Her Secret Bodyguard

by Misha Crews

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The hospital was a tall pillar of white with the words "Medical Center" blazoned across the top in blue. The lobby was spacious and clean, done in a beach-colors motif: the carpeted floors were the color of sand, with tile walkways the color of ocean rocks bisecting the seating areas. The well-filtered air was cool, and curiously free of odors of any kind.

  That morning, Blake had finally called Steve for more specific instructions on where to go to see Rube. She'd given herself a few days to rest, holed up in the obscene comfort of her hotel room. The bruises on her skin were starting to fade, but her heart still felt like it had taken a violent and recent beating.

  As she'd been instructed, Blake went to the main counter in the lobby and asked to see the security office. She was directed to the right room, where she showed her ID, and the Security Chief himself escorted her up to see Rube.

  The hospital was a typical maze: up one elevator, along a corridor, turn left, turn right, into another elevator and up several more floors. By the time she got to the room, Blake was convinced that Rube was completely safe: no one would have been able to find him without a guide.

  If that weren't enough, there were two men in suits sitting in chairs outside his door. The Security Chief told them she was cleared to go in. They checked her ID, then waved her through.

  Rube was sitting up in bed, a brightly-colored hospital gown barely covering his muscular shoulders. He seemed smaller, as if he'd shrunk with his injuries. His left shoulder was bulky with bandages, and his arm was in a sling. There was a remote control in his right hand and he was frowning at the TV.

  But when he saw her standing in the doorway, his whole face lit up.

  "Blake."

  The moment he said her name, she knew that things between them were going to be all right. He dropped the remote and held out his hand. She rushed forward and grasped it, her two hands practically disappearing into his one. "Hi Rube." She smiled, almost shyly.

  "Hey gorgeous." His dark, probing eyes took in her bruised face and battered spirit. He spoke softly. "How you been?"

  Her smile felt as wobbly as her legs. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I guess I've been better," she told him. "How about you?"

  "Same." He grinned. "I've been better."

  She nodded to bandaged arm. "Are you feeling okay?"

  He moved his shoulder gingerly. "They dug the bullet out, repaired the damage and now it's healing. What else can I say?"

  "You're not in too much pain?"

  "Not too much." Never one for small talk, Rube bypassed the rest of the niceties and plunged straight in to the meat of the conversation. "Listen babe, you probably know this already, but I never – never – meant to put you in danger."

  Blake wanted to tell him that it was all okay, but the words wouldn't come. In truth, it wasn't okay. But neither was it all his fault. She swallowed hard and spoke as directly as she could. "I buried my head in the sand for the last ten years, not allowing myself to confront what was going on. I could have spoken up, I could have walked away. But I didn't. In some ways, I'm as responsible for what happened as you are."

  He laughed once, a hard, bright sound that filled the room like a clap of thunder. "You're too much, you know that? I appreciate the sentiment, dollface, but we both know that the weight of this thing rests squarely on me. I'm the criminal scumbag here, not you."

  "You're not a scumbag!" she protested loudly. "How dare you say that? You're a great guy."

  "Who also happens to be a criminal scumbag." He grinned and held up his hand as she started to contradict him again. "Don't worry about it, okay? We're miles past that now. I'm moving on to parts unknown, and who knows who I'll turn out to be in the end?"

  She squeezed his hand. "I know. They're going to put you in protective custody and give you a new identity." She felt tears threatening behind her eyes. "I honestly didn't want to come here today because I don't think I'm ready to say good-bye to you."

  "Hey, come here." He enfolded her in his good arm, and she went willingly, letting her head rest against his shoulder, her weight sagging against him, feeling the strength that had supported her for so many years.

  It had been a long time since he'd held her close like this. Their relationship had never been about physical affection. Rube had always told her that it was too difficult to hold her and to know that he could never love her the way he wanted to. But that didn't matter anymore. Blake felt hot tears swell in her eyes drop onto his shoulder. "Thank you," she managed to say. "Thank you so much for supporting me, and for being my friend. You've meant everything to me, you know that."

  "And you've meant everything to me, honey. You've been the light at the end of every tunnel I've gotten myself into. I don't know what I would have done without you."

  Blake's chest hitched with a sob that she was not able to control.

  "Oh, come on, none of that, okay?" Rube's own voice was rough with unshed tears.

  "But Rube, how are we supposed to get through this? You're going away. I may never see you again."

  "Hey, one thing I know is that you will definitely see me again. We may not be able to predict when or where, but we'll see each other again." His voice caught. "I want to meet your kids someday."

  She sat up and looked at him through teary eyes. "What?"

  "You heard me." His expression were full of deep sadness. "Kids. Children. I may not have been able to give them to you, but I definitely want to see yours."

  She shook her head. "I don't know…."

  He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Come on, with your genes? If nothing else, you owe it to humanity to reproduce."

  She caught her hand in his and ignored his attempted joke. "What are you talking about?"

  His face took on the patient, lecturing expression that she knew so well. "You know very well what I'm talking about," he told her. Then he added, "Caleb."

  Blake stiffened. "I haven't seen him since the morning after you got shot. I'm sure he's gone by now."

  "Then go after him."

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  She stood up and went to the wide window on the other side of the room. The drapes were drawn, probably for security, but she moved one aside and peered out. The city was stretched out in front of her like a carpet woven out of concrete. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable talking to you about this."

  "Well I'm not sure I care." Rube spoke with the casual insolence of someone who had known her for a long time. "Honey, I have seen a lot of evil men in my time. I've known killers and kidnappers and con artists, people to whom human life is just something else that can be bought, sold and traded. I know how to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys, and believe me, Caleb is one of the good guys." Even from where she stood, Blake could hear him grit his teeth, as if the words he said next brought him an emotional pain to match the physical. "I know I only saw you two together for a short time, but it's obvious that you guys are head over heels for each other."

  Blake let the drapery fall back into place. "But he lied to me, Rube. I'll never be sure if I can trust him."

  "Are you kidding? The guy tried to take a bullet for you!"

  "It was his job."

  Rube shook his head. "You are way more than a job to him. Trust me on that."

  She did. And with his words, Blake could feel her confidence come surging back. She remembered the tenderness in Caleb's eyes, the soft touch of his calloused hands. She remembered the way they had laughed together. He loved her. She knew it in her heart.

  Happiness was within her grasp. All she had to do was reach out and take it.

  And Rube, who knew her so well, could see what she was thinking. He smiled. "I may not know much," he said, "but I do know this: Caleb McKenna is the guy for you. So go get him."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Blake's little red convertible had never flown so fast along the highway. Cars with less resolute drivers seemed to stand still as she z
ipped from one lane to the next, darting between trucks and automobiles with a firefly's nimble speed. Blaring horns marked her way but for the most part, she ignored them. When she did respond it was only to flash a dazzling smile before she called, "I'm on my way to the man I love!"

  She took a fast right off of Franklin and swung into a parking space with a squeal of brakes. She hopped out of the car, dashed up the walkway and gave a quick wave to the manager as she passed the front desk. She was halfway up the stairs, taking them two at a time, when the desk clerk called out, "Miss!"

  She turned and gave him her sweetest but least patient smile. "Yes?"

  "If you're looking for Mr. Caleb, he checked out."

  Her heart plummeted through the floor, and she came slowly back down the stairs. "Checked out?" she asked, her voice low. "When?"

  "Just this morning. We were sorry to see him go."

  "Do you…you don't have any idea where he was heading, do you?"

  The clerk gave her a sympathetic look that she tried to ignore. "No, miss, I'm sorry to say that I don't."

  Blake's exit from the motel was considerably slower than her entrance into it. Once outside, she lifted her face to the sky. The sunshine was less bright and friendly than it had only a moment ago. Now the light seemed sharp, and cold. High overhead, an airplane was passing. It was so far away it was barely a dot in the sky.

  She forced herself to shake off the sudden chill. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number of Steve's agency. When she heard his voice on the other end, she didn't bother to say hello.

  "Where is he?" she demanded. "Where has he gone?"

  "Blake." Steve said. His voice was heavy with resignation. "I had a feeling you might be calling me."

  "Well, you must be psychic. Congratulations," she said sarcastically. "So, where is he?"

  "I wish I knew." He sighed. "Caleb called me late last night. He thanked me for the check I'd sent him, and said that he was going to hit the road. I asked if he was heading home, and he said he didn't know. Then he said good-bye."

  "That's it?" Blake asked, disbelieving.

  "I did try to convince him to stay on for awhile, but he said he'd had enough of the city. He needed to be on the road for awhile, to get his head together."

  "So he could be anywhere. Is what you're telling me?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Well, I'm going to find him."

  "Good." Steve didn't sound like he had much faith in the possibility.

  "You don't believe I can do it?"

  "Caleb once told me that he thought you could lasso the moon if you put your mind to it. So, yeah, I believe it's possible. I just don't imagine it will be very easy."

  "Easy is for losers," she said. She layered her voice thickly with scorn to try to cover the panic in her heart.

  But Steve didn't seem to mind. "Well, you're definitely not that," he said. His voice was dry, but not unfriendly. For a moment, Blake almost believed that she could grow to like him. "When you find Caleb, tell him that he owes me ten bucks."

  Blake disconnected the phone slowly. She glanced up again. The Hollywood sign rested crookedly on its hill, looking down at her with a benign indifference. She thought about how many hopeless souls it had seen walking these very same streets that she was standing on. She imagined the countless highways and byways that Caleb could be travelling on right now. How was she supposed to find him?

  Then she shook her head in annoyance at herself. What was she doing? Giving up? That wasn't like her.

  She looked at her watch. It was barely eleven in the morning. He had been gone for hours, yes. He could be hundreds of miles away by now, yes. But they loved each other, and they belonged together, and she was going to find him. Yes, yes, and yes.

  Blake gripped her keys resolutely and started for her car. What she needed was a plan of action, a list of places Caleb might go, people he might get in touch with. In short, she needed to get ready to stalk the poor guy. All in a good cause, of course.

  Her stomach rumbled, stopping her in her tracks. What she needed first, she decided, was breakfast.

  The 101 Coffee Shop was across the street, and that was as good a place as any to strategize. Besides, maybe that cute waitress had some idea where Caleb had gone. Surely he must have told somebody something.

  She was halfway across the street before she realized that Caleb's motorcycle was parked in the coffee shop's parking lot.

  Her heart lurched, and she stopped in the crosswalk, feeling the blood drain out of her head and into her feet. He's still here, she thought numbly.

  A car horn blared, making her jump.

  The light had changed, and a taxi was sitting with its bumper inches from her thigh, the driver gesturing impatiently. She turned and looked at him, not seeing him, seeing only an image of Caleb dancing in her mind. Her expression changed from blank to luminous.

  He's still here! The thought was a triumphant cry inside her heart.

  At her glowing smile, driver stopped gesturing, and instead gave her a tentative grin. Probably thinking that he was about to line up a hot date, he rolled down the window and leaned out. But his romantic hopes were quickly dashed as Blake bounded across the remainder of the street and hopped up onto the curb.

  Outside the front door of the coffee shop, she caught her breath and tried to compose herself, barely noticing the screech of tires as the taxi driver sped off.

  He's still here, she thought again.

  She reached for the door handle, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass she stopped. Oh God, she looked awful. She was wearing her oldest pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. She had no makeup on, and her face was still covered with scratches and bruises. Her eyes were hollowed out with lack of sleep.

  Some glamour gal, she thought disgustedly. Pushing her hesitation aside and summoning her courage, she lifted her chin and walked into the restaurant.

  The place was quiet today. The breakfast rush was over, and the lunch rush had yet to start. Blake spotted Caleb at a booth in the back – the same one they had commandeered only a few nights ago. Her heart beat hard at the sight of him. He was reading a paper, his head bent. His eyes shone very green in the dimness, and his hair looked scruffier than ever.

  She felt her feet carrying her across the room, was aware of her knees bending and her body sliding in across from him. But it wasn't until he looked up, until his eyes met hers, until his face flooded with love, that she was able to speak.

  "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" she blurted peevishly. "Running away?"

  Oh, nice going, girl, she thought. Open mouth, insert foot.

  He didn't say anything, just folded his paper and set it aside. She took a breath and started again.

  "I mean – hi," she said. "Fancy meeting you here." She tried giving him an engaging grin, and was rewarded by a slight twitch of his lips.

  Okay, she had his attention. Time to do some fancy verbal footwork.

  "I was afraid you'd left." Her voice was low. "I looked for you at the hotel, and they said you had checked out early this morning. I thought you'd be a hundred miles away by now, and that it would take me a year to track you down."

  Caleb sipped his coffee and finally deigned to speak. "So you decided to drown your sorrows in syrup?" he asked.

  Blake blinked. "What?"

  "You thought I was gone, so you came over here to have breakfast?"

  "No, I – I saw your bike in the parking lot."

  He gave her a knowing look, and she spluttered on. "I mean, I was hungry, sure, but it's not like I said, 'Oh, the man I love is gone forever, I think I'll have some French toast!'"

  Caleb snapped to attention. "The man you what?"

  She met his gaze levelly. "The man I love," she said. Then she grinned. "You got a problem with that?"

  Dina arrived at the table, forestalling Caleb's response. She was carrying an overflowing plate in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. She set it down in front of C
aleb with a solid thunk, refilled his cup without being asked, then turned to Blake. "Would you like to see a menu?" she asked.

  Blake didn't take her eyes off Caleb. "No thanks," she said. "I know exactly what I want."

  Dina pulled the pencil from behind her ear and stood waiting, order pad poised. "What can I getcha?"

  Blake started to speak, but Caleb quickly stopped her. "She'll have what I'm having," he said. There was challenge in his eyes and a grin on his face.

  Blake looked down at his plate. Sure enough, it was fully loaded: pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese, sausage patties and bacon. She swallowed. The man surely did drive a hard bargain.

  She shook her head. "I just can't do it," she said softly. Then she looked up again and grinned. "I'll need extra bacon."

  Dina stared at her for a moment, then shook her head and jotted on the pad. "Wonders never cease," she murmured. She stuffed the pad in her pocket. "You want coffee?"

  "Absolutely," Blake said. As Dina started to walk away, Blake turned and called, "Extra cream and sugar!"

  Then she turned back to find Caleb shaking his head. "You sure know how to call a man's bluff," he said.

  "Don't I, though?" Blake reached over and grabbed a sausage patty off his plate with her bare fingers. He didn't object, just watched as she stuffed it in her mouth. "Delicious," she said. She wiped her fingers on a napkin. "I can just feel the cellulite forming on my thighs."

  "There are worse things in life than cellulite," Caleb told her, reaching for his knife and fork. "So what's all this love nonsense, anyway?"

  "It's not nonsense," she said. "We're in love. You know it, and I know it."

  He cut a little triangle of pancake, speared it with his fork and handed it to her. She ate it solemnly, then handed the fork back. "So why'd you run?" she asked him.

  He looked up. "Who says I ran? Don't you see me sitting right here?"

  "You checked out this morning, you told Steve you were hitting the road."

  "I did hit the road. Then I came back."

  "What?"

  He sighed. "There I was, out on the open highway. I was heading for Mexico. Haven't been there in a long time, and I wondered if it had changed much since I'd seen it last. But before I knew it, I found myself on an exit ramp, then suddenly I was back on the highway, heading in the other direction. Heading back to you."