Intensive Care Crisis. Karen Kirst

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      Skirting the large, complex pulley-and-weight station, she entered the rear hallway, then set down the sack and unlocked the double closet doors with the key she’d gotten from the main office. A creaking sound echoed through the gym. Breath hitching, she whirled around and nearly stumbled over the balls. The lights were off, and shadows lurked on either end of the hall.

      “Hello?”

      The men’s bathroom was to her left, the women’s on her right. Maybe they were occupied.

      Wishing she didn’t have a reason to be paranoid, Audrey entered the walk-in closet and emptied the balls into a metal container. Then she hung the sack on a wall hook. Impatient to be outside and around other people, she closed the doors with more force than necessary. She tried to jam the key into the knob and accidentally dropped it. When she bent to retrieve it, she heard heavy breathing behind her.

      Panicked, she shot upward and spun around in time to see a giant man in a suit swinging a barbell at her head. She tried to dodge it. The blow landed on her upper arm, knocking her sideways. Pain radiated through her.

      Pushing off the doorjamb, she sprinted past him. He put out a foot. She went sprawling face-first onto the thin carpet. Rolling beneath a weight bench, she screamed when the barbell slammed into the cushioned seat, the force sending vibrations through the metal legs. Terror exploded inside. This man was going to crush her skull with that thing.

      Audrey flipped to her stomach and crawled from beneath the bench. Leaping to her feet, she raced for the nearest exit, only to skid to a stop. A second man—younger and slighter but no less a threat—blocked her escape. There was no going around him.

      She was trapped.

      A scream ripped through the narrow room, and it wasn’t hers.

      Time seemed to screech to a halt. At the far end, another volleyball player stood frozen in her tracks. The goon with the twenty-five-pound weight glued to his fist snarled at his partner. “You were supposed to lock this place down.”

      “Must’ve missed one,” the other retorted.

      Weight Guy charged toward her.

      “Laney, run!” Audrey shouted.

      When the petite redhead didn’t react, Audrey raced after her attacker, vaulted onto the guy’s back and latched onto his thick neck.

      Laney’s eyes bugged.

      “Go, go!”

      At last, she bolted. Her retreating footsteps were like nails in a coffin. Audrey was now alone with two attackers. Not ordinary men. Muscle-bound henchmen with eyes dead to human compassion. Coldhearted killers.

      Trying to cut off his air supply was impossible. The room spun as he turned a circle and slammed her into the weight station. Sharp metal jarred her shoulder blades and spine and dug into her flesh. Her head snapped back.

      He shifted, and she slid to her knees. Spots danced in her vision. Her stomach lurched.

      In an instant, the second man was there. “Go get the other one. Conner’s still at the car. He can help you. I’ll deal with the nurse.”

      She heard a clink above her. A long, rubber-encased handle clattered to the floor nearby. Before she could summon the energy to flee, a beefy hand closed over her neck and hauled her to her feet.

      Audrey gagged and clawed at his grip. His pale eyes drilled into hers. Ruthless. Merciless.

      “You’ve caused my boss enough trouble,” he growled. “No more.”

      Before she could guess what he was about, he’d pushed her beneath the high lat muscle pull-down and looped twin cables around her neck. He reached behind her, and she heard the slide of the metal clip in the thin, black weights attached to the pull-down bar. The wire went taut, pinching her skin, forcing her onto her tiptoes.

      “Four hundred pounds should do it.”

      Her mind went blank. As soon as he let go of her, the cables stretched, the weights slapped into place and lifted her several inches off the floor.

      She dangled in midair, unable to breathe. She kicked and squirmed.

      Pain ripped through her. Her neck felt like it was about to separate from her body.

       Please, God. Help. I’m not ready—

      The bald, gold-jewelry-draped goon smirked. “No use fighting it, babe.”

      He crossed his arms and watched her struggle with frightening impassivity. His was the last face she’d ever see. A cruel, evil being taking delight in her fight to cling to life.

      Her lungs strained for oxygen. A familiar sensation.

      Was he the same one who’d attempted to strangle her at the hospital?

      Audrey grew light-headed. Her thoughts became disjointed.

      She ceased moving. The agony was too great.

      She closed her eyes and concentrated on her dad’s face. He’d loved her well. She would die thinking about him, not the end of unfulfilled dreams.

      * * *

      Julian left the flashy car and mystery man behind and was retracing his steps when a redhead burst through the gym’s side door, her face a white mask of disbelief. Her frantic gaze locked onto him.

      “Audrey,” she gasped, chest heaving. “Two men... I—I—”

      He gripped her shoulders. “Go to the office and call the police.”

      “Police.” Her throat convulsed. “Right.”

      “Walk, don’t run. Act casual.” He jerked his head toward the Mercedes tucked close to the apartment-building entrance. “Avoid that area. Take the long way around the outdoor pool.”

      “Okay.”

      Julian couldn’t delay. He’d have to trust she would follow his instructions and avoid the man who might very well be the getaway driver. Unsheathing his weapon from the ankle holster beneath his pants, he entered the gym and searched the space behind the check-in counter. The tiny office was closed on the weekends, and the locked door suggested no one was inside.

      His ears strained for sounds of struggle. The silence weighed on him. Blanking his mind to possible implications, he left the counter area and passed the water fountains and childcare room. Up ahead, treadmills and elliptical machines were parked in front of mounted televisions. There were no mirrors in that section that could give him a glimpse of Audrey’s situation.

      The adrenaline priming his body for confrontation left no room for fear. His training ruled his actions and decisions. So when a suited man turned the corner and headed straight for him, Julian fired two shots without blinking, one for each kneecap.

      Curses blistered the air as the man went down. Quickly divesting the man of his single weapon, Julian flattened against the wall and peered around the corner. Kneecap Guy’s cohort was on his way to investigate. That didn’t faze him.

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