by Em Petrova
“I’ll never forgive myself.” He crushed his lips against hers, and tremors ran through her.
“North,” someone said.
He tore from the kiss and looked up. The blonde stood beside them. “You want to hear this. Leave her with me. The motherfucker’s waiting for you on the roadside.”
Bodhi shifted Sloane in his arms and let her slide to her feet. Her muscles ached from her ordeal, though she managed to stand with the help of both him and the blonde.
“Take her away, Madeline, where she can’t hear.”
At his deadly tone, a shiver ran through Sloane.
“Come on, honey.” She took Sloane’s arm and led her to yet another car parked some distance away. She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced over her shoulder to see Bodhi stiffly moving toward the hump on the road.
“Is that the driver?” she asked the blonde.
“Don’t look at them. We’re going to sit down and I’ll see to your injuries.”
She was about to ask what injuries and then realized she must bear more cuts and bruises than she originally thought. When they reached the black sedan, the woman helped her into the back seat.
In the front, Archer twisted around to look at her. “God. I’m so sorry, Sloane. They caught me off guard and—”
“It’s not your fault. It just happened,” she said softly, seeing the torment in the man’s eyes.
“Here, drink this.” The blonde put a sports drink in her hand, and she sipped automatically as she stared toward the wrecked vehicles.
“You ran into him. To make him stop.” She turned her eyes to the blonde woman.
She smiled. “Not my idea. Your bodyguard took matters into his own hands and jerked the wheel out of my hands. All I could do was brace for impact.” She drew a blanket out of a bag on the floor and wrapped it around Sloane’s shoulders. “I’m Madeline, by the way. I—”
The muffled gunshot reached them even through the closed windows of the sedan. Sloane’s jaw dropped, and she began to shake at what she knew to be true—North killed a man because he kidnapped her. She was in love with a man who could deliver vengeance in a way most couldn’t even think about.
When he began walking back to the car, she focused on his face. The closer he drew, the better she made out the set of his shoulders and then his jaw. His eyes glittered, his expression far away. He wasn’t holding a weapon, and she felt grateful she didn’t have to see it. Understanding what needed to happen and how Bodhi could perform such an act were two very different things. She couldn’t quite reconcile any of it in her mind.
He slid into the back seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Drive, Archer.”
He did, doing a U-turn in the road to head the opposite direction.
“What happens to the m-man? Or the cars?” Sloane asked from her position tucked against Bodhi’s chest.
“They get cleaned up.” His voice held an edge she didn’t know if she could handle hearing.
“Why is it we’re always cleaning people off roads?” Madeline muttered. “You guys realize it’s not the easiest, right?”
“Madeline,” Bodhi said in a warning tone.
“Well, regardless of the paperwork I’ll have to deal with once I get back, good job back there, North.” She gave him a nod, and then offered a slight smile to Sloane. She didn’t feel capable of returning it, so she only blinked back at her.
When they stopped driving, she realized she’d drifted into a sort of shocked trance. Being back in Bodhi’s arms as he carried her into a house centered her again. He set her on a sofa and returned to the door. He spoke quietly to Madeline and Archer for a minute and then closed the door. She heard the lock click.
He threw her a look and then disappeared down a hallway. A moment later, she heard water flooding into a bathtub. He returned for her. “Come on.”
He gathered her up and carried her into the bathroom. While he stripped off her dirty clothes and helped her into the hot water, he didn’t meet her gaze.
She sank into the depths and issued a moan as the warmth kneaded at her sore muscles and bruises. He sat back on the toilet seat and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Reaching out, she grasped his forearm. Their gazes connected.
“Tell me what happened, in your words. Please,” he added in a rough voice.
Haltingly, in spurts of speech, she relayed all she remembered.
“Was it Flint’s man?”
He nodded. “It’s done. He’ll never hurt you again. You should know I killed him.”
“I know.”
He chewed his lip a moment. “There’s something else you should know.”
Sitting up straighter, she gave him her whole attention.
“We broke into Flint’s house. He wasn’t home, but I found a phone book. We paired some of the numbers with addresses and we located several of the girls he’s sold. Our men have them right now and are on their way to the same rehabilitation center where we dropped Lauren. She’s making improvements, by the way. She’s starting to talk about her ordeal.”
Her heart tripled its beat, and she held her breath as she waited to hear one name—Scarlett.
Bodhi scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, creating a rasping sound.
“Bodhi?”
He held her stare. “One of the numbers led us to Scarlett.”
She shot upward, half leaving the tub. He caught her and eased her back down. “She’s alive? Is she all right? Does she want to come to my place?” She started to shake again.
“Sloane…”
A dread filled her. “She’s not okay, is she?”
He shook his head. “It seems that she’s been brainwashed to believe she belongs there with the man who bought her.”
She gasped. Never in her days, weeks or months of thinking of her sister did she ever consider such a thing. “What?” she whispered.
Bodhi picked up the washcloth and began rubbing small circles on her spine. “It happens, probably more commonly than one would think.”
“She wouldn’t leave? You talked to her?”
“Yes, we talked to her, and she claims she’s happy.”
“Sh-she can’t be happy! Who could be happy living a life you never wanted?” Her voice pitched higher, and he soothed her by trickling warm water over her shoulders.
“We’ll get her back. Madeline and I are forming a plan. She thinks she can convince her if she gets her alone.”
“And if she can’t?”
“Then we’ll carry her out against her will and force her into a mental health center where someone can help her see the truth.” He pinned her with his stare. “Sloane, I promise you, someday you will have your sister back. It might take some time, and you need to be patient for Scarlett’s sake—but you will have her back.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at her legs, distorted by the water, though still the bruises were glaringly evident.
“How many more people are after me?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t certain, but events surrounding the movie are calming. We’re seeing less protests as companies enact new regulations and make critical changes to their practices. The people will calm down in time, and all you’ll need to worry about then is accepting your Oscar.”
She dropped her head. “My God. Who cares about an Oscar when I just spent God knows how long in the trunk of a car?”
Bodhi wrapped his arm around her, leaning far into the tub in order to hold her.
She gripped him. “Thank you for saving me.”
“My God, Sloane. You never need to thank me for that. I thought I’d lose my mind when I found out you were taken.”
“I’m okay.” She realized that the bruises would fade, and so would the memory, as time passed. If those girls Flint sold could get through their ordeals, so could she.
His phone buzzed, and he drew back, swiped his hand to dry off on his jeans and answered it. He listened in silence and then ended the call.
Searching his face for signs of trouble, she asked, “What was that?”
“Sloane, listen. This house is one that belongs to my boss and his wife. They’re going to take care of you while I go out.”
“Where?” She shot out of the water and grabbed for a towel.
“Word came in that another girl’s set to go out tonight, and we have reason to believe Flint’s going to be there at the exchange.”
“Take me with you!” She dropped the damp towel and reached for her clothes, even though she didn’t want to put them back on.
He caught her wrists and looked up into her eyes where she stood in front of him. “I can’t. It’s too much after what you’ve been through. Hell, it’s too much no matter what.”
She shook her head. “I’m stronger than you think.”
He issued a short huff of breath. “Sweetheart, you’re far from weak—I know that. You’re still better off here with Oz and Rose.”
She jerked the top over her head. “This is my cause. I’m going.”
* * * * *
North stared across the table at his boss. Oz brought his whiskey to his lips and sipped, while North’s drink sat untouched.
“She says she’s going with us.”
“It’s dangerous. You won’t be able to control everything about the situation. Are you certain you want to put her into harm’s way?” Oz arched a black eyebrow.
He shook his head. “That’s the last fucking thing I want. I barely survived the last time I thought I’d never get her back.” His ragged words ripped from his chest. Too late to take them back. They hung in the air between them.
In one look, Oz seemed to size him up, and North let him see through him.
Extending his arm, Bodhi said, “You might as well cut the chip out of me, because I can’t stop feeling what I feel for her.”
“North—”
“Hell, I’ll cut it out myself.” He jumped up and strode to the knife block by the stove. He yanked one free and poised the sharp tip at the place where the microchip lay beneath the skin.
“Oh my God! Bodhi, what are you doing?” Sloane’s shriek cut through him sharper than any blade. She rushed at him, and he dropped the knife to the countertop.
“He’s not doing anything,” Oz drawled out, sipping his drink again. “He’s just being a drama queen.”
Sloane turned to Oz. “What are you talking about?”
“I have a chip buried in my wrist. It gives me advantages in my work, but it means I belong to The Guard, and they frown upon a bodyguard being with his ward.”
Oz sat back and toasted to that, lifting his glass and taking another sip. When he lowered it, he said, “Sit down, North. Come have a seat next to me, Miss Sailor. It seems we need to talk sense to our mutual friend.”
North stared at each of them.
Sloane sat between them and looked at the bottle. “Can I have a drink?”
“Of course.” Oz offered a smile and then poured her a fresh shot in one of the glasses he set out on the table.
She took it in hand, met North’s gaze, and then slammed it back. He watched her throat work and her eyes register the burn, but she didn’t even shudder at the strong liquor.
“Now.” She placed her hands on the table. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Oz eyed her. “The rule’s recently been amended in the book. There is no consequence for having relations with a ward.” He spoke directly to North.
“I know what was written, but that’s not the oath I took. I promised myself—”
“That you wouldn’t touch me?” Sloane asked quietly.
He nodded.
“I understand. I don’t want to cause you any problems, Bodhi—”
He swiped a hand through the air, cutting her off. “This isn’t your fault. It’s all on me. I knew better and I didn’t stop myself.”
“You don’t need to convince me of anything,” Oz said. “I’m as guilty of touching a ward. Hell, I married mine.”
Sloane’s head whipped around, and she gaped at Oz.
Looking at Sloane, North was forced to ask himself exactly what he did feel for her. A few days weren’t enough to know jack shit. He needed longer with her, and he’d been willing to quit The Guard if that was what it took.
“We’re not taking your chip, North. You’re too valuable. I said this before, and I mean it. I think you’ve been through some things, and you need time to think. Meanwhile, there’s a girl to save tonight.” Oz sliced a look at Sloane, and North read his unspoken question. Is she going?
Hell, I don’t know. She deserves to, but how can I put her at risk again? How can I risk my heart a second time?
“I’d like to go, Bodhi. Please.”
Chest burning with a sigh, he finally nodded. “All right. You go with us, but you do everything I tell you to, even if it’s to run and leave me behind. Got it?”
She didn’t look like she would agree, though she finally said, “Got it.”
Oz twisted the cap back on the whiskey and stood. “I’ll let Rose know that we’ll be alone tonight.”
North watched his boss leave the room. When Sloane turned to follow, he caught her by the wrist. Swinging her back into his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her breaths quickened, her chest rising and falling.
“You’re fighting this battle because of me,” she said softly.
Staring down at her, he wondered how he could ever question himself about loving her—the answer lay there for anyone to see. Even Oz.
“I can’t deny that…I feel something for you, Sloane.”
She jerked her face up, eyes latching onto his. “You do?”
He focused on her plump lips and the twist that drove him so crazy so often. “Yes, I do. I’m not ready to trust it completely—I’ve never felt this way.”
“Bodhi, I’m as afraid as you are. You don’t want to get involved with me because of your work. I don’t believe in relationships either. I’ve seen too many bad things—young girls who should be in school, not wives and mommas and slaves to their lives.”
He nodded.
“Yet…” She tipped her head up to meet his stare. “I do feel strongly for you.”
“You’ve been through an ordeal. You could change your mind when you feel better.”
“You don’t understand that a woman knows when she feels something for a man. It’s not like experiencing indigestion.” Her lips twisted on the last word, but she couldn’t conceal the slight twang.
At that, he tossed his head back on a laugh. “Well, maybe it is indigestion. And I knew it—I knew you were holding back a Southern drawl.”
A small smile spread over her face. “You knew that?”
“I know a lot about you. And you know more about me than most.”
She slipped her arms up around his neck and tangled her fingers into his hair. Drawing him down bit by bit, she held his gaze. “Maybe I need to say it again, without fighting my accent. Bodhi North, you might think I have a stomachache, but I think I’m falling in love with you,” she drawled in the sweetest, most syrupy Southern belle drawl he’d ever heard in his life.
Yanking her onto tiptoe, he crushed his lips over hers.
The heat of her body against his provided the effect he knew it would—his cock throbbed behind his fly. He pulled back and glanced over her head, eyeing up the table.
She seemed to understand his intention, because she gripped his shirt front. “We can’t use your friends’ table!” she whispered.
He cocked a brow. “The floor then?”
A shiver ran through her, and he knew she ached like he did. The sharp points of her nipples poking at her top revealed it even if her glowing eyes and breathless tone didn’t. “We can’t, Bodhi. Not here, not now…”
Gently, he tipped her face up to his and brushed his mouth across hers once more, sealing in the promise of next time. “Very soon I’ll have you the way we both need, baby.”
A heavy boot step ma
de him look up at the doorway. Oz stood braced there. “They’re ready to roll when you are.”
Sloane grabbed his hand and meshed their fingers. “You’re not leaving me behind.”
Looking to Oz, North lifted their joined hands. “Guess we’re ready.”
Oz’s crooked grin felt good to see. Knowing he wouldn’t be judged for something so unstoppable as falling for Sloane eased some of the weight from his shoulders and allowed him to focus on the mission at hand.
“Godspeed, North. Take care of each other.”
Sloane’s lips popped open in surprise, and then she turned to North with a smile. “We will.”
Chapter Eleven
Sloane sat at Bodhi’s side, watching his every move from the corner of her eye. Even the way he gripped the steering wheel turned her on. Knowing they were on their way to stop another girl from being exchanged for money created a hollow pit of nausea in her stomach, but looking at the man driving eased her fears.
Take care of each other, Oz said. Those words evoked a dozen memories in her—of Bodhi getting her to safety time and again.
Her mind routed right back to their conversation in that kitchen. Did she really feel what she thought she did for Bodhi? Could she really be in love with the man?
When he questioned her words, she had to wonder if she’d been rash in speaking them. She meant what she said about never wanting a relationship. She avoided getting involved, and not only because the circles she ran in were so fickle.
The first time she crawled into his bed, she believed it to be comfort only—the sense of safety Bodhi provided to her. Then she saw so many other good qualities in him that she allowed herself to let go and feel.
She slanted another look at his profile. After this ended, what then? She eventually returned to her work and he to his. Finding time for each other would be impossible. He’d be out guarding people, and she’d be on set for long hours at a time.
The idea of knowing Bodhi would be out there, in the world somewhere, and she wouldn’t have the opportunity to see him caused a spike of hurt through her heart. She clenched her fingers in her lap and directed her attention to the road ahead.
“Do you usually do so much driving for missions? It seems we’ve been all over the South in the past few days.”