The Bodyguard
Page 11
Well, until she reached her supposed destination.
She would park, exit her car, and wave him on. Wave—aka flip him off. He would drive forward, pulling shadows around the vehicle and hiding his location. When she would lose sight of him, she would reenter her car and head home. To her real home. Again, he would follow—but those times she had no idea.
Tonight was no different.
She exited and “waved.”
He waved back, fighting a grin, and eased his Tahoe forward.
The tattoos around his eyes burned as he scanned the surrounding area. No one but him probably noticed, but the plumes of darkness branching in every direction were writhing and groaning, desperate to avoid the light of the moon and street lamps.
Come to me, he beseeched them.
They didn’t hesitate. As if they’d merely been waiting for the invitation, they danced toward him, flattening against his car, shielding it—and thereby him—from prying eyes.
“Freaks me out every damn time you do that,” Rowan said as he crawled into the front passenger seat. For the first time, Sean’s friend had accompanied him to “keep you from doing something you’ll regret.” Not that Gabby had known. Rowan had lain in the backseat the entire drive. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
“I can.” Sean’s gaze could cut through shadows as easily as a knife through butter.
Gabby was in the process of settling behind the wheel of her car. Though more than two weeks had passed since their kiss, they hadn’t touched again. Not even a brush of fingers.
He was becoming desperate for more.
That kiss . . . it was the hottest of his life. He’d forgotten where he was, what—and who—was around him. He’d never, never, risked discovery like that. But that night, having Gabby so close, those lush lips of hers parted and ready, those brown eyes watching him as if he were something delicious, he’d been unable to stop himself. He’d beckoned the shadows around them, meshed their lips together, touched her in places a man should only touch a woman in private, and tasted her.
Oh, had he tasted her. Sugar and lemon. Which meant she’d been sipping lemonade during her breaks. Lemonade had never been sexy to him before. Now he was addicted to the stuff. Drank it every chance he got. Hell, he sported a hard-on if he even spotted the yellow fruit.
At night he thought about pouring lemon juice over her lean body, sprinkling that liquid with sugar, and then feasting. She’d come, he’d come, and then they could do it all over again.
Seriously. Lemonade was like his own personal brand of cocaine now—which he’d once been addicted to, had spent years in rehab combating, and had sworn never to let himself become so obsessed with a substance again. Good luck with that.
“I’m getting nowhere with her,” Rowan said. “You, she watches. You, she kissed.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Gabby’s car passed his and he accelerated, staying close enough to her that anyone trying to merge into her lane wouldn’t clip his car because they couldn’t see him. Not that anyone was out and about at this time of night. “She’s mine. I don’t want you touching her.”
“Finally. The truth. Which is a good thing, because I already called Bill and told him you were gonna be the one to seduce her.”
“Thanks.” This was one of the reasons he and Rowan were such good friends. “But I thought you were here tonight to keep me from her.”
“First, you’re welcome. Second, I lied. Third, what about that shit about women not being able to trust you?”
“I’ll deal. She’ll deal.” She would have to. He wanted her, had to have her. Would have her.
Sean had kept his distance from her these past few weeks for the mission. Rose Briar needed her secrets, her abilities, after all, and Rowan had been their best bet of getting them. Had been. Not anymore. The thought of another man touching her filled Sean with rage.
A rage so dark even his precious shadows trembled in fear of him.
Gabby would be his. She might be a creature of secrets and gloom, hiding from the world, running from what she could do and what others would do to her if they knew, but there was a better way.
He would teach her that things could be different. He would prove she wasn’t alone in this. And she would trust him, just as Bill wanted. Sean would not feel guilty about earning that trust, either. He wasn’t only doing it for the job; he was doing it for Gabby. He was going to improve her life.
She merged onto the highway, accelerating. He followed.
“What’s the quickest way to gain a person’s trust?” he asked, thinking aloud. He’d never cared enough to try before. But with her, skittish as she was, he would have to do something. Something that would kick-start their relationship without scaring her into self-destruction.
“This a trick question?”
“No.”
“Well, that would be saving their life. You do it once, and they belong to you forever.” Rowan shuddered, as if he had a few clingers he now regretted saving.
Sean nodded. “That makes sense.” However, he didn’t have the time to wait for real danger to strike. More than that, he didn’t like the thought of Gabby being in any sort of peril. A single scratch on that delectable body and he might kill someone.
“So . . . what are you thinking?” Rowan asked.
There was only one way to go about things, keeping Sean in control and Gabby safe. “We put Gabby in supposed danger, not for very long, of course, we don’t want her to self-destruct, and I rescue her. We can even create a mystery she can solve, like who wanted to hurt her, forcing her to tell me what she can do with computers.”
Slowly Rowan grinned. “How devious you are. Wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove. I like it.”
“Call Bill. See what he thinks. At this rate, a year could pass before she opens up enough to even go on a date with me.”
As they exited the highway, Rowan withdrew his cell and made the call. Sean tuned out his friend’s voice, concentrating instead on Gabby’s car. He wondered if she had the radio up, if she sang aloud to the songs. Her head was swaying from side to side, as if she was imagining herself dancing.
He liked the thought of her so relaxed and wished she would feel comfortable enough with him to simply enjoy herself like that. Soon, he thought.
“Bill’s a go,” Rowan said a short while later, closing his flip phone. “Says we can abduct both you and Gabby and you can whisk her to safety.”
Excellent. An abduction provided everything he needed: a frightening situation that would make them a team, an opportunity for him to showcase his rescue skills, a mystery—who had abducted them and why?—and a common enemy.
“Arrange it,” he said.
“Already in the works,” Rowan replied with a grin. “Bill thinks I’m a genius. Because I, of course, took credit for everything.”
Sean’s lips quirked. “Of course.”
“He thinks we’ll be ready to go as soon as next week. First he wants to find a place to store the two of you. A place that looks impenetrable and menacing but one you can escape without making her suspicious.”
“It should be somewhere remote, too, forcing us to spend a few nights alone as we make our way back to civilization.”
Rowan laughed. “Who says you aren’t a born seducer? Maybe when you guys return, she’ll be so in love with you, she’ll do anything you ask. Even work for Rose Briar.”
Maybe. Hopefully. He saved people with abilities like his own and protected those who didn’t, was well paid, and had friends who understood his differences and didn’t judge him. Gabby might not admit it, but she was in need of all of those things. Except . . .
“I don’t want her love,” he said. Love would only complicate matters. She’d want more than he could give and then, boom, he’d do exactly what he hoped to avoid: hurt her.
“That’s for the best, I suppose. Soon she’ll be firmly ensconced in Rose Briar, and too busy for you to be more than an afterthought.”
r /> Sean, nothing more to Gabby than an afterthought. He liked that even less than dealing with a woman in love.
“Now, when the time comes,” Rowan said, “I’ll sneak into Gabby’s house, knock her out, and—”
“I’ll handle Gabby.” There was no room for argument in Sean’s tone.
“If she sees you—”
“She won’t.”
“—everything will be ruined,” his friend continued anyway. “The entire plan will mean nothing. And besides, this way, you won’t have to lie to her. You will have done nothing wrong.”
“I’ll handle Gabby,” he repeated. And Gabby, well, she couldn’t hold any lies he told against him. After all, she’d lied to him about allowing him to escort her home. The little pretender hadn’t radiated a single pang of guilt, either. “Just so you know, if I don’t want to be spotted, I won’t be spotted.” He didn’t mention that he’d been inside Gabby’s apartment every night since meeting the woman. First time, he’d snuck inside to make sure her door locks were acceptable.
They hadn’t been.
Second time he’d visited her, he’d spent hours installing new locks, making sure her key still fit and that everything still looked the same.
Because some of the windows hadn’t had locks—someone had removed them and Sean was willing to bet it had been Gabby, easy escape and all that—he’d adhered them to their seals so that she, or anyone else, wouldn’t be able to open them. He’d placed a motion detector with remote access in her hallway. That way, he controlled when the device was turned on and off and knew every time someone set foot near her bedroom.
Third time, he’d told himself it was to make sure she hadn’t discovered his adjustments. He’d taken one look at her, as she lay so fitfully in bed, and admitted he’d been lying to himself. He liked looking at her. He liked being close enough to touch her.
The fourth night, he had touched her. He’d traced his fingertip along her jaw.
Fifth night, her lips had beckoned and he’d kissed her. A soft kiss, a simple meeting of their mouths. Again he’d tasted lemon and sugar, and had instantly hardened. The erection, though, he could have handled. But then she’d moaned, a sound so laden with need he’d had to leave before pouncing on her.
Later that same night, when he’d lain in bed and thought about what had almost transpired, he’d realized that more than kissing and touching her, he wanted to know everything about her. What she liked, what she didn’t like—in bed and out. If she remembered her time in captivity. What the last man in her life had been like. If she knew anything about her family, if she missed them. What snacks she preferred—after sex and before.
Maybe then, when he knew everything about her, this need he had for her, this protective, possessive obsession, would wane. He could reduce her to the same status as every other female he’d ever allowed himself: forgettable.
Temporary, as they both liked. As he needed.
His father was like him, a summoner of shadows, and had often warned him of the dangers of prolonged relationships. While summoners could handle the darkness, embrace it even, others could not. And the more time summoners spent with people, the more that darkness seeped into their partners, driving out their inner light. Driving them into madness.
He didn’t want that for Gabby. Which meant he could enjoy her for a little while. Only a little while. Once she was ensconced in Rose Briar, however, he would have to walk away from her. If she didn’t walk away from him first, that is.
A few minutes later, they reached Gabby’s home. Her real home. The building was a bit run-down, the red brick crumbling, but the wood trim was freshly painted and the pavement smooth.
There were eighteen cars in the side lot, and he scanned them. One of them, a sedan, had never been there before. There was a wet spot under the exhaust, as though it had been on for a prolonged period of time. That, in itself, wasn’t incriminating. But tinted as the windows were, no one but Sean would have been able to see the two men inside, one at the wheel and one in the passenger seat. See them he did. And that was incriminating.
It was nighttime, yet both men were wearing sunglasses. They also wore suit jackets. The kind cops wore to conceal their weapons.
“I think we’ve got an armed visitor,” he said as he parked.
“Where?” Rowan asked, looking around.
Rowan still couldn’t see past the shadows, but Sean didn’t want to send them away, alerting Gabby and the men to his presence. “Three o’clock.”
“Maybe their presence is unrelated to Gabby.”
“Maybe not. Either way, you gotta stay here, bro. Sorry. You can’t see through my shadows and we need them right now. We can’t allow anyone to spot us.” Amid his friend’s protests, Sean emerged. He commanded the shadows around the car to remain and summoned new ones to shield his body. They happily complied, whisking to him, wrapping around him, cool fingers caressing his skin. Only places they didn’t touch were his temples, where the tattoos resided.
He remained in place, enjoying their ministrations. This was where he belonged, where part of him longed to stay forever. The shadows loved him, worshiped him. He was their king, his commands their greatest pleasure.
But as he stood there, Gabby stepped from her car. The moment he spied that fall of silky brown hair, he remembered why he was here, what he needed to do. Ever watchful, she scanned the area. For a moment, their gazes locked together and his breath hitched. She couldn’t possibly see him. No one could.
She turned fully, stopped, reached out, then shook her head, mumbled something to herself, and turned again. Rather than move forward, she remained in place. She stiffened, her hands clenching at her sides. What was going on?
Finally, she leapt into motion, pounding up the steps and into her apartment. The door closed with a snap, and the slide of the lock soon echoed.
Sean worked his way to the mysterious car—but paused when he heard Gabby’s lock turn again, followed by the creak of her door. Footsteps rang out, and then she was barreling down the stairs. She was scowling—and she was holding a 9 mm.
Shock poured through him because she, too, was heading for the car. Armed as she was, he expected the men to speed away. That’s what any sane person would have done. Instead, they opened their doors and stood, shocking him further.
He looked them over but didn’t recognize them. The driver was five nine or ten, the passenger easily six one, putting him a little under Sean’s six three. And still, without the shield of metal, neither seemed fazed by Gabby’s gun.
Did she know them?
“Pervert,” she growled. “You should be in jail, rotting with other disgusting offenders.”
With her words, understanding dawned. Sean realized what had happened—and knew what was going to happen. The men were there for Gabby. Rather than attack her, frightening her, they’d put files they knew sickened her on a laptop to draw her to them.
Clearly, Gabby’s secret had been leaked.
Shit. Shit! He was on his own with this. Rowan, trapped in the car and darkness as he was, still had no idea what was going on.
“Hello, Gabrielle. I knew those files would get your attention,” the driver said with a grin.
Gabby stumbled, paled. “Wh-who are you?”
The passenger lifted his arm, his own weapon suddenly gleaming in the muted light. No, not a gun, but a tranq. Sean didn’t think; he simply acted. Rushing forward and withdrawing his SIG Sauer, silencer already attached, shadows holding him close, he fired.
Pop. Whiz.
The man grunted and fell as the driver whipped around. But it was too late. Sean had already adjusted his aim and fired a second round. This man fell, too, muscles spasming as his shoulder absorbed the bullet.
Still in motion, Sean sheathed his gun and grabbed the tranq that had been dropped. Gabby was rushing to the car to see what had happened and he met her halfway. A scream tore from her mouth as he jerked her into his body, and he hated himself for scaring her. Knew it w
as dangerous, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “So sorry.” And then he pressed the tranq into her neck and squeezed the trigger. Strong as the drugs inside were, the blood-brain barrier was immediately broken and she collapsed, sleeping deeply, and he hoped peacefully.
He swept her into his arms and held her close. Even though he knew she was safe now, his heart had yet to slow down. “Rowan,” he called. “You can come out now.” Mentally, Sean commanded the shadows enveloping the car to part.
Rowan jumped out, scanning, trying to take everything in at once. He sprinted over to the fallen men, both of whom were moaning and crying. “Sean? Where are you?”
Sean shooed the shadows away from him and Gabby with only a thought. “Here.”
“What the hell happened?” the agent demanded, staring wide-eyed at the carnage.
“I only wounded them, so you might want to disarm them before you allow yourself to be distracted.”
With a grunt, Rowan frisked them and tossed their weapons out of reach.
“They wanted Gabby,” Sean explained.
“Hired hands?”
“Probably.” Which meant, whoever wanted her was still out there.
“Shit,” Rowan said.
Yeah. That about covered it. “Get them in the car and take them in for medical care. Just make sure they’re under lock and guard at all times. I want to know what they know.”
“Consider it done.” Rowan scooped up one man, carried him to the Tahoe, deposited him, and then did the same to the other. Both continued moaning and crying, but only one tried to fight. Him, Rowan used the tranq on.
In the distance, Sean could hear sirens. Someone inside the building must have heard the screams or watched from their window and called the police. He settled back into the SUV, Gabby in his lap.