Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series)

by Beauman, Cate

  “Things’ve gotten interesting.”

  “Interesting.” He choked out a laugh and stared out the window. “Yeah, I guess.” He still couldn’t believe Alex lied to him. “So, how should we handle this?”

  “Call Canon.”

  Jackson turned from his view of the choppy bay. “She’s not doing this.”

  “Then what do you propose? We’re drowning here, man. Our leads are dead. Miranda hasn’t gotten jack shit. I have to get back to LA sooner or later. This is our in.”

  Everything Tucker said was the absolute truth, but he couldn’t risk Alex. If something went wrong… “There has to be another way.”

  “Yeah, well, nothing’s coming to mind.”

  “Give me a minute to think.”

  “A minute’s about all we’ve got. Forty-eight hours isn’t much time.”

  Jackson struggled to push past the fear and find another solution. The stirrings of dread grew stronger as each new idea brought him back to Alex as their only option. “I don’t want her here anymore. We should head back to LA.”

  Tucker held his gaze, his eyes full of understanding. “You can cross that off the list. She’s going to do this. You and I both know we can’t stop her. The Feds will use her. This could be their big break, especially after we present them with all the evidence Ethan’s dug up.”

  Jackson sat back on the arm of the couch as it sunk in that this was really happening.

  “The way I see it, we have one option, and that’s to get in on the sting from the beginning, or else they’ll push us out. We both know we’re at their mercy if that happens. If we establish ourselves as her personal security, they’ll have to work with us more than they would otherwise.”

  “That’s true.” What else could he say?

  “I’ll call Ethan and get the ball rolling before we contact Canon.”

  He didn’t want to think about this. For every step he and Tucker took, the taskforce and traffickers would be five steps ahead. “I need to talk to Alex.” He had hurt her. They had hurt each other, but he couldn’t stand knowing he made her cry.

  “Come get the release forms before you do.” Tucker opened the door and left the room.

  Alexa grabbed another leaf of romaine and tore it from the heart, then tossed it into the large, wooden bowl. She picked up the same pieces she’d already shredded and ripped them some more, paying little attention to her dinner preparations. God, she’d made a mess of things. Her lower lip wobbled, and she sniffed. A tear tracked down her cheek, and she swiped it away with her forearm.

  She should be celebrating, not crying. Her plan worked. She had a date. In less than forty-eight hours, the authorities would know who Steve-O was and would be one step closer to bringing Abby home—a real step closer. But she’d hurt Jack to make that happen. She shuddered out a deep sigh. Why did she have to lose to win?

  Alexa grabbed more garden-fresh lettuce from the basket and absently ran the head under the cold spray. This whole situation was so complicated. By helping Abby, she was risking Jack. And Livy. Could the organization really trace her to Kent Island? A hot rush of fear buckled her knees as she thought of her beautiful little girl trapped in the clutches of sex traffickers. Margret’s abduction had taken place less than thirty minutes from here—too close. Would she watch another member of her family be yanked into the back of a van? She leaned forward and rested her head on the solid wooden cupboard, trying to steady her stuttering heart. Why did she have to choose between the people she loved most?

  “Alex.” Fingers brushed her shoulder, and she whirled.

  “Sorry.” Jack dropped his hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She swiped at her damp cheeks. “You didn’t. I’m fine.”

  Seconds passed in silence while Jack held her gaze. What should she say? Unable to bear the scrutiny of his stare, she turned to the cutting board and began to chop the head of lettuce with an unsteady hand, but soon set the knife down, afraid she might cut herself.

  “Alex—”

  “I didn’t want to—” They spoke at the same time, and she turned. “I didn’t want to lie to you, Jack. I hated lying.”

  “But not enough not to do it.”

  “If there had been another way…”

  He shook his head, dismissing her. “It’s over. We’ve both done things, said things we regret.”

  She nodded, reading between the lines perfectly. He’d accepted the situation, but he wouldn’t forget. Where did that leave them?

  He held out a small stack of papers.

  Frowning, she took them. “What’s this?”

  “A legal agreement.”

  She stared down at the bold black and red insignia of Ethan Cooke Security’s letterhead. “I don’t understand.”

  “By signing those, you’ll be consenting to formal close protection services for yourself and Olivia. Tucker and I will be your bodyguards of record for the remainder of our stay in Maryland.”

  “Bodyguards? Is that—is that necessary? I can’t afford—”

  “Canon’s going to be pissed when he finds out we’ve been holding back on him. He’ll want to whisk you and Olivia off to a safe house until the conclusion of the sting. I’m not leaving my daughter’s safety in someone else’s hands.”

  “A safe house?” The gravity of the situation was becoming more apparent. What had she gotten them tangled up in?

  “Once we bring Canon and the taskforce in on this, you’ll be considered a State’s witness if this somehow links to the ring. Testifying on behalf of Immigrations and Customs Enforcement is federal.”

  “I don’t want to testify. I just want my sister back.”

  He shrugged. “Arrests could be made from the information gathered while you’re wired. It all goes together.”

  She leaned against the counter, attempting to take everything in. “I don’t—I don’t…”

  “You’ll be offered witness protection by the United States Marshal’s service. We’re going to make sure that isn’t necessary. Their priority will be keeping tabs on you. They won’t want anything happening to their prize witness.”

  He had to know she was terrified—for herself, for their daughter—but he didn’t seem to care. There was no compassion while he spoke; Jack laid it out matter-of-factly. “Is this payback, Jack? Is this your attempt at scaring me?”

  “Nope. Just telling you how it is. Having top-notch bodyguards from a world renowned firm will keep Canon off your back and guarantee he’ll stay cooperative instead of shutting me and Tucker out—at least logistically.”

  “I want you to take Livy to LA.”

  “Fill out the papers.” He spoke to her as if they were strangers.

  “Why are you being like this?”

  “I’m not being like anything. Risks were taken, now there are consequences. This is the way you wanted it.”

  She stared at the aloof man who claimed to understand her better than anyone. Did he realize he was ripping her heart in half with his cold indifference? “I never wanted any of this. I have to do this for Abby.”

  “And take Olivia along for the ride.”

  She gasped from the shock of his well-aimed blow. “How dare you. How dare you stand there and say that to me in your smug tone. You have no idea what this is like. They’re killing my sister. They’re killing her by inches. Every day that she’s trapped in a life she never asked for, she’s dying. How can you ask me to turn my back on that?”

  Undone by Jack’s callousness, she yanked up the pen by the phone and scribbled her name on the highlighted spaces requiring her signature. “There.” She tossed the papers at him, and they sailed to the floor as she walked off, leaving him staring after her.

  Jackson sat beside Olivia at the dining room table. She hadn’t stopped talkin
g since she came clamoring through the door half an hour before, loaded down with souvenirs and dragging his tired parents behind her.

  “The sharks were very big. I didn’t like them. But they can’t hurt me, right Grampy?”

  “That’s right, honey.” He gave Olivia a wink and a smile. “The glass is thick and strong.”

  “The glass is strong,” Livy repeated as she shoveled up a bite of grilled chicken slathered in barbeque sauce.

  “Sounds like you had a great time, Liv.” Jackson tried to muster up some enthusiasm for his little girl, but it was a struggle. He slid a glance to the right, in Alex’s direction on the other side of their daughter. She hadn’t looked at him since their conversation in the kitchen. He couldn’t blame her.

  He remembered his cool, self-righteous tone and winced. It hadn’t been his intention to scare her shitless. He set his fork down and sighed. Yeah it had, but the extra dollop of asshole he’d thrown into the mix had been unplanned. He screwed up—plain and simple—and ended up hurting her even more.

  Everything he’d said to Alex was true. The stakes were high and incredibly dangerous. He was terrified—for Alex, for Olivia—and was handling it like a moron. It was knee-jerk to want to keep her safe and whisk her and their daughter away. If he could get away with it, he probably would—State’s witness or no State’s witness. They’re killing my sister. They’re killing her by inches. Her wrenching eyes had simply undone him when she’d tossed those words at him.

  He glanced her way again, noting the misery in her eyes despite her attempt at cheerful conversation. He clenched his jaw, yearning to give comfort, and realized he couldn’t take her back to LA, or anywhere for that matter. Alex had to do this. She had to keep her ‘date.’ Abby wasn’t the only one dying inside. Alex died a little each day too. He and Tucker would get her through Friday night’s operation—two or three hours of pure hell. They’d handled worse situations. Detective Canon would have his chance to gather new leads, but all bets were off once the sting was over. Saturday he was taking Alex and Olivia home. They were going back to LA.

  “…and the crab. He was so pinchy.” Olivia’s fingers turned into enthusiastic little pinchers as she demonstrated for the table. “Huh, Grammy?”

  “That’s right, my brilliant girl.”

  Alex made a grab to save Olivia’s cup of milk before the glass toppled. “I’m glad you’re excited, Livy, but I want you to eat some of your dinner.”

  “Sorry, mommy.”

  “That’s okay.” Alex touched the tip of Livy’s nose and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Livy quieted as she attempted to fork up a bite of confetti-sized salad. “I can’t—I can’t get any lettuce, Mommy.”

  “Use your spoon, sweetie.”

  “Guess your mom didn’t want anyone choking tonight.” Grampy winked at Olivia, then at Alex.

  “I’m sorry, George. I guess I got a little carried away with the chopping.” Alex toyed with her chicken, then set her fork down.

  “I’m just teasing. It all goes down the same whether you have to chew or not.” Dad chuckled at his own joke, and Jackson shook his head as his mother muttered something. “Is this thing on?” His father tapped his imaginary microphone. “Rough crowd tonight.”

  Livy giggled. “Rough crowd, Grampy.”

  “So,” Mom interjected when the room fell silent, “how was your day, Jackson and Alexa?”

  “Fine,” the two of them said in unison. They glanced at each other, but Alexa quickly broke their stare. Had they truly laughed and had fun just hours before?

  “When I spoke with Alexa on the phone, she mentioned you got stuck in the storm.”

  Jackson flashed back to the thunder and lightning and Alex’s gorgeous naked body moving with his. “Yeah. It was a doozy.” He stabbed up a large piece of chicken and popped the bite in his mouth, wanting to drop the subject.

  “And what about you, Tucker? Did you have a nice time on your adventure to DC?”

  “It was stellar, Mrs. Mathews. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a meeting so much.” Tucker grinned.

  “You’re a handsome devil, Tucker. A handsome devil with a wily smile. Do you have a beautiful woman waiting for you in California?”

  “I thought you were my beautiful woman.”

  Mom laughed. “You need someone with spice. There’s too much mischief behind those eyes. Isn’t that right, Jackson?”

  “You call it mischief; I call it bullshi—” he cut himself off when he caught his daughter’s eye.

  “Daddy, did you use the fishing pole today? Did you bring me any pink fishies?”

  “No. No pink fishies, Liv.” He smiled and tugged gently at her ponytail.

  She grinned. “I saw pink fishies at the shark place. They were mommies and daddies.”

  “Oh yeah?” He reached for his glass of milk and took a big swallow.

  “Yes. They gave each other kisses like you and mommy do. Kissy. Kissy. Kissy.” Livy slapped a hand over her barbeque-mess mouth, trying to suppress her giggles.

  Alex pushed away from the table. “Livy, are you finished with your meal?”

  “Yes, I’m full.”

  “You need a bath.” Alex scooted Olivia’s chair back and pulled their daughter into her arms, transferring Olivia’s mess to her own clothes and arms. “If you’ll excuse us. Oh, and don’t worry about the dishes, Mom. I’ll take care of them after I have Livy settled in for the night.”

  “Come on, Daddy.” Livy held out her hand.

  “Daddy’s busy, sweetie. We’ll see him later,” Alex chimed in.

  Livy’s tired eyes filled with tears. “But I want Daddy too.”

  He wanted to give Alex the space she clearly sought, but Livy’s needs came first. “I’m coming, Liv.” He stood.

  Alex turned and headed for the stairs.

  “Wait for Daddy, Mommy.”

  “He’s right behind us, honey.” She kept going.

  “Wait, Mommy. Waiting is polite, right?”

  Trapped by manners, Alex stopped on the first stair. “Yes it is.” Alex was forced to look in his eyes when he stayed at the foot of the steps.

  “I’m right here, Liv.”

  Olivia glanced from him to Alex.

  “Kiss Mommy, Daddy. Like a kissy fishy.”

  “We need to get you in the tub. You’re covered in sauce.”

  “Kiss like a kissy fishy!” their daughter demanded louder, and her lip trembled.

  “Olivia, that’s enough now,” Alex scolded.

  “She’s probably picking up on the tension.”

  “I imagine you’re right.” Alex rubbed Livy’s back and pressed her cheek to her hair.

  “Kissy fishy, Mommy,” Livy whispered.

  “Okay, kissy fish.” She smiled at their daughter, and then looked to Jackson.

  They leaned in toward each other. Their lips met briefly, then Alex pulled away. She turned to take the next step, and he snagged her arm. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

  She attempted to free herself, but he held her still. “I’m sorry for…everything.” How could he say what he needed to, the way he wanted to, with their little girl blinking at him with curious eyes?

  “Daddy said sorry. Isn’t that nice? Do you feel better, Mommy?”

  “Yes, much better.” She turned and walked up the stair with hurt and anger still clouding her eyes.

  Chapter 19

  Alexa took another deep breath in an attempt to settle her fraying nerves as she scrutinized herself in the mirror. When that didn’t work, she pressed a hand to her queasy stomach and sighed. It was no use. No amount of breathing or silent pep talks was going to banish the weight settled on her shoulders. Tonight was the night, and she was a wreck. She had only one ‘date’ to
accomplish so much. Tomorrow they were going back to LA—with or without answers for Abby.

  In less than two hours, she would stand face to face with the man who played a part in her sister’s abduction—she was sure of it, despite Tucker’s warnings to keep an open mind. Would Steve-O recognize her from the short news clip all those weeks ago when she’d tried to flee from the cameras? Did she still look too old, despite the endless preparations, or too much like Abby? Unsure, she leaned closer to the mirror. She’d kept her makeup light and natural. She’d made her eyes enormous with a slide of navy blue eyeliner and several quick sweeps of mascara. Her lips were shiny with clear gloss. She appeared as she did in the photo Steve-O found appealing, but would it be enough? It had to be.

  She stepped back, judging her young, flirty outfit. The pretty, white, button-down, sleeveless blouse and mid-thigh navy blue skirt covered with tiny flowers hugged her curves. The snug, yellow shirt below her blouse showed a hint of cleavage. The two side-braids she’d twisted into the blond wig added to her sexy schoolgirl appeal—she hoped.

  This had to work. But what if it didn’t? “Oh enough.” Tired of her endless racing thoughts, she turned off the light and stepped from the bathroom. She slipped on her strappy white sandals, grabbed her purse, and walked into the hall. She stopped short when Jack came out of the office.

  They’d barely spoken over the last two days. They’d cared for Livy together with the most basic of conversations and a solid wall of tension between them. Jack had apologized late Wednesday night after Livy had gone to bed, and she’d accepted, but there was no peace. Everything was different now. Jack’s sense of humor had vanished, and her guard was up, waiting for him to walk away after he met his obligations set forth by Ethan Cooke Security’s legal contracts. She’d hurt him, and he her, but that was only half their problem. The enormity of their situation loomed like a black cloud, smothering any dredges of happiness.

  Jack had changed. He no longer laughed and joked when they took Livy to the park, grocery store, or any of the other places they visited; instead, he kept her and Livy close, scrutinizing everyone, analyzing, looking for potential danger. Danger she had put them in.