Strike Fear (Hawk Elite Security Book 2)

by Beth Rhodes

  “Don’t. It’s part of my job.”

  She nodded. “Sleep well, then.”

  Leaving him there, she walked back to her room.

  He had a job to do, one he was getting paid for…

  With a sigh, she closed her door with a quiet click. Moving in here had been a huge step toward independence for her. But when it came right down to it, she wondered if she needed to pack a bag and move back in with her dad tomorrow.

  One step forward, two steps back.

  Liz looked around at the room she’d barely made her own. The straight back chair in the corner and the bed with a borrowed comforter on it, plus one little chest of drawers. The hardwood floors were cold under her feet.

  Cold.

  Just like her.

  ***

  She looked for clues, wanting to protect the ones who mattered.

  After her boys were released, she’d watched them for any sign they might get caught up in something unhealthy. There’d been one girl with an eye on Nick, but then he’d broken things off with her anyway, so she’d set aside the worry. Gabriel was a concern because he was looking for permission to leave the county and go to his dad. But he’d said he wanted to bring his dad back here.

  Letting them go was hard to do, so she was glad he wouldn’t be leaving for good.

  And now she had a way… the most exhilarating of resolutions.

  Looking out through the windows, which covered the side of the library, her heart ached a little. She could fix things and make them better for everyone.

  And she would start with this one.

  Her gaze fell back to her iPad, a gift from her kids, and took in the pretty blonde hair and the blue eyes—like the other one. She swiped through the article, reading the headline, Another Victim of Sexual Assault Comes Forward. Reading through the article revealed that the accused, a young man from Ohio, had been going to school here for the past two years. Top of his class. From an affluent African American family.

  Her frown deepened. They could be black, brown, yellow, or red. Color meant nothing to her. His life would never be the same. That girl had altered it with her lies.

  Susan Griggs. Susan. She should really apologize and make it better. If she took it back… made it better. This was something she could do. With a little research, she’d find the girl and make it right.

  With a sigh, she looked up and found the coffee shop mostly empty. Ten oh-five. She began the systematic process of packing her things. The last bus would be coming by soon. Best to be out and ready to go.

  Otherwise, she’d be in trouble again.

  That wouldn’t be any good.

  She smiled at the thought and then waved when the barista called out his goodbye.

  ***

  As midnight rolled around, Tan surfed through the channels one more time.

  He was having the hardest time sleeping. It wasn’t the couch. No. The woman obviously came from high end amenities, specifically furniture. Yet after seeing the photos on the wall in the stairwell, he’d been surprised by how plain the apartment felt. Nothing gave tribute to the colorful personality he’d seen in this woman since they first met.

  Not even a colorful throw pillow on the couch. The only piece on the wall was a small framed family photo taken years ago.

  His brain tortured him until finally he got up and pulled on a jacket. He went downstairs and out the back door to his truck in the alley. He opened the back and took out his computer bag. Might as well do something useful.

  Locking up, he took the stairs two at a time to the kitchen. He turned on the light above the sink and then sat at the table. He powered up the laptop, turned on his hotspot, and dug into the files designated with her name. It was easy to open the secure browser and start searching through media databases and national most-wanted lists. Malcolm had given them all the basics they needed in order to take care of these more menial tasks.

  Over the years, Tan had been surprised by his ability to find information on any individual. As a matter of fact, since their IT training, he’d gone even further off the grid, shutting down some of his less useful and hardly-used social media outlets. He’d deactivated any accounts hooked up to his banking…

  He’d turned into a freak—to put it bluntly. But he didn’t care. At least he didn’t have an underground bunker with canned goods and an arsenal. And it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the technology. The team had often used their technology to find a person. GPS was a godsend.

  Moderation. He’d learned moderation through his experience with Hawk Elite.

  His list began. Gabriel Sands. The ex. Adding competition, he started again with opponents. Jealousy. Rivals.

  Friends.

  The police wanted to chalk up the break-in to robbery. He couldn’t get the feeling out of his gut, though. And it wouldn’t hurt to keep digging.

  At a sound from down the hallway, Tan stopped reading, stopped typing, and listened.

  He got up and, crossing into the hallway, turned on the light. He stood outside her door. Soft muffled sounds, like crying, had him tapping on the door. Silence answered him so he turned the knob, knocking again as he pushed.

  “Are you okay?” Liz asked him in a confused, sleep-induced groggy voice. “Do you need something?”

  Tan hesitated.

  She seemed fine. Maybe she talked in her sleep.

  “I was checking up on you. You were making noise in your sleep.”

  Liz rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t slept yet.”

  “Oh.” She laid back down. “Well, okay. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  She nodded, her eyes already shut again.

  He closed the door with a whisper of sound.

  “Never been so fucking awkward around a client, asshole.” He put aside the work for tomorrow and forced himself back to the living room. “Sleep,” he demanded as he pounded a fist into the pillow and found a comfortable spot on the couch. It was like he could hear every breath she took through the walls. Every rustle of the blankets. Every creak of the bed as she rolled over.

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  And then he counted sheep.

  Seriously. Anything…

  He came awake instantly at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Soft padded footfalls crossed in front of the living room door. And, as if she’d turned on all the lights, the apartment glowed. But it wasn’t lighting.

  It was morning.

  Through his curls, he scratched his scalp and then he stretched his legs and sat up. Holy moly, he’d finally slept and slept six hours straight through. Standing, he did his usual stretching exercises, touching his toes and moving his joints, breathing deeply. Then he sat on the floor and started in on the hundred sit ups and hundred push-ups. On the last one, he tucked his feet under him and stood.

  Liz watched him from the doorway, her eyebrow raised. “Are you showing off?”

  Heat rose on his neck. “No. Just morning rituals.” He slid by her and went down the hallway to the bathroom.

  “Do you drink coffee?” she asked before he closed the door.

  “No, thank you.” He used the toilet and then ran the water, washing his hands and face. He patted himself dry with the towel hanging behind him. He changed back into jeans and pulled a new shirt over his head.

  Again, he was struck by the white walls, plain tiles, and nothing of décor to speak of...

  He shook his head. Why?

  In the kitchen, she had made coffee for herself and sat with another bowl of cereal.

  Seeing her like this reminded him he needed to keep his distance, needed to remember the reason he was here.

  She’d been brutally attacked in the past and now the man who had beat her was free.

  Didn’t matter that he liked her—her determination, her strength, her irreverent snark—or thought she was pretty. She was damaged.

  Everything in her li
fe screamed at him to take it easy on her. Kid gloves.

  It would do no good to allow any kind of attachment or connection.

  ~ 8 ~

  “I don’t care what it costs,” Mr. Whitney bellowed. “If Elizabeth needs twenty-four hour guards, she’s going to get them until we find the dickhead responsible.”

  “Oh, Dad,” Liz said, sounding a tad like an amused, tolerant child.

  “Sir, you have nothing to worry about.” Tan looked from Liz to her father. “Hawk Elite is capable of putting together a team, if that’s what we need. Her shop could use some updating—a panic button, better locks, and the back door could do with a peep hole, and…” he hesitated. “It’s pricier, but coded entry.”

  “Which your company installs, of course.” Despite their night together, she was back to her sarcasm.

  Oddly enough, he liked it. “Of, course.”

  The urge to make excuses and outline the company mission, which included duty, honor, and who-gives-a-flying-leap-about-the-bottom-line set his teeth on edge.

  Brett waved off his daughter. “Stand down, dear. I pay him because he’s the best. Why don’t you go find us something to drink?”

  She opened her mouth, a flash of indignation in her eyes, but her dad’s even darker look put her off. “Yes, sir.”

  When she closed the paneled door behind her, Brett gestured to the seat across from his desk. “Have a seat if you like, Tan.”

  “Let’s get whatever it is you want to say without Liz hearing out in the open, Brett.” Tan didn’t like to beat around the bush.

  The man walked to the window, stared out at the spanning side lawn of the estate. “Elizabeth is strong. Stubborn. She’s like her grandmother, and she won’t like having a bodyguard.”

  “Hawk Elite is always discreet.”

  The man shook his head. “Undoubtedly.” He hesitated, and Tan wondered if he was going to have to drag whatever it was out of him.

  “She doesn’t like your type.”

  Tan almost laughed, cleared his throat. “We don’t have to like each other.”

  “She can be skittish around big, strong men.”

  The man must be crazy. She had five brothers, all of whom were big and strong. And she’d taken him down, hadn’t she? His balls tensed at the memory. Skittish? “Last night’s attack notwithstanding, she does seem to know how to take care of herself, sir.”

  “When she was twenty-two, Gabriel Sands beat her, left her for dead. Broke her leg. The bastard shouldn’t be out of prison, not in this lifetime, not ever.”

  “I’ve read the reports sir. And I understand your concern.” He forced his brain to reconcile the spoiled woman he’d met yesterday with a victim. He saw her shaking hands on the cup at the table last night. He remembered the panic in her eyes.

  But he couldn’t get the strong out of his head. She was strong. She got what she wanted, even in the short time they’d known each other. Admirable.

  “…you’re a professional. I expect you’ll remember that.”

  Tan tuned back in, tilted his head at the warning. “Elizabeth is safe with Hawk Elite.”

  He never messed with a client in any way. And he would never hurt her. When he was on a job, his entire focus was the job. “That’s a promise.”

  He would pretend there was honor in his statement, but he’d also known too many women intent on bringing a man down. Liz might be appealing—that had become obvious—but she was not the one to make him give up his deep-seated belief he was better off alone.

  A door opened with a swoosh, air brushing the back of his neck, and closed with a bang. Liz breezed in with as much never-may-care as he expected from royalty. Oh, sure, her back was up. She was not happy about being sent out. He’d bet a million she’d be even less happy her father had spoken on her behalf. But pride could be a dangerous trait. And he liked having the story from all sides. So hearing her dad’s version of events filled in another blank.

  “Your drinks, gentlemen? Iced tea?”

  “Thank you,” he answered, tilting his head. She had a mischievous look about her.

  The left side of her face had the raw look of a job well-done, if she’d been a fighter. She moved stiffly, favoring her right side. But her smile was pure training in etiquette and social refinement. Her eyes gave her away.

  He took one of the three glasses from the tray she held out, eyeing her with a due amount of suspicion when she waited for him to sip. With a glance into the glass, he hid his grin and drank the entire glass in one long, slow drag…to make a point, to play her game and let her know he wasn’t a fool.

  When her brow lifted and he actually caught a glint of humor in those green eyes, he sighed off the last sip. “Now, that was amazing.”

  He carefully placed the glass back on the tray.

  “Thank you, dear.” Brett added, reaching for the second glass. “The cold can really dehydrate a man.”

  Before she looked to her father, Tan saw her brow lift a mere fraction and challenge him. He was thoroughly mesmerized by her playfulness. Then her gaze fell to the last remaining drink. She picked up the glass with one hand, held it up to the light, and peered through it. “Oh, dear. Looks like there’s a gnat in this one. I better take this back to the kitchen.”

  She disappeared as quickly as she’d come.

  Tan rubbed a hand over his smile and choked back an unexpected laugh. Follow through. He didn’t believe for a second she’d put something in any of the drinks.

  Brett was all business when Tan turned and finally sat in the chair opposite the desk.

  “I don’t have an official report from the police yet, but in my estimation, there was more to the break in than petty thievery. This isn’t some high-traffic retail shop where money changes hands at a fast pace. We’re talking customized orders sold at prices most people would pull out their plastic for. Despite the trinkets and gifty items, her drawer had less than fifty dollars in it. The flower shop down the road probably brings in more than ten times that amount every day.”

  He leaned forward in the seat and rested his elbows on the arms. “I’m going to take the next few days to look into this, coordinate with the police to find out who did it. Maybe I’m wrong. If it was a plain old robbery, we’ll go from there and extend her store security measures. If your daughter is as skittish as you believe, you should convince her to stay here for a little while, a week or two.”

  “She won’t.” Brett stood. “Oh, she knows I worry. Hell, she was probably more than a little worried herself after last night, but work drives her. As does her her independence. She won’t give it up so easily—long term.”

  “Two to three weeks is hardly long term.”

  “Long enough after her experiences.”

  Frustration ate at Tan. Despite wanting her to have the best security systems in place, having a twenty-four hour detail on guard duty was expensive and intrusive. “What about her brothers?”

  The door behind him opened again. “What about my brothers?”

  Liz sat a tall glass of tea on the corner of the desk.

  “We’re discussing protection for you.”

  The look she gave her dad had the man squirming. “It’s for the best, Elizabeth. Until we take care of this problem.”

  She didn’t answer, and it was like Tan could see the wheels turning in her head. Liz rubbed a hand over her hair and her fingers lingered where he’d applied the bandage last night. After a thoughtful pause—he really wanted to know what was going through her head—she shrugged. “Fine. Who’s going to come and babysit me?”

  ***

  There was no one. Liz knew it.

  By the look on her dad’s face, so did he. “You should stay here—”

  “I have my work. This is my busiest season, not to mention the Expo coming up in March. I can’t leave my shop right now.”

  Tan sat back as she and her dad faced off, making her want to scowl in his direction. He’d instigated this. Her dad would never disrupt her life over
a protection detail. “Michael is on the road. He’s the hockey player,” she added for Tan’s benefit. “Andrew’s wife had a baby three weeks ago. Paul has business, the team in Charlotte, and his furniture shop.”

  “Jay can come stay with you.”

  “No—”

  “It’s Jay or your new best friend here, Tancredo.”

  She hesitated. Dang it. Her Irish twin, her most annoyingly protective…. Of all her brothers, Jay was—He was hard to get along with for extended periods of time.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs, her lungs, her very soul. First she’d been a slave to the skate, and then a slave to fear. When her career as a skater ended because of the attack, she’d promised being isolated would never happen again. She would not be a prisoner.

  Liz glanced over at her only alternative to family—Tancredo. He’d been tolerant and kind so far. But he was still a stranger, and there was an edge to him, one that made her think he disapproved of her. And the way he called her princess with a subtle sneer… “I’ll call Jay.”

  Her dad grinned.

  “He might not agree, you know.” A small part of her hoped. “And he has classes during the day.”

  “You’ll have someone with you when he’s not.” Tan added, and even he seemed relieved because she’d chosen Jay. “But even with your brother there, we’ll have one of our agents doing a drive by every hour or so.”

  She blinked back the surge of emotion threatening to spill over. “How long will this last?”

  Tan hesitated, giving his answer some thought. “As long as it takes to figure out why someone attacked you last night and if it’s going to happen again.”

  Biting her lip, she turned away from the two men now in charge of her life—again.

  “It’s for the best, honey.”

  “I know.” Her heart fell at the admission. “I don’t have to like it, though.”

  ***

  Liz pulled into the parking spot behind her shop and shut off her car. When her phone gave its quiet text alert, she dug through her purse.

  Thanks for last night. Had a great time…

  With a frown, she typed in a reply.

  You have the wrong #