In the Bodyguard's Arms

by Lisa Childs

  At the moment Teddie was concerned, too. “Where could he be?”

  Cole shrugged and suggested, “Maybe he stopped off at our place for a shower or change of clothes before going to the office.”

  That sounded reasonable. But then she remembered how Cooper had sounded on the phone and she shook her head. “Your boss sounded scared.”

  Cole snorted. “Cooper? Scared?”

  “Worried,” she amended. She was the one who was scared, her heart beating fast.

  Cole’s blue eyes darkened to navy, and he murmured, “Damn it...”

  “What is it?”

  He shrugged. “The Payne family has this weird premonition thing...” He shook his head. “I’m sure there’s nothing to it.”

  “But?”

  “Naw, I’m sure Manny’s fine,” he said as if trying to convince himself. “What reason could anyone have for going after Manny?”

  “To get to me,” she said. She had put him in danger. And if her obsessed stalker had any idea how she was falling for her bodyguard, he would have another reason for wanting him dead. Jealousy...

  Cole closed his eyes and cursed again. “I’ll get someone else to watch the door and I’ll go find him.”

  Before he could turn and walk away, she grasped his arm. “I’m going with you.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  But she pushed her way past him. “You can’t hold me here against my will,” she pointed out. “And I don’t want to be here.”

  Not without Manny.

  “This is a bad idea,” Cole warned her.

  She’d had quite a few of those lately. Making love with Manny...

  If something had happened to him, it was her fault. She had made him a target for the stalker.

  “You’re safe in the condo,” Cole persisted. “You need to stay here with the security system and all the perimeter bodyguards. Nobody can get to you here.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t stay here.” She didn’t care how safe it was. “I want to go with you and find Manny.”

  “I don’t know where to look for him,” Cole warned her.

  “Your place,” she said. “And the route to Payne Protection.”

  His eyes narrowed as he speculatively studied her face. Maybe he’d bought into the stereotype that models were stupid. The few models she’d met who had fit that stereotype hadn’t lasted long in the fashion business. They hadn’t had what it took to survive. Brains were as necessary as beauty in her business.

  Just like brains were as necessary as brawn to survive as a bodyguard. Manny was every bit as smart as he was muscular. He’d outmaneuvered the stalker more than once. Hopefully he had managed this time, as well. Because Teddie had the feeling his boss was right to be worried and so was his friend.

  The stalker had gone after Manny.

  * * *

  Manny had played chicken many times before. He had started as a kid, riding his bike head-on toward his brother. His brother had always veered first. Maybe that had just been because he was older and he hadn’t wanted to hurt Manny. But the other people with whom he’d played chicken hadn’t cared whether or not they’d hurt him. They’d been trying to protect themselves when they’d veered off first. Because they must have sensed there was no way he was going to veer.

  But Manny should have known better than to play chicken with a lunatic. He’d figured it was the only way to stop the crazy bastard. The problem was that the stalker wasn’t the only one who was going to get hurt.

  Manny had led him away from the city limits, though, to avoid anyone else getting caught between the SUV and the truck. He’d driven fast, but not so fast that he would lose him, toward the more rural area and winding roads closer to the Lake Michigan shoreline.

  He lost him once, on one of those sharp curves of road. But because he hadn’t wanted the stalker to double back around to the condo, Manny had executed a dangerous U-turn. The stalker must have followed him from the condo.

  How the hell had he known where it was?

  Who was this guy that it almost seemed as if he had inside information on the Payne Protection Agency? Or was it just on Teddie?

  The only person she’d talked to since he’d started protecting her had been her mother. So it didn’t make sense how he always knew where she was.

  Now Manny needed to know where the hell the stalker was. Then he saw the truck heading at him and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t doubled back. He was still intent on taking out Manny.

  Manny just had to take him out first.

  He could have tried shooting him. But driving as fast as they were, he needed both hands on the wheel. And at these speeds, it was too likely any bullet even Manny fired would miss. He couldn’t take the risk of the stalker getting away again—not like he had so many times before.

  Manny revved his engine as he headed straight toward the truck. The Payne Protection SUVs were special, with reinforced frames and metal. Because the bodyguards had been in so many crashes previously, their vehicles had been made to withstand them better now.

  But Manny wasn’t sure the SUVs had been tested in a head-on collision—until now. Because everyone else had always veered off, Manny had never been tested in a head-on collision, either. What was the trick to absorbing the impact?

  Being relaxed?

  He blew out a breath and let himself go limp even as he pushed harder on the accelerator. With resolve he stared straight ahead through the windshield. If only the guy would take off that damn mask.

  Even now he hung on to his disguise.

  And in those last seconds before impact, Manny closed his eyes. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was because even though this guy had terrorized Teddie, Manny didn’t want to watch him die.

  Metal crunched as the vehicles collided. The SUV spun around and around again, tires squealing even though Manny hadn’t applied the brakes. The axles must have broken because he had no control over the steering. The wheel spun loosely in his hands as the SUV spun around the road, then careened off and into the trees lining it.

  The second impact must have been what got him. Despite all the airbags springing out of the steering wheel and the doors, Manny hit his head on something.

  And everything went black.

  For just a moment, though, because Manny fought his way back to consciousness. Teddie needed him. She needed him to stop her stalker and give her back her life—whatever life she wanted to live now.

  Manny dragged his eyes open and stared around him. The windows looked like spiderwebs, shattered but intact. He couldn’t see through them, though. He needed to see if the stalker was coming for him. Or if Manny had finally stopped him for good.

  As a precaution he drew his weapon. Then he reached for the door handle. But the door was jammed against a tree. He couldn’t escape. So he moved toward the dash instead and kicked out the shattered glass. He climbed over the crumpled hood and hissing engine until his feet hit the ground.

  His legs were a little shaky but held his weight. Gun drawn, he swept the barrel around the area. A man rolled over from where he lay on the side of the street, next to the smashed-up truck.

  “Don’t move!” Manny shouted at him. But he kind of hoped he would so that he would have a reason to shoot him. How the hell had the guy survived the crash?

  Only the back of the truck was recognizable, the box the only thing intact.

  “Don’t shoot,” the man implored him. He was an elderly man—with white hair and a small, almost stooped build. He moved slowly, lurching to his feet.

  There was no way in hell that this man had overpowered and outrun Dane.

  Manny swept his barrel toward the truck. “Where is he? Where’s that driver?”

  “I was behind you guys,” the older man said. “I saw him jump out right before the crash, and I just managed not to hit him. Once
he got up, he opened my door and pulled me out. He stole my car.”

  Manny cursed. The son of a bitch had cheated in chicken. He had jumped out before the impact. If only Manny hadn’t closed his eyes...

  He cursed himself now.

  “Do you have a phone?” he asked—hopefully.

  He needed to warn the others. The stalker had nearly taken him out. Hell, he probably thought that he had. Now he had to be headed straight for Teddie.

  * * *

  If Manny wasn’t dead, he would probably kill Cole for letting Teddie out of the safety of the condo. But short of tying her up, he wasn’t sure how he would have been able to get her to stay.

  They’d already been to the attic apartment he shared with Manny. She had seemed unusually interested in where Manny lived. Even though it had been immediately apparent that he wasn’t there, she had looked around at the few possessions Manny owned, at the few mementos he’d kept. She’d run her fingertips over the dog tags he’d left sitting on the bureau in his room. She’d also touched the pillow on his unmade bed.

  The place, with its galley kitchen and small living room, probably hadn’t looked like much to her. Cole could have afforded better. But Manny couldn’t, not with as much money as he sent home to help his mother every month. Cole wondered why he bothered since she didn’t seem to appreciate it much. She never called or checked on him. She didn’t worry about him like his unit worried. Since Cole hadn’t wanted to hurt Manny’s pride, he had found a place they could rent that his friend could easily afford.

  He and Teddie were heading toward the offices of the Payne Protection Agency now. Cole glanced over to the passenger’s seat of the SUV, where Teddie had knotted her fingers together in her lap.

  “You’re really worried,” he mused.

  “Aren’t you?” she asked.

  He was. But he didn’t want her to know that. “Manny’s tough,” he told her. “He’s survived far worse than whatever your stalker might dish out.”

  She nodded. But he could tell she was not reassured.

  “He will be fine,” Cole insisted. This was Manny, after all. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

  And as if on cue, Cole’s cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and hit Accept and Speaker. “Cooper, we couldn’t find him.”

  “He just called in,” Cooper said. “He’s okay. But the stalker got away. He thinks he’s coming after Teddie. He wanted to make sure she’s safe in the condo.”

  A pang of guilt struck Cole. “She’s with me,” he replied.

  “I know,” Cooper said. “You took her out of the condo, so you better make damn certain she stays safe.”

  Or Manny would kill him.

  “We’re close to the office,” Cole assured him. “We’ll be there soon.”

  “Good,” Cooper said. “Then we can all share what we know and see if we can figure out this guy’s identity.” He disconnected the call.

  “So Manny’s okay,” Teddie said on a shuddery breath of relief.

  Cole nodded. “See, I told you he’s tough.” Tougher even than Cole had realized, since Manny had survived another run-in with her stalker. The guy had nearly killed Dane, and Dane was the most invincible one of them all.

  But Manny had extra motivation to stay alive now. Teddie. He was determined to keep her safe, and Cole doubted it was just because she was a client. She was more to Manny. And because of that, Cole never should have let her leave the safety of the condo. Manny might never forgive him if something happened to her.

  Cole kept an eye on the rearview mirror, watching for anyone tailing them. But he’d been careful. Still, he breathed his own sigh of relief as he pulled the SUV into the parking lot of the Payne Protection Agency. He had made it to the office without losing their client. After shutting off the engine, he stepped out.

  But as he walked around the SUV to her side of the vehicle, something—like a baseball bat—struck him across the backs of his knees, knocking his legs from beneath him. He fell, hitting the pavement hard. His head bounced off the asphalt and black spots blurred his vision.

  From where he lay, he couldn’t see anything. He could only hear Teddie’s scream.

  Yeah, Manny was going to kill him.

  Chapter 18

  If only she’d moved faster...

  Teddie might have been able to warn Cole about the man who’d sprung from the shadows between two SUVs. She might have been able to lock her door to stop him from grabbing her and dragging her from the SUV.

  She’d placed her hand on the door, but instinct had her opening it to rush to Cole’s aid. He was down. The man in the mask had whacked him hard with a bat. She had no idea how badly Cole was hurt.

  Ignoring the pain of her still-sore throat, she screamed again, trying to draw attention. They were so close to the brick building with the sign on the side of it for The Payne Protection Agency. She kicked and swung out, fighting off Cole’s attacker.

  Her stalker.

  He wore a mask again, one of those ski masks that hid his entire head except for his eyes. But she couldn’t see his eyes. Her back was to him, his arms wrapped around her torso as he dragged her toward a van parked near the parking-lot exit. He carried her through the open side door and pulled it closed behind him. Dropping her onto the bare metal floor, he jumped into the driver’s seat and gunned the engine.

  As he careened out of the lot, Teddie rolled across the back and struck the metal side of the cargo van. Pain radiated from her elbow up her arm. Her hand went numb, but she shook it off. She had to escape now before he got her off somewhere alone.

  Because she knew then she would have no chance of escaping. No chance for survival.

  She had to get away. Now.

  But the van took another sharp turn and she rolled again. This time she caught herself against the metal side and used it to get to her feet. This was the side of the van with the door, and her hands gripped the handle.

  She jerked it open and stared down at the asphalt. The van was moving fast. But she had no choice. If she didn’t get away now, she wouldn’t have another chance. Before she could jump, a hand caught her arm. The van slowed and swerved as the driver twisted in his seat to hold on to her.

  He was strong, his fingers squeezing her arm painfully. He was nearly as desperate to hang on to her as she was to escape him. But with his attention divided between gripping her and driving, she was able to jerk free.

  And as she did, she tumbled out of the van. Just like she’d rolled across the cargo area of the van, she rolled across the street. The asphalt tore at her clothes and scraped her hands and her cheek. She cried out at the pain.

  Brakes and tires squealed as the van abruptly stopped in the middle of the road. Metal creaked as the driver’s door opened. He was coming after her again.

  Her hands stinging and raw from the scrapes, she pushed herself to her feet and took off running. She had outrun him once—in the park in New York. But he had caught her in the woods up north.

  She couldn’t let him catch her this time.

  Ignoring the burning feeling in her legs, she ran as fast as she could. She headed across a parking lot toward a row of tall buildings. She could hear footsteps pounding against the ground behind her as he pursued her. She could also hear horns honking as other drivers protested his leaving the van in the middle of the street.

  Panting for breath, lungs burning like her legs, she continued to run. She couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t give up. She dodged between two tall brick buildings, hoping she’d found an alley. But another building blocked the end of it. She was trapped.

  If she turned around, he would catch her on the way back out. So she needed to hide. Maybe he wouldn’t find her. She crawled into a small space between a rusted metal Dumpster and a brick wall. Her back pressed against the building and her breasts pushed against the metal as she continued t
o pant for breath.

  The air was putrid near the Dumpster, thick with the scent of rotting food and urine. She grimaced and tried not to breathe now. She couldn’t give away her location.

  Because she was no longer alone.

  She could hear the scrape of shoes against the asphalt. He must have seen where she’d run. But maybe he wouldn’t be able to see where she was hiding. The tall buildings cast deep shadows in the alley, so there was little light. Now there was even less as a dark shadow fell across her.

  Then a big hand touched her arm. She held on to the rusted metal of the Dumpster, so he wouldn’t be able to drag her from her hiding place—like he had from the SUV.

  She didn’t know if anyone, in the buildings or on the street, would be able to hear her, but she screamed. Straining her still-injured lungs and throat, she screamed as loudly as she could. But she doubted, even if anyone heard her, that help would arrive in time to save her.

  * * *

  Her scream rang in Manny’s ears as he reached out for her again. She had tugged free of his light grip on her arm.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” he said, her fear causing a twinge of pain in his heart. He hated seeing her like this, so full of terror. He hated feeling it nearly as much, and he had been so afraid for her. “He’s gone.”

  She turned toward him, as much as she could in her hiding place, and her green eyes widened in surprise as she stared up at him. He pulled the Dumpster away from the wall, astonished that she had squeezed into such a narrow space.

  Teddie scrambled out and threw her arms around his neck. He winced when she pressed against ribs he hadn’t even realized he’d bruised until then. But he didn’t care about the pain. He didn’t give a damn about himself.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, gently tipping her face up to his. One of her cheeks was red and scraped, as were her arms and her knees through her torn jeans. Pride surged through him that she had fought so hard to escape her stalker.

  But she shouldn’t have had to fight. It was the Payne Protection Agency’s job to keep her safe from harm. And once again they had failed her.