The Alpha Bodyguards Books #1-3

Chapter Six

S eeing her eyes well up with tears, knowing it had nothing to do with her stuck heel and everything to do with why she was here, protectiveness had surged. Not the kind that was on my mind every day I did my job. The kind that made me want to pick her up and carry her off to somewhere secluded. Somewhere only I could get my hands on her.

Caught off guard with the old woman coming up on my six never should’ve happened.

I needed to remember why the fuck she was here. Why I was here.

Instinct had kicked in the second she’d told me her bullshit about needing someone who looked like a date to her art opening. I needed to pull my shit together and focus on the why of it, but seeing those gorgeous brown eyes well with tears?

Shit.

That had fucking undone me.

I wasn’t immune to a woman crying, but I also had never thought twice about it. But now? Now I was thinking about it. Hardcore. It simultaneously had me wanting to punch something and hold her.

Mentally shaking my head and pulling my shit together, I scanned the garage twice. My arm around her shoulders as she clutched her strapless purse to her chest like a shield, I led her to Luna’s armored SUV. “Come on.” Using the remote, I unlocked the doors. “I’m driving us back to your place, but I need your keys.”

“My keys?” Her eyes darted around the garage.

Scanning the surrounding cars again, I looked for anyone sitting in a parked car, anything suspicious, but I didn’t see shit. I opened the passenger door and helped her in. “I’m having your vehicle brought back to your house.” I held my hand out. “Keys.”

She straightened her dress with a quick, nervous gesture and pretended not to look around the garage again. “I can have my security come for it.”

I bit back anger toward her useless security detail. “The security you said you didn’t have? Or the security that let you get the slip on them?”

Studiously avoiding eye contact, she reached in to her purse. Her long, slender fingers retrieved her keys, and she dropped them in my hand, carefully not making any skin-to-skin contact. Then she clasped her hands in her lap, looked straight ahead and said nothing.

I glanced at the key fob. Of course she drove a Jag. “Where are you parked?”

“In front of the building.”

Shit. “The loading zone?” Where anyone could fuck with her car if she was in fact being followed.

She spared me a glance. “There isn’t any other street parking around here.”

Which wouldn’t have been an issue if she’d gone to Luna and Associates, or had her security detail drive her. I shut her door and walked around the front of the SUV. Sliding behind the wheel, I turned the engine over and dialed Sawyer.

He answered on the first ring. “Luna already called. Princess, huh?”

I backed out of the parking spot. “I’m leaving a Jag parked in the garage at Aqualina on Collins avenue, fifth spot from the elevator. Keys will be in the center console.” It’d be safe for the few minutes it took Sawyer to get over here. “I need you to bring it to her house.” I glanced at the honest-to-God princess sitting next to me. “What’s your address?”

She rattled off a street and house number in Miami’s most expensive zip code.

“You get that?” I asked Sawyer.

“Yeah,” he answered distractedly. “What make and model? ”

I glanced at her. “What kind of Jag, Princess?”

She frowned at the title. “It’s a white F-Pace.”

“White SUV,” I told Sawyer. “We’re on our way to the house now. Meet us there.”

“Is that one of the guards who will be attending the event?” she interrupted.

I nodded once.

“He can come to the fitting, as well as the other guard.”

Sawyer didn’t need a custom tux. His family was so fucking loaded, he probably had one for every day of the week. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I didn’t catch that. What does she want?” Sawyer asked.

“It’s no trouble.” Her voice was soft, but her hands clutched at her purse. “The tailor is already there.”

The tension in her body language made me cave. “Bring Collins with you to the house,” I told Sawyer. “We’re all getting fitted for tuxes.”

Sawyer sighed. “I have plenty of tuxes.”

“What’s one more?”

“Another reminder why I didn’t go into the family business.”

I shook my head. Rich fuck. “Copy that.” His family owned half of downtown Miami, including a new giant sports arena. He’d joined the Marines so he didn’t have to attend Harvard, or some shit like that. “How far out are you?”

“Ten minutes, and that wasn’t me agreeing.”

“Right.” I knew next to nothing about him, but I knew he’d do anything not to have to work some finance corporate job for his dad. “Enjoy the ride,” I quipped.

A Jag would be nothing to him. Fucker drove a brand-new, tricked-out Range Rover. He’d said it was a gift from his dad. When he didn’t reup after eight years with the Marines and got out, his dad had sprung it on him. Called it a coming home gift, that and his swank penthouse on the beach.

“You owe me for this,” Sawyer warned.

“I’ll get right on that.” I hung up and glanced at the princess as I pulled out of Luna’s garage. Sitting ramrod straight, she looked like proper etiquette had been drilled into her since birth. “You comfortable?”

She ignored my question. “Are the men coming?”

“On their way.”

She nodded crisply, once.

I scanned the street for anything unusual, parked cars with someone in them, tinted-out SUVs or vans, anything I hadn’t noticed driving in, but nothing stood out. I pulled in front of the building, threw the Escalade in park, and glanced at the cars at the other end of the loading zone by the lobby. The color of choice in Miami, there was more than one white SUV.

“Which one, Princess?”

She exhaled like she was fighting for patience. “The one at the back of the line.”

“Got it.” Her white Jag was illegally parked behind half a dozen other cars. “Be right back.” I glanced at her. “Lock the doors after I get out.”

She nodded, and I got out of the SUV. The Florida humidity worse than the heat, I jogged toward the SUV. As I approached the first parked car, I pushed the unlock button on the Jag’s key fob, and the alarm beeped.

Then all hell broke loose.

A deafening explosion pierced my ears and shook the ground a split second before the blast wave picked me up and threw me backward. A fireball three stories tall shot into the air, car alarms went off, and the car in front of the Jag lifted off the ground, tail first.

My back slammed into the ground and all the air left my lungs.

Jesus fucking Christ .

Ears ringing, head spinning, no fucking air in my lungs, I rolled and scanned for the Escalade.

The passenger door flew open. Her face stricken, her mouth open like she was screaming, she hit the ground and was running. At me .

“No!” I yelled, not hearing my own voice, not hearing a goddamn thing over the roar in my head.

Fire shooting into the sky, I reached for my 9mm and pushed to my feet. Staggering, fucking gasping for breath, I tried yelling again. “GET BACK.”

She kept coming.

Whipping around, I scanned the loading zone, the street, the sidewalks, everywhere. Fuck, fuck, fuck ! People running, gawking, filming on cell phones, I didn’t wait another fucking second.

I rushed her.

My shoulder hit her stomach as my arm went around the back of her legs, and I threw her over me fireman style. Half a second later, I was running to the Escalade. I didn’t take the time to put her in the passenger side. I threw her in the back seat, slammed the door and got behind the wheel.

My foot hit the gas, and I gunned it into stopped traffic on Collins Avenue.

“Stay down,” I barked as I drove over sidewalks, used the bike lane, and blew through a red light.

Barely able to hear shit over the ringing in my ears, I pulled my cell out and dialed Luna.

He answered immediately. “ Jesu-fucking-cristo ,” Luna swore. “You injured? What the fuck just happened?” he demanded.

Thrown enough times by my brothers before seeing too many damn IEDs downrange, I knew how to tuck my head. Unfortunately, that’s all I’d been able to do before I hit the small landscaped area by the lobby door. My back fucking smarting, I was pissed I hadn’t turned and rolled.

“I’m fine. You see the feeds? You see anyone?” Luna had security cameras all over his building. I wanted to know who the fuck set those explosives.

“Alert went off a second after the explosion. I didn’t wait. I’m already on my way back. Base will review the footage. Was it her vehicle?”

“Affirmative.” I glanced in the rearview mirror. Her arms around her chest, she was curled in a small ball on the back seat. “Until I hear from you, I’m going to assume her residence, yours, and base are all compromised.”

“Copy, but we have security at the office. Bring her in. Use one of the apartments.”

“Negative. She was parked out front of the building last night. She could’ve been followed then. Taking her to my place.”

Luna paused. “Not a smart move. Use the primary safe house.”

The primary safe house was a residence in Coral Gables with nothing more secure than a gated entrance and enough seasonal residents so that no one asked questions. The security on the house itself was the best money could buy, like all of Luna’s systems, but it was still a house with foot access from three sides and water access from the fourth.

“I want to be off the ground floor.” Luna would understand. We’d both seen firsthand how unsecure a ground-level building was downrange.

Luna exhaled, but he didn’t push it. “Copy. I’ll have base pull up security at your place and keep an eye out. I’ll handle the scene and let you know when you’re clear to take her back to her residence. In the meantime, find out what the fuck is going on. This just escalated from bizarre to FUBAR. If she doesn’t talk, you’re dropping her the fuck off and walking. I’m not risking your life, or any of the other men for her bullshit lies.”

“Copy that. On it.” I hung up and glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her frightened stare. “Start talking,” I demanded.