Michelle Karl - Outside The Law

“Aren’t you staying in the spare room?”

“Not if you need it. I can go elsewhere.”

He stopped walking, and she noticed only after she’d taken several steps ahead. Was he really going to give up that easily? The sincerity on his face made her feel bad for rejecting his company. After all, he’d driven her here and gotten his car shot up by the guys who’d come after her.

She’d also be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t curious about what he’d been up to since she’d boarded the plane for Amar a decade ago. Maybe a little company wouldn’t be too bad, at least for dinner. It didn’t have to mean anything. Keep telling yourself that, Yasmine.

Her heart did a little flip when she looked back at him. He’d grown into his frame well. The last time she’d seen him, he was all arms and legs, with spiky blond hair and front teeth that only a mama rabbit would love. Now his shoulders were broad and strong, and he’d filled out his features. His stance radiated confidence, and if she hadn’t known he’d gone into law enforcement, she’d have guessed at some kind of work that required both strength and mental fortitude. He hadn’t flinched when she’d given the order to drive as bullets peppered his car’s windshield. Quite a different Noel from the boy she’d known who’d refused to talk to her for months after he’d confessed his crush on her when she was nine and he, eleven.

She’d developed feelings for him far too late to do anything about it—they’d been like ships passing in the night, because by the time she’d gathered the courage to tell him about her girlish crush at fourteen years old, her parents had already planned to whisk the family off to be with her ill grandmother before she passed away, and the trip became a move. Besides, at the time, she’d thought he probably didn’t care for her anymore. Not as more than a friend, anyway, since he always seemed to be holding hands with one girl or another in the hallways at school.

Surely he’d gotten married and had several children by now. She couldn’t see his ring finger from where she stood, but the thought of allowing a married Noel Black to eat dinner with her and catch up seemed less threatening than it initially had.

“Look, I didn’t mean to sound rash,” she said. “There’s a little Mediterranean restaurant up the road, a five-minute walk. I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to and how you got that flashy new accessory.”

He nodded and rejoined her. They walked more or less in silence toward the restaurant, Yasmine leading the way. After a few minutes, Noel broke the stalemate.

“Yasmine, what you said about Daniel—”

“Can we not? Not right now. Not here.”

“Sure, sure.”

The silence resumed until they neared the intersection where the little restaurant was located. They stood waiting for the walk signal, but when the light turned green, one of the cars at the intersection backfired. Yasmine gasped and ducked out of instinct. Her cheeks immediately warmed as she realized her blunder, seeing an antique-looking red convertible sputter through the intersection and down the road.

She accepted Noel’s outstretched hand to help her back to her feet, but resented the raised eyebrow he turned on her.

“Can you blame me?” she muttered before hoofing it across the street. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with today, without getting jumpy at every loud noise. She pulled open the door to the Mediterranean restaurant and held up two fingers for the hostess. The young woman pulled two menus from a pile at the host stand and seated Yasmine and Noel in a booth by the front window.

Yasmine flipped open the menu but closed it immediately. She knew what she wanted to eat. Something familiar and comforting. Today was not the day to take risks.

“What’s good here?” Noel perused the menu with feigned interest. Yasmine could tell that he wasn’t paying full attention. His frequent glances at her said that he had questions to ask, but he hoped she’d answer them without him saying a word.

She tried to pretend she didn’t notice and gazed out the window at the passing cars. “The moussaka here is fantastic. Better than my aunt’s version, but don’t tell her.”

“Moose-what? What’s in that, eggplant?” He tapped the plastic-covered menu and sighed. “I have to admit, I’m relieved that I was the one driving down your street this afternoon. I was on my way to the bank on the other side of town and decided to take a shortcut down Willow. If I hadn’t come along when I did...”

His voice trailed off, and she felt his eyes bore into her. She wanted to eat and find a place to sleep. Her aunt would take her in without question—well, maybe a few questions—but she’d also want to talk about Daniel. And there’d be worry and fussing and phone calls overseas. Yasmine just wanted a place to lie down and close her eyes. Her 5:00 a.m. start at the bakery would come soon enough, as it always did.

“Yasmine?”

Her attention snapped back to him at the sudden tension in his voice. His posture had gone rigid, and he stared at a spot below her clavicle. She tried to follow his gaze.

“Don’t!” he exclaimed.

Alarm sliced through her stomach, and she hardly dared to breathe. She saw the panic in his eyes, panic that he’d obviously been trained to bury. “What is it?”

His throat tightened, and she looked anyway as he took a sharp breath. She froze as her eyes locked on the red dot that wavered directly over her heart.

A sniper outside had pinned her in his crosshairs.

* * *

Noel tried to clamp down on the panic. This was real life. Not a training exercise. Less than twenty-four hours out of Quantico and the woman across the table from him had a sniper ready to end her life at any moment.

What was the right move in this situation? You’re sitting here thinking, and that shot could kill her before you blink.

“Get down!” he shouted. He waited until he saw her move before launching himself sideways.

Glass shattered around them, and the thud of bullets hitting the back of the booth told Noel she’d gotten out of the way just in time. She lay sprawled on the floor as screams erupted inside the restaurant, patrons leaping from their seats to head to the back of the room. He reached for Yasmine’s arm, and she crawled toward him.

“Everyone okay?” he called into the restaurant. “Has anyone been hurt? Check your neighbor!” The patrons scrambled to check limbs and look each other over, sending thumbs up his way to indicate they were all right. With no immediate injuries to handle, he turned his attention back to Yasmine.

“You all right?” The way she favored her left knee looked worrisome.

“I’m fine,” she said. She crouched next to him behind the next set of booth seats. “Shouldn’t we get out of here?”

“Not until I know it’s safe.” He touched the gun holstered on his side, reminding himself it was there if he needed it. He peered around the corner of the booth, scanning for any unusual movement across the street, but at seven o’clock, the descending twilight made it difficult to see anything out of place. Plenty of cars zoomed through the intersection just outside the front door, oblivious to the goings-on inside the restaurant.

“How will you know that?” Yasmine sounded impatient. “I feel like a sitting duck here. We should move.”

“No. We wait for the police.”

“Whoever shot at me will be gone by then. If it’s a sniper, he won’t have had time to set up again and will be on the move. We can spot him. It’s not like it’s easy to disguise a sniper rifle. Let’s go!”

Noel stared at Yasmine, whose entire body seemed to tremble with the need to get up and move. “No. We let the police handle it.” He pulled out his phone and began to call the direct line to the station, but a growl of frustration stopped him short.