Chapter 14
This must be what it felt like to stand in front of a firing squad.
Britt swallowed past the lump in her throat, clasping her hands behind her back.
After texting the number on the red metal card, Dr. Forrester arrived within thirty minutes to pick her up from near the jitney stop where she was hiding.
She’d never been happier to see a somewhat friendly face, although she still didn’t feel completely comfortable with the doctor.
His no-nonsense, cavalier “take-it-or-leave-it” demeanor made her question whether he truly wanted to help.
But she figured he wouldn’t have picked her up if he didn’t.
He hadn’t asked her any questions when she got in his car, encouraging her to wait until they were with “the others” before talking so she wouldn’t have to tell her story twice.
Now, she was standing in the middle of what she imagined a high-tech government facility would look like, facing off with the group of bodyguards Dr. Forrester had insisted could protect her from whoever was after her.
Three devastatingly handsome men stared back at her.
Two of the men exchanged quizzical gazes, communicating silently between them.
Britt looked away, staring at the floor.
Her body flushed with heat as her nerves went haywire.
“The others” were just as, if not more so, intimidating than the two men hunting her down over the past twenty-four hours.
Dr. Forrester broke the silence. “This is the lady who was chased through Conrad. She needs our help.”
Could she trust these men to help her? Or was she running from one monster into the path of another? She knew nothing about them and couldn’t vet who they were. What had she been thinking?
Britt shook her head and took a step back.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled. “This was a mistake.” She felt like she was going to hyperventilate.
The walls closed in on her. She needed to get away from this place.
From these men. “I have to get out of here. I’m sorry for wasting your time. ” She pivoted toward the door.
“Please … don’t … go,” the haunted pleading in the request halted her.
She turned to look back at the man who’d spoken.
He stepped toward her, arm extending, then falling back to his side.
His presence hit her like a physical force, pulling her like gravity.
The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.
Each breath became shorter, shallower as if the oxygen in the room had suddenly grown thick and heavy.
His warm, amber-brown eyes, flecked with gold locked onto hers.
His lashes were long, curling slightly at the tips.
The room and the other men in it faded away.
She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Her skin tingled under his caring gaze, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
Maybe it was the ginger-brown hair that fell in casual waves across his forehead or the barely noticeable freckles dotting the bridge of his nose, but she almost expected his voice to have a Scottish lilt.
Britt couldn’t fight the blossoming hope swelling within her as he closed the distance between them.
“I can’t imagine how hard it is to come in here with all of us staring at you and ask for help,” he said, his face softening into a masterpiece of boyish charm.
He was too gorgeous for her good. “I’m sure we’re a wee bit intimidating, but we’re not trying to scare you. We want to help. If you’ll let us.”
And there was the slight hint of an accent she’d expected.
Britt opened her mouth to speak, glancing at the men behind him.
“Hey,” he said, directing her gaze back to him. “Would you feel more comfortable just talking to one of us? Maybe you and I could talk in a place that’s a little more …” he looked around the space, and she knew exactly what he meant.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” The man with ice-gray eyes spoke up, stopping beside the amber-eyed man. “We all need to hear her story to help her.”
“And we can do that after Lachlan talks to her alone,” another man said, startling Britt. There was a subtle warning in his tone. She hadn’t seen him before, partially hidden behind monitors, typing on a keyboard.
She turned back to look at the kind man. “You’re Lachlan?” she asked.
He winced, then nodded. “I am.”
The man behind the keyboard spoke up. “The Oasis Room is available. You can take her there.”
Lachlan exchanged a glance with him and nodded, then took another step toward her. “The choice is yours.”
Britt rubbed a hand along the tight muscles in her neck. Lachlan’s presence quieted the pounding of her heart. She believed he wanted to help her. For now, that would be enough. She sucked in a deep breath, then found her voice. “That would be easier, I think.”
He exhaled a sigh that seemed full of relief. “Follow me.”
He walked past her with an athlete’s grace.
His lean, muscled frame was a testament to natural strength rather than hours in the gym.
He was beautiful in a way that dangerous things often are—tempting, thrilling, and absolutely terrifying.
But he couldn’t hide the raw vulnerability hidden inside.
Out of all the men, she believed he was the one she could trust. The only one who seemed to truly want to help her.
Britt followed him down the wide hallway until they reached a door at the end. He opened it and beckoned for her to enter. Plush carpeting muffled her footsteps as she took in the elegant space. The room was a study in understated luxury, worlds away from the stark tech facility outside.
“Please, sit,” he said. She took him up on the offer, sinking into the plush chair, but he remained standing.
Despite his imposing height and obvious strength, he made himself less threatening by maintaining his distance.
This careful consideration, this gentle restraint from a man who could clearly be dangerous, made her pulse quicken.
Every subtle movement he made spoke of contained power that could either protect or destroy.
The fact that he chose to temper that power, to put her comfort first, told her more about his character than any words could have.
“Before we get into what you’ve been through, let me tell you about myself and the team we have here,” Lachlan said, resting a hand over his heart.
“I’m Lachlan Ritchie, a former Palmchat Islands Air and Land Forces pilot.
I spent half my career on basic ops, then transitioned to fly exclusively for our special ops team, the Palmchat Islands Special Command Operators, before leaving the military and joining this security team.
Stingray Security is comprised of men with unique skill sets who believe we can do more good in the world without the constraints and bureaucracy of the government.
We’re not trying to be rogues or exact vigilante justice.
We don’t think we’re above the law, but with our experience, we’ve learned that sometimes people need the kind of help that a smaller, more nimble organization of experienced security professionals can provide.
We came together to help people like you. ”
“Really? Women who can’t remember who the hell they are and why someone wants to kill them.” Britt gripped the back of her neck, rubbing the tight muscles as she processed this new information. “I’m sorry. My situation is surreal. I don’t even think you’ll believe me.”
“How about you start by telling me your name,” Lachlan said.
“Well, that’s tricky,” Britt said, exhaling a long breath. “I truly believe my name is … Britt.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s tricky about that?”
“The man who kidnapped me forced me to listen to details of the life of another woman every second of every day.”
“Like some kind of audio recording?”
“Exactly. It’s like he was trying to brainwash me into becoming … her.”
“Becoming … who?” He asked, his voice low and strained.
“Brittany Freeman.”
The slightest frown crossed his face, then disappeared as quickly.
“But I’m not her,” Britt insisted. “I don’t have many memories, but the ones I do have were never mentioned in the audio recordings.
For some reason, he wanted me to take over her life …
until her father died. I was useless to him after that happened, and that’s when he tried to kill me.
And after I escaped from him, he recruited more henchmen to look for me and kill me. ”
Lachlan eased into a chair across from her. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Tell me everything you remember.”
“About a year ago, I woke up in a tiny room with a knapsack next to the door. There was a date written on the bag. That’s how I know how long I’ve been missing,” she said, surprised at how easily her experience tumbled from her lips.
Time seemed to stand still as she shared every detail about her experiences from that first day in the tiny room to walking into the Stingray Security Compound.
Lachlan never interrupted her, just listened patiently without indicating what he thought of her story. It sounded crazy, but he had to know everything to help her. She was in over her head.
But something deep within her longed to have him believe her.
Taking a deep breath, Britt said, “This feels hopeless. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who’s trying to kill me. I’m not sure this is the kind of case you wanted to take on.”
He moved toward the edge of his seat, leaning forward.
“I will help ye get ye life back, Britt, and stop whoever is after ye. If ye want me to.” His Scottish brogue had deepened with emotion, each word wrapping around her like a protective embrace.
She watched his throat work as he swallowed hard.
Noticed the slight tremor in his hands that betrayed how deeply her story had affected him.
The distance between them seemed to shrink with each passing moment, though neither had moved.
A tear slipped from her eye, and she swiped it away, hoping he hadn't noticed how his words had broken through her carefully constructed walls. “You want to help me?”
“Yes. I don’t want ye to live another day in fear.”
“But I don’t have enough money to pay for this—”
“Ye don’t need to pay me. Just tell me ye need my help.”
“I need you … Lachlan. Please help me.”