The Protector

by HelenKay Dimon

  “As if it’s hard to tell what’s happening between you two.” Trevor pulled out a gun and held it. Checked the chamber then did it again.

  Yeah, there it was. Trevor wanted to talk relationships but he was pretending otherwise. That stood in sharp contrast to Damon who had never even confirmed they were in a relationship. For all she knew he considered her a pal and thought the sex, the sleeping together every night, meant nothing.

  “It’s a fake relationship.” It actually scratched her throat a bit to say the words this time.

  Trevor kept working with the weapon. Handled it like the pro he was. “Is that still the case?”

  Good freaking question. Not that she was ready to admit that to him.

  “You’re kind of nosy. Is this a new thing?” She felt like she should have had a warning about that if so.

  Next, he removed the Glock and put that on the table next to the other gun he’d pulled out. “I make it my business to check on Damon.”

  That sounded serious. As if they were headed for the kind of talk that would have both of them squirming. “He must hate that.”

  “As if he knows. Please.” Trevor snorted as he grabbed the separate boxes of bullets. “I am way more subtle than that.”

  “That is not a word I would use to describe you.” In many ways he reminded her of Damon. In some very significant ways, he didn’t. They handled problems differently. Trevor avoided the gruff side of the personality that Damon sometimes showed. Those blips in his temper. So far, she’d only seen Trevor as calm.

  “Aaron says that, too.” Trevor scoffed as if everyone else was the problem. “None of you understand me.”

  “Uh-huh.” But that brought her back to a topic that had been filling her brain. “Does Aaron know you’re here?”

  Trevor frowned. “On the shooting range?”

  “In Pennsylvania. On this assignment.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course.”

  Of course. As if he would never keep a secret from the man he was in love with. She had to wonder if that was really true. “There’s no top secret, need-to-know thing happening with this assignment?”

  Trevor kept up the fiddling with the weapons and bullets. “I think you’re watching too much television.”

  “I’m just wondering if . . .” How did she ask something so personal? She wanted to know how they managed their relationship. How much truth and trust was involved? Things that were totally not her business.

  She had reasons to ask, sure. She’d started sleeping with Damon without thinking any of this through. The danger and worry. But now she felt it. That meant it would always be there but would likely be so much more intense if he were away from her.

  She didn’t even know if she was supposed to slip into some new role. She also wondered if whatever they had would immediately snap off the second they resolved Shauna’s case.

  Trevor stood there with wide eyes and a bit of amusement on his face. “What are you trying to ask?”

  He had to be making this hard on purpose. “You know.”

  “I actually don’t.”

  Fine. “Seeing someone who does your type of work—”

  “Seeing?”

  “Come on. You are purposely making this conversation difficult.”

  He laughed. “Now I am, yes.”

  She thought about aiming one of the many empty weapons sitting around at him. Just because. “Want to tell me why?”

  The amusement faded from Trevor’s face. He leaned against the table with his feet stretched out in front of him. “Damon has been dealt a shitty hand. So many things happened to him that were out of his control. And being locked up? That’s the ultimate shitty hand.”

  She agreed. They saw him the same way. As someone who got roped into a lot of other people’s messes. But none of that explained why they were engaged in verbal somersaults. “So? Or if you prefer, therefore . . . ?”

  “He doesn’t open up, Cate. He lives alone, limits his social life and insists that’s all he gets. All he deserves.” Trevor glanced down at his hands before looking up again. “That’s the part that’s always frustrated me. Here we are, the five of us plus Garrett now, all with our varied difficult backgrounds, but Damon thinks he’s the only one who hasn’t earned any sort of calm.”

  Something in his tone caught her attention. She knew about Quint and the five friends. Not enough, but some. The men meant everything to Damon. He’d made that much clear. In many ways, they rescued him. But for the first time she thought about how they’d all needed support. That while Damon was getting help, he was helping right back. Something he seemed to be convinced he was incapable of doing these days. “Was it that bad for all of you?”

  “You don’t end up desperate and on the verge of destruction without something life-defining happening to you.” Trevor rubbed his palm with the thumb from his other hand in what was starting to look like his nervous gesture. “But that’s the point. We’d all been through the worst but only he decided he hadn’t paid enough. Sure, we were all self-destructive but for Damon it wasn’t even that. The penance never stops. He thinks he needs to pay forever. That he doesn’t get real happiness.”

  This was another way of talking about Damon’s view that he was an island. That no one could get in. All of these issues led her to the same place. But Trevor’s tone, fair but concerned, took her to a different question. “Are you worried I’m going to hurt him?”

  Trevor’s hands dropped to his sides. “I’m stunned he’s giving you the chance to potentially do that.”

  The words moved through her, leaving a warm sensation behind. With all the talk of shutting down, he’d actually opened up to her. She ran through the family stories and tiny pieces he’d dropped. Then it hit her. He talked about not letting anyone in, but she was already there.

  Trevor shook his head but he looked the exact opposite of upset. “You should see your face.”

  She tried to swallow her smile. “What?”

  “You like it.”

  Why fight it? He knew. She knew. Heck, Damon probably knew. “That I might matter to him? Yeah, Trevor. That doesn’t suck.”

  “Now that is interesting.”

  These guys and their cryptic talk. It annoyed her even as it kept her guessing. “What?”

  “That you want to matter. What with you being a fake girlfriend and all.”

  She started to say something when she heard a sharp ping. This part of the property was more secluded. No one lived over here. They kept it roped off for safety purposes. Even the weapons and ammunition supply lockers stayed locked up . . . supposedly.

  When she heard the second ping, she grabbed Trevor’s arm, catching him off balance and dragging him down to the ground with her. She waited for the hard ground to smash into her face but it never happened. When she opened her eyes, the world spun around her. Through some tricky maneuver of his, she’d landed on him. Now he shifted her underneath him. Every step, using his body as a shield without thinking twice.

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “Now that we’re down here, can you answer one question—why?”

  She strained to hear something. Except for a light wind that rustled the leaves of the trees, she couldn’t pick up anything. “I thought . . .”

  He stared down at her from their tangle on the floor.

  She finally kicked the word out. “Shot.”

  “We’re on a shooting range.”

  She hated that he sounded so logical while her voice bobbled and her stomach twirled. “Alone.”

  He frowned. “Someone taking a shot at you out in the open would be a pretty bold move.”

  He was right. Coming under fire here, now, didn’t make sense. “I really thought someone was shooting at us.”

  His eyes narrowed for a second before he nodded. “Then let’s be careful.”

  He slid his hand along the edge of the table and grabbed the gun. She didn’t see what type it was. He brought it down to his lap and pocketed it. He loaded it while he wa
tched their surroundings. He didn’t move but his gaze kept shifting.

  The woods were quiet. No gunfire or approaching footsteps. She instinctively knew that didn’t mean anything. Someone could lie in wait out there, but she was beginning to doubt her hearing.

  “I’m getting sick of feeling so vulnerable.” She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. Before she could explain, a whistle sounded and she spun around to find the source. Without thinking, she reached for the other gun Trevor had set out.

  He caught her hand right before it touched the metal. “We’re okay.”

  She felt like a deer standing on the highway in the middle of rush hour traffic. “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s Damon.”

  They recognized each other by whistle? Well, of course they did. They had skills and secret calls she didn’t even understand, including this one.

  The rustling started again. Ten feet away from the sound she spotted a blur of blue. That’s when she figured out the sound was some sort of subterfuge. Trevor didn’t panic or take aim as the streak ran across to them. The loud footsteps came first then his face, that amazing face, came into view.

  He ducked down at the last moment, bringing his body even with theirs on the ground as he slid. He knocked into the side of her but not hard. An arm wrapped around her as he nodded to Trevor. That touch, almost nothing compared to all the others, calmed her. Some of the tension eased out of her neck and the tumbling sensation in her stomach stopped.

  “What exactly are we doing?” Damon asked without taking his gaze away from the green field in front of him.

  “Honestly?” Trevor winced. “Nothing.”

  She bit her bottom lip, trying to separate out the panic screaming in her head from the reality in front of her. “I thought someone shot at us, but it’s pretty clear I was wrong.”

  Damon blew out a long breath. “For the record, that is not the way I intended to spend my Tuesday.”

  Trevor frowned. “I thought it was Thursday.”

  “Whatever.” Damon leaned in closer to her. “You okay?”

  “Spooked.” There was no other word to describe it. She sat crouched on a cement pad outside a shooting range on what was, in effect, a large estate. This was not an everyday occurrence for her.

  “That’s the right response,” Damon said.

  It didn’t feel right. Her eyesight blurred and she was pretty sure if she opened her mouth too wide her heart would pound right out of there. “I wish I were like you.”

  “Annoying?” Trevor asked from over to their side.

  “The whole thing where you don’t feel anything.” Even though she didn’t believe it, she’d love to adopt that skill right now.

  Trevor laughed as he looked at Damon. “Are you not feeling anything right now? Because, honestly, you look ready to wet yourself.”

  “You’re lucky you were helpful today,” Damon shot back. “Since we’re sitting around waiting to possibly get shot at, probably for no reason, go ahead and tell us what you’re hearing from the regulars.”

  “The gossip is still about you being Steven’s son.” Trevor shook his head and continued to look amused. “Then there’s the other thing.”

  “Is this about me?” Because she was already sick of being gossip fodder.

  “That you two are sleeping together. That’s not gossip. People totally buy the fake relationship cover . . . if that’s what we’re still calling it.” Trevor shook his head. “No, some folks think Damon started the fire. Getting back at Daddy and all that.”

  Damon lowered his gun and stared at Trevor. “I’m not ten.”

  Trevor snorted. “The response to that is too easy.”

  As much as she enjoyed the boy banter, and right now she really didn’t, she wanted to leave this area. “I know you two think I’m hearing things.”

  “This is a shooting range,” Damon said, basically repeating Trevor’s response to her.

  They both missed the most obvious point. “We’re the only ones here and I don’t think Trevor tried to shoot me.”

  Damon frowned at her. “The other range.”

  She froze. “What?”

  “This is the lower range.” Damon spoke slowly, as if he sensed she was too far gone to understand him otherwise. “There’s a smaller off to the left of this one.”

  Well, that was annoying. But since she was the one who had them all ducking and hiding, she couldn’t exactly fight with Damon on this point.

  Trevor glanced at his watch again. “It’s been seven minutes and no other noises, so I think we’re clear.” Without another word, Trevor stood up and the world remained quiet. “Seems like we might be okay.”

  She stood up next to him then with Trevor in front of her and Damon behind her. They’d flipped into protection mode. She’d overreacted or heard something and assumed it was something else. “I’m sorry.”

  Damon brushed his hand down her arm. “Never apologize for being safe.”

  “It’s hard to make out sounds with all the echoing.” Trevor shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  Funny, but it felt like a big deal. She’d taken on their paranoia and she had no idea what to do about that.

  Cate walked around freely now, but Damon still hadn’t regained his ability to swallow. They still hung around the ranges and he couldn’t help but feel like a target. “This is getting out of hand.”

  Shootings, fire, break-in. There was only so much they could take. Every time he thought they had Cate safe, something new unraveled.

  “It’s about to stop,” Trevor said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been summoned. I think the fire was the last straw for our boss.” Trevor waved to Roger and a few of the people with him. “Your old motel room in twenty minutes for a private chat with Garrett.”

  Reckoning. There was no other way to describe it. Damon knew once he added in the part about the shooting this morning Wren would lose it. He hated putting people in danger. He really hated doing that to an untrained civilian.

  “You told them we’re fine, right?” Not that it would make a difference. Damon sensed Wren’s patience was at the end.

  Trevor shook his head. “Sorry, but I’m with them on this one. The attacks have veered from amateur to more targeted and planned out.”

  “Which means we’re close to figuring out the truth.” Damon knew he sounded like Cate now.

  Speaking of her, he looked around. Made sure he saw her. He couldn’t let her wander away.

  “Cate is not a professional. There are a lot of innocent people here.” Trevor unloaded the weapons and returned them to their cases. “I get the idea of drawing the person out but we need to find another way.”

  He was right. Hell, Damon had thought the very same thing himself this morning. “So, I’ve got to go listen to this lecture from Garrett now?”

  “Have fun.”

  Damon started to walk away, then stopped. “And, um—”

  “I’ll watch her.”

  Damon didn’t even have a chance to close the door to his motel room before Garrett started talking. “We’re done here. It’s time to pack up this assignment and move on.”

  “No.” It was a knee-jerk reaction to being ordered to do something. Driving over, he’d decided they needed a sensible draw-out plan that maximized information and intel. Now he was fighting back and he didn’t know why. Not really.

  “It’s not a request.” Garrett held a take-out coffee cup and played with the edge of the lid, popping it off then pressing it back down again. “We need to handle this another way. Trevor will plant cameras and work on getting some visuals from outside as well.”

  “It doesn’t matter because as soon as Cate and I leave, the issues will stop.” That’s the one thing he felt pretty certain of. The town, the school, had been quiet for years. Then he burst in, pretending to be someone else, and they’d been fighting a menace ever since. But part of him thought the anger, what had this person tick
ed off, was Cate coming to town. The targeting was too personal for it not to be the problem.

  “This whole case began because someone was getting into her house and messing around.”

  Garrett wasn’t wrong often, but he was now. “No, it started because someone killed her sister.”

  “You’re using that word now?”

  Damon knew that was the only answer. “Seems obvious.”

  Garrett nodded. “Wren thinks so, too.”

  But they had another problem. One who didn’t work for Wren or much like taking orders. “She’s determined. I’m trying to keep her safe but it’s getting harder.” Impossible was the word he was looking for.

  “You still have perspective when it comes to her?”

  Damon glanced around the room and saw signs of her everywhere. The sweatshirt she liked to wear at night. They’d somehow missed that when they left to stay at Sullivan. Her handwriting on a note about food, a note he kept for some reason. “Meaning?”

  “You’re dealing with messed-up family stuff. You’re sleeping with her. There’s no way to keep it all separate and clean.”

  Suddenly everyone wanted to talk about his past. He’d gone years without them interfering with who he dated. Now everyone seemed to have an opinion. “Was there an office memo I missed about my private life?”

  Garrett frowned, with most of his usual charm in hiding. “The violence isn’t going to stop. It’s going to increase, ratchet up.”

  “I know.” Because that’s how these things worked. Damon had been around long enough, seen enough.

  “So . . . ?”

  “I’ll get her out.” That was the only answer left.

  “You don’t really have a choice. I’m not kidding, Damon. Make it happen.”

  Easy for him to say. He was happy and in love and thought that meant he had some unique perspective. But Cate was uniquely Cate. “You don’t know her like I do.”

  Garrett looked around and leaned in, as if he were going to share some top secret intel. “Want some female advice?”

  Damon almost laughed at the seriousness in his tone. “From you?”

  “I’m a married man now.”