Chapter 9
Lacey
The spring breeze kicks up and whips my hair around my face as I follow Cameron to his SUV, my purse slung over my shoulder and my nerves fraying at the edges.
It’s been two days since we reported the attempted break-in to Detective Reynolds.
I haven’t returned to my apartment other than to pack a bag and go to his Select Protector buddy’s place out in Loganville where whoever is after me can’t track me.
Liam’s like a brother to Cameron. Just like Beckett is too. These elite protectors all seem even closer to each other than I ever was to my sister. Like a real family even though they’re not related by blood.
Luckily for us, Liam’s also between gigs and has plenty of space for us to hunker down.
But Cameron and I aren’t hunkering down together.
At least, not in the same room. Or bed.
Not since I shoved Cameron away after the night we crossed a line I swore I wouldn’t.
He pulled back when I told him I wasn’t sure I could handle being with someone who would be gone for days, maybe weeks, on end.
I don’t blame him. But now everything between us feels like it’s locked behind a barricade.
Professional.
Distant.
And extremely lonely.
But I keep telling myself that it’s for the best. I need to focus on my career and get that promotion I’ve busted my ass to get day in and day out during the last year.
All those extra hours in training classes, more courses online than I can count, and filling in whenever someone needed a break can’t go to waste.
No way will I let Adrian’s murder and how it turned my personal world upside down stop me from moving forward.
I am not going back to that girl who didn’t have a say in where she lived during my dad’s tours of duty.
So, I’ve already put in a day at Barringtons and plan to continue doing unless something else happens to upend my plans.
Though the wind is warm, and the sun is still lighting the blue sky overhead, I suddenly feel cold.
An uneasy feeling crawls across my neck and gives me goose bumps.
I try to shake it off, shooting Cameron a sidelong glance.
“Do you want to stop and get takeout from the Chicken Shack on our way back to Liam’s,” I ask.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he says, continuing to walk to the parking spot where we left the SUV that morning.
“Great,” I say as we reach the car.
But even as I’m trying to sound bright and perky, the rising sense of doom surges. It happens in a flash—a figure darting from behind a concrete pillar, their hand latching onto my purse strap.
“Hey,” I shout, yanking back instinctively, but the attacker’s grip tightens.
Before I can twist away, Cameron’s there, moving with a speed and precision that leaves me breathless. His fist connects with the guy’s shoulder, forcing him to release the strap, and the scuffle ends.
I stumble away, clutching my purse to my chest as the would-be thief scrambles to his feet. “Who the fuck are you with?” Cameron demands, his voice cold and sharp like the edge of a blade as he lunges.
But the bastard is fast, vanishing into the maze of parked cars before Cameron can catch him.
I know my protector won’t chase him and risk exposing me to another attack. Still. I can see his frustration in the way he clenches his fists at his sides.
“Damn it,” he growls.
My heart hammers against my ribs as he returns his attention to me, his expression a mix of anger and concern. “You okay?” he asks.
“I thinks so,” I say, my hands tremble as I adjust my bag’s strap. “That wasn’t random either, was it?”
“Not a chance.”
The weight of his words settles over me like a lead blanket. I feel exposed, hunted. “What did Adrian give me that’s worth killing over?”
Cameron steps closer, his hand hovering over my shoulder but not making contact. Oh, how I wish I could lean into that hand, force the connection. But I’m the reason he’s not touching me. Period.
I need to remember that every time my body thrums with a deep-down primal urge to throw caution to the proverbial wind again. Especially when the reason we’re together is murder.
“We’re not staying here to find out,” he says. “Liam’s place is more secure. Let’s go.”
“Agreed. I’ll contact Detective Reynolds while we’re on the road,” I say, then follow him to the SUV.
The drive back to Loganville is tense, the hum of the engine the only sound between us other than Cameron using the hands-free to touch base with Beckett and Liam to brief them about the attack.
His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw tight as he relays the information, then tells his buddy bring us takeout rather than taking the time to stop for food ourselves.
When we reach Liam’s house, the sense of security I felt when we first arrived there returns. We’re out of danger here. And for that I am grateful.
Cameron leads me inside the spacious farm style house. “Give me your purse,” he says as soon as we’re settled.
Though I know his request is reasonable, the idea of letting go of it is irrationally terrifying. I clutch it tighter. “Why?”
“Lacey,” he says, his voice firm, “we need to figure out what’s in there. Whatever Adrian gave you it’s putting a target on your back.”
I exhale shakily and hand it over. Cameron dumps the contents onto the coffee table—my wallet, keys, a couple of receipts, brush, tube of lipstick, and the usual female emergency products.
And the business card case.
“Oh my god,” I say, pointing to the sleek, silver rectangle. “I completely forgot about his gift to celebrate my upcoming promotion. I just tucked into my pocket and then transferred it to my purse after I got to Starlight.”
“I can understand why you forgot about getting this,” he says. “But it’s probably important.”
Goose bumps pop up along my arms and at the back of my neck.
I wish I had remembered receiving the gift, but Cameron’s right.
“Adrian gave it to me the day he was murdered,” I say.
“You’re right. I was so wrapped up in identifying the people at the store, it didn’t even register. Because it all happened so fast.”
“Well, we know about it now. Let’s see if there’s anything more to it than what it is.” Cameron picks the holder up, flips it over in his hands. His thumb brushes the latch on the side, and with a faint click the holder pops open. “There’s nothing inside,” he says, revealing the empty interior.
“There has to be something. Otherwise, why are those people trying to break into my apartment and steal my purse?” I hold out my hand. “Give it to me. Let me look.”
He passes it over and I close it, read my name’s inscription on the top and a lump fills my throat, making it hard to swallow.
The holder is slim, but still wide enough to hold way more cards than I’ll probably ever need to give to people.
Especially if I don’t get the promotion.
I slide my index finger along the outside edges and discover a small indention with another raised button about the size of a pin.
My heart races and adrenaline prickles along my skin and I press hard. A second lid pops open and reveals a tiny compartment. Nestled within is a USB device.
“What the hell?” I whisper, locking my eyes onto Cameron’s whiskey-brown gaze as I withdraw the device. “Looks like Adrian left behind a clue.”