Without Warning

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Without Warning Page 11

by Reese Knightley


  “I’ve acquired a stalker.”

  “I knew your old man’s will was going to cause trouble! I need to come home.”

  “No, you don’t. You need to stay in Paris and learn.” He smiled. August was going to be the next fashion designer sensation. “Uncle Dean hired me a bodyguard.”

  “What happened?” August had been with him through the whole Mitchell ordeal.

  “I was attacked in my parking garage.”

  “Son of a bitch,” August whispered. “Were you hurt?”

  “Knocked down, hit me over the head. But some coworkers came by and the guy ran.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  He sniffled. “Thanks.”

  “How’s your stomach handling all this?”

  “It’s not.” He rubbed his hand over his belly. “I didn’t want another bodyguard.”

  “Sweetie, Mitch’s death was a tragedy, that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”

  “I know.” His breath hitched.

  “Is the new bodyguard nice?”

  “No, he’s an ass,” he lied, wishing he wasn’t starting to like Ryder so much. It would make things easier.

  August giggled. “So, no chance he’ll be a friend?”

  “No, no chance of that.” He kept to himself the embarrassing pass he’d made toward Ryder.

  “So how’s the dating scene?”

  “After Edward?”

  “He’s a fucktard. We’re not even counting him,” August growled.

  “I’ve given up. I’m too fucking flawed to date.”

  “Screw that. I’ve told you time and again, your mom leaving doesn’t define who you are. She’s a bitch. That doesn’t make you unlovable.”

  “Let’s not bring up my mom.”

  “Okay, but she is. I should know,” August said stubbornly.

  “I know.” If anyone knew how it felt to be abandoned, it would be August. The man had been handed over by his parents to foster care at the age of five.

  “I keep picking them wrong. First Edward and someone else, but now…”

  “Maybe just once you can have a healthy relationship.”

  “Yeah,” Harrison snorted. “And I can stop taking nausea pills too.” He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Like that will ever happen.

  “Miracles have happened,” August argued, and then drew in a sharp breath. “Wait a second! You said someone else? Who were you talking about?” His friend’s voice rose a notch.

  “You know how when you get that instant attraction to someone? Like the spark to end all sparks?”

  “Of course!”

  “Well, I’ve got it for somebody who wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Oh, honey.”

  Harrison pulled at his lip and stayed silent.

  “You know what? Screw them then. You’re hot, smart, and sweet. There’s plenty of men that would kill to go out with you. You just have to believe it.”

  Really? Then where the hell are they? He sighed. It was the same old thing that August told him almost every time they talked.

  “I know,” he lied.

  “Really? Because from where I’m sitting, you don’t sound too sure.”

  “I love you.” He wiped at his eyes and his voice wobbled.

  “I love you too.”

  There was a long moment and then August spoke. “Quit picking shallow men. If they can’t see that you’re a nice and decent guy, then that’s on them, not you.”

  “Okay.” He rolled onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling.

  “Just kick anyone to the curb that isn’t worthy.”

  “Okay,” he said, then smiled.

  “I mean it!”

  “I will.”

  Ryder

  Harrison wanted to kick him out. Oh, not out of a job, but out of his apartment.

  Monday morning rolled around and the guy was pacing back and forth in his living room.

  He knew it stemmed from what had happened Saturday in the weight room, but he’d seen the hero worship in the younger man’s eyes and needed to nip that in the bud. And ending Harrison’s flirting had worked far too well.

  “I just don’t think you need to actually stay here any longer,” Harrison said as he paced. “I mean, it’s been two weeks and nothing has happened.”

  “You received another letter in the mail,” he returned.

  “I mean physically.” Harrison squinted.

  “What if you need me and I’m not here?” Ryder crossed his arms.

  “Can’t your friend sit in the hall?”

  “If that’s what you really want,” he said abruptly.

  “No,” Harrison sighed. “Never mind.”

  “I can call him.”

  “No!” Harrison threw up his hands. “I don’t want you to call him. Just forget I said anything.”

  “Okay.”

  Harrison continued to pace. “How long though?”

  “I should at least stay for a while,” he responded carefully. “Then you can switch to days only if you want.”

  “I can?”

  “Yes.” He shouldn’t be making such a big deal out of it, but for some reason, the thought of leaving Harrison on his own at night didn’t sit well. Which was crazy, he’d be right outside the door.

  “I guess. Is that what you usually do?” The man’s lips pursed in thought.

  “It varies per job. Sometimes, I stay twenty-four seven like with you. Others, I’ll only guard during the day, some only at night; it depends on the situation. Especially in your case.”

  “Case?”

  “Your camera system being upgraded and now the delay.”

  “Oh, that makes sense,” came the soft reply.

  “It’s ultimately your call. You’re the client. If you want Jaxon in the hallway, I can arrange it.” Ryder turned away and moved to stand at the window. For some reason, it irked him that Harrison wanted him out of the apartment.

  “No, I don’t want that,” Harrison said softly and some of Ryder’s tension eased.

  The rain was at it again, sending water dripping down the window pane and grey and white clouds hovering over the wet city and mountains.

  Harrison’s phone buzzed on the counter.

  “Hello? Oh hey, Toby.” Harrison’s voice changed and became friendly.

  The weather outside faded. Ryder scowled and spun back to the room.

  “What? No, I’m coming in with Ryder. Don’t bother…” Harrison’s voice trailed off and he shook his head and hung up the phone.

  “Problems?”

  Harrison lifted his gaze from the phone. “No. Just people being dramatic.”

  Ryder doubted it, but held his tongue.

  Harrison’s phone buzzed again and he answered the call. “Good morning, Brian, problems? Are you serious? Okay. No. Ryder and I will be there in a few minutes. No, that’s not necessary.” Harrison rang off with a frown.

  “What happened?”

  “One of the overnight technicians had their car broken into. With the system down for the upgrade, we only have Brian and his security team on guard.”

  “Looks like the six security guards he has isn’t going to be enough.”

  “Looks like it.”

  Harrison pulled on his bottom lip. The phone buzzed with another incoming call, but Harrison didn’t answer it.

  “Ready to go?” Ryder said after a few moments of silence.

  “Yeah. Shelby sent a text. He wants me to ride into work with him.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it until your stalker is apprehended,” he said quickly, having given up trying to once again remind Harrison that anyone could be his potential stalker, even Shelby.

  “Why not? I’ve been dodging him and I need to defuse a situation. Shelby wants me to fire Toby but can’t give me any substantial reason. I’ll only ride with him this morning.”

  Shelby wants Toby out of the picture? Interesting.

  Ryder fired off a text to Logan with the information and then gla
nced at Harrison. “No. Handle the situation at your office, not in his car. You only ride with me.”

  “Yes, sir!” Harrison snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

  “Come on.” He smirked, a bit surprised there hadn’t been a bigger argument.

  Harrison darted him a quick smile and Ryder turned swiftly away. Tugging open the door, he locked it and hurried Harrison into the elevator. Just as they entered the hallway to the parking garage, Harrison’s phone rang again.

  “Hey, no. I have a ride. We can meet in my office to discuss it.” Harrison hung up the phone and it immediately buzzed again.

  “Have you thought about telling them not to call you until you’re at work?” Ryder asked, holding the door open.

  “Yeah, I’ve told them.” Harrison wrinkled his nose.

  “They call you every single day before you even get into the office,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Harrison had zero fucking privacy. If the entourage wasn’t tracking him down at work, they were constantly calling his cell phone.

  Ryder hit the fob of his jeep to unlock it and tucked Harrison into the passenger seat.

  “Buckle up,” he ordered, getting behind the wheel.

  “Yes sir! As you’ve ordered me every single day,” the smart aleck said from the passenger side and buckled his belt.

  “It is the law.” He frowned, pulling out of the parking space and heading down the steep ramp of the parking structure.

  “And apparently your law.”

  Ryder snorted. “It’s the law period.”

  “I know what the law is.” Harrison gave an annoyed sounding sigh.

  Ryder pressed on the brake when they came to the first curve and the pedal went to the floor. Gripping the wheel, his knuckles turned white as tires squealed around the next curve in the garage and the jeep picked up speed.

  “Hey, aren’t we going kind of fast?”

  “Hang on to something!”

  Ryder had two choices. Ram something now or take it to the streets with even more speed and traffic.

  “Hold on, Harrison! Hold on and close your eyes,” he barked out the order and jerked the wheel, forcing the jeep up against several large SUVs parked on level three.

  The vehicle slammed sideways, and a loud crunch boomed through the windows before glass shattered. They came to a screeching halt with his jeep wedged in between two bigger vehicles. The airbags deployed and punched them.

  Carefully, he drew his knife and stabbed at both his and Harrison’s airbags. Flipping his belt off, he reached across the center divider for the back of Harrison’s head and closed his hand gently around his neck.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Harrison darted him a sideways glance, his voice shaking. Ryder briefly swept his eyes over his face.

  “I want you to keep your head down for a minute,” he warned and carefully applied pressure. Harrison’s head went down between his knees.

  With his free hand, Ryder pulled his gun from his holster. The parking garage appeared deserted. After the noise of the crash, all he could hear was Harrison’s ragged breathing along with tinkling glass and groaning metal.

  Checking all sides of the area, he eased up on the back of Harrison’s head.

  Harrison slowly sat up and gazed wildly around before locking those wide blue eyes on him.

  “We’re climbing out the back. I go first, you stay behind me.” Ryder reached again and gently squeezed the back of Harrison’s neck and waited for a nod before he released the man.

  Tucking his gun away, Ryder wedged between the front seats until he could get his big body into the back seat. Once he’d maneuvered into the far back, he shoved his boot against the back door and hit the fob to get the automatic back door of the Jeep Wrangler to swing wide.

  Climbing out, he glanced around and then reached back to help Harrison from the vehicle. Harrison slipped his arms around his neck and Ryder held on until Harrison’s feet were on the ground.

  He wanted to fucking shoot something when he felt Harrison shaking like a leaf.

  “Oh my god!”

  The voice and the sound of running brought his hand to the gun in his arm holster, but a young woman and man came jogging down the parking garage toward them.

  “You guys okay?” the guy hollered, approaching them.

  Ryder tightened his arm, keeping Harrison’s trembling body close.

  “Call 911, please.”

  The urge to annihilate something wasn’t going away. Harrison’s hand shook around the small cup of water the officer had given him. When the water threatened to slosh over the side, Ryder was the first there to close a hand around the younger man’s cold fingers.

  “So, you have no idea of who might have cut the brakes on Mr. Freeman’s vehicle?” the cop inquired for the third time.

  “No,” Harrison said softly before taking a sip of water.

  “He’s told you that twice already,” he snapped.

  Ryder flexed and stepped closer and the cop tossed him a hasty look before nodding and writing something in his book.

  “Did you see anything suspicious before you got into the car?”

  Ryder gnashed his teeth and flexed his hands at another repeated question. He didn’t see the unmarked car pull up until a familiar voice spoke.

  “Officer?”

  “Yes?” The cop turned.

  “I’ve got this,” Carson said, making his way over and flashing his detective badge.

  Harrison held out his hand to Ryder and he reached for it immediately. He closed his hand and pulled the young man up and out of the passenger side of the patrol car. He took the empty water cup and tossed it in the nearby trash.

  “I’m feeling better.” Harrison smiled at the cop who’d let him use his front seat for the past half hour. Ryder wasn’t taking any chances, he fucking hovered. He wasn’t going to risk Harrison falling.

  Carson jerked his head and Ryder urged Harrison over to the detective’s car with a hand against the small of his back. He tucked Harrison into the back seat and then got into the passenger front seat and turned so he could see Harrison. Carson slid behind the wheel.

  “This is a hell of a thing,” Carson muttered.

  “How are you feeling?” He ignored Carson for the moment and asked Harrison for the dozenth time.

  “I’m fine,” came the too soft reply.

  “I still think we should make a trip to the ER.”

  “No.” Harrison’s lips twisted. “You got us stopped in time. I’m not hurt.” The man’s voice trembled.

  Ryder clenched his jaw and slanted a look at Carson.

  “Harrison, did anyone contact you this morning offering you a ride to work?”

  “Yes. I was supposed to ride in with Shelby. Um, Toby called and offered me a ride, and so did my head of security, Brian.”

  Carson, with his trusty pen and paper, wrote everything down.

  “Any other leads?” Ryder asked.

  “Unfortunately, no. I’ll check these out,” Carson replied.

  “What about Crane?” he growled.

  “Edward Crane’s alibi checked out.”

  The leather of the seat back groaned beneath his tight grip.

  Harrison’s soft fingers suddenly stroked across his own, sending his heart into overdrive.

  Ryder pulled his hand free, ignoring the sad tilt of Harrison’s full, pink lips.

  Fuck.

  Harrison

  Ryder’s jeep was in impound with the detectives and CSI combing over it. So far, they found nothing, as whoever had cut the brake line hadn’t left behind any fingerprints.

  Slipping on his suit jacket, he stepped out of his room two days later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. It startled him so much so that he juggled his briefcase and had to save it from dropping.

  Reaching the entry to the living room, he spotted Ryder. Usually, they waited to have coffee until they reached the office, so it threw him to find the guy stan
ding in the kitchen working the coffee pot.

  Stop learning the guy’s habits, he doesn’t want you, he scolded himself. It was just sometimes, he thought that Ryder did want him. Sometimes, he caught the man looking at him with an expression he thought was longing.

  Yet he must have been wrong, because Ryder fluctuated between ignoring him to mocking him and back again.

  It brought out his own temper and a swift exchange of words that usually resulted in an argument.

  Which, now that he thought about it, was better than being treated like just another client. He hated that. When Ryder treated him coolly, it hurt. He knew why, or at least he thought he did. It was Ryder’s way of keeping a professional distance between them.

  He stayed where he was, pausing to look his fill. Dressed in a white dress shirt and perfectly tailored black slacks, Ryder was a walking dream. Gone were the blue jeans and t-shirt, and in its place was sexy business attire. Harrison actually missed the leather jacket.

  “Going to stand there in the hallway all day or do you want a cup?”

  He hastened forward and flushed beneath Ryder’s amused look. The man took a sip of coffee and his strong throat bobbed when he swallowed.

  Harrison glanced away and set his briefcase down with a thunk on the stool. Heading around the island, he selected a cup from the cupboard.

  “We haven’t used it before. I honestly didn’t know it worked,” he admitted and eagerly poured coffee into the cup.

  “You have a coffee maker in your own home and you don’t even know if it works?” Ryder said. His tone was either incredulous or derisive, Harrison wasn’t sure.

  “No,” he said more than a bit defensively.

  “God forbid you slow down long enough to make a pot of coffee,” Ryder said, and this time, he was sure the man’s tone held derision. Ryder wore a smirk that made him want to slug the man most of the time. Most of the time seemed to be the key phrase, because there were times—his dick’s desires aside—when he’d actually liked the gruffly spoken bodyguard.

  Not at this moment, that’s for sure!

  “I like coffee shops!” Did the guy even remember that?

  Ryder grunted, and Harrison’s glare was wasted when the man disappeared down the hallway that led to the guest rooms.

 

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