Cowboy Bodyguard: Brotherhood Protectors World

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Cowboy Bodyguard: Brotherhood Protectors World Page 4

by KL Donn


  Picking up the phone, I give Duke a call. “Hey man, how’s it going?” he answers.

  “Monroe is different,” I respond, blowing out a breath.

  “I’m not surprised. She hardly spoke two words to me yesterday, and when she would, that mother of hers would talk right over her. You got my emails, I take it?”

  “Yeah. Look, the more I check into this, the more I believe the mother is behind it all. And Claire is the one who insisted on hiring us.”

  “Makes sense. What do you need me to do?”

  “Can you look further into Helen’s background? Military deep-dive. See if you find anything about Monroe’s father too. Maybe he has information we can’t dig up.” I find it hard to believe that a father could just abandon his daughter so effortlessly.

  “I can do that. Anything else?” He waits as I stare out the window at the girl quickly taking over my life.

  “Honestly, man, I’m not sure. I caught her this morning slicing her cheek open with a small pair of scissors.” That still bothers me.

  “What the fuck?”

  “She said, nobody would want her if she wasn’t pretty,” I tell him, and I fucking get it. She’s been a piece of meat almost her entire life.

  “Jesus Christ. She needs anything, Shaw, say the word, and we’ll help however we can.” His incredulity matches mine.

  “Thanks. I’m going to go talk with her, see if she can shed some light on these messages. If I can get her away from that damn cow of mine.” Duke chuckles as he hangs up the phone. Nobody understands why I saved the mammoth. I can’t do anything with her, and she’s noisy as hell, but I’ve grown fond of the beast.

  Picking up the files with the copies of the notes, threats, and images I’m willing to bet Monroe has no idea were taken, I head outside. Pleased when I pass through the kitchen to see she ate something this morning, at least.

  Stepping onto the porch, Monroe is sitting on the ground facing Marilyn and faintly humming. How fucking odd that they share the same damn name. When I gave it to Mari, it was only because there’d been a tabloid about Marilyn Monroe in the gas station that I stopped at on the way home that day.

  Fate. I can hear my mom’s voice whispering through my mind. The crazy old bird would tell me it is written in the stars that Monroe and I share such an odd commonality.

  Maybe she’d be right, maybe she’d be wrong.

  I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of it once she learns about Monroe.

  “Hey,” I call softly, and both of them turn to look at me. Monroe spins around on her ass, leaning against the post, giving me her complete attention. “You up for some questions?” She shrugs.

  Sitting in front of her, I lift her legs and drape them over mine. I don’t like the idea of being so close and not touching her. Even in a simply innocent way.

  “I’m sorry I stormed off this morning.” She looks up at me, her face a mask of indifference. If not for the flicker in her gaze, I’d think she doesn’t care one way or the other. “I spent a lot of years fighting for our country's freedom. Learning that someone I care about has endured a lifetime of dictation isn’t an easy pill to swallow.”

  She nods again. And I have to force back my anger.

  Not at her, but at why she behaves this way.

  “Tell me something, Monroe.”

  “Tell you what?” Her eyes lift as her fingers play with the blades of grass next to her hips.

  “Anything you want.” I need to get her to open up to me, and so far, she’s been harder to crack than any safe I’ve heard of.

  Braving a quick look over her shoulder, she whispers, “I like your cow.”

  Huffing a short laugh, I say, “Yeah, I figured that out. What else?”

  “I really wanted to eat that bacon this morning.” Her chin wobbles, and I want to pull her into my chest, but I get the feeling she’ll clam up again if I do.

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask her instead, already knowing I’m going to hate the damn answer.

  She worries her bottom lip between her teeth before saying to me, “I could hear my mother in my head, yelling about how fat I would get. I could feel the beating she gave me when I was nine and gained ten pounds. I could feel the dizziness of so many days being starved because I would look at a pastry.”

  My throat is thick with volatile emotion as Monroe confesses to her imprisonment. Because that’s exactly what her life has become. Prison.

  Curling my fingers along her jaw, I tilt her head, growing angrier by the minute as I see her struggling to keep tears from falling. Likely terrified of another reprimand.

  “Baby, listen to me.” Her glossy gaze meets mine. “This is your life. You are free to do as you wish, and so long as you’re here, I will protect you from anyone that tries to stop you.” I know she won’t believe me at this point. It’ll take time. Something I have plenty of.

  Monroe

  I’m suffocating. My whole life, I’ve been forced into a box filled with rules and expectations, and when they weren’t adhered to, punishment ensued. I’ve never shared the instances of beatings and starvation with anyone. None of it. And now that they're out there, I can’t take them back, and I feel like I can’t breathe again. My tragic life has been exposed, and all the dirty secrets I’ve kept hidden from the world will come to light.

  I can feel myself hyperventilating. The constrictor that is so often around my throat is tightening with every new breath I take.

  Shaw drags me into his lap as I claw at my neck, trying to free myself from the invisible force stealing the air from my lungs.

  “Hey, hey, you have to calm down, Monroe. Concentrate on my voice, listen to my heartbeat. Close your eyes and count.” His hand presses my head to his chest, and the thudding beat of his robust heart rhythm forces me to focus on something else.

  Slowly, I begin to feel myself breathing in sync with his inhalations. With each breath comes a steady thump of his heart, and I’m finally under control again. Panic attack averted but embarrassment, full steam ahead.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’.”

  Closing my eyes, I relax into Shaw’s hold. Accepting that he won’t let anything bad happen to me is easy. Trusting in the knowledge that I can be myself, explore who I am, is harder.

  “I’m going to ask you something, Monroe. I only want you to answer if you can be completely honest with me.”

  I tilt my head up to look at him; his heartbeat is still keeping me calm as I nod.

  “If given the choice to break free of your life in California, would you want that? To start over somewhere new, where everything is completely of your choosing?” The steadfast look in his gaze says he’ll make it happen if I say yes.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate on my breathing before I respond, “Yes.” Because that’s precisely what I want. I would rather not return home. I’m not a Barbie, and I’m tired of that life. I have been for years. But every time I tried to express my displeasure, I was punished. Then this stalker showed up, and over the last year, the threats have gotten worse, and I haven't had much choice.

  Shaw’s mouth brushes a kiss along my head, and I’m reminded of the way he made me feel this morning. The way my body buzzed with anticipation. A feeling I never thought I’d experience again. One I want to repeat over and over. With him.

  “You’re safe here, Monroe.” His fingers tilt my chin up, and before I can open my eyes, I feel his lips on mine again, and everything floats away. The worry and panic are gone, replaced with lust and desire.

  For the first time in my life, I want to explore my body with a man. I want to find out what the big deal is that makes all the girls lose their minds over boys.

  The trouble with Shaw is, he’s more liable to steal my heart.

  Before I jump in headfirst at the first choice I am getting to make in my life, I have to figure out if I’ll be able to continue on without him once he’s no longer protecting me.

  “Stop thinking
so hard.” I can feel his smile against my lips.

  “Could we do this more?” I barely breathe the words past my lips, terrified of the rejection.

  So when he says, “We can do it as often as you like,” I sigh with relief and melt further into him.

  For the rest of the morning, we sit with Marilyn, so she’s not lonely. Shaw asks me questions about my life and who I think would want to hurt me, and we kiss until we’re both breathless.

  By the time a vehicle can be heard rumbling into the driveway, I’m so relaxed that when the panic over my mother and stalker bombards me, I pass out with the swiftness of my fear.

  Shaw

  At the vehicle coming down the road that leads to my ranch, I can see that it’s Rita’s red jeep, and so I don’t move. What I don’t expect is for Monroe to freeze with terror then pass out in my lap. Checking her pulse, I can feel that she’s fine, but her mind is so fucked up.

  “I’m back!” I hear Rita call, and as she roams around back, likely having seen us making out like teenagers as she pulled up, she drops the bags in her hands at Monroe's state and runs over. “Is she alright?”

  “Yeah. She’s got a lot going on in her mind, and if I had to guess, it’s because of her mother.” If I weren’t such a good guy, I’d kill the fucking bitch.

  “She’s gone, right? Back to whatever hole she crawled out of?” Rita’s always been a mother hen to anyone she views as wounded. And Monroe is as wounded as they come.

  “Yeah, I told her she wasn’t allowed back here. Hopefully, she listens.” Carrying Monroe inside, I head to my office where I have paperwork waiting for me and a couch for the sleeping beauty in my arms to rest on.

  Laying her down, I carefully remove her shoes before grabbing the afghan off the back of the sofa and placing it over her body. Stepping back, I watch her sleep for a moment, wondering how often she gets a full night of peaceful rest.

  I know that last night, she was pacing around her room most of the time, and then she woke up this morning with the asinine plan to scar herself. Scrubbing a hand down my face, my scruffy beard scrapes my palm, and frustration begins to eat at me.

  I have never messed around with someone I was protecting before, and I don’t intend to begin now. I need to figure out who is after Monroe before I can begin to find out how she feels about exploring this connection between us.

  Sitting behind my desk, I pull up the spreadsheet I need for the steers the ranch is selling next week. When I moved to Eagle Rock and bought this ranch from an old man looking to retire, I inherited his entire livestock as well as his clients. Most of his cattle have been sold for meat and some of the heifers and bulls for breeding.

  I’m working at selling them all off in the next year or two, so I can run a therapy ranch. The main focus will be horses that accommodate individuals with special needs that wouldn’t be able to ride just any old mare. I’m also including smaller livestock too. Goats, llamas, and pigs will be separate for those who are interested in learning about them.

  Now that I know how soothing Marilyn is to Monroe, she’ll be staying as well. I doubt that I was going to sell her to begin with.

  It’s going to be a while before the ranch opens because I need specially trained horses that I make sure are a good fit with my visions. But I’ve spent a long-ass time saving for this, and my parents have even invested, helping me to make it a success. And with a solid plan in place, I know that one day, it will be.

  If I can convince Monroe to give me a chance, I think she’ll be an essential part of it too.

  After arranging for the cattle to be picked up late next week, I get back to looking through Monroe’s file as I wait on the email from Duke about her father.

  As tight-lipped as she has been so far, I worry that there is something even more tragic that happened in her past. Not much shocks me anymore, but after all I’ve learned about how competitive the pageant circuit is, I get the feeling that I might be soon enough.

  “I wanted to go to the salon so I could change my hair.” Monroe’s soft voice has my eyes lifting to see her watching me.

  Staring at her blonde locks, I frown, not understanding. “Why?”

  “Blondes win more. I haven’t seen my natural color since I was five.” Is that even legal?

  “What if I can get someone to come out here?” I really don’t want to take her into town. Eagle Rock may not be large to some, but it’s big enough that she just might be recognized.

  “I’d really appreciate it.” She sits up, still looking a little pale, and crosses her legs. I watch her for a few minutes, and I think it makes her uncomfortable because she squirms and finally says, “Fear consumed me when I heard the vehicle. I don’t even know why. Half the time, I don’t make sense to myself, and I can’t stop my response.”

  “You had a panic attack.” She nods. “You know that’s okay, right? You won’t be punished for having feelings here.” She nods again, but I don’t think she gets it. Not really.

  Monroe

  Rita left almost as soon as another woman showed up, who I learned is a hairdresser in Billings and is used to working on delicate hair like mine. Mindy—it took a few minutes of her chattering to learn her name—was ecstatic to work on my blonde locks.

  For as long as I have been dying it, I wasn’t shocked when she told me we wouldn’t be able to strip the bleach out. We'd have to dye over it. It’s not what I initially wanted, but as long as I’m no longer blonde, I don’t particularly care.

  Shaw has been in his office doing paperwork, making phone calls, and I have no idea what else, so it’s just been Mindy and me for hours. She talks as much as any of the stylists in the pageant, too. Hairstyling is her calling.

  “I remember when you won the Miss California title, you were so beautiful.” And on top of it all, she absolutely knows who I am. Shaw made her sign a non-disclosure agreement as soon as she squealed her delight. “Those other girls never stood a chance.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble. I’m glad to have her do my hair. She’s nice enough, but I’d rather pluck out my eyebrows than talk about my life.

  “What brings you to Montana?” My gaze flicks up to meet hers as she works on the front of my head.

  I answer without thought. “Shaw.” I want it to be true. I think I’d travel anywhere to see him. Be near him. When I first arrived, the land lifted a weight off my shoulders, but from his first touch, Shaw breathed life into me.

  “He is a fine specimen.” I blush at her comment. “If Hollywood only knew what they were missing with your little escapade.”

  I have to bite my tongue before I beg her to keep her silence. I know she signed the contract, but if she thinks there is a secret to be told and money could be involved, people will do anything. Experience has taught me that.

  Needing to change the subject, I ask her about Billings and what her favorite things to do in the state are. Her smile falters for a second, but she rolls with it and soon tells me all about the national parks, the wildlife. Mindy swears there is no prettier sunset than a Montana mountain one.

  “Have you ever been horseback riding?” she asks. I pause.

  “No. The animals are huge. It’s almost terrifying.” The mere thought of it makes me want to run.

  “Well, if you plan to keep a ranchman, you’ll need to learn. I bet you’d look gorgeous up on a sweet mare.” Her smile as she wraps plastic around my head to keep the hair off my shoulders is magnificent.

  “Do you spend a lot of time with horses?” I must admit to being intrigued. I’ve never been as close to nature or livestock as I am right now. What would the harm be in trying?

  “Not anymore. My granddaddy used to own a ranch near Kalispell, but he sold it when he got too old. Oops, don’t let him know I said that.” She laughs, and I wonder how I would when I don’t know the man. Then I realize I’m being too literal and feel foolish.

  “I’ll take you.” Shaw’s deep drawl has us both spinning around. A slow smile spreads across his face
, and it’s then I realize I must look silly. “Dark, huh?” He saunters over, and I’m tempted to get off my chair and step back. “I think I’ll like it.” He groans as his hands touch my thighs, fingers playing with the frayed edges of the rips in my denim jeans.

  Biting my lip, I’m unsure of how to respond. Our eyes are locked in a hold that I’m not sure I want to break, and the tension between us is as sharp as a wire's edge. I don’t want the moment to end.

  “Phew. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” I hear Mindy's comment, but I can’t look away from Shaw. “It’s definitely hot in here,” she whispers. “I’ll be back. Need to get some stuff from the car.”

  Shaw growls. Deep in his chest. “Break that contract, and I’ll end you,” he warns her as she begins to walk away, phone in her hand.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. Every girl needs a man who loves them like you do her.” My eyes widen at her parting words.

  Shaw doesn’t love me.

  He couldn’t.

  My heart thuds so hard in protest that my chest aches. I want him to.

  And that thought is scarier than anything I’ve ever known.

  Shaw

  Monroe is blindingly beautiful. It should almost be illegal. And yet, with her covered in dark dye, an ugly towel wrapped around her shoulders, and plastic covering her head, I’ve never seen her look more stunning.

  I overheard her and Mindy talking while in my office, and when I heard Monroe say horses were terrifying, I immediately knew what we were going to be doing tonight. She’s going to get that mountain sunset and her first experience riding.

  Mindy is right, Monroe will be gorgeous up top a calm mare, and I have just the one in mind for her. I have an older quarter horse I brought with me from Texas named Miles. He’s always been a mild-mannered stud, and I’ve never had an issue with him. With his nearly black mane and tail, I think Monroe will enjoy the beast.

 

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