugs charged down the stairs.

      Knowing she couldn’t leave William behind, she grabbed for her weapon and came up empty. Her captor had disarmed her. Unable to think of a better way to give William a chance, she reversed direction, charged back up the hallway and yelled as she caromed off the two guys coming down the stairs.

      Somehow she stayed on her feet and kept going, straight down an unfamiliar hallway, with heavy footsteps thudding in her wake. Then gunfire barked and a bullet smashed into the wall beside her.

      Ike ducked through the next door she came to, praying it had a lock on the inside.

      It did, but not much of one. Chest heaving with exertion, pulse drumming in her head, she shot the flimsy bolt before she turned and surveyed her options. Her stomach sank when she saw where she’d ended up. The tiny room was little more than a closet with a bucket and mop in one corner, a drawerlike door set in the wall and a small, night-darkened window.

      She muttered a curse as she opened the drop down door to reveal a dark, narrow laundry chute that presumably led to the basement. But what if it doesn’t? a little voice asked. Or what if there’s no way out from there?

      Logically, there was a way out, but logic didn’t get her very far when it came to small, dark spaces. Her throat closed in on itself, and she swallowed hard as the dark square seemed to expand, reaching for her.

      Gunshots sounded in the hallway, along with male shouts and curses. Then footsteps thudded to a halt outside her hiding spot, and before she could brace herself, a shot plowed through the door below the knob and punched through the window. A second shot ripped the lock half off.

      She was out of time and options.

      Praying the door would hold for a few more seconds, she flipped the rinse bucket over beneath the window, grabbed the mop and slammed the handle against the broken window. The impact sang up her arms and vibrated in her hands, but she drew back and let fly again. The glass gave just as the guys in the hall rammed the door and she heard the sound of splintering wood.

      “Come on, come on!” she chanted under her breath as she used the mop handle to punch out the pointy shards of glass. Then there was no time left. The door shuddered, sagged and fell inward, revealing three black-clad men on the other side.

      Ike jumped up onto the bucket, grabbed the window sash and heaved herself through. She felt sharp points dig into her gloved hands, felt a pull in her ribs and a slice in her knee—

      And was free.

      She fell headfirst into a shrub, and the damp branches scratched at her skin, cushioning her and trapping her at the same time. She thrashed as male voices shouted curses through the broken window. Any moment now they’d lean through and start shooting.

      Moving too fast for caution, she rolled free of the shrubbery, hit pavement and accidentally cracked her head against the edge of the curb. Stunned, she lay gasping with sudden pain.

      Tires squealed in the near distance. An engine revved and a silver-blue car careened around the corner of the building, then flew at her, bearing down too fast. She struggled to rise as desperation flared. She was done. She was dead. She had failed Zed, just as she’d failed her brother Donny, the only person who’d ever truly loved her for herself rather than for who she ought to be.

      Then the car squealed to a halt beside her and the door flew open, skimming just above her head. William’s voice shouted, “Get in!” Bullets pinged off the tarmac. One hit the hood of the car, wringing a curse out of him. “Hurry, it’s a loaner!”

      Disoriented, Ike struggled to her knees, got an arm up onto the car seat, grabbed onto soft leather upholstery and tried to pull herself into the vehicle.

      William leaned across, snagged a fistful of her shirt and hauled her into the car in one smooth, powerful move as a bullet cracked the windshield. “Your legs in?”

      She nodded, head spinning.

      “Good. Hang on.” He lunged back into the driver’s seat and slammed his foot on the gas, sending the two-seater sports car leaping forward with a squeal of tires. He swerved, and the open door slammed into one of the bodyguards, who’d come through the window after her. The man went flying. The door shut. William tromped on the gas again, twisted the wheel and sent them hurtling around the next corner sideways.

      Behind them, a limo pursued with lethal grace, closing the gap fast.

      William swerved, and the momentum whipped Ike to the side, into his solid form. He nudged her away as he accelerated across the parking lot toward the road. “Put on your belt.”

      “Right. Sorry.” Ike fumbled with the strap, fingers trembling from a mix of adrenaline and fear.

      William glanced in the rearview mirror and cursed. “Hang on. This could get rough.”

      Like it’d been smooth before? Ike thought, her head starting to settle even as her pulse thundered in her ears. She smothered a half-hysterical giggle and jammed the seat belt lock in place. Then, refusing to look down at the ragged tears in the knees of her tight black pants, she braced her feet and nodded. “Let’s lose these bastards.”

      “Here goes nothing.”

      He sent the car speeding along a deserted secondary road, easing up on the gas. The limo closed the distance and bullets pinged. Then, as they passed a cross road, William hit the gas and yanked the hand brake, all in one fluid movement. Tires screamed as the car nearly leaped off the road, then turned ninety degrees to their original path and slid sideways.

      Ike gritted her teeth and hung on tight. She glanced out the window and saw the limo’s headlights aiming straight for her. Then William released the hand brake and accelerated. The BMW leaped forward, sailing down the cross street as the limo sped past.

      William punched it, heading toward the highway as he weaved through the posh residential streets of Greenwich.

      The speedometer edged past sixty, then seventy. Houses blurred on either side in darkness broken by streetlights at regular intervals, and Ike hung onto her seat. At eighty-five miles per hour, the vehicle vibrated and felt lighter, as though it might take flight at any moment.

      She heard a low mutter of sound and for a second thought the engine was getting ready to shake apart. Then she looked across at William and saw that the noise was coming from him, a low chant. Come on, baby, come on.

      He