Guarding What’s Mine (Men of Maddox Security #3)

Chapter 1

Boone

Today promises to be a good day. Not only do I get to travel for work—a perk I’m always excited about—but I’ll also have a chance to escape to my cabin tucked away in the Tennessee woods just outside of Nashville. That place has been my sanctuary since I left the military. Something about the pine-scented air, the hush of the forest, and the satisfaction of chopping your own firewood speaks to a part of me that Saint Pierce’s salty breeze never quite reaches.

This upcoming job is exactly what I need. Dean hinted last week there might be an assignment near Nashville, and he knew I’d be perfect for it—maybe because I’m ex-military and more than capable of handling tough situations, or maybe it’s because I look the part. My beard’s grown in thick and full lately, and I have to say, even though I’m more used to deserts and jungles than mountains, I’ve embraced the rugged look. The grizzly mountain man look.

I flash a quick grin to the blonde receptionist behind the front desk in the gleaming lobby of Maddox Securities, perched on the thirtieth floor of one of the tallest buildings in Saint Pierce. Then I step into the elevator. As I ride up, I can’t stop myself from picturing the Tennessee wilderness, the crisp air, and the logs stacked neatly beside my cabin’s porch. It’s exactly what I need—a reprieve from Saint Pierce’s relentless heat and an excuse to indulge in the kind of hands-on work that makes me feel alive.

When the elevator doors glide open, I stroll into the sleek, glass-walled conference room. “I’m here,” I announce, rubbing a hand over my beard, letting a slow grin spread across my face. “The meeting can begin now.”

A few of the guys chuckle, and I drop into a seat, nodding at Ranger. His expression is tight, like something’s weighing him down. I remember what he told me last week—about his sister—and my tone shifts as I murmur, “Sorry to hear about your sister.”

He gives me a brusque nod. “It’s fine.”

But I can see from the tense line of his jaw that it’s anything but fine. Greta’s a good woman. The thought of her hurting over some scumbag’s betrayal sets my teeth on edge. I fold my arms over my chest, the protective instinct I honed in the Marines kicking up a notch. “If you need me to knock that motherfucker out,” I offer, letting my voice go cold, “just say the word.”

Ranger’s gaze flicks to mine, appreciation in his eyes. “Thanks, Boone. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Across the table, Lincoln raises an eyebrow. “Knock who out?”

Ranger explains how his sister’s long-term boyfriend cheated on her, leaving her heartbroken—and with little faith left in men. The reminder pulls at a part of me that’s hardwired to protect the people I care about. Greta’s off-limits when it comes to heartbreak, at least if I have a say in the matter.

I push a breath through my nose, cracking my knuckles as I consider the possibilities. Nothing makes my blood boil like someone who preys on a woman’s trust. Moments like this take me back to my military days—guarding bases, escorting civilians through danger zones. I’ve seen enough ugliness in the world to know you can’t stand by when someone you care about is in trouble.

“She’s been devastated ever since,” Ranger mutters, his voice low and pained. He laces his fingers together on the table, as though trying to keep himself calm. “It’s probably why I’ll never fall in love.”

I feel a pang of sympathy twist in my chest for his sister, but I also get where Ranger’s coming from. If I had a drink in hand, I’d raise it to toast that sentiment. I’m about to agree when Dean clears his throat.

“Love isn’t all bad,” he says, in that confident way he has of looking on the bright side.

A laugh escapes me. “I’m surprised you’re even here, Dean,” I tease, my tone lighter than the tension in the room. “Figured you’d still be holed up with your girl.”

Dean’s expression softens immediately. He starts talking about Sophia—this woman who turned his entire life upside down. The story is wild, even by our standards: the job was supposed to be a simple extraction, kidnap one of the Four Families’ daughters, only for him to discover Sophia in her place at the last moment. Suddenly, he found himself pretending to be married to her, all so he could lure out Bishop Blackstone, a notorious mob boss. And now here Dean is, grinning like a fool because he’s clearly head over heels.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Ranger whispers, nudging me. And he’s right. Dean’s happiness is so obvious it practically fills the room.

Then the door bangs open, interrupting the moment. Orion staggers in, his hair disheveled like he just tumbled out of bed. Honestly, knowing him, he probably did. He yawns, settles into a chair, and props his feet up on the table—unapologetically Orion.

I turn back to Ranger, who’s rubbing the back of his neck. Seeing the hint of worry in his eyes reminds me why I’m closest to him out of everyone in the group. He’s solid. Dependable. And he’s the reason I’m even here. We met a couple of years ago. As soon as we both got out of the military, Ranger talked to Dean on my behalf, and got me this job at Maddox Securities.

It was exactly what I needed at the time—an outlet for that military readiness that never really leaves you, but without all the red tape. Dean built Maddox Securities from scratch, first dealing in high-tech security systems before branching into personal security. Now, he—and by extension, all of us—have flown around the globe, working with mafia families and all sorts of clients most people wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

Of course, we keep our mouths shut about the specifics. That’s part of the deal. Anyone who can afford the high price tag of Maddox Securities wants the best, and the best requires absolute discretion. We’re a tight-knit, elite group, which suits me just fine. I’d rather keep my head down, do the job, and get paid well for it than deal with the nine-to-five grind.

Still, I can’t help but notice the faint slump in Ranger’s shoulders whenever someone brings up his sister. I remind myself that when push comes to shove, I’ve got his back—both on the clock and off. It’s just who I am.

“Why do you schedule these meetings so early in the morning?” Orion complains.

Dean looks at his watch and shakes his head. “It’s nine a.m. That’s hardly the crack of dawn.” He chuckles, clearly amused at Orion’s theatrics.

Ignoring Dean, Orion presses his forehead against the polished cherry-wood table, letting out a long groan. I arch an eyebrow at the sight.

“Rough night?” I ask, my tone playful, though I already know exactly why he’s so wiped—and unfortunately, it’s not because he got lucky. Given how dedicated Orion is, he probably spent half the night chasing down leads or combing through files on our latest client. Still, I can’t help wishing he’d had a more enjoyable reason for the dark circles under his eyes. The guy deserves a break. Hell, we all do.

But he only grunts in reply, which sends a ripple of laughter through the rest of us.

A moment later, Asher enters, his dark eyes flicking around the table, quietly taking in the scene. He’s our newest recruit, and I don’t know much about him yet—other than the fact that he’s as sharp as any of us, and Dean seems to trust him implicitly. That’s more than enough to put him in my good graces.

Dean clears his throat, gathering everyone’s attention. “Thanks for being here. I know the past couple of months have been rough with me on the hunt for Bishop.” His gaze drops to the stack of papers in front of him. He flips through them, the seriousness of his expression taking hold of the room. “I can’t thank you all enough for the roles you played in tracking him down. Hopefully, now we’ll have a little peace.”

I nod in agreement. It’s no secret that Lincoln and Isabel ran themselves ragged to keep things running smoothly while Dean was away. We all did our part, but those two especially carried a heavy load.

Dean continues, “And I owe Isabel a lot, too. She’s been a huge help. Having a sister who’s also a part of this operation is...well, I’m damn lucky.” He smiles briefly, then glances at Lincoln. There’s a flicker of something there—appreciation, maybe gratitude. I wonder if he’ll acknowledge the extra mile Lincoln went. Or if there’s something else going on behind the scenes.

Before I can dwell on it, Dean’s all business again. “All right. Now that the dust has settled, I’ve got some new assignments to hand out. Let’s get to it.”

My pulse stirs. Nashville. I already know that’s where I’m headed, but I try to keep my eagerness under wraps. I haven’t been to my Tennessee cabin in too long, and just the thought of breathing in that crisp mountain air has me itching to head out.

Dean shuffles another stack of folders and picks one off the top. “Ranger, I’ll start with you.” He hands Ranger a slim file. “This is Tory Ann.”

Ranger opens the folder, his brow furrowing as he scans the contents. “Is she attending the summit?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, her father—Frederick Malser—is the one attending. He’s a world-renowned scientist and one of the keynote speakers at the G-Summit this weekend. He’ll have his own personal security detail, so he wants separate coverage for his daughter.”

Ranger arches an eyebrow. “Why not just let his own team watch over her, too?”

It’s a fair question, and one that makes me lean in, interested to hear the explanation. Dean folds his arms, preparing to elaborate, and I can’t help but notice how the tension in the room builds again—like we’re all bracing for whatever surprise might come next.

“Frederick’s been receiving threats related to his presentation at the Summit,” Dean explains, tapping the file on the table. “He doesn’t want anyone knowing his daughter will be in town. He wants to keep it all under wraps—especially since he isn’t completely sure he can trust everyone on his own security detail.”

Ranger grimaces. “That sucks.”

Dean nods in agreement before continuing. “You’ll take his daughter to the safe house: SEASHELL, and keep her there until the Summit is over. Minimal contact, minimal movement.”

“Sounds good,” Ranger mutters, though his expression suggests he knows it won’t be that simple.

Dean’s gaze slides over to Orion, who’s half-dozing in his chair. I give the leg of his chair a good kick to jolt him awake.

“Orion,” Dean says, “this is for you. Her name’s Briar Green—the daughter of socialite Minnie Green. She has an ex-boyfriend stalking her. Her mother wants to ensure she’s safe going to and from work.”

“Ex-boyfriend?” Orion echoes, lifting his head. He flips through the file, eyes still heavy with fatigue. “Can’t I just beat him senseless, scare the hell out of him, and call it a day?”

Dean’s lips twitch with a hint of a smile. “It’s never that simple, my friend. We need a more…subtle approach this time.” He slides the folder fully in front of Orion.

“It never is,” Orion grumbles, but he seems more alert now, scanning the details of his assignment.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Dean glance at Lincoln. Dean mentioned earlier that Lincoln already has his assignment, but there’s a flicker of tension between them that piques my curiosity. Something else is going on there, but it’s not my place to pry—yet.

Finally, Dean turns to me. I straighten up, anticipation coursing through my veins. “Boone,” Dean says, sliding a manila folder across the table. “Here’s yours. I gave you a quick preview last week, but now we have more details.”

My pulse quickens as I pick up the file. Nashville. I’m already picturing my cabin nestled in the Tennessee woods. But the photo clipped to the first page stops me in my tracks. A woman’s face—delicate features, fiery amber eyes, and hair a shade of red that practically smolders off the page.

“Wow,” I breathe, before I can stop myself. “Who’s this?”

“Aubree Ryan,” Dean responds, leaning back in his chair. “She’s got a stalker, too. We don’t know who it is yet, but it sounds serious. She needs to get out of Nashville until we can figure out who’s behind it.”

I glance at the photo again, something tightening low in my gut. It’s unexpected—this surge of protectiveness. I’ve guarded plenty of women before without blinking an eye. But there’s something about Aubree that’s already under my skin.

“Right,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ll take her to my cabin nearby. That should keep her off the radar.”

“Good.” Dean snaps another file shut. “We’ll coordinate the details, but you’ll head out as soon as you can.”

I barely hear him. My mind’s already drifting to that tiny stretch of forest I call home, imagining what it’ll be like to have this striking, vulnerable woman tucked away with me—hidden from the rest of the world.

What’s wrong with me? This isn’t the first time I’ve protected someone. Yet the sight of Aubree’s photo has my thoughts scattering in a way they never have before.

I let out a low breath. Has it really been that long since I let anyone get close? Because one look at her, and I can feel my carefully constructed walls start to shift. And that…well, that might be a problem.

I swallow hard and force my features into a neutral mask, hoping Dean doesn’t notice the spark of interest flaring inside me. It’s not exactly professional to react to an assignment this way. But, damn it, seeing Aubree Ryan’s photo triggered something I wasn’t expecting—a twist of protectiveness mixed with an undeniable attraction.

This is fucked up , I tell myself. Keep it together, Boone.

I glance across the room at Orion, who’s also flipping through his file with a furrowed brow. It’s always something new with that guy, and by the way his eyes widen slightly, I can tell his current assignment isn’t a walk in the park either. I make a mental note to check on him later, see if he needs anything.

Dean dismisses the meeting, and we all file out of the conference room. I catch a glimpse of Asher being asked to stay behind, probably for a private update on his own job.

Once we’re in the hallway, I run a hand over my beard and smirk at my friends. “We all need to catch up soon,” I say, remembering the last time we hung out. It ended in far too much whiskey and just enough laughs. “Last time was a damn good time.”

Orion yawns, but there’s a mischievous light in his eyes. “Maybe once I’m done protecting a girl from her psycho ex, we can do a guys-only poker night.”

Ranger chuckles. “I’m definitely in.”

Of course he is. Ranger kills it at poker; the man’s practically a human lie detector. I still remember losing five hundred bucks the last time we squared off. Stubborn pride and a poor bluff are a lethal combination.

“I’d love some more free money,” Ranger says, crossing his arms with a smug grin.

“No way I’m playing with you again,” Lincoln cuts in. He shakes his head like he’s still nursing that old wound. “Besides, my own assignment isn’t exactly a cakewalk.”

He shoots a quick glance down the hall, and I can’t help but wonder if his job has something to do with the big meeting Dean had earlier. Ranger cuffs him lightly on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I figured,” Ranger says. “Dean asked to see you before all of us earlier. What’s going on?”

Lincoln blows out a breath. “It’s Isabel,” he admits, lowering his voice. “She’s been threatened.”

A heavy silence settles over us. Isabel is Dean’s sister, and as long as I’ve been with Maddox Securities, I know one thing: family is off-limits. That makes whoever is messing with her a dead man walking.

“Who is it?” I ask quietly.

Lincoln shakes his head. “We’re not sure yet. Dean has a few leads, so while he’s looking into it, I’m basically glued to Isabel’s side.”

“Good luck,” Orion says with a half-laugh. “You know how she gets when she’s pissed.”

We all nod in agreement. Isabel’s not a woman you want to cross. And sure enough, the rapid click of stilettos against marble tiles echoes down the hallway. She comes into view, her gaze locked onto Lincoln like a heat-seeking missile. The fury in her eyes says she’s well aware of this new ‘protection detail,’ and she’s not happy about it.

Before she can level her wrath at the rest of us, we scramble to make ourselves scarce. I head for the elevators, shaking my head with a mix of amusement and pity for Lincoln.

That’s life at Maddox Securities—constant danger, complicated assignments, and sometimes a little heartbreak. But we stick together, even when we’re butting heads or chasing down leads.

Stepping into the elevator, I think of the folder tucked under my arm and the redhead who’s about to turn my life upside down. I need to get a flight and meet Aubree Ryan. Keep her safe. Keep my head on straight.

I let out a slow, steadying breath. It’s time to handle business, the way I always do—like a professional. Even if my gut twists every time I remember those fiery amber eyes.