Dark Angel 03: Broken Dream Read Free

open.
    So no. I was in New York, convincing myself I was free, that I didn’t need to warn or protect anyone, and that what had just happened was a city mugging, pure and simple. I got up from the trampled snow and, supporting my right wrist with my unharmed left hand, I stumbled out from behind the carousel.
    ‘Hey, are you OK?’ a voice asked.
    A guy, a total stranger, strode towards me through the snow. I couldn’t make out any details, only that he wore a dark padded jacket but no hat and that he sounded concerned.
    Drawing a deep breath, I nodded. I didn’t want to stop and talk, I was desperate to get to the park gates, where I was certain Orlando would be waiting.
    ‘What happened to your hand?’ the stranger asked. He was closer now – tall, dark-haired, out-of-this-world handsome – and I did a kind of double take.
    It couldn’t be … surely not!
    ‘No, I’m not Jack Kane,’ he confirmed as if he read what was going on inside my muddled brain. ‘A lot of people make the same mistake. I’m Charlie Speke, his stuntman double.’
    My wrist ached and I could still feel the imprint of the mugger’s boot in the small of my back. My jacket and jeans were caked with snow. ‘The guy in the hat back there – did you see him?’
    The stranger nodded.
    ‘He stole my bag and my phone.’ I broke down and sobbed helplessly.
    Then the Jack Kane lookalike took my arm and led me to the carousel entrance, where the female operator was busy locking a metal grille. ‘Stand here in the porch,’ Charlie Speke told me. ‘Take a deep breath and tell me exactly what happened.’
    ‘The guy came out of nowhere, grabbed me from behind. I was looking for my boyfriend. I’d lost him in the crowd, back by the volleyball courts. He’ll be waiting by the gates. I have to go.’
    ‘Slow down,’ Charlie said.
    ‘Jeez!’ The carousel worker had locked up, glanced at Charlie and made the usual mistake.
    ‘Nope,’ he said with a smile and a quick shake of his head. ‘I’m not him. I’m nobody.’
    The woman checked out his thick, short jet-black hair and hazel eyes under strong, straight brows, his small, neat ears, angular jaw and high cheekbones. ‘You got to be kidding,’ she challenged.
    ‘If only,’ he shrugged. ‘But believe me – I’m nobody. If I’m Jack Kane, where’s my security team? Where’s my helicopter?’
    ‘Got you,’ she agreed – an everyday, middle-aged woman in a dark-blue coat and black boots, not the type to be overly impressed by celebrity in any case. She glanced my way and saw the tears. ‘You OK?’
    ‘It’s cool, I got it,’ Charlie assured her and she nodded then headed for the walkway, taking the opposite direction to the one I wanted to go.
    ‘What’s your name?’ He was helping me to brush the snow from the back of my collar.
    ‘Tania. Tania Ionescu.’
    ‘Tania, I’ll come with you, make sure you’re safe,’ he offered, making small talk as we walked. ‘You were in the park to watch the filming? Did you get a good look at the living legend? I guess you saw the first Siege movie? How did you rate it?’
    Then, when I’d calmed down, he asked me again about the guy who had stolen my bag. ‘Can you recall any details about how he looked?’
    I shook my head.
    ‘What he was wearing, how tall – that kind of thing?’
    ‘Shorter than me, maybe only five eight. He had one of those hats that hunters wear, with the ear flaps. A dark leather jacket.’
    ‘White? Black?’
    ‘He looked mixed-race.’
    ‘And he took your wallet, your money, everything?’
    I nodded miserably.
    ‘But your boyfriend is waiting for you at the entrance to the park?’
    ‘Let’s hope,’ I said with an anxious sigh.
    ‘So we’ll soon find out.’
    Stuntman Charlie was right. We were past the Wollman ice rink, almost at the gates. In the street beyond I could see the horse-drawn buggies waiting by the sidewalk, blowing steam into the cold dusk air.
    I picked up speed, certain that