Zoey 101: An Unexpected Encounter

Chapter 14

From the cover of the woods, Satan Kuyper focused his binoculars on Zoey Brook's house, anticipation rising up his spine until he shivered. The house was dark, but he knew Zoey and the cop were inside. He’d seen Matthews show up earlier, both startled and pleased to see that familiar face.

Two birds with one stone, the voice in his head said gleefully.

Oh, yes. What a coup this was. Not only would he punish the daughter of Delia’s murderer, but he could get rid of the bastard who’d put him behind bars, too. Earlier, Kuyper had watched as the detective walked the perimeter, gun in hand, with that slobbering golden Lab trailing at his feet. Matthews had seemed satisfied that the area was secure. He’d walked the outskirts of the woods, too, but hadn’t ventured any deeper, coming nowhere close to where Kuyper had been hiding.

As midnight rolled around, Kuyper had changed position, now mere yards from Zoey’s backyard. Soon. Soon he would make his move.

As if someone up above agreed it was time to take action, the back door of the house swung open. The detective’s silhouette filled the doorway, and that idiotic dog bounded onto the deck. Perfect.

The cop’s chest was bare, and for a moment Kuyper wondered if Matthews was doing a lot more than guarding Zoey Brooks. Mixing business with pleasure, perhaps? Shame this would be the last night he indulged in either, that son of a bitch.

Matthew’s dog was prowling the back lawn, sniffing at the grass. The mutt finally found a patch of grass he seemed to like, then lifted his hind leg and did his business. The cop called something from the porch, but before the dog could return to its owner, Kuyper let out a whistle, so soft only the dog could hear it.

Sure enough, the Lab tilted his head and turned around, peering at the dark forest with intrigue. The cop said something else, but the dog was already scurrying across the unfenced backyard, picking up speed when Kuyper whistled again.

Kuyper heard the bushes rustle, smiling at the sound of twigs snapping under the dog’s paws. A moment later, a golden-brown head popped out of a bush. The dog let out a loud bark at the sight of Kuyper.

Kuyper’s smile widened. "Let the games begin," he said as he slowly drew his knife from the sheath on his belt.

…

Standing on the patio, Chase still couldn’t decide if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. A part of him couldn’t believe that he’d slept with her. That after two years, he’d finally given in to the desire he felt for Zoey.

Since she’d fallen asleep in his arms, her blonde hair fanned across his chest, he’d been asking himself what now? Where did they go from here?

The answers continued to elude him, and not even the damp night air could clear his head. The rain had stopped, but the storm in his head wouldn’t dim. He rubbed his temples, wondering if he should wake up Zoey so they could talk about what just happened, but then he heard Rocky bark and his guard shot up twenty feet.

Instantly, his hand lowered to the gun he’d tucked in the small of his back after he’d slipped on his jeans and left Zoey sleeping in the guest room. Rocky’s bark could only mean two things—either the dog had gotten stuck in a bush (which Chase wouldn’t put past him) or there was something out there in the woods.

Something…or someone.

Gripping his weapon with both hands, Chase crossed the lawn, the wet grass tickling his bare feet. When he reached the edge of the forest he stopped, listening. A beat of silence, and then a canine cry of pain rang out, echoing in the dark night. Dread seized his gut, causing him to slowly move forward through the brush.

He didn’t call out for Rocky, not wanting to reveal his location in case the dog wasn’t out there alone. When he stepped into a small clearing surrounded with thick pines, his heart nearly stopped. The golden Lab lay on the dirt, curled on his side and whimpering in pain. Even in the darkness, Chase made out the streak of blood on Rocky’s hind leg. Other than Rocky, the clearing was empty, but Chase couldn’t fight the wariness climbing up his chest like a vine.

"Hey, boy," he murmured, slowing approaching the wounded animal. "Let me look at that leg, Roc."

He knelt down, still holding the gun in his right hand, while his left reached down to inspect Rocky’s injury. Rocky stared at him with wide eyes. Was that pain or fear? Chase’s instincts were humming, pulse pounding out a beat that screamed danger, but there was no evidence of another human being in the clearing.

Until he studied the cut on Rocky’s leg.

Adrenaline pumped through his blood. The cut…it was one clean slash. Not the kind of cut you got from a branch, or a fall. It had come from a knife.

Chase shot to his feet at the exact instant he heard the footsteps from behind. He raised his gun, but a fraction of a second too late.

Before he could blink, something heavy smashed into his head, and as stars danced in front of his eyes, he felt the knife slicing into his side. Agony smashed into him, making him keel over. And then everything went black.