The Protector: The Complete C.I.A. Romance Series

by Lilian Monroe

  Well, being off the record could go both ways. I wanted to have a quiet talk with whoever he was, too. And if that happened to include a croquet mallet to the head and a bunch of duct tape to tie him up, well, that’s just the way it had to be.

  My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. It was Maribel. I took a deep breath and slipped my phone back in my pocket.

  “It’s time,” I said to my grandfather.

  He nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes still glued to the screen. I stared at him for a few moments, wondering if he’d heard me. Was he slipping away from me? Did he understand the gravity of the situation? He was clear when I first got here, but did he remember?

  I wanted to go to him, to get a sense of how he was doing. I wanted to look him in the eye and make sure he knew what was going on. I wanted to tell him that I loved him.

  But there was no time. I knew that from the time Maribel texted me to the time some Polish thug would walk through the door was no more than three or four minutes.

  So, I took my place behind the door, and I grabbed the croquet mallet that Maribel had snuck into my grandfather’s room. My palms were sweaty as I gripped the shaft. It felt heavier than it did a few minutes ago, and my arms felt like they didn’t belong to me. It was like my body was rebelling against me, frozen with fear and anticipation for what I had to do.

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. This was the only way. We had to apprehend whoever was coming here and use them as leverage with Kowalski. That was the only way we’d be able to get to the bottom of this.

  “Stay calm, Kitty Cat,” my grandfather said, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Stay calm and strike true.”

  He was here. He was clear-headed, and he knew what was coming. Relief flooded through me, and I gripped the croquet mallet a little bit tighter. As long as my grandfather was with me, I knew it would be okay.

  I took a deep breath as my heart thumped in my chest. I started counting the seconds as they ticked by, just to distract myself from the fear that was starting to grip me.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  I got to ninety-six when the door opened. It opened toward me, shielding me from the visitor. My grandfather didn’t move, and neither did I. I couldn’t see who was there, and for a few agonizing seconds, all of us were still.

  Finally, Gramps turned around. His face didn’t move, didn’t twitch, his eyes didn’t even flicker. He just looked at the visitor and then turned back toward the television.

  Then, the door closed and I saw the behemoth who had entered. He had his back to me, but the sheer size of him was staggering. He must have been seven feet tall, and at least three hundred pounds. His shirt strained across his broad shoulders as he took a step forward. I swear the ground shook when he stepped forward.

  “Shorty Nowak,” he said to my grandfather in a deep, rumbling voice. His neck was as thick as my thigh, and it tensed as he took another step forward.

  This was it. I had to do it. I had to hit him, and I had to knock him out in one blow. I’d never be able to overpower him on my own—probably ten of me wouldn’t be able to overpower him. His arms looked like tree trunks.

  But the man had a little bald patch on the crown of his head. It was the size of—well, the size of a croquet ball—and my eyes were drawn to the little patch of skin. His dark hair formed a ring around it.

  Almost like a target.

  My grip on the mallet tightened and I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes steady on the bald patch. I had one chance. I needed to hit him right there, or else my grandfather and I were both goners.

  I wound back as the man took another step forward, and then I brought the mallet down on his head as hard as I could. The force of the hit reverberated through my arms and I gasped as the head of the mallet went flying off the end. It whizzed past my face and thudded against the wall behind me. I ducked out of the way as the man grunted.

  He staggered, turning his head toward in surprise as a cry escaped my lips.

  I hadn’t hit him hard enough. His skull was too thick, or my hit too weak. He’d punch me with those hands as big as hams and I’d be the one wrapped up in duct tape. The man looked at me in surprise as another grunt shook through him.

  Then, his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled. He fell on top of my grandfather’s nightstand, crushing it to a pile of kindling as he fell to the ground. Splinters of wood went flying across the room and I flinched out of the way.

  Silence.

  Gramps and I stared at the man. His body took up almost the entire floorspace of the tiny room, and the remnants of my grandfather’s nightstand were almost unrecognizable.

  Then, my grandfather did the last thing I ever expected. He started laughing. Clutching his stomach, he leaned back as peals of laughter fell out of him.

  I couldn’t join him. I was still in shock. I looked at the end of the mallet, where the head had been, and then at the huge man laying across the floor.

  “It worked,” I said.

  “It certainly did,” my grandfather chuckled. “It certainly did.” He heaved himself off the chair and pointed to the duct tape we’d stacked in the corner.

  That simple movement snapped me out of my stupor. I grabbed the tape and used a whole roll on the man’s hands. I tried to roll him over, but he was far too heavy, so I just duct taped his legs together. When his hands and feet were bound, I checked his pulse.

  “He’s still alive.”

  “He’ll be awake soon,” my grandfather said.

  “You seem to know a lot about knocking people out.”

  Gramps’ eyes flashed and he tapped the side of his nose. “In another life, Cat.” He grinned and put his hand on my shoulder. “Well done.”

  I took a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. A gentle knock on the door was followed by Maribel’s voice.

  “Everything okay in there?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “Everything is fine, actually.”

  “It worked?” Her voice was a hushed whisper, and I grinned at my grandfather. His eyes were still shining as he glanced at the man on the floor who was starting to stir.

  “It did.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Now what? Can I come in?”

  “Uh… he’s kind of lying across the doorway. I can’t move him. I’ll call Bennett and see if he can come help us.”

  Maribel let out a sigh, and I could almost picture her grin. I glanced at my grandfather and for the first time in weeks, hope started to blossom in my heart. For the first time, it felt like we were in control, like we might actually get out of this mess in one piece.

  But that hope was dashed as soon as I dialed Bennett’s number. Someone else answered and my heart dropped to my stomach.

  “Cat?” The man said.

  “Uh... yeah. Who’s this? Where’s Benn—Chris?”

  “My name is Gary. I work with Chris. We have a problem.”

  34

  Chris

  My teeth rattled as Kowalski’s goon punched me in the face… again. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I spit out a glob of blood and saliva onto the floor.

  Kowalski grunted. “Enough, Stefan.” He put his hands on his hips, staring at Finch and me. Finch had two black eyes already and his nose was definitely broken. I wouldn’t be calling him Zoolander for a while, that was for sure. My face wasn’t in much better shape. Blood trickled from my split lip and the pounding in my head was almost intolerable.

  Kowalski sighed. “I was starting to enjoy this little game of cat-and-mouse,” he said. “Until you killed one of my men.”

  “You attacked us, Kowalski.”

  He grunted. His goon punched me in the stomach and I tried to double over in pain, but my hands were tied to a post behind my back. Finch sucked in his breath in sympathy. We exchanged a glance, and I took a deep breath.

  “What do you want, Kowalski?”

  “It’s not about what I want, Mr. Anders. It�
��s about what I need to do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Make you disappear.”

  “So it is about me? Why go after Cat?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Cat? Shouldn’t it be Senator Crawford to you… or have you gotten a little bit more familiar than is appropriate for a bodyguard?”

  “I’m not a bodyguard.”

  He grunted. His goon made a move toward me, but Kowalski shook his head.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said before spitting out another mouthful of blood. Kowalski arched an eyebrow, so I continued. “What’s up with the fish? What does that mean?”

  The old man chuckled, spreading his palms out toward me as he shrugged. “Lucky coincidence. We heard what happened to the Senator last month, and thought it was too funny not to try for ourselves.”

  “So you had nothing to do with that activist?”

  “Like I said, lucky coincidence.”

  “Don’t know if I’d go so far as to call it lucky,” I grunted. That meant that not only had Cat been the victim of an unfortunate environmental activist on her first day, she also had been put in the line of fire because of me. She had to be the least fortunate person I’d ever met.

  If she ever forgave me for that, I promised to worship her for the rest of my life.

  I sucked a breath in through my lips, running my tongue along my teeth. One of them was chipped, and I sighed. My first thought was ‘I wonder how much it’ll cost to get it fixed’, and then I realized that if Kowalski got his way, I wouldn’t get the chance to fix it, because I’d probably be at the bottom of the ocean by the end of the day.

  “Where’s Crawford?” Kowalski asked for the thousandth time.

  I grinned at him, still tasting blood in my mouth. My teeth were probably stained red, but it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t tell him where she was. He’d have to kill me first.

  “Where is she?”

  “Why do you care? I thought you wanted to kill me.”

  “It’s my job to kill you,” Kowalski explained. “But I want to hurt her. I owe it to her grandfather.”

  “What did he ever do to you?”

  “None of your business. Where’s Tomas? He should be back by now,” he said impatiently, turning to one of the Unibrows. “Call my nephew. I want Shorty here, now.” The man grunted and pulled out his phone.

  Kowalski paced in front of me and I took the moment of calm to sweep my eyes over the room. Finch and I had been led from the car to a dark room at the back of the cafe, tied up to two posts and used as punching bags. Why this friendly-looking cafe had a weird prison-cum-torture-chamber in the back room, I didn’t want to know.

  There was only one door. Kowalski was here with the two unibrow men, and there were at least eight other men outside.

  I didn’t see how we would get out of this one. I glanced at Finch, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was coming to the same conclusion. He glanced at me and smiled sadly.

  Before I could say anything to him, the man on the phone said something to Kowalski—I assumed they were speaking Polish. Kowalski exploded, yelling at the man as he flinched. Unibrow #1 extended the phone toward Kowalski and the two men stormed out of the room, leaving us with Unibrow #2.

  I strained my ears, but I couldn’t hear what Kowalski was saying.

  Finch sighed. “I knew this job would be the end of me. I could be working the Saudis right now. I could be in an office. Peace and quiet, unlimited coffee, a bit of paperwork… it doesn’t seem so bad. Instead I’m getting my face bashed in while tied to a pole.”

  “It’s a low point,” I snorted, and then winced as pain shot through my ribs.

  Finch grunted. Unibrow #2 took a step toward us and made a noise.

  “All right, all right,” I said. “No more talking.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to think through this situation. I still felt like there was something I didn’t understand. Kowalski said it was his job to eliminate me—I assumed it was the new Russian kingpin who had ordered the hit. And he wanted to kill Cat… or was it her grandfather? Who did he really want?

  It was as if getting me had been the job and killing Cat’s grandfather was the reward.

  As the door flew open and Kowalski re-entered, everything started clicking into place. The jigsaw puzzle that I’d been trying to put together for the past five weeks was finally making sense.

  But Kowalski’s face was dark as he stomped toward me. He said nothing, just walked straight up to me and punched me in the jaw. Pain exploded through my skull.

  Again.

  I yelped, slumping to the side as far as my restraints would let me.

  “What the fuck was that for?” I panted, groaning as I tried to sit up again. I shimmied against the pole until I was mostly sitting up straight. My mouth filled with blood again and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Your little girlfriend has my nephew.” Kowalski flexed his hand, shaking it out and glancing at the bloody knuckles. Whether it was my blood or his, I wasn’t sure.

  “What?”

  His face darkened and he looked like he was going to punch me again. Instead, he just massaged his fist. He nodded to the Unibrows and let out a sigh, and then glanced back toward me.

  “She’s willing to exchange you two buffoons for my nephew. Stefan, Alex—untie them. We’re taking them to the docks. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “The docks?” I asked, arching my eyebrows.

  Memories of Zane, Mikhail Ivanov, and Senator Blanchet flooded my mind. The docks weren’t exactly the most secure place in the world. If Cat was planning a hostage exchange, she should have chosen neutral ground. I tried to protest, but one of the unibrows stuffed an old rag in my mouth. He untied me from the pole and hauled me up to my feet.

  I glanced at Finch, who was getting a similar rough treatment. He gave me a look that I couldn’t decipher, and the two of us were pushed out the door.

  Despite my best efforts, hope blossomed in my chest. I’d started to think that I was going to die in that little room. I thought I’d never see Cat again.

  But now…

  I shook my head. She shouldn’t be doing this. She should be running as far away as possible. She should be getting help, not putting herself in the crosshairs. Hope was quickly overwhelmed by worry and fear.

  If anything happened to Cat, I would never forgive myself. I’d rather die in a tiny room, tied to a pole with a mouthful of broken teeth than see her hurt.

  But once again, it wasn’t up to me. The men pushed us into the back of a van and slammed the door. Finch made a noise, and I grunted in response.

  Cat was trying to rescue me, whether I wanted her to or not.

  35

  Cat

  “How do we get him to the car, though?” Maribel glanced at the massive man sitting up against the wall in Gramps’ room. Her eyes swung up to me. “We can’t just walk him through the front door.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t want to untie his legs in case he runs.”

  She blew the air out of her mouth and put her hands on her hips. Based on this guy’s ID, we’d figured out he was related to Kowalski, and then a phone call to Tony Kowalski confirmed that we were holding his nephew, Tomas.

  When Tomas came to, he shuffled away from the door and Maribel was able to come in. The three of us—me, Maribel, and Gramps—stared at the huge man as he sat on the floor. His legs extended from wall to wall.

  “And they have Agent Bennett?”

  I nodded. “And Finch, who I don’t think I’ve met—unless I did and he gave me a fake name.”

  Maribel sighed again. I glanced at Gramps, who looked like his mind was a million miles away. I put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

  “You okay, Gramps?”

  He nodded. “I’m fine.” He snapped his fingers, his eyes brightening. “A wheelchair!” Maribel and I glanced at him, and he nodded. “We put him in a wheelchair. Then, we can wheel him out to the car and drive him to wherever
we’re doing the hostage exchange.”

  “Okay, first of all, Gramps, you seem way too comfortable with this level of fucked-up,” I said, glancing at him sideways.

  “Language, Cat,” he frowned. Then, a grin tugged at his lips and I wondered for the thousandth time today what exactly he had been into when he was younger.

  “Second of all,” I continued, “you’re staying here, safe and protected. Third—”

  “Nope.” He shook his head, his lips pinching in a thin line. “I’m coming.”

  “Gramps—”

  “I need to look Tony in the eye and tell him what a bastard he is.” He spat the words out and I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  “Gramps…”

  He harrumphed and crossed his arms. I glanced at Maribel, who shrugged. Bringing my ailing grandfather to meet a bunch of thugs in the dark corners of the Baltimore docks seemed like a very, very bad idea. What if he forgot who we were? What if he forgot what we were doing? What if he got scared and had a panic attack? I’d seen him have one once before and it was the most terrifying thing of my life… until I met Agent Bennett, that is.

  I didn’t think my heart could take that kind of thing.

  But my grandfather stared at me, his blue eyes flashing as if daring me to stop him.

  “I know what Tony wants,” he finally said. “And he’ll only be able to get it from me. Otherwise, this won’t end today. You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life—trust me, I know.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out of my mouth. “Fine,” I finally said. “But you’re not doing anything silly and you’re not playing the hero. We just go, trade this guy for Bennett and Finch, and then we leave.”

  “Sure,” Gramps said to placate me more than anything.

  I glanced at Maribel. “Can you get us a wheelchair?”

  She nodded and disappeared out the door. Gramps turned to me as his face brightened. “How’s Mickey? I need to call him.” He shuffled over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room. He reached for his reading glasses which hung from a cord on his neck, placing them gently on the edge of his nose.