Bulletproof Princess

by It Girls

  "No, I don't. But you having knowledge creates…complications."

  "So give me a badge, or keep your mouth shut about it. Either way works for me, and the shut mouth's been working fine for four years."

  Jack's frown creased his forehead. "Let me think on it."

  "Fine," Frank said.

  Chloe smiled, and whispered close to Jack's ear. "He works for Renee, too."

  Jack nodded and pecked a kiss to her lips. "Thanks."

  "So where we going?" Frank asked.

  "Hang a right, Frank." The limo pulled out into traffic. "Chloe, it's time to issue a Rose alert. Get these women in one place so we can find out what's not on paper. Try Perrini's, in an hour," Jack said.

  Chloe put out the calls, and noticed something else. Peppermint. Why did she smell it now? "Frank, do you have Peppermint Schnapps in your flask?"

  "No."

  "Where's the peppermint, then?"

  "It's on the carpet, Chloe," Jack said.

  "Oh, Miss Emma's peppermint foot treatment," Frank said. "She always takes her shoes off and the oils get in the carpet."

  The limo suddenly lurched and made a hissing noise. Frank pulled over as far as he could, given there were no parking spaces, then popped the hood and opened the door, totally disgusted. "She's running hot." He pushed the emergency roadside service button on the dash, then flagged down a taxi that had been just behind them.

  Frank tilted his head. "I'll phone as soon as the car is repaired, Princess, and then meet you."

  "Are you warm enough without a coat?" she asked.

  He opened the back door of the cab. "Got one on the front seat," he assured her. "Be safe."

  Chloe smiled and got inside the taxi.

  Jack went to get in, then stopped. "Chloe, wait. We need to take care of something first. Come with me."

  Surprised, Chloe said, "Okay." She reached into her purse to grab a tip for the driver, planning to ask him to wait.

  Jack stepped back so she could get out, and extended her his hand. "Hurry, honey."

  The driver stomped on the gas. Chloe slid on the seat.

  Frank and Jack lunged for the door, but caught only air.

  The cabbie burned rubber and momentum slammed the back door shut. The locks clicked.

  Jack yelled. "Get out, Chloe. Get out!"

  Pinned back to the seat by the speed-demon maniac driving, Chloe slid from side to side with every turn as they whipped in and out of traffic, weaving lane-to-lane down Amsterdam. Figured the lights were with them this once. She had to get out of this damn cab before he got to wherever he intended to take her. She grabbed for the door handle.

  There was none.

  She was locked inside.

  Chapter 15

  The backseat of the cab was empty.

  Empty. How the hell was she going to get out? There was nothing— and her handbag wasn't heavy enough to break the glass. Frantic, Chloe screamed at the maniacal driver. "Stop the damn car!"

  He ignored her, drove faster, jerking the wheel to slide past a sedan and cut off a truck. She dug through her purse for her gun. Her hands shook so hard she could barely hold on to it.

  If you're locked in a vehicle, don't try to kick out the side windows. Go for the rear windshield. It's bigger and that makes it weaker. Kick it out. It won't shatter, it's safety glass.

  Jimmy's voice. His training. Chloe forced herself to calm down and think. She wasn't a helpless victim; she'd had tons of training, and she could use it, if she stopped reacting on emotion and got her damn act together.

  Fake it 'til you make it, baby.

  Got it, Emma. Chloe twisted on the seat, bumping her shoulder on the clear, bulletproof plastic covering the back of the front seat. It was a barrier installed in all cabs to protect the drivers from attempted robberies. Finally in position, she kicked at the rear windshield. Come on, Jimmy Choo. Don't let me down!

  She kicked again and again, and finally kicked her heel through the glass. Then she kept kicking at the edges of the hole, making it larger and larger.

  The driver screamed, "Knock it off or I'll shoot you here."

  "Go ahead, asshole," she shouted back, swiveled and kicked the back of his seat.

  It cracked.

  It wasn't bulletproof! She kicked it a second time and shouted again. "I said go ahead." With luck, he would believe it was just temper; he wouldn't realize he was vulnerable.

  He lifted a gun off the seat, looked back at her. "One more time, Princess."

  She held her Glock inside her purse, pressed its nose flat against the break in the plastic and fired.

  He yelled and swerved, his gun hitting the floorboard with a thud. "Bitch!"

  Chloe didn't have time to throw up as she braced for impact. There was traffic ahead, and it wasn't moving. She had to get out of here, or she was going to end up dead, anyway.

  Shrugging out of her jacket, she rolled her sleeves over her hands to protect them from the rough edges of the glass, then pulled herself through the back windshield. Belly down, she pressed flat against the trunk and held on to the glass frame, her hands wrapped in her coat. Sliding, she looked through the cab to the congested traffic ahead, estimated their speed at about thirty miles per hour. Less than a minute until the cab crashed into the stopped cars.

  A blue car pulled up alongside her. "Here!" a thin man with hair the color of carrots shouted. "Come here."

  A convertible. She walked her hands along the windshield opening, until she was at its side. "Pull up!" She shouted at the man driving. "Pull up!"

  He inched ahead. The cars were stopped not twenty yards in front of them. "Hurry!" he yelled.

  Chloe jumped. Her feet hit the floorboard in the convertible. She crumpled, fell headlong against the backseat, scraping the driver's head and landing with a swoosh and a heartfelt groan. Pain shot through her side.

  He slammed on the brakes.

  His tires churned smoke, squealed on the pavement. "Ohhhhhhhh dammmmmmmmmmn."

  Chloe covered her head with her arms, slid off the seat onto the floor and prayed she didn't become a missile. There was no way she could get a seat belt on in time.

  The car screeched to a stop, its front end inches away from the back end of an 18-wheeler. Chloe pulled herself onto the seat, looked up at the truck, which seemed to stretch skyward forever, and nearly fainted.

  The cab veered sideways and crashed into a parked black van, drove it into the red Jeep in front of it. Chloe watched, unable to look away, involuntarily jerking at each crunch of metal colliding with metal. Her mouth gaped open as the driver crawled out and took off, limping. She couldn't even move to chase him.

  The guy driving the convertible looked back at her. "You alive back there?"

  She nodded. "I'm alive." And if she said it a few more times, she might just believe it.

  "What happened?"

  "The cabdriver abducted me." She couldn't believe it.

  "Why?"

  She shook her head to clear it, and began feeling the cold. Where was her coat? Had she lost her coat? "I don't know."

  "Oh, man." His eyes glittered excitement. "I know you. I know you from the newspaper!" Excited, his voice hitched. "You're Princess Chloe."

  She nodded. "You saved my life," she said. "Thank you."

  "No way." His cheeks flushed. "You were already out of the cab. How'd you break the window?"

  "I— I don't remember," she said, deciding stupidity was her best option. But she did remember, of course, and inside she spoke the truth. Jimmy Valentine, I'll love you forever for all you've taught me, and I swear I'll never miss another training session as long as I live.

  What he'd taught her had saved her life.

  A silver car screeched to a stop beside her.

  Were more of them after her? Chloe scrambled for her gun, but her purse was still in the cab. She stiffened, preparing to bolt over the door and hit the street running.

  Both front doors flew open as Jack and Frank bounded out of the
car. "Chloe!" Jack reached her first, grabbed her in a hug and lifted her out of the car. "What— how did you end up in this car?"

  The driver just stared at them. "I didn't force her."

  Frank came up, touched her arm. "You okay, Princess?"

  "I'm fine, Frank. A little bruised, but fine."

  The driver explained what had happened, and Jack and Frank looked to her for confirmation. She nodded.

  Two police cars pulled up and Jack went to intercept the officers. They all went over to the mangled cab. Chloe saw Jack make a call. He gestured to her, and the officers nodded.

  "What happened to the cabdriver?" Frank asked.

  "He ran off." She pointed, but the man disappeared. Damn. Some spy she was.

  She reached out a hand to her rescuer. "Thank you again for helping me. You're quite the hero."

  "You're welcome, Princess Chloe."

  Jack strode back to them and handed Chloe her purse, which now sported a clean bullet hole. "Can you wait and make a statement?" he asked Chloe's hero. The man nodded, wide-eyed. "Thanks. We have to go. Chloe, they've agreed to talk to you later."

  Chloe sighed, grateful Jack's mysterious connections were at work.

  "Jack, take her to the car," Frank said, then asked the driver for his name and address. "Princess Chloe will want to express her gratitude."

  "No, that's not necessary. She was hanging out the back window. Anyone would have pulled alongside, though I'll tell you, I never expected she'd jump."

  "She often does the unexpected," Frank said. "It's put plenty of gray hair on this old head."

  Chloe smiled. He'd been telling her that her whole life. She walked over and climbed in the passenger's seat beside Jack, who was behind the wheel. He took her hand in a death grip.

  "Frank's a little shaken up," he said. "Don't mention anything about me driving."

  She nodded, shaken up herself and touched that Jack was being so thoughtful toward Frank. "It scared him," she said. "He loves me."

  "Yes, he does," Jack said, then slid her a killer look. "The next time I tell you to hurry and come to me, for God's sake, hurry and come to me."

  Jack was scared, too. She hugged him and dropped kisses to his cheek, his nose and eyelids, letting him know she was fine. "I will, Jack."

  Frank crawled in the backseat. "Next time Jack tells you to come on, you move your ass, Princess. You hear me?" He grumbled and groused. "Scared ten damn years off me."

  Chloe smiled at Jack, then turned serious and glanced at Frank. "I'm sorry. I just didn't think fast enough."

  "Damn right."

  "I'll be more careful in the future."

  "Damn right."

  "Damn right." Jack agreed with gusto. "And no more chances until we get all this nailed down."

  Chloe found a napkin in the glove box and wiped at her hands. They were filthy. "Who fears me enough to pull that?"

  "That worthless brother of yours ain't looking too good, Princess."

  "No, Frank. He might be angry, but he wouldn't kill me. Erik loves me."

  "Erik uses you," he countered. "Damn fool boy always has."

  "He wouldn't kill me, Frank. I don't believe it." She wouldn't accept it. It just wasn't possible.

  "Was the cabdriver a man or a woman?"

  Jack answered. "The cabdriver was a man. No identification left in the cab."

  "Humph." Frank chewed at his lower lip. "No doubt he was hired by the damn Duke. That cab was following the limo. They must have done something to make it overheat."

  Chloe spun around. "You know about the Duke, too?"

  "Oh, hell, Princess. If it's got anything to do with you, I've always known it."

  Great. So much for not breaching security. "Am I busted?" she asked Jack.

  "That's to be determined."

  "Terrific." She sighed and swiped the dirt from her palm, dabbed a tongue-tipped napkin against a grimy spot. "This is just turning out to be a banner couple days."

  Jack took a call, and turned a one-eighty. "They're ready with the limo. I figure you're going to want to bring it home, right, Frank?"

  "Damn right."

  They dropped Frank off at the limo, and Jack spoke briefly to one of the men, then returned to the silver car. As soon as Frank left, Jack and Chloe took off.

  "Whose car is this?" she asked.

  "A friend's. He was in the area."

  His friend could be FBI, CIA, Special Detail Unit, or other representatives for the Governess. Just about anyone who walked in the top-secret world. "I should report to Renee."

  "I already have, Princess," Jack said. "I'm stuck to your hip for the duration. Could be interesting."

  She shoved the napkin into a trash bag that was hanging on the door handle. "If you stick to me, you'd better mean it."

  Jack tapped his left blinker. It clicked in the night, sounding louder than in the light of day. "Would it put you in a better mood to know you can break my heart, too?"

  Her heart skipped, then thudded hard. "Is it still true?"

  "Damn right." Frank's favorite phrase was catching on with Jack now.

  Chloe smiled from the soul out. "Then, yes it would help."

  "Renee intercepted your call for a Rose alert. She's leaving it to you to handpick the list and make the calls."

  Chloe plucked a loose thread off Jack's sleeve. "Sounds like the move of an innocent woman."

  "Or one who's stacked events to unfold in her favor."

  "She's not doing that, Jack." Chloe held onto faith. Yes, it was shaky. Yes, there were questionable points. Her bones might have doubts, but her heart swore that Renee hadn't switched sides, and Chloe was sticking with it.

  "Are you okay to make the Rose calls now, or do you need some recovery time?"

  "I was terrified, hanging on the back of that cab. But with them coming at me that openly, I'm afraid there is no recovery time," Chloe said. "The longer they hold the women— especially Tatiana— the greater the odds of them getting caught."

  "You were brave, jumping into that convertible."

  "I wasn't brave. I didn't want to die. Huge difference."

  "Is there?" He glanced over, clasped her hand in his and rested it on his thigh. "Bravery is taking action in the face of danger, not being unafraid of it."

  She had been beyond terrified, but she had taken action. Still, if she could have run away to avoid it, she would have. "No illusions here, darling. I'm a coward faking bravery and that's that."

  It ticked her off to have to admit it and to have to feel it, so she changed the subject. "I expect Rubi to call anytime and say she's been told to get on a private flight. We both know only one of those three planes will return to New York. The other two will fly to the Far East."

  Blinker clicking, Jack turned left. "You're likely right."

  "Are we ready for that?"

  "FBI is on alert and monitoring." He blended into the heavy traffic, stroking her hand with his thumb.

  Glad to hear that they were on point, she checked her watch. Nearly six o'clock in the morning. Another bitch of a night down. She phoned Olivia and gave her a listing of the Roses she wanted to meet at Perrini's at ten o'clock, then phoned Lucas and left a message for him to expect them. She lifted Jack's hand. "I'm starving."

  They stopped for breakfast, then checked in with Alan to see if he'd found any evidence definitively naming Tatiana as a member of Ryan's real-estate cartel. He, his father, his brother, Erik and Brit were proven entities. Tatiana wasn't— yet.

  Chloe and Jack then checked on Emma at the hospital. Jack had a few words with Mac Dayton while Chloe updated a comatose Emma. Emma likely couldn't hear her, but it made Chloe feel better and she sorted through things, talking to Emma.

  Then Chloe and Jack dropped by the G.R.C. to brief Renee on the taxi incident— still no word on the Governess, though Harrison was making progress in his investigation. Chloe gave a smiling Jimmy Valentine two kisses, one on each cheek, for "saves" she'd had as a direct result of his trai
ning.

  Jimmy beamed.

  Chloe showered in the basement's deluxe locker room and dressed in a dove-gray Chanel suit. "In honor of Emma," Kristi said, smoothing the fabric on Chloe's back. Nodding, Chloe thought about Tatiana and the Duke. The match from hell. She'd help him make money, he'd get her the power she craved.

  "Ah," Kristi said. "You look perfect, Chloe." She checked her watch. "It's time to meet the Roses."

  "Thanks, Kristi."

  "Don't forget your shoes." She pointed to a pair of gray leather pumps.

  "They're not Jimmy Choo." Chloe looked at her. "I have to wear Jimmy Choo. They've saved my ass so many times during all this. I can't risk it, Kristi."

  "No problem," she said, disappearing into the room containing all the designer samples sent over. Having a Rose wear your clothes guaranteed success, so the designers were generous to the G.R.C. "Wait here— and pinch your cheeks to put the color back into them."

  Chloe pinched and Kristi returned with a pair of gray suede Jimmy Choo heels. Relieved, Chloe slipped them on her feet.

  Kristi clasped Chloe's arm. "Get him, Chloe. You get him, and you kill him. No arrest and jail cell for this one."

  Chloe patted Kristi's hand. "Honey, I understand the feeling, believe me. I'd love to see this son of a bitch dead. But if I can get him arrested, then that's what I have to do. Otherwise, we're just like him."

  Kristi blinked hard, then made the mental shift and nodded.

  Chloe found Jack, who'd showered and changed into a steel-gray Armani with a blue tie she loved. Gorgeous. Would her heart always flutter on seeing him? Definitely. It always had. "Ready?"

  Olivia piped up. "I've gotten all of the Roses except Becca."

  "Did you try her apartment in Greenwich?"

  "Is she still going there?" Renee asked, looking concerned.

  Chloe shrugged. When Olivia started talking, it was apparent to all of them that she'd found Becca. But when she got off the phone, she was smiling.

  Renee raised one well-groomed brow. "Well?"

  "A certain MI-6 agent answered the phone. Becca's just fine," Olivia reported.

  Jack led Chloe out, and when they were in the car, he asked, "What was that about Becca being at the apartment?"

  How to explain Becca— and this interesting new development? Chloe didn't even try. "Let's just say we're thrilled that Becca's finally met a man who can more than keep up with her."