7. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
AJ
B lake was even more captivating in person, despite her bratty attitude and the scowl on her face. I forced myself to look away whenever I caught myself staring. Which was a lot.
When she turned her head, her shoulder-length blond hair moved just enough to reveal a pink stripe. Rebellion? Lost a bet? School spirit? All the cool kids were doing it? I couldn’t help but wonder why a rich politician’s daughter would dye her hair with a bright pink stripe.
My eyes drifted to Blake repeatedly, as if they had a mind of their own. I watched as she struggled to hide her fear and annoyance.
I wasn’t a profiler like Maxwell, or an experienced detective like John, but my gut said this wasn’t a prank.
Her father played with his class ring, a sign he believed the threat was real, even if Blake didn’t. Blake could insist it was a prank until the cows came home, but I wasn’t buying it.
Something about his behavior felt off. What isn’t he telling us?
His young wife, the epitome of a trophy wife, with her perfectly styled hair, excessive bling, and manicured nails, looked irritated.
At the situation? At Blake?
To limit how much time I spent staring at Blake, I noted my observations, forcing myself to be more detailed than necessary. My behavior was borderline creepy. Not that she noticed; Blake avoided making eye contact with everyone except John and Max.
It made sense she’d expect to find a kindred spirit in Max, but the joke was on her—Maxwell was one of the toughest people I knew. She wasn’t a let’s do our nails and talk about our feelings kind of girl. She held her own any time she faced one of us on the mat, her gender and size irrelevant when facing us in unarmed combat. Well, some of us . She had yet to beat me or Doug. And she was a badass on the range, too.
“I’ll have Meg draw up the contract for twenty-four-seven coverage for Ms. Davenport, including a car and driver,” John said. “We’ll order forensics on the note and investigate to determine who sent the threat.”
Blake had given up arguing, but I saw her roll her eyes when John said driver. Her picture might have captured my heart, but her attitude was a turnoff. She needed to stop acting like a spoiled teenager and accept reality.
If this was a prank, someone would have come forward by now . No one would let something like this go on long enough to scare the prankee.
“Given the personal detail in the note, it may be from someone who attended your dinner party on Friday. If you could email a list of the attendees, we’ll start there.”
Blake’s head shot up. The look of fear in her eyes as she looked at John felt like a shot to my gut.
Protect her! The desire to eliminate any and every threat so she'd never feel fear again flooded my system. It didn't make sense, but I couldn't deny the strongest desire to protect anyone I'd ever felt in my life.
Fuck. Was this what the guys felt when they fell in love?
Love?
Double fuck. They’d never let me hear the end of it if they could read my mind.
“I’ll email the list later today,” Mr. Davenport said.
“Thank you,” John said before addressing Blake. “Ms. Davenport, I understand this is disruptive and I assure you, we’ll do everything in our power to sort this out as quickly as we can,” John said.
“Thank you.” She said the words, but they lacked sentiment.
The meeting was almost over when Blake finally looked up and made eye contact. Anger flashed across her features before she looked away.
What the hell did I do to piss her off?
“Can I go now?” Blake asked.
John made eye contact, a silent question in his expression. I nodded. I only needed a few minutes to gear up and grab the keys to one of the SSI bulletproof sedans.
I stood.
“This is AJ Janerek. He’ll be with you for the next two days. Jaden Sheppard will be outside the house in the evenings.” Jaden stood and nodded towards Blake.
Blake glared at me. Damn! So much attitude in one look. How was I so drawn to her when she couldn’t even look at me without a scowl on her beautiful face? I broke eye contact and closed my laptop.
“I’ll escort you downstairs. AJ will be right behind us. He’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
My boss was one hell of a leader; who else could give an order without giving an order? There was no doubt I’d be ready to go in eight, because after what happened last week there was no way in hell I’d be late.
After they left, Jamie asked, “What are your thoughts, Max?”
“I’d get more from the note if it was hand-written, but given the word choice and details, I’d say it’s real. Davenport's scared, despite his attempts to hide it.” She tapped her pen on the table. Something else was bothering her.
“I got the same impression,” Jack added. “Blake doesn’t want to believe it’s real, but she’s scared, too.”
I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt her .
“Feel free to email me if anything comes up. I’ll do what I can around my trial schedule.”
I didn’t envy her the next few days; she’d be stuck sitting in a courtroom waiting to be called to testify for a case she’d helped solve as an FBI profiler.
Maxwell had agreed to attend the early meeting to get a read on the Davenports and analyze the note, but she couldn’t stay. She might not be buddy-buddy with the rest of us, but she was a team player and dedicated to her work. We knew she’d be available in the evenings if we needed her.
“Did anyone else notice the looks Priscilla was giving Blake?” I asked.
“Yeah, she almost looked jealous, which is insane,” Max agreed. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. “It’s worth looking into.”
“Agreed. Women who marry for money and status often go to extreme lengths to get, and keep, what they want,” Jack said.
I looked at my watch and was about to leave when Jamie said, “AJ, it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. College campuses are a hive of activity, so keep your eyes up and your head on a swivel. And wear your vest.”
“Yes, sir.” He was right—it didn’t need to be said. “Text me with updates. I’m going back to college.” I chuckled. Having earned my associate's degree online, I'd never attended a class on a college campus.
Though I’ve spent the night in a dorm room or two.
Jack stopped me just outside the conference room door. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You don’t seem like yourself, and you were staring at Blake like a man possessed,” Jack said.
“Just looking for clues, honing my PI skills.” I laughed it off. “I gotta run. Can’t be late twice in… well, ever.”
Jack clapped me on the shoulder with a laugh. “Be careful.”
“Always.” I said as I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time as I rushed to my office. We had gear lockers in our offices, and I had to grab my rifle, just in case , and my soft vest. Knowing my fitted SSI polo wouldn’t hide it, I changed into a looser t-shirt, then tossed on a flannel. I didn’t know how college kids dressed, but this would have to do for today.
When I walked into the lobby with a minute to spare, Blake greeted me with an impatiently tapping foot and a look that could freeze a flame.
“Ms. Davenport, I’m AJ.” I stuck out my hand to offer a formal introduction. It wasn’t necessary but I hoped to lessen her animosity towards me.
She craned her head back so her heart-crushing blue eyes could look up at me. I’d noticed she was short when she walked into the conference room, but didn’t realize just how short until I was standing next to her. Towering over her. She can’t be more than five-foot-four . I amended my guess when I saw her heels. Blake was about five-foot-two.
Blake huffed as she reluctantly shook my hand. “Can we go now?”
Ignoring the zing dancing up my arm, I answered, “Yes, ma’am. The car is in the back.” We had a fenced-in lot in the back for company and personal vehicles. It wouldn’t stop determined thieves, but the cameras, motion sensor lights, and alarms would keep most out.
She didn’t like being called ma’am, according to her flared nostrils and squinted eyes. Damn, she’s sexy when she’s mad .
Nope. I couldn’t think about that. Football stats, they were safe.
“Bye, Daddy,” Blake said as she hugged him. She didn’t bother saying bye to her step-mother.
Blake didn’t want me here. She’d made that perfectly clear on the drive over, but I had a job to do.
I had a feeling she wouldn’t make it easy for me. When I suggested she switch things up, like where she sits in class, she refused. When I told her I’d be within arm's reach at all times, she’d told me to keep my distance.
I was ready to lay my life down to protect her, but she couldn’t be bothered to sit in a different seat or take a different route to class. Definitely a spoiled rich kid.
My opinion of Blake felt at odds with the jolt of emotion her picture had inspired.
Sitting behind her in class, I spent ninety minutes observing the two entry doors; one behind the professor, the other behind the students. Nothing stood out, and no one acted suspiciously.
I also kept a watchful eye on Blake, which was, by far, the easiest part of the job. My hands itched to massage the stress and fear from her tense shoulders.
She’d have a hissy fit if she knew I wanted to touch her.
After class, she hung out with her roommate in the quad. I was standing a few feet away, watching the crowd, when I noticed a big guy sneaking up behind her, a look of determination on his face as he closed the distance.
Hell no. No one touches Blake.
In a flash, I stepped behind Blake, intercepting him. Reaching out and grabbing one wrist, I twisted it as I forced him to his knees.
Blake turned around when she heard the commotion, just as her roommate screamed.
Blake yelled, “What the fuck are you doing? Let him go.”
The guy pleaded his innocence while I held him on his knees. “He was coming at you.” Heads turned towards us as a crowd formed. I released his fat wrist, glad my hand was large enough to hold it tight.
“I was sneaking up to give you a hug,” the guy said to Blake, sounding like a wounded animal. His tone turned angry when faced me. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Back off!”
He acted tough now that I wasn’t holding him down. It might have been more convincing had he been standing.
Her other friend glared at me from behind Blake’s back. Damn, who needs enemies with friends like that? What kind of friend sneaks up on someone with a protection detail, or glares at the guy protecting her friend?
Unless… She didn’t tell them. Shit. I gave the guy some space but didn’t offer to help him stand.
Blake hugged him, her arms barely reaching around his waist, then pulled back and asked, “Are you okay?” Her eyes roamed over him, looking for injuries.
Fuckface said, “No, I’m not. This asshole tackled me for no reason.”
I didn’t tackle him. “I had a reason, I was-”
Blake put her hands on her hips, cutting me off. “No, you didn’t. You had no right to tackle him. You totally over-reacted you big dumb ogre.”
I’d been called a lot of things in my life, many of them unsavory, but never an ogre. Jack will laugh his ass off when he hears about this.
I scanned the crowd, glad they were dispersing now that the action had ended.
My nostrils flared as I watched him hug her again, his hands on her back, his body rubbing against hers.
That I had zero right to be jealous didn’t matter one bit. Watching him touch her pissed me right the fuck off.
Mine!
She wasn’t mine. Hell, she couldn’t stand me. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t shake the feeling that Blake was mine to protect. And protect her, I would.
Whether she likes it or not .
“Blake, can I talk to you?” I asked, indicating we needed privacy.
“You don’t need to listen to him,” Fuckface said.
“Blake?” I asked again, this time with some urgency in my voice.
Her other friend was standing behind them, glaring at me. She rubbed Blake’s back and said, “We should call 9-1-1.”
“Blake.” I channeled John to make it clear I was no longer asking.
Blake turned to her friend. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
Her friends continued to glare as Blake turned and stepped up to me. “Fine,” she spat out. “But make it fast.”
Refusing to let my anger take over, I forced my body to relax as I prepared to follow her a few steps away from her friends.
As she brushed past me, her crossed arms resting on her ample chest, the scent of vanilla and wildflowers filled my nose. Holy hell, she smells fucking amazing .