The Alpha Bodyguards Books #1-3

Chapter Twenty-Eight

S he burst into tears when I opened the driver door, and I forgot about the asshole’s blood splatter all over me.

I pulled her into my arms. “Sh, sh, baby. You’re okay.” I lifted her out of the vehicle. “You’re okay.”

“Not me,” she cried, running her hands all over my chest, my arms, smearing blood everywhere as she went. “You. Oh my God, are you shot?”

“I’m fine.” The fuck clipped my arm, but I didn’t tell her. “Come on, cops will be here soon. I’m getting you out of here.” Fucking rubberneckers were already crowding the entrance to the alley. “Let’s go, baby. Sawyer’s getting us out of here.” I whisked her to his Escalade and got her inside, this time following her immediately into the back seat.

The second I closed the door, Sawyer took off. His phone to his ear, he listened a moment then handed it over the seat. “Luna.”

I took the cell. “Boss.”

“ Jesucristo ,” Luna swore. “You’re shot again?”

“I’m fine.”

He switched to Spanish. “Your mother is never going to forgive me for this.”

Yes she would. She loved the hell out of him for keeping me gainfully employed. “Yes she will. Tell me you found something.” I needed a fucking trail of evidence in Harrison’s place to wrap this shit up and make it go away for Calandra.

Luna switched back to English. “A whole lot of something. I can’t believe this shit was missed the first time. I’ve taught you all better than that.”

My arm fucking hurting, that asshole’s blood all over me, and Calandra next to me still shaking, I was out of patience. “What’d you find?”

“Parker Trent Jones. Twenty-eight. Father is a prominent Louisiana judge, mother a trial lawyer, they disowned him at seventeen for raping a senator’s daughter, and shit went downhill after that. He’s wanted in four states. Everything from assault and battery to attempted murder. You name it, he’s done it, all of it escalating, all of it related to domestic violence, stalking, and kidnapping. This is his MO. Find a rich chica, win her over, turn psycho once he does, then bleed her of everything she owns before assaulting her and moving on.” Luna exhaled. “She got off easy.”

No fucking shit. “Tank check his place?”

“Yeah, we got everything we need. He lives in the intracoastal not far from her, and there’s a skiff in the small marina attached to the condo that’s registered to him. Stationery, explosives, it’s all there. The cops are already on it.”

I exhaled. “Good.”

“You good? You want me to send Talerco over?”

“I’m fine.” I had first aid shit at my condo, and I’d told Sawyer to take us there before I’d gotten her out of the other SUV.

Luna paused.

“What?” He needed to spit it out, and I needed to get off the phone and check on Calandra.

“I’m giving you two weeks off,” Luna clipped.

My back stiffened. “What the fuck for?” I’d never taken time off, not even the last time I got shot.

“Take the time. Get her out of your system. Fuck, make it stick. Do something. But don’t ever pull that shit again on the job, you hear me?”

My nostrils flared. “Copy that.”

Luna sighed. “Don’t give me attitude. You know what you did.”

I wasn’t fucking pissed he was calling me on my shit, I was pissed about what he’d said about getting her out of my system, but I didn’t say shit. Turned out it didn’t matter, because he read me like a book.

“ Dios mio ,” he muttered. “You fucking serious? You think this shit is real.”

With her? “Yes.” Without a doubt. I pulled her closer.

“Twenty-fucking-four hours and you think your ass what? Fell in love? ”

I glanced down at the woman in my arms. Blood smeared on her cheek, her dress a mess, her hair falling out of its decorative clip, she wore a necklace with more jewels than I’d ever seen in one place. Clutching a handful of the tuxedo she’d bought me that was now ruined, she wasn’t just stunning…

She was everything I’d ever wanted.

I answered Luna truthfully. “Yeah.”

“Cristo,” he chuckled. “That’s gotta be a new company record.”

I was competitive enough to almost crack a smile. “See you in two weeks.”

“Copy that.” Luna hung up.

Not wanting to touch her until I fucking showered, but not able to help myself, I kissed the top of her head. Her arm tightened around my waist, and we sat in silence the rest of the way to my condo. Sawyer drove into the underground parking and pulled up to the elevator.

He caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “I’ll have your car brought over. Marek and Brandt are sweeping the yacht for explosives and double-checking the grounds. Then they’re out. Need anything else?”

“Oh my God,” Calandra interrupted. “I’ve left Genevieve all alone at the party.” She looked at me. “I need to get over there.”

I glanced at her dress. “Sweetheart, you can’t walk in with blood all over you.” I looked at Sawyer. “Check on Genevieve, brief her, give her the abbreviated version. Then let her know we’ll be late. Can you bring something back for Calandra to wear?”

His jaw ticked, but he nodded once .

Calandra exhaled. “Thank you, Mr. Sawyer. Genevieve can pick a dress from my closet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thanks, Sawyer.” I opened the door and scanned the garage out of habit, then held my hand out to Calandra.

Her expression pensive, she took my hand and got out.

I led us to the elevator, but when the doors closed, she dropped her gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “Harrison is dead, isn’t he?”

Both Sawyer and Collins had fired. Two taps to the head and two to the heart. The second shot to the head was the one that’d fucking sprayed me and the SUV, but I didn’t tell her that. I simply nodded in acknowledgement. “He had a history of doing this to other women.”

Calandra exhaled, twisting her hands. “I should have seen it.”

“How? He was using an alias, and he’d been targeting women for over a decade. He had plenty of practice. I didn’t see it, and I’m paid to see it.” I was still pissed as hell at myself for that.

Her gaze still on her feet, she lowered her voice. “Did you kill him?”

I tipped her chin so her eyes were back on me. “No, I did not, but I was intending to. Sawyer and Collins beat me to it.”

Her voice went whisper quiet. “You’ve killed before?”

“Yes.” Always in the line of duty.

“Is that…” She bit her bottom lip again. “Does that weigh on you?”

Every muscle in my body went still, but adrenaline surged, and I was suddenly on high alert. “Does that weigh on you?” I asked calmly.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No.”

“No it doesn’t weigh on you, or no you aren’t answering?”

“The former.”

Inhaling, she nodded once. “I see.”

My defenses kicked into overdrive, and I fought down anger. I’d had this question before. Always from civilians. I didn’t begrudge anyone their opinion, and no one who hasn’t been in war can fully understand what it’s like downrange. But I’d fought for my country, and now I risked my life for a job I believed in.

The elevator doors opened on my floor.

I walked her down the hall and let us in to my place, but I stopped on the threshold.

When she noticed I didn’t follow her inside, she turned.

My back against the door, I kept it open. Then I leveled her with a look I never thought I would be giving her tonight. Or any night. “I’m not educated. I’m not rich, and I don’t know shit about art. That’s three ways I’m going to be a disappointment to you and your father. There’ll be dozens more. I’ll miss dinners, I’ll work crazy hours, I’ll forget an important date, and I’ll refuse to let you pay for shit simply because you can afford it. I’ll leave dishes in the sink, I’ll get blood all over your pretty fucking dress, and I’ll make you mad, pissed probably.” I took a breath. “And if I have to, I’ll kill again, without hesitation.”

She said nothing.

I fucking soldiered on. “But one thing I won’t ever do is take you for granted. I’m not going to give you a fairy-tale life. I can’t offer you anything like what you came from. I can only give you something that’ll be better than how I grew up.” I paused. “And if you let me, I’ll love the hell out of you. But if you need more than what I can give, tell me now. No hard feelings, I’ll take you home.”

“In a bloody, ruined tuxedo?” she asked in her proper accent.

My heart fucking sank. “Yes.” Jesus fucking Christ .

Her voice softened. “Damian.”

I whipped my phone out. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’d misread the hell outta this. Goddamn it, I needed Sawyer to get my car here right fucking now. I wasn’t gonna stand around and shoot the shit with her. I was done. The job was done. I did what I was paid to do.

God-fucking-damn it .

“ Damian .”

I looked up midtext .

Her expression smug, and proper, and too fucking close to looking like the cat that ate the damn canary, a small smile touched her lips. “Are you going to listen to me now?”

No. “Yeah.” I sent the two word text. Car. Now.

“I don’t want the life I grew up in. If I did, I would still be on Naximos, and I would be next in line for the throne. I made a decision a long time ago that I wasn’t going to let love ever hurt me again. That included the love of a country. So, I left.”

My heart fucking pounding, I stood Marine still.

Her expression turned pensive. “I never wanted to meet anyone, let alone fall in love. The one person I’d loved with all my heart left me as a child and that….” She cleared her throat. “It changes a person.” Inhaling, she squared her shoulders. “I wanted a self-contained life. A quiet life. One I could control and schedule and rely on a routine to keep me safe. Safe from my own thoughts and disappointments.”

I didn’t say shit. I couldn’t.

She dropped her gaze. “I never expected a dark-haired stranger with eyes the color of the ocean back home to turn my life around in twenty-four hours. I never thought he’d make me want everything I swore I wouldn’t allow myself to have.” She looked back up. “You do not disappoint me, Damian Tyler. Quite the opposite. You make me feel special.”