Cherish and Protect: a small town romantic suspense novel (Heroes of Evers, TX Book 6)

by Lori Ryan

  Presley closed her eyes against the injustice of it. James Lawless deserved a break. He didn’t deserve the relentless hell life kept piling on top of him.

  “But you’re out of there now. You have Presley. You have a chance at happiness now. Forget about Silva and all that shit.”

  The next words out of James’s mouth broke Presley’s heart.

  “Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just disappeared. I hurt everyone around me. I don’t want that for Presley. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “You ever think maybe Presley would be hurt more if you left?”

  Presley wanted to cheer at Hunt’s suggestion. He was right. She realized then how much it would hurt if she lost James. She wanted him in her life. She wanted so much more with him.

  James didn’t answer the question, but Hunt didn’t seem to let that stop him.

  “You should ask her if she’d be better off without you. You like to take the choice away from people, sometimes, but I’ll tell you, James, I can’t handle losing you, too. Not after Lars. I’ll go on record right now. I won’t be better without you. And if you give Presley the choice, I bet you she’d say the same thing. I’ve seen the way she looks at you and I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  Presley closed her eyes against the pain Hunt’s words brought. Even thinking about her life without James hurt.

  29

  James drove in silence the following morning as they worked their way back to the airport. He was surprised it wasn’t harder, being out on the road. Other than the visits with Sarah and the one trip to Presley’s flower shop, he hadn’t left the ranch at all. Lulu lay in the back seat and Presley dozed next to him. When he’d come to bed after talking to Hunt the night before, he’d needed her so much he thought he might burn up with it. He’d woken her again and again in the night, taking her so many times, he thought for sure she’d turn him away. She never did. Her sleepy eyes greeted him with heat and need of their own and he’d let himself go, losing himself in her soft caresses.

  The drive to the airport should have been an hour but he was taking them on some back roads that would draw it out closer to two. Traffic made him edgier than fuck, he’d discovered, and he wanted to try to keep himself as calm as possible before having to face the airport crowds and the tight confines of the flight.

  They’d rented an SUV and he had the road to himself at the early hour. He turned the radio on low, watching Presley to see if she stirred at the sound. She didn’t bat an eye. Damn, he was really going to have to let her catch up on her sleep when they got home.

  He saw the car coming up behind them long before it got to them, but the speed it was traveling closed the distance on them fast. And then it whipped around into the lane beside him on the long stretch of near-empty road.

  James was slow to react when he saw the gun. Thought he was having a flashback or imagining shit that wasn’t there. Lord knew he did that often enough to expect it now.

  Two men, one driving, the other pointing a gun right at James. James swerved and floored it, but the shot cracked out through the silence, waking Presley. James reacted without thought, pushing her down in her seat.

  “Unbuckle and get on the floor,” he shouted as he swerved toward the car. More shots came and he felt a punch to his arm that he knew damned well meant a bullet had found its mark.

  Presley was covering her head with her arms while Lulu stood in the back seat growling and barking like she thought she could fight off the bullets herself.

  “Down, Lu!” he shouted as he tried to keep track of where the other car was and what was up ahead of them. She didn’t listen and he prayed like hell she didn’t get hit by one of the bullets.

  Then the car was pulling up beside them again and he was enraged, the anger taking over where the fear had been, turning cold dread to burning heat in an instant. No way in hell was he letting anyone hurt Presley.

  James saw the bridge ahead. He kept his foot glued to the floorboard, tearing up the road, trying to keep the man from getting up alongside of them. He didn’t want them to be able to get a clear shot. He didn’t know what the hell was going on or what these guys wanted, but if they killed him or even just incapacitated him, the SUV might crash and hurt Presley. Or worse, these men might get their hands on her. She would be defenseless.

  He had checked his firearm when they flew to Pennsylvania, declaring it and following the requirements of placing it into a hard-sided locked case. It was currently packed into that hard case in his suitcase in the back. He’d thought it was only a crutch to help him feel safer in the outside world.

  As they hit the bridge, he lifted his foot off the gas and hit the brakes, then cut the wheel to the left. There was a split second where their attacker’s gun was lined up with an open shot into his window, but then the SUV crashed into the sedan and he didn’t let up on the pressure as he ducked and felt, more than heard, a bullet hit the headrest behind him.

  The scream of the metal guardrail drowned out Presley’s cries as he held fast and prayed. They didn’t go over the side of the bridge. The guardrail was strong enough to hold. But if he held up the pressure, he could force them over the edge of the road at the other side.

  He felt the moment their car went over and he struggled to hold the wheel of the SUV steady so they wouldn’t go with their attackers.

  The silence that filled the car as he got control of it was thick.

  He thought for a brief second about turning back, getting his gun out and making the men eat it as he found out why the hell they’d come after him and who had sent them. One look at Presley and he knew he couldn’t risk it.

  He’d destroyed everyone who ever got close to him. He’d failed everyone he loved, let them all down. What he needed to do now was get Presley to safety and then get as far away from her as he could.

  30

  Neither of them spoke as he drove them away. He didn’t head toward the airport. The chances of someone waiting there for them were too great.

  James pulled over and checked his arm. He was bleeding but he’d only been grazed. He ignored the wound and pulled back onto the road.

  He didn’t know for sure, but if he had to place a bet he would put his money on this having to do with whatever it was he couldn’t remember about the battle that played at the fringes of his memory. Something had happened that night and he needed to find out what.

  Disappointment gnawed at his gut as he realized he’d just told Hunt he was remembering bits and pieces of that firefight and within hours someone had tried to kill him. To silence him.

  “Where are you going?” Presley asked, and the terror in her voice sent another spiral of self-loathing through him.

  “We’re going to go to an ATM and take out as much cash as we can.” He pulled the car over and pulled out his phone, shutting it off before putting his hand out for hers.

  She hesitated. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “Give me your phone, Pres,” he said, not answering her right away. She slipped the phone into his hands and he shut it down, then turned to look at her, hating the fear in her eyes.

  He hated worse that he saw trust in her eyes. She might have questioned him a minute ago, but he could see in her face, she believed he could get her through this.

  Fuck, he hated that. He was the last person she needed in her world.

  “We’re not getting on a plane and we can’t call the police.” Part of him wondered if he wasn’t doing the wrong thing. If maybe she was right and they needed to call the police and let them handle this. If he should turn Presley over to them and let someone else keep her safe.

  But how could he do that? He might not have memories of the night his life changed forever, but he had a gut sense about it. His gut was screaming that the person behind whatever had happened that night was powerful. It was possible Hunt was involved, but if he was, he wasn’t acting alone. It was someone bigger. And James didn’t trust that person not to have connections
inside police departments.

  He didn’t trust Presley’s safety to anyone but himself.

  He sucked in a breath and threaded his hand through her hair, knowing that soon, he wouldn’t have the right to touch her like that anymore. That he’d need to walk away and leave her. “They were after me, Presley, not you.” They might not have even seen her in the car since he’d gotten her down and she’d been smart enough to stay down.

  “What do they want?” Her voice shook when she asked the question and he saw the signs clear as day. Tears filled her eyes. She was cracking.

  He needed her to hold on long enough for her to get to safety. He tightened his hold, squeezing her neck a little. “I’m going to get you home safely, I promise you that. But we can’t fly. We need to stay under their radar. Can you trust me to get you home?”

  She nodded, tears coming faster now and he hated himself for this, hated that he’d done this to her. He’d brought hell to her doorstep.

  Now he needed to draw it away.

  They ditched the car and he made sure she understood they couldn’t make calls or use her credit cards or anything else that might lead someone to them. He got them to a Greyhound depot and bought tickets home, a trip that would now take them three days instead of hours.

  She was quiet for most of the time, only asking once or twice what the men had wanted before she must have realized he didn’t have answers.

  She was shaking when they got on the bus and he tucked her by his side as Lulu curled into the space at their feet, trained to lay quietly in cramped spaces, when needed.

  As Presley slept in his arms for the first leg of the trip, he took advantage, burying his nose in her hair and letting the scent of her seep into him. He wanted to imprint the feel of her, the smell of her, even her taste, onto his senses so he wouldn’t forget this. He needed to find a way to keep a part of her with him because he wouldn’t be able to bring her with him when he left.

  By now, Laura and Cade and probably Presley’s parents would be losing their minds with worry. They expected the two of them home earlier in the day and a call to the airline would confirm that James and Presley hadn’t made it to the plane. If the SUV was discovered, the police might alert Presley’s family that a car she’d rented had been found with bullet holes in the side and evidence of an accident along the length of it.

  He knew it was likely the men in the sedan had survived the crash. The edge he’d sent them over hadn’t been more than a short drop down to the riverbank below. But by the looks of them, they were former military. If they didn’t haul ass out of there before the cops arrived, they would keep their mouths shut.

  James closed his own eyes and focused on the flashes of memories he’d been collecting in his journal. He knew he’d seen crates of guns being moved that day. That was out of place. There was no reason he should have seen that. His unit had been sent in to the region to gather intel. It wasn’t supposed to go the way it had. They were there to confirm the presence of a cartel leader who had slipped through the hands of the military too many times to count. They wanted eyes on the man before they sent in a drone to take him out.

  Of course, he’d been told all that by Hunt when he got back. Whatever information he’d had going into that mission had been locked up in some vault in his brain he didn’t have access to.

  He opened his eyes again, not wanting to fall asleep until they were further away from the guys with the guns. His gaze landed on a booted foot sticking partially out into the aisle in front of them.

  The sight of booted feet tickled his brain again and he knew there was something there. Some connection.

  Memory flashed, a voice. The sight of boots on concrete floors. “What the fuck?” Gunshots.

  He could hear the voice. “What the fuck?”

  Then an answering. “You set this up!” This one from Silva. He’d know that voice anywhere.

  Presley stirred in his arms, sitting up and looking out the window. “Where are we?” She asked, pulling her hair free of the ponytail she’d put it in, only to straighten the strands and trap them back in the tie once more.

  “I think we passed Springfield about half an hour back.” They were traveling through Missouri.

  Lulu looked up at him, and he patted his lap, letting her stretch her front paws up onto him. “She needs to get out at the next stop and walk around a bit.”

  Presley nodded and stood. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

  He was numb when he nodded to her. He wanted to keep her next to him. The thought of her so much as walking to the back of the bus to pee was more than he could handle at the moment, but he knew he was going to have to put a lot more distance between them as soon as he got her home to Evers.

  He was torn between going to see Hunt so he could confront him and find out what the hell was going on and just heading straight for Washington, DC. Not that he knew what he’d do when he got there.

  He thought of General Cutter. He’d been a large part of the push to get James out of South America. But what could he do? Knock on the door of the Pentagon and tell the man he had memories of something bad that shouldn’t have happened but did? That he had no idea what any of those memories were or who they were connected to or what they meant but that he thought they were now putting him in danger? Oh and the one buddy who was alive from that night might be the guy who had sent people after him?

  He'd told Hunt he was having memories of the firefight, and the next day, he was shot at and damned near driven off the road.

  The whole thing was so fucked up, he didn’t know what to do. Maybe he just needed to vanish. There were sure as hell enough veterans living on the streets, he could slip into their ranks and disappear, and no one would need to think about him again.

  Presley’s hand on his shoulder, made him jump, but she smiled down at him when he turned. Not the bright smile that he’d come to love. This was small and a little sad.

  He pulled her down beside him, just wanting to keep her close a little longer.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” she said quietly.

  There were murmured conversations taking place all over the bus, but it was nighttime now and the driver had lowered the lights. Most of the people around them were asleep.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he said. “I think it has something to do with my memories. I think maybe I’m not supposed to remember what happened that night.”

  She raised a hand to cup his face, eyes burning into him. He had to look away. “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know. There might be a guy who can help me. I have to think about it.” He didn’t mention that the man who might be able to help was General Cutter. She would likely know the General was Phoebe’s father, but he didn’t want her involved in this any more than she had to be. He pulled her in, tucking her head to his shoulder. He would deal with this. “Get some sleep.”

  31

  James drove for three days after he got Presley home, stopping only for a few hours at a time to sleep on the way to Hunt’s place, and watching the building for any sign of Hunt coming or going. He watched for a few hours, but didn’t spot him.

  It was easy to slip into the building. He simply waited and followed a pair of high school girls who were more interested in giggling and talking than in who was holding the door for them and walking in behind them.

  James raised his fist and banged on the door. He and Hunt were now the only two people who’d walked into that firefight and walked out alive. Whatever the hell was going on here, he was going to finish it. Because he’d come to realize something. He wanted what Presley, Laura, and Cade had all been offering him. He wanted a life with family and people he loved around him. He wanted that with Presley. She deserved that kind of life, and he wanted to be the one to give it to her.

  His heart tightened at the thought of never seeing her again. He’d had a life, for just a short frigging time, he’d had people who loved him.

  He remembered the day Laura and Cade h
ad come to see him in the hospital. He’d already been out of South America for three weeks by then, but his family hadn’t been able to come to him. The military had him under tight security from the start. He could see on her face, she’d wanted to find her brother in that hospital bed. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her, her brother was long dead and gone. In his place was an empty shell who couldn’t love her the way she wanted him to.

  But he was starting to think that the man who’d come out of that jungle might be worth loving. Maybe they would love him as much as Laura had once loved the younger James?

  Hunt opened the door, eyes wide when he saw James standing there. Could be because he thought James would be dead. Or it could just be because he thought James would be back in Texas.

  “Can we talk?” James asked and tilted his head to indicate Hunt should follow him out into the hallway. He wanted the conversation to take place outside of Hunt’s space. He was probably being paranoid, but he didn’t trust that someone wouldn’t be listening into any conversation that happened in there.

  James led the way out to his rental car and slid into the seat while Hunt went to the passenger seat. He didn’t tell Hunt he had a gun. He hoped like hell he wouldn’t need to use it.

  “What’s going on, James?” Hunt asked the question like he was talking to a wild animal. Like he thought James had lost his mind and Hunt would need to talk him down.

  James didn’t blame him, but then again, he didn’t exactly trust him right then. It killed him to think Hunt might have been involved in whatever the hell was going on. Still, he couldn’t help but think that Hunt had tried to convince James not to bother trying to remember the firefight in the Devil’s Den. Did Hunt want James to forget for James’s sake or for some other reason?