The Alpha Bodyguards Books #4-6

Chapter Twenty-Eight

M arek pulled the trigger .

The asshole’s head exploded, covering Genevieve in his blood before his body thudded down the steps face-first.

“He could have shot her,” I snarled, pissed beyond words.

A sound, part scream, part cry, and all terror crawled up her throat and let loose.

“Wouldn’t have happened,” Marek stated, like he knew exactly how it was going to go down before he’d pulled the trigger. “Clean her up.” He pushed past me. “Shower out back.”

Using the strap on my rifle, I swung it to my back and reached for her.

“Hot damn.” Talerco shook his head. “Nice shot, Ink.”

“ Dios Mio ,” Luna muttered.

Ty kicked one of the gangbangers lying near the van. “Got one still alive.”

I lifted Genevieve to her feet, only to have her knees buckle.

Marek grabbed the dead carjacker by the back of his shirt and single-handedly dragged him toward the van. There was a brace on his wrist and the side of his head that wasn’t blown away sported a bruise where I’d kicked him—it was the same guy Genevieve had pulled the mask off.

Pushing my hands away, Genevieve cried harder.

Talerco glanced at the mess on the steps. “Ink, where ya keep the bleach?”

Ignoring her attempts to block me, I scooped her up.

“Garage,” Marek clipped, tossing the body into the van.

Covered in blood splatter himself, Luna came up the steps. “I’ll find you some clothes. Shower’s by the south end of the pool.” He nodded toward the side of the house, then walked inside.

I carried a keening, shaking woman in shock down the steps and around the side of the bullet-ridden house.

I hated myself.

I hated every one of her tears. And I hated the goddamn blood staining her innocence. I didn’t have words of comfort. I was angrier than the day my mother shed tears for her cheating husband. Except that wasn’t my fault. This was. Everything that’d happened to Genevieve since she’d walked in that diner was my fault.

I carried her past the pool and to an enclosed outdoor shower. Turning the water on to full heat, I set her on her feet, only to have her slip toward the ground. Already covered in the same blood that was all over her, I wrapped an arm around her and held her to my chest. Sliding my rifle off my shoulder, I leaned it against the fencing enclosing the shower and unholstered my other guns, tossing them on an adjacent bench.

Her voice hoarse, her cries growing quieter, she leaned into me like she had nothing left.

“Come on,” I muttered, stepping her toward the spray. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

No reply, no response, as if she didn’t hear me, she continued to shake and mew like a wounded animal.

I stepped us under the spray.

Water cascaded over her face, and she sputtered out a cough.

I swept my hand over her face, pushing her hair back. “Come on, baby. Let’s wash this off.” I adjusted the water temperature.

She sucked in a breath and looked at me for the first time since I’d walked into Marek’s living room. “It-it’s not this .”

“I know.” I ran my hand over her bloody hair for the second time since I’d known her. “You’re okay, though.”

“No.” She shook her head as a fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes. “No no no no—”

I grasped her face. “You’re safe now. You hear me? Safe,” I enunciated.

A new sob broke free.

I pulled her into my arms.

“Yo, Playboy,” Talerco called from outside the enclosure. “I got clothes for her from her suitcase, a shirt for you, and some towels and soap from Luna.”

“Set them on the bench.” I wasn’t letting go of her right now.

“Y’all decent?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I held her to me, wishing like hell she hadn’t seen what she saw. In the same breath, I wasn’t sorry a single one of those fucks were dead.

Talerco stepped in and set the shit on the bench behind us. Wearing a clean shirt, he eyed Genevieve. “How’s she doin’?”

I pulled her away from my chest just enough to tip her chin. I was an asshole for not checking to make sure she wasn’t physically injured beyond being choked. “Did he hurt you?”

Her gaze distant, she didn’t say anything.

“Hey, darlin’, how ya doin’?” Talerco asked. “We just wanna make sure you’re not injured.”

Leaning against me, her arms still at her sides, she blinked, then inhaled. Pulling her chin out of my grasp, her gaze cut to Talerco. “I’m fine,” she rasped.

Talon smiled as he winked at her. “You’re tough as nails, darlin’, you know that?” His expression sobered. “But if anythin’ changes, you tell me or Playboy, okay?”

She nodded, then dropped her gaze, settling her head against my chest.

Talerco glanced at me. “Garbage bag’s there for your clothes.”

“Copy.” I ran my hand over her hair again.

He looked back at Genevieve. “Darlin’, let me know when you’re ready to get those staples out.”

I answered for her. “After I get her cleaned up.”

Talerco nodded. “Back door’s open. I’ll be inside.” He retreated.

She looked at her shirt, then back up at me. Her voice came out small and rough. “My clothes are ruined.”

“I know.” But not for the reason she thought. The blood would wash off. Trace evidence wouldn’t.

“Did….” She swallowed. “Did you shoot him?”

“No.”

Her shoulders dropped as if she were relieved.

She had to know the truth of who I was. “I didn’t shoot him only because someone else beat me to it.” I grasped the hem of her pink shirt. “Arms up.” She did as I said, and I pulled her shirt over her head.

In an olive-green bra that matched her eyes, her full breasts and hardened nipples stretching the lace material, she looked so damn vulnerable as her arms fell to her sides. “Then who killed him?”

Covered in blood and shed tears, she was still stunning. “I’m not going to tell you that.” Every curve of her body played on my conscience.

“Why?”

“It’s over now. You can get on with your life.” I slid my hands over her hips as my fingers sank into the waistband of her pants.

“But the police—”

“The police will never know about this.” Dropping to one knee, I dragged her leggings down her thighs. Fuck my life, she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Hands on my shoulders,” I ordered, my voice hoarser than it should’ve been.

Still trembling, but not outright shaking, she did exactly as I told her.

My honor gone to shit, my cock grew hard as fuck. I pushed her pants to her ankles, shamelessly taking in the sight of her. “Lift.” Ivory smooth legs, full hips, a small patch of lighter red curls between her legs, I wanted to sink inside her and make her forget, if even for a moment.

She lifted one foot.

I slid one of her flats off, then the other before pulling her pants all the way off. Blood-soaked water cascaded down her legs and washed over her bright yellow toenail polish. Guilt hit me all over again as I stood.

Stripping out of my shirt, I grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squirted some into my hand as she stared down at her chest.

“There’s blood on my bra,” she whispered.

Jesus. I couldn’t take her bra off. If I fucking did, I’d touch her. “I know, baby.” I lathered the soap into her hair.

She looked up at me, and her voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “You called me baby twice.”

“I did.” I had a hundred names I wanted to call her, but none of them made her mine. I rinsed her hair.

“Please,” she barely breathed, leaning into me harder. “Take it off.”

Fuck. “Turn around,” I ordered.

Without hesitation, she turned.

I undid her bra and pushed it off her shoulders. “Rinse,” I clipped.

The bra fell to the ground, and she stepped under the spray completely naked.

My eyes on her, I grabbed the soap and washed my arms and chest. Dragging my gaze over her perfect ass and the soft swell of her hips, I stepped behind her and angled the showerhead to rinse myself off.

Standing in the protection of my body, her head down, her back to me, she reached back and her hands landed on the outsides of my thighs.

Then she pressed her ass into me.

I’d seen death. I’d felt what she was feeling right now. I knew what she wanted.

I wanted it more.

So goddamn much more .

But she didn’t know what she was asking.

Rinsing my face, then angling the spray to our right, I reached to turn off the water.

Her hand covered mine. “ Wait .”