Unexpected Heroine (Redleg Security #6)

1. Calgon, take me away

Chapter 1

Calgon, take me away

LETTIE

A s a kid, I was terrified of a few things.

Monsters hiding under my bed.

Reptiles—especially lizards and snakes.

And sleeping alone in the dark.

At age twenty-five, I no longer fear the monsters hiding under the bed. It’s the ones who look like regular people that are truly frightening. The ones lying in wait, watching from the shadows. They approach you casually in a bar, telling jokes while they fantasize about the horrors they’ll subject you to if you have one more sip of that drink.

Those are the creatures you should fear. The animals hiding in plain sight.

The savages I’ve faced over the last few days put all my childhood terrors to shame.

Tonight, I somehow escaped from their clutches with my life. At least, I hope that’s what’s happening. It’s all so surreal. Perhaps it’s just a dream.

It feels real, though.

If I can trust what I’m seeing, smelling, and touching, then I’m cocooned in the arms of the man I love in the back of a van. A couple of the other girls from the nightmare house and some of our rescuers are with us.

A few minutes ago, they whisked us out of there in a blur. We sped away, tires squealing. It was like something out of a movie.

My weary body jostles in James’s lap as the van comes to a stop. “Where are we?” Clinging to him for dear life, I whip my head around, angling for a better view. “Is this the police station?”

“No, sugar bear. It’s the hospital.”

Although he attempts to bring me in along with the other girls, I manage to convince him I don’t require medical care. He resists initially, but my panic-stricken begging does the trick.

Acquiescing, he kisses the top of my head. “You’re safe now, sugar bear.” He tightens his hold, keeping me snug in his embrace.

Relief pours over me as I let oxygen leave my lungs in a lingering stream.

For the first time in days, I succumb to exhaustion and willingly let my eyes drift closed.

I must nod off, because I’m startled awake when the van stops again. Like before, my pulse spikes instantly, and another surge of adrenaline ratchets through my veins.

“Easy, Lettie,” he soothes.

Blinking away some of the grogginess, I squint out the window, hoping to get my bearings. “Where are we now?” It looks like an office building.

“A safe place. We need to go inside for a few minutes. I’ll make it quick, and then we’ll leave. Don’t worry. I’ll carry you.”

Without waiting for my response, he shuffles us out of the van. The crisp sea breeze whooshes by us, whipping my hair around. Normally, I love the nightly winds that come off the nearby ocean. Tonight, it sets off a domino effect of pain that traverses my entire body.

Ratty strands of my hair slap into a cut under my eye. I hiss at the unexpected sting, dragging a sudden influx of oxygen into my lungs. As my torso expands, my rib cage throbs. I’m reminded of how sore my limbs are when my arms and legs tense in response to the ache in my midsection.

The only thing that dulls the throbbing throughout my body is that I’m still wrapped up in his arms.

I never thought I’d see him again.

He pulses his hands gingerly under my backside in response to my whole-body flinch. “Am I hurting you? Where’s the pain, sweetness?”

Everywhere.

But I don’t say that.

Tears pool in my eyes. Only it’s not in response to my physical pain. It’s from the anguish I put on his handsome face with my recklessness.

The sorrow is etched onto his features, from the tight set of his jaw to the creases lining his forehead.

And his eyes.

They’re coated in sadness, dulling their normal vibrancy.

Attempting to comfort him, I offer a sad smile. “You aren’t hurting me.”

He presses his lips into a thin line and hefts me toward the building. I rest my head on his shoulder, my eyelids growing heavy. The rise and fall of his steps lull me.

When we enter the building, the chill of the air conditioning and bright lights jerk me from my moment of respite. My head pops off his shoulder, and my eyes widen like saucers. Every muscle tenses as if my fight-or-flight response has been triggered.

Fucking hell. Get a grip, Lettie. Every time I open my eyes, I’m launched right back into a state of panic.

Suddenly, it dawns on me that I have no clue where he’s taking me.

“Where are we going?”

“Locker room.” He tips his chin over my shoulder, but I don’t take my eyes off his face, fearful he’ll disappear. “I should have something in there for you to wear. After that, we’ll go upstairs for a minute. Then we’ll get you home. Okay?”

My stomach bottoms out. “To your house, right?”

“Of course, sugar bear. I’m gonna take care of you.”

All I can do is nod and fight the wobble of my chin. If I try to speak, I’ll cry.

It’s stupid to think he’d just deposit me on my front stoop with a pat on my head, acting like the worst thing imaginable hasn’t happened.

Vaguely, as if off in the distance, I hear low murmurs. People talking. Waves of light waft past my eyes, but my lids are drooping.

Days of panic, exhaustion, and grueling pain have rendered me unable to focus on anything but the comforting embrace and safety provided by the man I love more than life itself.

Too bone-tired to hold my head up any longer, I return it to his shoulder. Despite longing for sleep, I’m terrified of letting myself drift off.

What if I wake up and I’m still in that house? Or what if the nightmares come, reminding me of the horrors we all endured? What if James leaves me while I’m asleep?

Stop it, Lettie. He’s not leaving you. James would never.

The lighting around us shifts. I blink and attempt to focus, noting we’ve moved from an expansive lobby into a hallway.

Peeking over James’s shoulder, I notice Tasha and her boyfriend being led by two of our rescuers. There’s another man with them, his arms tied behind his back. Despite my hazy thoughts, I recognize him instantly—the creepy Russian from the bar.

The one from the house who . . .

Bile rises in the back of my throat. My grip on James tightens. Blinking the memories away, I nuzzle into his chest and pretend none of it happened.

It wasn’t real.

He can’t hurt me anymore.

James stops in front of a door and scans his thumbprint to unlock it, shuffling me a bit in the process. Then he swiftly carries me through a room that smells faintly of disinfectant and dried sweat.

I haven’t the foggiest idea why that would be. Perhaps I’m losing it.

The squirrel who runs my tragic excuse for a brain has passed out from exhaustion, hunger, and thirst.

For now, all I care about is that I’m with James. He’s saved me. He’s in control.

So long as that is real, I’ll be fine.

My alertness returns when he stops at another door and slowly sets me down.

It’s the men’s locker room.

The air in my lungs vanishes as I realize I’m about to be left alone.

He tugs open the door, attempting to usher me in.

I put up a piddly amount of resistance, pointing at the word Men on the door. “I can’t go in there.”

Assuming he’s going to enter without me, I prepare to be left alone. My neck swivels, allowing me to survey the expansive space of the gym. Instinctively, I gather my arms in front of my stomach and shift my back to rest against the wall for some semblance of protection.

He huffs with a tinge of annoyance and tugs me toward the door. “You’re not leaving my side.” He scoops me up again.

“Oh, thank goodness.”

Although this seems like a safe space, I don’t want to be alone.

Maybe never again.

James sets me down again when he comes to a wall of lockers. He enters his code on the keypad to open the door.

Reaching into a bag, he retrieves a pair of sweatpants. “I don’t have a shirt in here. I’m sorry, sugar. I’ll give you mine.”

“No. This is good enough. I’m covered on top.”

“Yeah, but I want that filthy thing off you.”

Same.

But the shirt isn’t the source of the filth.

He kneels in front of me, holding the pants open. I step into each leg with one hand on his shoulder to steady myself. I roll the waistband over twice to avoid tripping over the extra length.

Given my weary state, it’s a strong possibility. A tired Lettie is statistically ten times more accident-prone.

Next, he pulls out some flip-flops. “Glad I keep these here for using the shower. You’d never be able to walk in my sneakers.” He’s still squatting, so he slips them on my tired feet for me.

Seeing him down there, caring for me this way, threatens to split my heart in two.

I don’t know whether the emotion overload is from how lovingly he’s handling me or because of how much I missed him. Regardless of why, I’m seconds from breaking down. A swarm of heavy emotion rises from my gut, strangling my windpipe. The effect is compounded by an underlying fear that this is all a hallucination.

What if this isn’t real?

“James?” My voice quavers, desperation hitting me in powerful waves. “This is happening, right? I’m not dreaming? You really saved me?”

He stands swiftly, cupping my cheeks with utter tenderness. “Yes, it’s real. You’re safe, sugar bear. I’ve got you, and I won’t leave your side. I promise.”

Tears I’m too weak to stop stream down my cheeks. He encircles me, folding himself around my body. I soak up every ounce of solace he offers.

Once I nearly get a grip on the tears, my muscles start twitching as a sudden bout of tremors skirts through my body. My knees quiver, and my lungs flutter in my chest. “Why-why am I sh-shaking?”

“It’s probably the adrenaline leaving your body, sweetness. Don’t worry. I got you.”

He keeps me close until the shaking ebbs.

After kissing my forehead, he bends to level his face with mine and wipes my cheeks dry with his thumbs. “We need to go upstairs now so I can return my weapons. It’ll be quick. Then I’ll take you home and clean you up. I’m gonna fix it, Lettie baby. I’ll fix everything. I’ll take care of you. I promise it’s all going to be fine. I swear.”

I want to tell him there’s nothing to fix, but that’s a lie. There are pieces of me that are truly broken, and I’m not sure they’ll ever be repaired.

I also want to tell him he can’t fix this, but I don’t want to dash his hopes. Now, more than ever, I understand how important hope can be.

Instead, I simply nod, allowing him to cling to the idea that he can make any of this better.

I’ll cling to it too.

He kisses my forehead again, letting his warm, soft lips linger. All too soon, he guides me out of the locker room.

Once we’re in the hallway, he offers to carry me again. I decline, needing to stand on my own two feet. As much as I crave his comfort, I don’t want to appear broken to the strangers who saved me tonight.

Even if I am, they don’t need to see it.

When we get into the elevator, James pushes me to the front corner, standing in a protective posture between the others and me. I peek around him, noticing a pretty redhead. The man beside her stands close, his hand resting around her waist. They share a look that makes my cheeks warm.

I glance up at James, who is as stoic as ever. With his eyes cast straight ahead, the only outward sign of his emotions is a tic in his jaw.

What he must have gone through these last few days.

He must sense me looking up at him, because his stone-faced stare finally breaks, slinking down to mine. The skin above the bridge of his nose crinkles. We stay locked in each other’s gazes until the elevator slows.

The redhead shuffles her feet, catching my attention. I meet her friendly green eyes, offering a tip of my chin. It’s the best I can manage.

James points his head at her subtly. “That’s Mia. We wouldn’t have found you without her help.”

My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. I want to thank her, but I can’t find the words, so my jaw just hangs as I stare.

Dumbstruck as a newborn giraffe hitting the ground from six feet high.

Hell, I should thank all of them. Hugs and high fives all around while I spew a litany of gratitude on them. They deserve it. And I am grateful, all the way down to my marrow. For me and the others they saved.

But I can’t muster anything other than a teary-eyed nod in her direction.

When the elevator doors open, her mouth turns down at the corners in a soft pout.

“It’s okay, Violet. You don’t have to say anything,” Mia whispers. “I know you’re overwhelmed. You’ve been through a lot. But you’re going to be okay.”

A bucket load of guilt fills my chest. How could I ever have unkind thoughts about her? I’m such a fool.

We exit the elevator and swiftly make our way down a long hallway with offices lining both sides. I attempt to take inventory of my surroundings, but all I can concentrate on is the soft padding of footsteps and the feel of a familiar hand holding mine.

My vision fades in and out. Occasionally, a barrage of chills dances along my spine, causing a full-body shudder. More of that adrenaline crash, I suppose. Or not. How would I know?

It’s quiet in the office as we march along. All the while, I keep my grip clamped tightly on James, sometimes grasping him with both hands. His steady presence guides me even when my eyesight clouds over.

For a fleeting moment, it dawns on me that I’m likely walking through James’s office. Mia is his coworker, and she’s here. And James had a locker in this building.

Yeah. This must be where he works.

It’s a place I’ve been curious about before, but now, all I want is to leave.

The entire brigade stops at a closed set of double doors. James and I are at the front of the group.

He swipes his badge and puts his thumb on the sensor to unlock the door. And then he pulls me in with him, keeping me close.

Upon entering, it seems to be a storage room of sorts. But not for office supplies.

This is a weapons room.

What the hell?

One of the taller men says, “T, you know she’s not allowed in here.”

“T?” I parrot inquisitively, unable to bite my tongue.

No one answers me.

James’s eyes widen, nearly doubling in size as he stares down the larger, intimidating man. Despite their size difference, James doesn’t cower.

If looks could kill.

“Whatever,” the other man replies in a huff. “We’ve broken all the other rules tonight. What’s a few more?” He strolls over to a shelf and begins unloading items from his vest.

James does the same.

Wait. Did he answer to T? Maybe it’s a nickname or something. Add it to my rapidly growing list of wonderings. Just pile it on there like gobs of melted cheese on fries.

Mmm . I want cheesy fries.

When James said he worked at a security company, I pictured something a lot less intense. This is overwhelming on so many levels.

What was it that Mama used to say when she was stressed?

Ah yes. Calgon, take me away.

Whoever Calgon is, I could use his divine intervention right about now.

After James removes his vest and the items from the various pockets and compartments, he leads me out. At a brisker pace, we continue our trek through the building.

“This is my office,” James mutters, ducking us into a large room.

Okay, so this is definitely where he works.

There’s no sign on the door, but you can see the spot where one would be. It strikes me as odd, but I quickly become distracted by the wide expanse of the room and all the tech equipment. A large bank of screens takes up one wall, and computers are everywhere I look.

James stops short, his grip on my hand tightening. When my eyes break away from the blinking lights on the various machines, they land on a hulking figure wearing a pissed-off expression. His huge arms are crossed at his chest. Another man stands beside him, even angrier than the giant.

My breath recoils into the back of my throat. Reflexively, I tuck my body close to James’s side, letting him shield me. Thankfully, he does.

Fear sends a jolt of energy through my veins, and my senses sharpen. I’m struck mute while the others enter the room and surround us. One by one, they freeze when they see the two men with icy glares. Tension prickles in the air like static electricity.

Nobody speaks.

Well, not with words. Their faces do plenty of communicating, though.

The man who was cuddled up to Mia in the elevator comes tripping in, jovial as the first day of spring. “What’s with the long faces? Once again, Redleg saved the day.”

He stutters to a stop when he sees the hostile-looking men, and his demeanor instantly plummets. “Oh shiiit .”

Seems appropriate if my read on the vibe is anything to go by.

Earlier, in the van, I heard them talk about someone named Big Al . I bet that giant-looking dude is him.

Mia’s jolly beau is the first to speak. Again . “Hi, Boss. Working late tonight?”

He’s addressing the smaller of the two men. Although smaller is relative. They’re both imposing figures. I guess it’s safe to assume the man in charge is the shorter one. He seems older than the rest, the beginning streaks of gray at his temples. The other must be his muscle. Like an enforcer or something.

The boss starts in, his eyes bouncing around the faces of my rescuers. “I didn’t want to be. I was having a fantastic fucking evening until I checked to ensure all was well at my company. Only to find that the armory had multiple badge swipes. That seemed odd, considering none of our cases were above a yellow threat level. So I poked around to see what could possibly warrant full tactical gear for this many people.” He pauses to pace around the room, getting in each of their faces. “And boy, oh boy, was I surprised to see what was being broadcast here to this room.”

What was being broadcast? Something tells me I’m not going to find out.

James shuffles me behind him when the boss dude gets close. Not hiding me entirely. But enough to make it clear that he’s protecting me.

I love this man.

For all the grief he gives himself about how shitty he is with reading social cues and emotions, he’s doing fantastic with me tonight. Giving me exactly what I need to feel secure in this baffling and traumatic situation.

I’ll always take care of you, Lettie. He’s said it so many times, and I’ve never doubted it.

As the boss studies how James has positioned us, his face relaxes a little. “Get the girl out of here, T.” His tone is much softer now. “Put her in a spare office and get your ass back. I don’t want to scare her. She’s obviously had it rough.”

Not liking the sudden attention on me, I grip James’s arm tighter, moving a step closer so there’s only an inch separating us.

Wait. Why is everyone calling him T?

When James doesn’t remove me as ordered, his boss points his chin at the door and hardens his features. “Go.”

“All due respect, Boss, but she stays with me.” James wobbles his head slightly, almost as if he’s fighting something internally. “Sorry. But I’m not doing this tonight. I only came back to drop off our gear and get my laptop. I won’t upset her any worse than she already is.” He glances down at me, compassion bathing his features. “I’m taking her home.”

Bending by one of the desks, he grabs his laptop and tosses it into a bag with a few other things. Then he’s back at my side, leading me toward the door.

He stops beside Mia, hovering close to her. “Can you make sure everything gets handled before you leave? Lead a debrief?”

Mia replies, “Yes. Go on.” Then her eyes fall to mine. “Take care, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” I eke out, my voice shaky and hoarse.

A pathetic attempt to express my gratitude, but it’ll have to do for now.

Mia’s boyfriend claps James on his shoulder. “We got it, T.”

There it is again. What in hell’s bells is that all about?

James tugs me toward the door. “Come on, sugar.”

When we’re about three steps out the door, the boss’s deep voice bellows, “Tomer, what the hell do—” His words are cut off.

I glance over my shoulder but can’t see who stopped him or why he...

Hold up. Wait a fancy fucking minute.

Sure, I’m foggy-minded as hell, but something strange is happening.

The tension from the scene back there and the resulting confusion must lurch me out of my sleep-like haze.

Without thinking it through, I pelt him with questions. “Why do they keep calling you T? Was that your boss? Why is he mad that you saved me? And how did you save me? What’s happening?”

I stop ranting to suck in a huge swell of oxygen, then immediately regret it because of the rib pain it brings. Air hisses through my teeth.

Without answering my questions, James picks me up to save me from chasing him in my injured state. My thighs wrap around his waist, and I squeeze him tightly despite every throbbing muscle and bone in my body.

Then he’s moving again, barreling us through the building like he’s late for church on Easter Sunday and afraid he won’t be able to find a parking spot.

Or then again . . . perhaps he’s running from something.

When he gets me in the elevator, he finally meets my impatient stare. A hurricane brews behind his turquoise eyes. “I just need to get you home. I promise I’ll talk to you about my job later. And my boss. None of it matters tonight. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe. Please , just let me take care of you, okay?”

The anguish in his tone would break me if I wasn’t already broken.

My sinuses sting, and my pulse pounds. Tears overflow and spill down my cheeks when I finally utter my acceptance of his request.

It’s only one word.

Because I’ve never needed anyone to take care of me like I need him to now.

“Please.”