She didn’t talk much on the way back to her apartment, and as soon as I opened up her new door with all the security measures, she pushed inside and went right to her bedroom.
And now I was here, at five in the morning, wide awake after having three hours of sleep. My brain was on overdrive, my mind going over and over every piece of evidence we had on Garza. He shouldn’t have gotten bail. He should have been locked up and never let out again. But he was out. He was on the streets, and we had no idea what his next move was. An unpredictable man was a dangerous man.
I unlocked my cell and opened up my email to send an encrypted message to Brody, asking for an update. The secretiveness we had when I was undercover was no longer needed, but the security of our conversations was.
Rolling on the sofa, I gritted my teeth at the lumps pushing into my back. I’d told Belle I’d slept in worse places, but goddamn, this was one of the worst. I’d have been better making a pallet on the floor. In the end, I decided I wouldn’t be getting any more sleep, so I sat up to type out the rest of the message. I wanted an update on Garza’s last known location and details of any units which were following him. I needed a heads-up if he was nearby because I needed the time to be able to get Belle to safety if necessary.
I locked my cell, threw it down next to me, and leaned my head on the back of the sofa. The ceiling was an off-white, but I was sure it wasn’t meant to be that color on purpose. It hadn’t been updated in years, much like the door which had been replaced. The super of this building didn’t give two craps about the safety of the people living here, most of whom were college students.
Why the hell did Brody give the okay for Belle to live here in the first place? She could have stayed on campus and in the dorms where it was safer, but if she had been there, I wouldn’t have been able to stay with her.
My eyes drooped the longer I stared at the ceiling, and I could feel sleep overtake me just as a door closed and footsteps neared. I shot up off the sofa, knowing it was still dark outside because of how early it was. My hand was reaching for my gun, ready to confront whoever it was.
I widened my stance, waiting for the person to come into the living room, and then… “Belle?” I blinked and frowned, letting my hand drop beside me. “What are you doing up?” She wasn’t just awake, but she was fully dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a hoody.
“My shift at the shelter starts in thirty,” she answered, not looking at me as she moved into the kitchen. I stared at her, wondering how the hell she managed to get up after only a few hours’ sleep and look like she’d just slept a full eight hours. She turned to face me, her brow raised. “Well, are you going to get ready?”
“I…” I scraped my hand over my face and through my hair, trying to wake myself up. “Yeah.” I took two steps back and then shook my head. I’d known she volunteered at the shelter thanks to all the intel which had been gathered by other people, but I hadn’t realized she did shifts this early. This would be prime time for Garza to make his move—still dark, and early enough to go unnoticed.
I gathered my bag and stomped toward Belle’s bedroom. I’d been using her bathroom while I was here, but I didn’t take any of her room in as I walked through it and then into the bathroom. All I was thinking about was the need to switch up her usual schedule. If someone was watching her, then we needed to make them second-guess where she was and what she was doing. We had to keep them on their toes so we would be one step ahead of them and not on the back foot.
By the time I was changed into black jeans and a black T-shirt with my belt attached around my waist to hold my guns and a knife, Belle was waiting by the front door, her fingers flying over the screen of her cell. I didn’t say anything as I dropped my bag next to her sofa and grabbed my keys, wallet, and cell, then walked by her and opened the door. I kept my arm outstretched in a silent command to stay back while I checked the walkway and looked down into the lot. It was quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“Clear,” I told her, moving my arm and then closing the door behind me. The alarm would go into effect as soon as we were out of the apartment, and the door would be impossible to get past, so at least we knew no one would be coming in there who didn’t belong.
Belle’s footsteps followed behind me as we made it to the stairs, and once we were at the top, I glanced down, and then back at her. Her ears were bunched up to her shoulders, her gaze shifting left to right, but those two things were the only tell that she was nervous. An outsider wouldn’t have been able to spot those things, but I could. I’d trained to identify each and every movement of the body, to read its language so I didn’t need words to figure someone out. It was a natural thing for me to do, something I’d learned when I was a teenager on the streets.
I swallowed, my instincts kicking in and demanding I comfort her, but I couldn’t. I had to stay focused and make sure there wasn’t anyone out there wanting to take a cheap shot at us. Keeping on high alert, I maneuvered down the stairs and then to the car without a problem. Maybe I was being overly cautious, but I’d rather be too prepared than not prepared enough.
Once we were both in the car and I was pulling out of the lot, Belle seemed to relax. I had a feeling it was because she knew how safe this car was. It was a safe house on wheels, and I made sure to use it whenever I was away on an assignment. It wasn’t only bulletproof, but I’d also had Jord install equipment to block out any signal so my calls couldn’t be traced or listened to from inside it.
“Do you need the address?” Belle asked, and I turned to face her. My brow rose in silent response and she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. I don’t know why I asked.” The straight line of her lips told me she wasn’t happy about me knowing the ins and outs of her schedule, but neither was I. The only reason I knew was because Garza had gathered the intel on her. The one man who should have never even known about her.
“So…” I cleared my throat and relaxed my hand on the steering wheel, wanting to get my mind off the situation at hand. Being constantly reminded of the danger around you wasn’t good for anyone, especially when they weren’t used to high-pressure situations. It was starting to wear me down, so I had no doubt it was doing the same to Belle. “How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?”
I felt Belle’s arm on the center console, so close to mine but not actually touching. Was she aware of how one little movement would make our skin touch? Did she do it on purpose?
“Since freshman year,” she said, her voice small. “No one knows…well, no one did know, but I’m guessing Mom and Dad are aware now, huh?”
I cringed, not knowing what to say. “Yeah, they know.” I shifted in my seat and pulled to a stop at a red light. “Why did you keep it secret anyway? You have this whole life none of us knew about and—”
“I didn’t want you to know,” she interrupted, her gaze meeting mine. Her blue eyes swirled with an emotion I’d seen often in her mom’s eyes twenty years ago. She wanted to run, escape from the situation she was in, but I had no idea why Belle felt the need to do that too. She had a good life. She had two parents who loved and protected her. So why? Why did she create an entire life none of us knew about?
The light turned green, and I took a left turn, almost immediately coming into the lot of the shelter. Belle directed me toward the back of the building, and I pulled up directly outside the metal door.
Neither of us moved as I turned the engine off. The clock on the dash told me we were ten minutes early for her shift. Silence stretched between us, but I couldn’t hold my tongue. I couldn’t keep my question inside. “Why?” I asked, turning in my seat to face her. I leaned my arm over the top of the steering wheel, intent on giving her all of my attention.
“Why what?” Belle kept her gaze fixated out the windshield.
“Why didn’t you want us to know?”
The silence swirled around us, but I didn’t make a move to fill it. Over the years, I’d learned you had to give Belle time to think about what sh
e wanted to say. Everyone assumed because she talked so much that she was always ready to say anything, but it wasn’t the truth. It was when she stopped to think that you knew she cared.
“Because…” She huffed out a breath and turned to look at me. Her gaze flicked over my entire face before she finally met my eyes. “You all see me as Belle, the little girl who needs protecting. Baby Belle, Princess Belle. I’m the one you all need to make sure is okay, I’m the one you like to keep close, but it’s suffocating, Ford. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I’m twenty years old, and I had to fight tooth and nail to be able to attend this college, and it’s only five hours away. Do you have any idea the kind of offers I had?”
I shook my head because I didn’t. I’d been away more and more on undercover jobs these last few years. It seemed the older Belle got, the more assignments I was on. “No.”
“I had an offer from Stanford, Ford. Freakin’ Stanford. And you know what Dad said when I told him?” She laughed, but I could tell it wasn’t funny. It was the kind of laugh to mask the hurt you were feeling, and hearing it come out of Belle’s mouth sent goose bumps over my entire body. “He told me it was too far away and that the community college would do just fine.” She threw her hands up in the air. “The community college, for real?” Her nostrils flared. “But if Asher gets offers all over the country, I can guarantee Dad won’t say a word to him. And why is that? Because I’m a girl? Seriously?”
“He’s just tryin’ to look out for you, Belle. You’re his little girl, and it’s—”
“I’m not a little fuckin’ girl, Ford.” Her cheeks reddened, a blush spreading through her that once upon a time I found cute, but right then, sitting so close to her, I found it sexy.
Fuck.
I couldn’t find it sexy. I couldn’t think about her like that.
“I haven’t been a little girl since I lost my virginity to the captain of the football team when I was sixteen years old. I haven’t been a little girl since my dad taught me how to shoot a gun and hit my target.”
I swallowed, feeling my skin get hotter the longer she talked. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t comprehend all of her words, because all I could think about was that goddamn football player touching her. Feeling her soft skin against his palm and taking what she was willing to give him.
“I’m not a little girl, Ford. I’m a woman. A woman who knows her own mind, one who needs space from the people who treat her like she’s only ten years old.” She pulled in another deep breath. “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell them because they would have told me I didn’t need a job at the coffee shop, that I needed to focus on my studies and not volunteer at the local shelter. But I do need to do these things. I need to be independent. I need to be myself. I need to separate my life from the one I grew up in.”
I stared at her, really stared at her, and for the first time, I saw the woman she was talking about. I saw the fierceness in her eyes, the determination on her face, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching forward and placing my palm on her cheek.
“I get it,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb back and forth. “I get it more than you’ll ever know.” I pushed my long fingers into her hair. “I’ll always protect you, Belle. That goes without saying, but I’ll try to stop treating you like the little girl you used to be.” My gaze flicked down to her lips. I hadn’t looked at her like she was a little girl since I’d pressed my lips against hers. I’d stopped thinking of her as Belle, Brody’s daughter, since my tongue intertwined with hers. At that moment in the club, she’d become so much more than just Baby Belle, but it didn’t matter, because that was all it would ever be. One moment in time that would never be repeated.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she glanced at the back door to the shelter and then back at me. “We need to go inside now.”
“Okay,” I responded, my voice low. I was afraid to speak too loudly, afraid I’d say something I couldn’t take back.
“I want to introduce you to someone special,” Belle said, her face lighting up so much a grin spread on my face.
“Yeah?” I asked, rubbing the pad of my thumb on her cheek one final time and then pulling away. I couldn’t keep touching her like that, not when I was meant to be putting more distance between us.
“Yep.” She opened the door and sprung out of the car like a bouncy ball. I followed after her, glancing around the outside and then moving toward the door she was holding open.
The barks echoed off the concrete walls, but I noticed Belle’s shoulders drooping from the sound. She looked at home—like she belonged here—and as I followed her and she greeted first the cats and then a bird, I realized this was what she loved. Even if her dad told her to stop, she wouldn’t. She’d found her passion, but I wasn’t sure she was aware of it.
“This is her,” Belle announced, stopping in front of one of the crates. This dog was different from the rest, though. She waited patiently, her gaze never leaving Belle’s as she opened up the door and stepped inside. I didn’t follow her because I had a feeling I knew what this dog was, and me being inside this kennel with her right away wouldn’t go down well.
Belle got down onto her knees and opened her arms, and only then did the dog lunge forward and lick her entire face. Belle’s laugh echoed around us, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound. It was something I’d missed so much over the years because it was less and less frequent.
“This is Lottie,” Belle said, turning her and the dog so they were now both facing me. “I shouldn’t have favorites, but she’s my favorite.” She shrugged and then turned to stare at Lottie. “Although, sometimes, she looks at me like she has no idea what I’m saying and—”
“Sitz,” I commanded, my voice deep, and the dog immediately sat. Belle gasped, but I didn’t move my gaze from the dog who was waiting for my next order. “Platz.” Lottie stretched out on her front legs, getting as low down as she could.
“What the—”
“Hier.” I didn’t move from just outside the kennel as Lottie trotted toward me and halted at my feet. “Sitz. Braver hund.”
“Ford!” Belle rushed forward and stared at Lottie, then me in awe. “What the heck was that?”
“I had a feeling when I first saw her.” I knelt down and patted Lottie on the head. “But when you said it was like she didn’t understand you—”
“So I was talking the wrong language? What even was that?”
I chuckled and dipped my head back to look at Belle. “It was German.” I pushed my hand through Lottie’s short fur, then stood. “She’s a trained dog. Maybe army?”
Belle’s head swung from Lottie to me and then to Lottie again. “She’s…oh my god.”
“How did she end up here?” I frowned. I had a feeling Lottie was highly trained if her immediate response to my commands were anything to go by. She wasn’t out of shape, and her eyes looked clear as day. So how had she ended up in the shelter?
“She was wandering the streets about ten months ago. Her chip had been removed, and the blood was matted in her fur. It was like whoever had her didn’t want us to know.”
“Wow.” I grimaced as Belle’s eyes misted over. “I’m sure someone will take her, though. She’ll get a good home, right?”
“Right.” Belle stroked Lottie once more. “She has two months until the year is up and then…well, let’s just keep our fingers crossed.”
“Two months until what?” Belle stepped out of the kennel and closed it behind her but kept silent. She’d gone into her own little world, so as she wandered off between the rows of kennels, I stayed back a few steps behind her.
All of a sudden, she spun around, her lips spread into a wide grin. “You ready for feeding time?”
“Feeding time?” I asked.
“Feeding time,” she repeated, and just like that, the sadness that had been on her face disappeared, and the Belle I knew was present again. Whatever she was feeling had been pushed
down. I’d let it go for now, but not forever because I knew what pushing things down did to a person.
I knew better than most.
* * *
BELLE
Having a six-foot-four, broody man following you around campus wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, but the students barely seemed to notice Ford as he walked me to each of my classes and then stood in the back with his hands behind his back. I wasn’t sure if he was aware we could see a glimpse of his gun attached to his belt, but no one said anything to him. The professors and lecturers didn’t bat an eyelash at the sight of him, and part of me wondered if he’d already spoken to them—or maybe my dad had. Either way, Ford knew how intimidating he was being, and I couldn’t help but want to make his straight face crack a little.
If Ford was bored of standing and listening to my classes all day, he didn’t show it. I expected him to show at least a little relief when I told him literature was my last class of the day, but all he did was nod, walk me to my seat, and then head toward the back. One thing that helped having Ford with me was that I had been early to every class. I wasn’t sure if that was his plan, or just because students seemed to part ways so he could maneuver through.
I sat in my seat and then pulled out my notepad as several students got out their laptops. I’d tried to take notes on my laptop when I’d first started college two and a half years ago, but I’d failed miserably. You could never go wrong with a pen and piece of paper.
My skin buzzed, aware of Ford behind me, but I didn’t turn back. I was sure people were wondering who this guy was watching us all, but I didn’t want the attention. With attention came questions, and I refused to answer any. Here, I was just Belle. I didn’t need to be Belle, daughter of DEA agent. That had followed me throughout my entire school life, and I’d come here to get away from it, not to be haunted by it.
Torn Bond: Bonded Duet: Book One Page 8