“I understand.” Troy sucked in his cheeks and nodded his head.
“I hope I don’t have to impress on you how extremely dangerous this man is,” O’Brien added, turning his gaze toward Bethany. “He has no regard for human life. Don’t take any risks, Miss Reed. You could be putting both yours and Agent Troy’s life in jeopardy if you step out of line. Return to your life as Mr. and Mrs. Hansen. Embrace your cover and wait for news.”
Bethany sat dead still. She stared past O’Brien’s head and through the glass windows into the busy epicenter of the FBI. Her hazel eyes were round as dish plates. She’d bunched the end of her scarf in her hands, her knuckles white. The only sign that she’d heard anything at all was the slight tremor of her chin.
“I’ll take care of her, sir,” Troy said, placing a hand on her arm. She twitched under his touch, as if he’d shocked her. “You can count on me.”
“I know I can.” O’Brien stood up and tightened his tie. “I’ll keep in contact.”
He nodded his understanding as his boss exited the room. It didn’t matter that his bodyguard job was still ongoing or that he was going to return to that odd little suburban existence. What mattered in that moment was how Bethany was handling the news.
“Are you okay?” He gently squeezed her arm, unsure how to snap her out of her trance.
She turned her large eyes toward him and drew a ragged breath. “No, I’m not okay. How could you ask that?”
He grimaced against the mental bashing he was giving himself. Of course she wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t even have asked.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you, Bethany. I promise.”
If there was one thing he could guarantee, it was that Void’s men would have to take him down before they got to her. She didn’t deserve any of this. Sure, she acted a little crazy at times and was unreasonably stubborn at others, but she was a genuinely good person who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Troy wished he could scoop her up in his arms and make all the bad go away. It was a strange feeling, one that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He’d defend her with his life. Of that, he was sure. And then, when this was all over, she could return to her life. Safe, sound, and far away from him.
“You can’t protect me.” Tears appeared in the corner of Bethany’s eyes. She blinked them back and clasped at her charm necklace. “No one can. I’m going to die.”
He shook his head and leaned in until only inches separated them. His gaze pierced hers. “I won’t let that happen.”
“I told you, it’s no good.” She took another ragged breath and then slowly let it out. “I’m bad luck, Troy. I’ve always been bad luck. And if you’re not careful, I’m going to take you down with me.”
Chapter Eleven
Bethany
Bethany knew Troy couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t stand in the way against fate—not with bad luck waiting to drag her down. This was a culmination of years of her mother warning her that she’d been born under an unlucky star. It was her chickens coming home to roost. The moment when the universe finally decided to snuff her out, like the pathetic little human she was.
She hardly remembered Troy guiding her back to the sedan. Her head was in such a fog that she could barely put one foot in front of the other. He’d taken her arm, supported her through the parking garage, and into her seat. He’d even carried Samson without complaint as the silly cat hissed and spat his displeasure at being locked up.
Still silent, Troy pulled the vehicle out of the parking garage and turned onto a busy road. Every now and then he’d glance over at her. She could feel his gaze on her face and the hesitation in his mannerisms. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Was he getting ready to cut and run? She wouldn’t blame him. Two people were already dead.
“For the record, that explosion might have been caused by a gas leak or it might have been set by Void’s men,” Troy said finally. He cleared his throat and glared out the windshield at oncoming traffic. “It had nothing to do with you. You’re not bad luck. I think it’s time you stopped believing that crock of bologna.”
Bethany forced out a laugh. He had no idea. No idea what it was like to be her. To always reach for what you wanted, to feel it within your grasp, and then have the universe yank it out of reach. Time and time again. If that wasn’t bad luck, she didn’t know what was.
“It’s only a matter of time,” she replied sourly. “You can’t stop it.”
“Yes, I can.” Frustration appeared in the deep lines on his forehead. “And I will. I told you, I don’t believe in this bad luck stuff.”
She shook her ponytail and turned her eyes toward the ceiling of the car. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a little skeptical. Even you”—she gestured wildly at him—“with all of your muscles and guns and crazy self-assuredness, even you can’t help me. I think you’d be better off asking for a reassignment. Save yourself while you still can.”
He threw her another frustrated look and opened his mouth to say something. There was a screeching of tires up ahead, which pulled his attention back to the road. The cars in front of them swerved. He swore and yanked the wheel to turn, but it was too late. Their sedan drove right over the wooden debris that lay scattered over the asphalt.
It only took a few more seconds for the car to start jerking. Troy pulled off to the side of the road and popped out to investigate. Bethany remained in her seat, wringing her hands together and trying not to think about the poor soul who had died last night in that explosion. She didn’t even know his name. When Troy finally came back, there was a fresh sheen of sweat on his forehead and a growl in his voice.
“We must’ve driven over a nail,” he said, jumping back into the driver’s seat. “There’s a spare in the back, but we punctured both driver’s side tires. We’re stuck here until AAA can come, but they’re backlogged today. It could be hours before they get here.”
Bethany’s eyes widened. More bad luck. She might as well have it tattooed on her forehead. She clasped a hand over her lips, trying to hold back the sour laughter that bubbled up from deep inside. Troy threw her a disgruntled expression, his lips pursing in displeasure.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, finally letting the laughter loose. At this point, all that was left to do was either cry or laugh. She threw her head back and shook her head at the sky. “I’m bad luck. The worst. This just proves it.”
“This doesn’t prove anything.” Troy crossed his arms tightly over his t-shirt, his biceps bulging. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Hmm, okay.” She smirked at him. “Whatever you say.”
Silence fell on the sedan. Bethany drummed her fingernails on the center console, feeling a mixture of hilarity and grief consume her from the inside out. Her situation shouldn’t be funny, but for some reason, she couldn’t stop the silent giggles wracking her chest. Her mother had been right. She’d always been right.
“You know what? I’m going to prove to you that you’re wrong.” Troy threw his door open and rounded the vehicle. He yanked her side open and offered a hand as she stared at him. “Come on. We’re going to do this.”
“Do what?” She glanced at his hand waiting for hers.
“Remember that park we passed a mile back?” Humor glinted in his blue-green eyes. “There’s a carnival going on. That means dozens of games with cheap prizes for you to win. We’re about to put your luck to the test.”
An unbidden smile worked its way onto her face. He was kind of crazy, but she liked it. With a nod, she placed her hand in his. Warmth spread up her arm and into her face. She tried to shake it off, reminding herself that not much longer than an hour ago he’d apologized for kissing her. It was obvious he didn’t feel anything more for her than he would any other witness in the protection program. She couldn’t let the spark she felt between them go to her head. Falling for a man like him would only lead to heartache.
She hopped out of the car with his
assistance and watched as he pulled the cat carrier from the back seat. Samson must’ve been napping because he awoke with a furry vengeance, hissing and clawing at the door.
“I suppose we can’t forget the demon cat,” Troy said with a smirk, holding the carrier as far away from his body as he could manage. “I have a feeling he’s contemplating my murder.”
“Samson doesn’t hate you.” Bethany leaned down to coo into the cage and was rewarded with a shrill meow. “He just has to warm up to people. He’ll find out soon enough that you’re one of the best guys we know.”
She looked up to see Troy watching her closely, the spot between his eyebrows wrinkled in thought. A smile tugged at his lips for the briefest of moments and Bethany felt a jolt in her stomach.
Just like that, she’d let her guard down again. Allowed that spark to affect her. She needed to get a grip. But then the smile was gone from Troy’s face and he’d stepped onto the curb, in the direction of the park.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said over his shoulder. Bethany scrambled to catch up with him. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
Troy paid for their tickets into the carnival and then purchased a strand of tickets three feet long. Kids pushed past them as he and Bethany considered which game to try first. Carnival music tinkled through large speakers set around the park. The smell of freshly fried funnel cakes and spun cotton candy swirled around them. Bethany inhaled deeply, taking in all the smells and the sounds. This place was pure, unadulterated joy.
“The wheel,” Troy said suddenly, pointing to a booth in the distance. “You’re going to try the wheel first.”
Bethany squinted in the direction he was pointing. A large spinning wheel had been set up with various prizes listed on it, ranging from a free ticket all the way up to a hundred dollar bill. There were only two spots with no prizes—each labeled LOSER in neon green paint. It was practically impossible to lose. Kids were taking turns spinning the massive wheel and collecting their prizes while a carnie called out to passing customers.
“All right, ye of little faith.” Bethany took the strand of tickets and tossed her ponytail. “Watch and learn.”
She marched straight up to the worker and handed him two tickets. When it was her turn, she made sure Troy was watching, and then she took a solid grasp of the side of the wheel. With a yank, the thing began to spin, making clicking noises as the arrow pointing at the wheel slid over the metal grooves. Around and around it went, like a cheap knock-off of the Wheel of Fortune game show. Bethany stood back as it began to slow. With a final, slow descent, the arrow landed solidly on LOSER.
“Ha! I told you.” Bethany spun around, pointing her finger at Troy. He had a disgruntled expression on his face, his shoulders tensed. “Do you believe me yet?”
“Try again.” He marched toward her, tore two more tickets off the strand and shoved them into the worker’s hands. “You’re going to spin again.”
“Sir, you have to wait in line,” the worker whined. The acne on his chin and the shaggy length of his hair were all indicators that he couldn’t have been more than nineteen years old. He gestured at the kids waiting to spin. “She’s already had her turn.”
“She’s going to spin again,” Troy growled, stepping closer so that he towered over the kid. “It’ll only take a minute.”
The kid ducked and held up his hands in defeat. Bethany glanced around the booth, her cheeks reddening. Was Troy seriously going to put her through this? How much more did she need to do to prove it to him?
“Spin.” He sat the cat carrier on the ground and then crossed his massive arms. His jaw twitched with impatience and he looked ready to throw down the next person who crossed his path. It was a maddeningly sexy pose that made her feel like giggling like a little girl. “Try again,” he insisted.
With a sigh, Bethany reached up and gave a great big tug on the wheel. It spun faster this time, making her dizzy as she watched it turn. Finally, with a few last clicks, the wheel stopped firmly on LOSER once again.
“Told you.” She shrugged, not altogether too surprised. This was a sign from the universe. “It’s no use.”
“Try one last time.” Troy’s eyes flashed as he held out two more tickets to the cringing teenager. “And this time, make it count.”
She rolled her eyes. Try as he might, Troy was not going to outwit her problems. Or out-spin them. It was a losing battle. Still, with a mighty tug, she spun the wheel one last time.
A loud crack ripped through the park. The large wheel tilted on its stand as kids scrambled back for safety. Still spinning, it flew off its axis and landed on the ground, heading in the direction of the goldfish booth. People screamed as they jumped out of the way. With a glass-shattering crash, its journey finally ended on top of the dozens of jars of goldfish waiting for some lucky winner to take them home in a plastic bag.
“Impossible.” Troy breathed out the word with horror. He snapped his jaw shut and then swallowed.
She sighed. It could’ve been worse. At least she hadn’t ended up beneath the wheel of terror herself. A trip to the hospital was not on her list of things to do today.
“We’re not done here.” Troy shoved the strand of tickets into her hand, plucked Samson’s cat carrier from the ground, and then marched off toward the next booth. He paused to look over his shoulder when he noticed she wasn’t following. “What are you waiting for?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. She’d never met anyone more stubborn or more bullheaded than Agent Troy. It was a trait she found oddly sexy. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but be attracted to him. It was sweet of him to try and convince her she wasn’t a walking plague on this Earth. Too bad it wouldn’t work.
“Lead the way,” she said, leaving the teenaged worker to deal with the carnage of the wheel disaster.
Two corn dogs, a deep fried Oreo, a stick of cotton candy, and ten games later, Troy had officially called it quits. She’d lost every game. In his frustration, he’d tried his hand at the ring toss to prove to her that it wasn’t just her bad luck. The game was impossible to win. He’d won. Bethany tried not to look too smug as she hugged the stuffed purple monkey he’d given her.
“Can we go home now?” She looked hopefully up at him. What she needed in that moment was a cold drink and a hot bath in their house’s massive whirlpool tub. She’d wash away the disappointments of today like suds down the drain.
“Sure.” Troy rubbed a hand over the top of his head, his shoulders drooping with weariness and defeat.
Bethany wanted to grab his hand. She wanted to tell him she was wrong. That he could keep her safe. But to do so would be a lie. She couldn’t lie to him and she couldn’t lie to herself. Not anymore.
Up until now, she’d been sure that justice would prevail. That Gerald Void and his cronies would get what they had coming to them. But the informant’s death had popped the balloon of her naivety.
That explosion couldn’t have been an accident. Bethany was convinced deep in her gut that Void’s men had managed to track down the FBI informant and blow up his house. Take him out of the picture. All to cover up their crimes.
If they were able to do that, there was no telling how soon they’d find her. Troy might as well have been trying to hold back the tide from reaching the beach. She’d follow his direction from here on out. Let him guard her the way he wanted to, but she knew deep down that all of this was useless.
Her days were numbered.
Chapter Twelve
Troy
Troy was doing his best not to go crazy. He’d been stuck in this house for two weeks now, with no sign of ever leaving. Agent O’Brien was checking in less and less. His sources were going silent. It was as if the FBI had forgotten about him and his witness protection detail.
But that wasn’t the part driving him mad. It was the fact that he couldn’t make things right for Bethany. Ever since they’d come back from the carnival, she’d settled in like the perfect asset. There were no more embarra
ssing dinners. No more making up stories about their history together to enthrall the neighbors.
Bethany had embraced her time in suburbia with him as best she could. She made them both scrambled eggs and hash browns every morning. Brewed the coffee strong, just the way he liked it. Left the newspaper on the counter open to his favorite sections. Took Samson to the backyard to stretch his legs. Did her yoga. Checked her voicemail for news of her mother. Watched her daytime TV. Took a bath and went to bed.
It was a routine that had begun to dull the sparkle in her eye. Troy hated it. He wanted to see that spunk return. He wanted the same woman who had mercilessly tried to force him to give up. Not this death-row version of the woman who no longer had a reason to get up every morning.
That was why, when the doorbell rang on Saturday morning, Troy didn’t even flinch. He gazed up over the sport’s section of the newspaper at Bethany sitting across from him and motioned toward the door. “That’s for you.”
She had her glass of orange juice halfway to her lips. Her hair fell in soft, touchable waves down the sides of her face that morning. Troy had the strangest desire to reach out and run his fingers through them. Instead, he clutched tighter to the newspaper and willed himself to get a grip.
With a curious expression, she slowly set her orange juice back down. “What do you mean?”
A hint of a smile played on Troy’s lips. “Answer it and you’ll see.”
She slid off her chair and went to the door. Even from his spot in the dining room, Troy could hear their neighbors, Angelica and Olivia, burst out into ridiculously loud greetings when the door opened. He’d recruited them yesterday evening when Bethany was taking her nightly bath. Anything to get her out of her routine.
Faking Ever After with the Bodyguard: A Sweet Fake Romance Page 8