Chapter 83
Audrey’s POV:
My body tensed instinctively as I stood perfectly still, listening.
:
Years of training had taught me to trust my instincts, and right now, every cell in my body was screaming danger.
My mind raced through possibilities.
As I slowly turned, I caught sight of two men in dark clothing advancing toward me. Their posture, the way they moved–they weren’t just random passersby.
When they realized I’d spotted them, they abandoned all pretense of stealth.
“Hey, beautiful, where are you going in such a hurry?” the taller one called out, his voice echoing in the nearly empty garage.
I centered my weight and took a deep breath. “Who sent you?”
Instead of answering, they rushed me simultaneously. I sidestepped the first man’s lunge, using his momentum to shove him into the
wall.
The second man was quicker, swinging a fist toward my face that I barely ducked.
Focus. Breathe. Move.
My body remembered the training that my mind had tried to forget.
As the shorter man came at me again, I blocked his strike and delivered a precise blow to his solar plexus. He doubled over, gasping.
“I ask again,” I said coldly. “Who sent you?”
The man on the ground smirked despite his pain. “Lucky shot, sweetheart. Don’t get cocky.”
His partner had recovered enough to wipe the blood from his face.
“Look at that–little lady knows some amateur moves,” he sneered, trying to salvage his dignity.
The taller one tried to circle behind me, but I was ready.
I executed a perfect sweep kick that took his legs out from under him. He crashed to the ground with a pained groan.
“Not so amateur now, am I?” I said, standing between them as they both struggled on the concrete. “Last chance. Who’s paying you?”
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Chapter 83
Through gritted teeth, the shorter one spat, “Think about who you’ve pissed off, lady. We’re just doing a job.”
Next second, the sound of sirens cut through the garage, growing louder by the second.
Someone must have called the police.
Blue and red lights flashed at the garage entrance as two police cars pulled in, officers already exiting with weapons drawn.
“NYPD! Everyone freeze!” an officer shouted, his gun trained on me.
I slowly raised my hands, keeping them visible.
“They attacked me,” I said clearly. “I defended myself.”
The officers approached cautiously. One moved to check on the men on the ground while another approached me.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to turn around slowly and place your hands on the vehicle behind you,” the officer said.
I complied without argument. Now wasn’t the time to resist.
“These men attacked you?” the officer asked, his tone skeptical as he glanced at the two large men, two unconscious and one still
groaning in pain.
Before I could answer, a third man hurried over from a parked van, raising his hands to show he wasn’t a threat.
“Officer, there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said smoothly. “My brothers were just trying to talk to the lady. Ask her out, you know?
They didn’t mean any harm.”
I nearly laughed at the absurdity.
“Three men cornering a woman alone in a dark parking garage doesn’t sound like asking someone out,” I said, keeping my voice level. “It
sounds like an ambush.”
The officer looked between us, clearly unsure what to believe.
I could see him taking in my small frame versus the size of the men on the ground.
“Let’s go back to the police station first.”
At the Upper East Side precinct, I sat in an interview room waiting for the detective assigned to my case.
When the door finally opened, a woman in her mid–forties with sharp eyes and practical short hair entered.
She introduced herself as Detective Rivera.
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“Ms. Lane, she said, taking a seat across from me. “That’s quite a situation you found yourself in tonight.”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory–more curious than anything else.
She reviewed the file in front of her, then looked up with a slight smile.
“You’ve got some impressive skills. ”
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “Thanks.”
She consulted the file in front of her. “The men claim they were simply asking for directions when you attacked them unprovoked.”
“In an empty parking garage? At night? Three men approaching a woman alone?” I kept my voice calm, reasonable. “Detective, please.”
She nodded slightly. “Still, the level of force used… one has a broken nose and another likely has a concussion.”
“I was afraid for my life,” I said. “I didn’t know if they were armed or what their intentions were.”
“The problem we have, Ms. Lane, is that we don’t have clear evidence of their intent to harm you. No weapons were found, and the
security cameras in that section of the garage were conveniently malfunctioning.”
Of course they were. Whoever sent these men had planned ahead.
“For now, we’re holding you on charges of assault. You’re entitled to make a phone call. Is there someone who can post bail for you?” Detective Rivera said, her expression sympathetic despite the formal words.
“I understand,” I finally said, my voice tight. “I’ll make that call.”
I briefly considered my options again.
The Bailey family would either refuse to help or use this as leverage against me later.
Clara was also confined at home. Finley was temporarily unreachable.
There was really only one person I could call.
Detective Rivera led me to a small room with a phone and gave me privacy.
I stared at the keypad for a long moment before finally dialing Caspar’s number.
The phone rang only twice before he answered.
“Thornton.” His voice was alert despite the late hour.
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Chapter 83
I opened my mouth but found myself suddenly speechless. What exactly was I supposed to say?
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Hi, it’s your son’s art teacher and your new employee. I just beat up some men in a parking garage and now I’m In Jall. Mind coming to bail me
out?
The silence stretched uncomfortably until Caspar spoke again.
“Who are you?”
“Audrey,” I replied carefully.
“Audrey?” His tone was urgent now. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
The genuine concern in his voice caught me off guard.
I took a deep breath, composing myself as I finally responded.
“I’m… I’m at the Upper East Side police precinct.” I closed my eyes and explained the situation as simply as I could. “Can you come over
here for a moment?”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
