by Tara Thomas
“I don’t see how,” he finally said, confirming her thoughts.
She sighed and reached for her purse. “I’m going to call him one more time. Tell him I’m standing on the street and I don’t see it. If you’ll excuse me.”
She turned around to make her call, but before she could fish her phone out her purse, a hand tightened around her throat. She threw a punch, but only hit air.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
She couldn’t figure out where the ticking sound was coming from. Maybe it was a result of the lack of oxygen reaching her body. Maybe it the sound of her heart. Or maybe it’s what you heard in the seconds before death.
“Now, now,” said the voice that moments ago was agreeing with her assessment on directions. “Is this how you want to treat someone who’s just giving you a warning?”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“Tick. Tick. Tick. How much time do you have left?”
Still, she struggled against the arms that held her tight, catching a glimpse of a watch. Was that a monkey on the dial or was she seeing things? Who are you? She tried to ask, but his hand had effectively cut off her ability to talk. He was behind her, so she couldn’t see him. She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything about him so she could tell the police later.
Oh God, there would be a later, wouldn’t there?
He was dragging her into an alley and she was defenseless to stop him. She made her body as limp as possible, hoping that would slow him down enough that someone would see him. But he was strong and carried her as if she weighed nothing at all.
“You’ve been snooping where you don’t belong. Stay out of affairs that don’t concern you and stay away from Knox or the next time, I’ll kill him. And tell Tilly that she’s next.”
She opened her eyes just in time to see the brick wall in front of her seconds before he knocked her head against it and everything went black.
* * *
Tom’s phone rang and he answered, curious as to why The Gentleman would call out of the blue. “Hello, sir.”
“Tom,” he replied, and then as expected, launched right into the purpose of the call. He never bothered to thank anyone for stopping whatever they were doing to talk. After all, if The Gentleman had your phone number, it was automatically assumed you’d do whatever was necessary to take his call. “I have a new facet of your assignment to tell you about.”
If anyone else had used the word “facet” in describing his job, Tom would have laughed at them. But somehow it didn’t sound ridiculous when The Gentleman said it. “I look forward to hearing what you have in store for me.”
“Smith Brothers put out feelers for new protection agents.”
Tom didn’t see how that related to him unless he was being taken off of Bea’s case. Fuck. He wasn’t being taken off, was he? “Sir?”
“Knox Benedict has requested protection detail for Bea Jacobs. I took the liberty of sending over your resume and it would appear that you are the most qualified applicant.”
Tom couldn’t hold back a chuckle at The Gentleman’s brilliance. “When do I start?”
“I’ll have Smith call you to confirm.”
Tom had done protective detail before and knew that working in such a capacity for Bea would not be easy. He’d have to disguise his voice to ensure she didn’t recognize him. Plus, he’d have to wear a suit jacket to cover his watch. Not wearing the timepiece wasn’t an option. It was a priceless, one-of-a-kind antique, but more than that, it was a souvenir he’d taken from his first kill. The watchband was the original leather, but it was the face that was so unique. The best way to describe it was an optical illusion as everyone saw something different when they looked at it. He rarely took it off. It was a bit fantastical on his part, but he thought himself invincible with it on. “Thank you, sir.”
“You will ensure she feels completely safe and secure, all the while looking for the best time and place to take her out. Failure of any kind will not be tolerated.”
Tom squared his shoulders. Someone was going to die. It wouldn’t be him. “I understand, sir.”
* * *
When Bea got back to her father’s house after work the next day, he was sitting in the living room. That wasn’t a good sign. She’d been hoping that while she stayed with him, they could just pretend the other person wasn’t there. They had done it in the past, with varying degrees of success. Why had he decided today, of all days, to have a conversation with her?
“Where were you?” he asked. She’d barely made it into the room. “I thought you said you’d be working from home most days you were here?”
She’d told him that because she knew she’d be too scared to go into the office and she had planned to work from home most days. “I had to pick something up.” She didn’t mention that it was a bodyguard, or that he was parked outside right this second.
“You sure it didn’t have anything to do with that Benedict guy?”
She didn’t hesitate long, but it was enough for him to pick up on.
He gave a heavy sigh that she translated as, “Lord, why have You burdened me with such a daughter as this?”
“Is that all? Because I have some work to do.”
“I know you’re aware that everything you do reflects on me. It’s true always, but even more so when you’re living under my roof.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Watch your language, Beatrice.”
“Watch my language? Seriously? I’m twenty-nine, or have you forgotten?”
“How could I forget a daughter who turned her back on everything I taught her to go the way of the world? Who found it more important to chase the almighty dollar than to settle down and find a Godly man and serve him?” He spoke in what she called his preacher voice, which always meant trouble. “And even worse, who wants to go to Washington and that corrupt den of inequity?”
“You think I do what I do for money? I help people every day. A lot more than if I stayed at home pushing out babies. Nothing I’ve ever done is enough for you and I stopped trying to make you proud a long time ago.” They were true words, but deep inside, she still had that basic need for parental approval. She’d had it from her mom when she was alive and she knew her mother did her best to both provide the encouragement she never got from her dad, as well as shield her from his more hateful words. Unfortunately, since her death, she thought her dad had gotten worse.
“There has already been talk of you being seen in public with one of those Benedict boys.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Now I can’t be seen in public with half the population of the world?”
“Of course not,” her father said like that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “You just can’t be alone with them.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous,” she said. With that, she stormed out of the room.”
“And watch your language,” he yelled after her.
* * *
Even though the following weeks were quiet, Bea never went a few hours without thinking about the threats against her. How could she, with Tom following her everywhere? She didn’t like him and he was much too quiet. Of course, that sounded ridiculous when she thought about it and she knew she’d hate it more if he chatted all the time. The truth was, she didn’t like him because he was a constant reminder that someone wanted her dead.
Her resolve to stay away from Knox was tested her second night in her father’s house. She woke in a sweat, gasping for air, and her hand at her throat, fighting off an attacker who wasn’t there. She forced down a scream as the final shadows of the nightmare left.
No way was she going to scream in her dad’s house. He was the last person she wanted to know about her nightmares. Since that was the case, she couldn’t wander around the house with the television blaring and every light in the place on as well. Which is what she normally did after a nightmare.
Without thinking twice, sh
e grabbed her phone and called the one person she wanted to talk to.
“Bea?” Knox asked, picking up on the second ring. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Just hearing his voice calmed her. But it wasn’t enough. She needed to feel his arms around her, holding her tight, while he whispered that everything would be okay. “I had a nightmare,” she said softly.
“Can I come over?” he asked in a pained voice, probably because he knew what the answer would be.
She couldn’t tell him no, not when she wanted him so bad. Instead she replied with, “My dad.”
“Damn it, Bea. I can’t stand knowing you’re so upset and not be able to hold you.”
She closed her eyes as if doing so would make her immune to the anguish in his voice. “Just stay on the phone and talk to me. Please.” It wasn’t fair of her to ask him. Not when she’d pushed him away at every opportunity. But she didn’t care. She needed him.
“Like you could make me hang up,” he said and she appreciated that he tried to make his voice light and carefree.
She wasn’t sure how long they talked about nothing at all. She must have dozed off because she woke with a start and saw that it was after five.
“Bea?” Knox asked.
She picked up the phone. “You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?”
She told herself she wouldn’t call him again like that in the middle of the night.
The next time it started with her phone ringing.
She grabbed it and answered, not recognizing the number. “Hello?”
“Hello,” a very business-sounding woman replied, speaking over a lot of background noise. “I need to speak with Bea Jacobs.”
“This is Bea.” She stuck her finger in her ear in order to hear over the noise.
“Bea, this is Barbara Eastman at the Medical University of South Carolina. Your husband was brought in about an hour ago.”
Fear washed over her. “Knox? Is he okay? What happened?”
Already she was picking up her keys and on her way out of her father’s house.
“We’ll fill you once you arrive, but right now, he’s stable.”
She gave a quick prayer of thanks and drove to the hospital as quickly as she could. What the hell had happened to Knox? She conjured up one crazy scenario after another before reminding herself that he was okay. Or at least stable.
She pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and made her way to the front desk. Knox was still in the Emergency Department and she saw why the woman who called her had so much background noise. The place was swarming with activity.
She gave her name to the clerk, but was too anxious to sit and wait to be called. After what seemed like forever, but had only been five minutes according to her watch, someone appeared to walk her back.
Knox was sitting up in his hospital bed telling the staff he was fine and to let them go home. He looked up in surprise. “Bea? What are you doing here?”
The fact that he asked meant he hadn’t asked for her. That realization hurt her more than she was prepared to admit. “I was getting ready to ask you the same question.”
“I asked first.”
She rolled her eyes, but she could handle it, because that meant he was okay. “The hospital called me. You must have me listed as your next of kin.”
“Right,” he said. “I had to do that when you were in the hospital so they would let me in.”
I shouldn’t have to remind you how vulnerable your husband is.
It was so loud in her head, it woke her up from yet another nightmare.
This time she didn’t even think about doing anything other than calling him. She reached for her phone and dialed his number. The feeling that the dream was somehow a premonition wouldn’t leave her alone. What if he was in the hospital right now?
“Bea?” he asked on the first ring just like last time.
“You’re in danger,” she said. “And it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The man who attacked me. The one who keeps sending me threats. He told me to stay away from you and every time I’ve seen you since, after you leave I’ll get a reminder. You have to be careful or else you’ll get hurt. Don’t you see? They warned me. It’s my fault.”
“Stop it right there.” Knox sounded angry, but she really couldn’t blame him. “That does not make any of this your fault. It’s the fault of the person who attacked you.”
She swallowed. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Have you told the police?”
“No. They told me not to.” And what good would it do? They hadn’t been able to find the person anyway.
“Wait a minute. Is that why you kicked me out of your hospital room when you were attacked and you kept telling me to stay away from you?”
She shouldn’t admit to it. In admitting that she’d kept her distance to earn the trust of a psychopath would do nothing to keep him away. Now, if he thought he could handle it, he’d be over all the time. She was too weak to turn him away and that would only serve to put him in more danger.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he said. “Your silence already did. But why would they want to keep us apart? It makes no sense.”
“I know what he said before he told me to stay away from you.”
“There’s more?” he asked.
“He said, ‘You need to keep away from things that aren’t your concern.’ He said that right before he said to stay away from you.”
“He must have been warning me off the case you gave me concerning Tilly’s dad.”
It made perfect sense. Ban her from working a case as well as not allowing her to be in contact with the person who gave it to her.
“You may have a point there,” Knox admitted. “Does this mean you’re going to stop working on the case?”
Honestly, for him to ask that made him look as if he didn’t know her at all. “No way am I stopping. The only reason he wants me to stay away is probably because there’s something there. I’m not giving it up. I’m going to work on it harder.”
* * *
Work went better and she didn’t have any panic attacks. Once or twice she wished the senior partner wasn’t out of town so he could see how well she was functioning. She counted it a victory when she went the whole week without a panic attack.
She worked from home on Friday, mainly because she’d invited Knox over to look at some information she’d found on Mr. Brock. Her father was on a church retreat with several members of his congregation, which meant, if she wanted to, she could invite Knox to spend the night. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit how badly she wanted him.
Lord, her father would die if he knew Knox was spending the night, but she’d yet to tell him they were married. That would go over even worse. She knew she’d tell him eventually, but she had enough going on without having to deal with him.
She found she was actually able to get a bit of work done first thing in the morning, but as the day went on, she found her thoughts wondering more and more toward Knox. By mid-morning, she gave up all pretense of working.
He told her earlier in the week that he’d see her around one, so when her father’s doorbell rang a little after eleven, she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.
“I couldn’t wait another hour to see you,” he said almost apologetically when she opened the door.
Truthfully, he looked so good standing there. His hands in his jean pockets, his dirty blond hair tousled slightly by the wind, and those captivating, almost golden eyes all three of the Benedict brothers had. He was the best-looking man she’d ever seen and he was hers.
“Thank God,” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him inside. For a fleeting second she had the thought that she should look around to make sure they weren’t being watched, but she dismissed it quickly, thinking the only people watching were probably her father’s nosy neighb
ors. The worst thing that would probably happen is they’d tell her dad. She figured she’d worry about that later.
Once she had him inside, he closed the door with his foot and took her face in his hands, pulling her close for a kiss. Her knees went weak as she pressed him to the door. They both moaned and their kiss deepened.
Desire and need she’d fought to deny for weeks rose within her, refusing to be ignored for a second longer. Knox obviously felt the same. His hands were urgent, as if he had to touch her everywhere. No, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t merely touching her, he was claiming her once more as his. With his lips and his hands; his kiss and his touch.
How had she thought for even a second that she could live without this? Without this man? Foolishness, she now knew. Nothing but foolishness. She would never do it again.
Some small voice in her head whispered they should move out of the foyer. It wasn’t a large space, but it had two large windows and anyone walking by could see them. Especially Tom, keeping watch on the street. But Knox being in the room seemed to drown out that voice.
Knox took a step back only to whisper in her ear, “I know you want to talk about what you found concerning Mr. Brock, but I have to be honest. That man and his doings of eight years ago are the last things on my mind at the moment.”
“Prove it,” she whispered back, rocking her hips so they brushed his erection.
He groaned. “Keep that up and we won’t ever get to Mr. Brock.”
She batted her lashes, enjoying being able to tease him again. “Promises. Promises.”
“Tell me before I do something crazy like strip you naked and have my way with you in the foyer. Is your father home, and if not, will he be home anytime soon?”
She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip. “He’s at a church retreat. All weekend. Won’t be back until Sunday night.”
“He’s going to be gone on a Sunday morning? Is that even legal for a minister?”
“Can we not talk about my dad?” she asked. “Because it kinda kills the mood.”
“I’ll never mention him again. Ever.” He even held his hand up as if he were taking a pledge.