“Next,” Adam barked.

The young man next in line to run the obstacle course readied himself. “Go,” Adam announced.

Rachel wiped sweat from her face and stretched her arms and back, while she followed the current student’s progress during his run.

“You’re being flamboyant,” Adam snapped, frowning. “Leave the theatrics at home or for when you’ve become a professional free-runner. You’re not there yet. If we’d been outside, I’d be calling for an ambulance. Remember, safety is your priority. Understood?” Adam’s rebuke rattled the teen's composure, and Rachel shook her head. She knew where this was going. Sure enough, he ended up falling after failing the jump between the two balconies and landed in the foam pit.

“Rachel, you’re next.”

She nodded and walked to the start of the course, all the while sensing Adam’s eyes on her.

Her return to Adam’s studio had been tense, but after her two-week break—and a lot of prodding deemed “encouragement” by Sarah—Rachel decided to face her fears and return to Gateway Parkour studio. Adam couldn’t keep her from free-running. She loved it too much. She clapped her hands together and rubbed.

“Rachel?” She whipped her head toward his voice. “I said go.” A few of the teenagers twittered at his chastisement, and Rachel blushed. She hadn’t heard him the first time, too lost in her own fantasies.

“Yeah, sorry.” Rachel took a deep breath and broke into a run. She knew these pieces of the course well by now, but they’d only recently started to run it freestyle.

She hopped over the first half wall in her path, landing easily on her feet. Then, using her momentum, she jumped, head-first, sliding-in-to-home-base-style, up the six stairs that followed; she landed in an awkward roll, bumping her shoulder hard on the concrete sidewalk Adam had installed for realism, and came up running. Students whooped behind her and she smiled. She had loved that trick and thanked Zach mentally for teaching it to her weeks before.

Next, she hurdled over a horizontal pipe, propelling herself forwards, then immediately launched herself up the faux tree. In one swing, she had her legs up, straddling the branch. Pushing to her feet, she balanced there while using the tree’s height to gain to the first-story balcony. Flopping over the railing, Rachel paused.

This section of the obstacle course would be the hardest since both balconies were far apart and not at the same level. She hesitated a moment, mentally calculating the distance.

She leapt forward and up. Her hands connected with the edge of the second railing, but her fingers slipped. Rachel cursed but managed to hold on with her right hand.

Rachel stayed suspended, the muscles of her arms screaming in protest. Grunting in effort, she used her feet to build momentum until she could scramble up and over the railing. There she rested, trying to catch her breath and to still her shaking arms. That had been close, but at least she hadn’t fallen.

“Are you going to finish?” Adam challenged. Glancing down, Rachel spied Adam staring at her, arms crossed, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as if to say he didn’t think she could do it. She gritted her teeth, ready to prove him wrong.

At his cockiest, Adam aggravated her to no end. Add to it the attraction she felt toward him, and it made for a potent mix of frustration and desire. “I plan to,” she snapped back.

Finding the handgrips she needed in the brick facade of the building, Rachel scaled the wall to the roof. She ran to the other side, used one of the pipes to shimmy down halfway, and finished by using the fall-and-roll to absorb the shock to her ankles and knees. When she gained her feet, and crossed the finish line, the other students clapped.

“Not too bad. You need to keep practicing. Your run still lacks finesse,” Adam commented. This time, she couldn’t help it, she stuck her tongue at him, half playful, half annoyed.

He lifted an eyebrow. “That will be all for tonight,” Adam announced. “Zach will be waiting for you next Tuesday for the usual skills enhancement session.”

Slowly, the students grabbed their bags, their jackets, and their towels and left the studio one by one. As Rachel headed toward the changing room located in the bathroom, she passed Zach in the hallway.

“Bye, Rach,” he said with a small smile. “See you next week.”

“Yeah. Sure. Bye, Zach,” she replied. When she left the bathroom a few minutes later, the studio was quiet. Not even Zach wandered around. Disappointed at not seeing Adam, she made her way to the exit.

“I thought you’d left already.”

Rachel whirled around to find Adam leaning against the wall behind her. He was staring at her again, and she could have sworn his dark eyes burned into hers. She licked her dry lips, her body temperature skyrocketing.

“I was wondering—” she started, hesitating to ask.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind giving me a ride home? I... want to talk to you. About the other night.” She winced. God, that sounded needy.

The silence stretched between them, and she wondered if Adam would respond with an excuse. When he finally spoke, he surprised her yet again. “Do you want to go out with me? To dinner? Tonight?”

Rachel nodded. “I’d love to have dinner.”

“There’s a decent restaurant called The Fountain down on Locust. I went there once to have some fun. Decent milkshakes.”

Rachel smiled. “Milkshakes. Sure. Sounds good.” Rachel grabbed her jacket, but Adam got to it before her. Gallantly, he presented it to her, so she could slip her arms inside the sleeves, but as she was about to step away from him, his hands found her shoulders, stopping her. They lingered there, giving her goosebumps. She closed her eyes, expecting him to draw away any second.

The tension and desire between them grew as he lightly caressed her arms and now Rachel felt ready to burst with it. She sighed at his touch and Adam didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed her shoulders, twirled her around, and bent to capture her lips in a scorching kiss. She clutched his arms, drawing him closer. That kiss lit an inferno inside her.

The restaurant forgotten, he led her away from the studio door to the stairs. She wanted all of him, right then, right there, but he kept enough distance between them to keep the fire burning hot. She tried to grab his shirt and force him closer, but he snatched her hand away. She reached with her other hand, but he captured that one, as well.

She groaned in protest, realizing he’d effectively pinned her hands to her sides. “I hope... you don’t mind... staying here after all,” he said between long, drugging kisses. He slipped her out of her jacket and let it drop to the floor at the base of the stairs.

Yes! her mind cheered. “Food... later... don’t care.”

Adam chuckled as they climbed the stairs. Once on the landing, he guided her backward, presumably toward the bed. He slowed their advance, and with surprising gentleness—unlike his earlier intensity and dominance—he helped lower her to the mattress, before settling between her legs.

“Too many clothes,” she growled, frustrated as she tugged at the hem of his t-shirt.

Bracing his weight on his elbow, Adam caught the neckline of his shirt at the back and slid it over his head. He tossed it to the side as his eyes raked her form with unrestrained lust.

Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down for a kiss. Immediately, she ran her fingers along his back, sensing every muscle flexing under his skin as he moved. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever felt, and it was only his back.

Knowing this hot guy wanted her as much as she did him made her about ready to spontaneously combust. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

“Not yet,” he chided. “Savor.”

He nibbled and kissed a path from her earlobe to her bra-covered breasts. When had he undone the buttons on her blouse? She didn’t remember him working on them, but they were definitely undone now. He released her right breast from her bra and his thumb teased the taut peak of her nipple. She gasped. He was driving her mad!

They were in the middle of yet another passionate kiss when Adam tensed. His head lifted from hers to stare at the stairs leading up to his loft. The lust and desire drained from his face so fast it looked as if he’d been doused with ice water.

What...?

He rolled off her, landing in a crouch beside the bed, and he whispered urgently, “Get in the closet.”—Adam pointed to it over his shoulder.—“Don’t ask questions, don’t speak, do nothing no matter what you see! Do not come out until I come back and get you! Now go!”

“What?”

“Go!”

Rachel scrambled off the bed, wincing as she hustled toward the closet. Wrenching open the door, she threw herself inside.

Once alone and in the dark, confined space, she questioned herself. Why had he sent her to hide as if he were an errant teen with parents at the door? It didn’t make sense. What was going on? She pushed the door ajar and pressed her eye to the crack.

Back in the room, Adam had adopted a fighting stance, one she remembered from all those “training” sessions she’d witnessed. That was when she heard the footsteps on the stairs leading up to the loft. Two sets. They were so quiet she would have missed them if it wasn’t for Adam’s change in stature. How had he even known someone was coming?

“You finally found me,” Adam taunted, his tone cruel. “It certainly took you a while.”

“Hashashin,” a voice rumbled in answer.

Hashashin?

Rachel had barely thought the question when Adam threw himself to one side, rolling out of her sight, right as a gun fired. Rachel crouched lower. Several, sharp little pops, that didn’t sound anything like the guns in movies, accompanied the scuffle she heard on the other side of the door. At the risk of being detected, she inched the door open a fraction more, wondering if she should call 911.

Quickly, she located Adam. He stood on the other side of the loft, locked in a deadly dance with one of two masked men. He had managed to disable one opponent, who was currently lying on the floor, presumably unconscious, and the second attacker was trying to shoot him, but Adam never gave him the chance.

In quick succession, Adam knocked the man’s arm aside and disarmed him. Rachel watched, unable to look away as Adam produced a knife, seemingly from thin air.

Holy shit! It had to be a good nine inches of gleaming, lethal steel.

Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth as Adam then plunged the blade into his opponent’s throat, spraying blood everywhere. Within seconds, the man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backward, dead.

Adam spun and walked to the unconscious man near the stairs and slit his throat. Throwing himself into a roll, he disappeared from Rachel’s view right as another volley of gunfire echoed through the room from the hallway below.

Who is this guy?! Rachel thought, panicking. He just freaking killed somebody—two somebodies!

She heard a faint “son-of-a-bitch” and recognized Adam’s voice. Then a body thudded against a hard surface. Rachel desperately wanted to look but didn’t dare. Had Adam been hurt?

The silence stretched until Rachel couldn’t bear listening to it anymore. She knew she should stay out of sight and wait for Adam, the cops, or divine intervention from God, but she couldn’t do it. She had to know what happened.

Inching the door open again, she peeked around it, spotting Adam almost at once. He stood with his back pressed against the wall next to the stairs, waiting.

When he saw her, he put his finger to his lip, urging silence and waved her back into the closet. Rachel retreated inside.

“You think he’s dead?” a voice asked.

“No,” came a reply. “He’s up to something and if you value your life, you’ll stay put.”

“Yes, sir.”

Minutes ticked by.

Nothing moved.

No one spoke.

The wait weighed on her nerves, becoming oppressive and she longed to leave the closet if only to determine what was going on.

Eventually, the ache in her thighs from crouching drove Rachel to shift, and she eased herself to her knees.

How long would the stalemate last? Adam wouldn’t give up the high ground. Rachel knew enough about battle strategy to know he had the upper hand here, but at the same time, if the attackers on the main floor didn’t leave, they would be stuck up here indefinitely. She seriously doubted Adam’s bedroom was equipped to withstand a siege.

A scream of pain broke the stillness of the studio and Rachel squealed in alarm, and she cringed. A few seconds later, the closet door wrenched open and it was her turn to shriek.

Adam stood in front of her, his hand held out to help her up.

She stood without his aid. Her gaze was drawn to his chest which was splattered with blood. And so was his face. Even more disturbing than the macabre blood freckles was the fact he wasn’t even breathing hard. He showed no outward signs the attack and murders had bothered him in any way. “You can come out,” he said, turning. He strode toward his dresser on the other side of the room.

She inched closer as he pulled open a drawer and grabbed something black from within.

“Put this on,” he ordered as he tossed it to her.

The item unfurled as it made its way to her, and after catching the sweatshirt, she pulled it over her head.

Slipping from his shirt, Adam wiped the blood off his face and chest and then donned a new shirt before tugging on a gray and black hooded sweatshirt. “We have to move. There will be more of them.”

Rachel gulped. “M-more of t-them?”

*****If you like Innocence, please add it to your library!