Chapter Three
brONCO
She freezes in my arms, then slowly relaxes.
Can’t say I blame her. Two men just tried to grab her off the street and here I am finishing the job. “Name’s Bronco King. I work for Lone Star Security.”
“You’re the bodyguard my father hired.” Her voice is flat, but she grips me tighter. “How did you find me?”
Sheer fucking luck, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I open the truck door and gently set her on the seat. My coat practically swallows her, but it’s not enough. I grab the blankets I keep in the backseat and tuck them around her. “Later. We gotta move.”
After she’s secure, I crank up the heat and get the hell out of there. Those thugs will be back with reinforcements. This wasn’t some random kidnapping.
I glance at the woman beside me. She’s shivering despite the hot air blasting the cabin, and I don’t like how pale she is.
It’s a cold night, and that wedding dress didn’t cover much before it was ripped.
One of those flimsy little straps broke, leaving the lace holding on with only a prayer, and strips of tattered satin and lace were fluttering every time she moved, giving glimpses of a silky thigh.
The thought of her anywhere near those thugs, looking like she does, makes my stomach knot. I force myself to unclench my hands from the steering wheel and draw a steady breath.
My heart is still jackhammering in my chest. I was doing a grid search of the general area looking for places someone might stash her when I turned onto this street, and a flash of white hit my headlights.
She turned, fighting her attackers, and suddenly I was looking at the woman I’d been hired to protect.
Finding her barefoot in a wedding dress raises a hell of a lot more questions about this case, but it was the stark fear on her face as she begged me not to take her back to her family that changed things.
I couldn’t blindly follow orders. Not when she looked like she’d rather keep running than face that fate.
A primal instinct reared up, demanding I stand between her and anyone who would scare her. Even her own family.
No one will hurt her while she’s under my protection.
I rub the back of my neck, jaw tight. Nothing about this situation or my reaction to her makes sense.
Answers will have to wait. For now, I need to assess her condition, but we need cover.
I drive until I find a large shopping center and park at the end of a row of cars under the light.
“I need to get a look at your injuries,” I tell her.
Camille gives a small nod.
She’s coherent. That’s good.
I leave the truck running and circle around to her side to open the door. I hate that a gust of cold air rushes in, but it can’t be helped. If she needs a hospital, I need to know now.
Kneeling down beside her, I slowly reach for her hands. “I’m going to check your hands and feet, okay? How do you feel?”
“Scared,” she whispers.
Her fingers are cool but not icy like when I found her.
That’s good. Her body is slowly warming up.
I rub her hands gently between mine and meet her luminous eyes.
For a moment, my lungs freeze, like I can’t remember how to breathe.
Then air rushes back in, leaving me feeling. .. strange. Uncomfortable.
“No one’s gonna hurt you, Camille.”
She squeezes my hand lightly, and that tiny show of trust makes me feel like a fucking superhero.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Warming up?” My voice is gruff, like it scraped over rocks on the way out.
“Yes.” She licks her lips, and I do not trace that movement. “Where are we?”
“Outskirts of Midland. I’m going to check the rest of you now.
Tell me what hurts.” I try to make my movements slow, though every minute we sit here makes us more of a target.
Skimming my hands over her arms, I see bruises beginning to form where one man grabbed her.
There’s a scrape on one elbow and a small cut near her shoulder.
“My feet hurt.”
I switch directions and lift one delicate foot, then the other.
Her nails are painted pink, and there’s a little white flower on each of her big toes.
It’s cute. Which is a weird-ass thing to think right now.
Her feet are bruised, and there are several small cuts.
She must have been running without shoes for a while.
“These look shallow. I don’t think you need the hospital, unless you want to go. ”
“No!” The word is sharp in the space between us. She flushes. “I mean, no. Please. They will look there.”
“Your family or the people who took you?”
She hunches in on herself. “Both.”
What would make her so afraid of going back to her family? I lay my hand over hers, hoping to show her she’s safe with me.
“Then we go somewhere else.”
“Where?” she asks quietly.
She looks so fragile; it’s killing me. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her close.
Instead, I reply, “A place no one will look for you.” I’m about to go back to the driver’s side, but there’s one more thing.
.. “You can trust me, Camille. Doesn’t matter who’s paying the bills. Your safety is my only concern.”
“My dad will want me back.” She searches my face, waiting for my response. Testing my words.
Even if I wasn’t drawn to her like I am, this promise would be easy. “Until this threat is resolved, you stay with me.”
Camille relaxes a fraction of an inch and nods. “Thank you, Bronco King.”
Jesus. Hearing my name on those sweet lips sends a bolt of heat through me.
That’s a line you don’t cross, King. Not now. Not ever.
I tuck the blankets back around her, then hustle back behind the wheel and get back on the road. Valor Springs is a few hours away. Time to put distance between her and whoever is threatening her.
She’s silent the entire trip, sitting with her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. She looks regal, like the oil princess I originally pegged her for.
I’ve protected dozens of women through dangerous scenarios over the years. Many fall apart. Some rage or pepper me with a hundred questions, challenging every decision I make. I’ve never safeguarded a woman who held herself this tightly, like if she let it out, she’d shatter.
I don’t engage her or ask questions. Not yet. My priorities are to get her back to my house, get her cleaned up, and bandage her wounds. After that, we’ll talk.
I’m considering what to tell Gray when the gas light comes on. We could probably make it to my place, but this gives me an opportunity to make sure we weren’t followed.
I take the next exit and pass the gas station, then circle back. No cars follow. We’re good to stop for a few minutes. I park next to a pump and scan her. There’s color in her cheeks, and she’s kicked off one of the blankets. “We’ll only be a few minutes here. Do you need the bathroom?”
Her nose wrinkles when she looks past me to the gas station. “No.”
Probably for the best. I don’t want her walking barefoot in there. “Hold tight. I’ll fill up and we’ll be on our way. It’s not much farther.”
She nods.
Outside, I get the gas pump started, then step away to call Gray. He answers on the second ring.
“You find her?”
“Yeah, and we’ve got a problem.” I explain how I found her, including the thugs and the damn wedding dress, and how she went white when I said I’d take her home.
Silence stretches on the other end.
“The plan’s changed,” I add.
“King...” he growls.
“She’s with me until we know more. I need you to find out what the hell is going on. I’ll get what I can from her on the men who took her.”
He mutters a curse.
My lips twitch. Gray doesn’t swear often, and when he does, it’s usually at me.
“Bring her here. I’ll—”
“No. It’s the first place they’ll look. She’ll come home with me. It’s secure.”
If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let on. “I’ll dig. Phones, finances. Everything. You keep her protected until I tell you otherwise.”
Something eases in my chest. “Done.”
“King,” Gray says, voice roughening just a notch. “You trust your instincts on this?”
I don’t hesitate. “With my life.”
“Call when you have more.” He disconnects the call.
He’s pissed, but he knows the way I work. Maybe that’s why he needed me for this job even when I didn’t want it. My ability to protect assets relies on quick decisions. That makes me effective... and a pain in his ass. But I haven’t lost an asset yet, and Camille won’t be the first.
I finish gassing up, then open my door to get us back on the road. And stop cold.
Camille is on a cell phone whispering, “We’ll be stopping soon.” She swipes a tear off her cheek and jumps when a blast of cold air hits her.
A phone? Where the hell did that come from?
I scan her body, like I could see beneath my bulky jacket and the blanket. But in my mind, I’m seeing her in that form-fitting wedding gown. I didn’t search her because I thought there was nowhere to hide anything. Not when lace and satin hugged every damn curve. How the hell did I miss a phone?
“Hang up,” I bark.
She jolts. “But.”
“Hang up, now. They’ll track you through it.”
Camille sucks in a breath. “I have to go, Elizabeth. I’m safe. Love you.” She hangs up, hands shaking. “I called my sister to let her know I was okay. She won’t tell anyone.”
I motion for her to hand it over. “Doesn’t matter. We have to leave it here.”
“How will I stay in touch with her? She’s the only one I trust.”
Her words sting, because I want her to trust me. Fully and completely. “I’ll get you another.”
She reluctantly hands it to me.
I toss the phone in the nearest trash bin and try not to notice how sad she looks. “You trust her not to talk?” I ask when we’re on the highway. I increase speed, switch lanes, and glance in the mirror. No followers.
“She’s the only one who understands.” Camille sinks further into the blankets and looks away.
Understands what? Why she’s running from her father and her fiancé? I’ll get her home and then get some answers. Because nothing about this case adds up.