Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Landon
I don’t know if I was just saved by the bell or cock blocked by it. Either way, I adjust my T-shirt to cover my erection before padding toward the door. I know it’s Rage but I check the security camera anyway before I open it.
“Morning.” I let him in and lock the door behind us.
He’ll notice that I’m sporting wood if I’m not careful, so I excuse myself to the restroom before he has a chance.
By the time I come out, my hormones are under control and I hear Rage and Allora talking in the kitchen. The same kitchen where I just kissed her and got myself all worked up—knowing Rage was on his way over. It wasn’t intentional. The kiss felt inevitable after we talked but now I’m distracted.
And horny as fuck.
I’ve been doing this bodyguard thing for a long time now, and I’ve never been this attracted to a client before. Or felt the same pull. I keep trying to tell myself it’s because of what happened to her, that I feel protective since I’m the one who rescued her, but it’s more than that.
She’s obviously beautiful, but I also respect her courage, the way she’s handled herself.
A lot of women would crumble under the pressure and shame—I’ve seen it more times than I’d like—but not Allora.
She’s determined not to let this take away her independence and the way she lives her life.
Her strength and resilience are admirable, even though it worries me a bit as well.
At some point, the trauma is going to catch up to her.
Like the nightmare she had the other night.
I’m no psychologist, but this is similar to situations I saw in the military.
Guys who were too proud to seek out help after some of the shit we experienced in the Middle East, so they went home and tried to pretend nothing happened. And it rarely worked out well for them.
Even me.
I didn’t think I needed to talk about it until I did.
In my case, it was more about losing myself in the work and not having any kind of work-life balance.
The harder I worked, the less time I had to let my demons get to me.
Then my sister got involved and knocked some sense into me.
In turn, I dragged Rage with me to group therapy for veterans and it turned out to be a good thing.
I’m a better man for it and I think Allora will be better too.
It just might be too soon to push for that kind of thing, especially since we’re still trying to protect her while we search for the guys who did this.
By the time I get to the kitchen, she and Rage have put everything in the dishwasher and cleaned up.
“You guys packed?” Rage asks.
I nod. “Yup. Ready to hit the road.”
“I think Allora should ride with me,” he says. “Just a precaution. I’m the wild card in this scenario. I’m also going to go straight there. I think you should make some random stops. Drug store. Gas. Whatever the case may be.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
I see Allora frown. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s thinking that I’m trying to avoid her or something because we kissed.
Not the issue at all.
“Allora, I want you to change.”
“What?” She looks startled. “Why?”
“Come with me.” I go into my bedroom and straight to the closet, pulling out a Dodgers baseball cap and a blue hoodie Courtney left here once that I almost forgot about. I toss them at her. “Put your hair up so it’s under the cap and put on the hoodie even if you’re not cold.”
“Why?” She asks the question again even as she follows directions.
“So that from a distance, you might not look like a gorgeous blond and maybe pass for a teenage boy.” I wince even as I say it. “I said at a distance,” I add hurriedly.
But she’s not upset. She’s smart enough to understand the plan.
“Got it.” She wastes no time stuffing her hair under the hat. “I should wipe off the makeup.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just thought of it now.”
“No worries.” She walks into the bathroom and quickly takes off most of the makeup. “Better?” she asks when she comes out.
“Perfect.” I nod and grab her luggage.
“Let’s do this.” Rage takes her bags. “Let’s leave together but you take the stairs and we’ll take the elevator.”
We separate in the hallway, but I give her a quick wink before I turn away.
I trust Rage with my life and that of my family, so why am I unhappy about this change of plans?
It’s the right move but I’m unsettled that she’s not with me.
Rage would die before letting anyone get to her, so I know she’s safe, but I can’t explain this soul-deep feeling that it’s my job to protect her, not anyone else’s. Not even my best friend.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This is a job.
Protect the client.
Find the bad guys.
Get paid.
End of story.
Yeah, right.
I shake my head as I turn my truck toward the freeway.
Allora is a hell of a lot more than a client.
At the very least, we’ve become friends.
That kiss this morning tells me there’s more to it than that.
But how much more? A short-term affair that will end once the job is over?
Friends with benefits? My gut tells me she won’t be happy with something like that.
Or is she just looking for a one-time event that will prove that she still has control of both her body and her sexuality?
I’d be down for that if she framed it that way, but Rage interrupted us before we could get into the nitty-gritty. Of course, if he hadn’t, we might be naked in my bed right now and there wouldn’t have been any nitty-gritty. Not of the conversation kind anyway.
Instead of overthinking, I call Daniil.
The best cure for distractions is work.
“You on the way?” he asks by way of greeting.
“Yeah. She’s with Rage, they’re a few minutes ahead of me but I’m going to make a few stops, make sure I don’t have a tail.”
“Okay.”
“Any news?”
“Actually, Silver is on his way for a meeting. They’ve done some digging and we want to share intel.”
“Silver?” I ask with a laugh.
“He told me to call him Silver. What am I supposed to say? It’s a dumb name and I’d rather call you Theodore?”
We both laugh at the thought of saying something like that to him.
“Do we have any intel?” I ask after a moment.
He sighs. “Not really. Is there a trafficking ring? Yes. Teenagers and women in their early twenties have been disappearing for the last five years. There are at least fifteen missing persons reports. The thing is, Allora doesn’t fit the profile.
She’s older than the others and has a support system.
Every other one of the alleged victims was either an illegal immigrant, a sex worker, or homeless.
There’s definitely something different about Allora’s kidnapping. ”
“Like they targeted her specifically instead of just grabbing convenient sex workers or homeless people.”
“Right. Don’t get me wrong, they must do a little recon, making sure they’re taking women who won’t be missed much. A few homeless people saying the teenager in the blue tent hasn’t been home for a few days isn’t going to be a priority for the cops.”
“But think about it, Dan—no one looked for Allora for two whole days. They would have eventually, but they had her for forty-eight hours and no one noticed because she’s a busy adult with a career and no partner.”
“Right. Still, that’s fishy to me. Did they really spend that much time watching her? Knowing no one would miss her for at least a few days? And looking for the opportunity to grab her on the street where anyone could have seen? I don’t know, this whole thing bothers me.”
“And they already figured out who I am,” I add. “So, if they don’t know she’s with me, they at least suspect.”
“Which begs the question, how do they know who you are? Just from your face?”
“You mean you think they have someone on the inside, a cop?”
“What else could it be? That guy wouldn’t have had time to get your license plate as he was speeding away from you, would he?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, “but something about this rubs me the wrong way.”
“Agreed.”
“All right, I’ll be there in about ninety minutes. We can talk then.”
“See you then.”
We disconnect and I stare out at the road.
Was Allora targeted?
If she was, it means it was someone close to her. An ex-boyfriend? Lover? A jealous colleague? It’s hard to imagine this kind of revenge but it happens.
Now it’s my job to figure it out.