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“No. I thought maybe my imagination had run crazy. It was late and I was tired.”
She was telling him the truth, but not the whole truth. “What else has happened?”
“Nothing really, but sometimes it feels like someone is watching me, especially after work when I walk to my car or if I’m shopping somewhere. And then I got the silly bear and candy at work. Derek thinks I called the police and reported it, but I didn’t.”
“Ya should’ve.” He would’ve told his sister to do the same thing.
“What am I supposed to tell them, Rock? Someone sent me a gift and that makes me uncomfortable?” A little aggravation replaced the fear in her voice.
“Considering everything else, hell yeah. There are some sick people out there who’d hurt you without blinking an eye. Or use ya to get to your uncle. Ally, you gotta do something. If ya don’t want to involve the police, get a bodyguard.”
“You have no idea how horrible and creepy it is having a bodyguard follow you around all the time.”
The idea of some guy tailing his girlfriend didn’t thrill him, but he couldn’t do it himself either. “You need someone around, and I can’t be with ya 24/7. Give Elite Force Security a call. They’re the best around here.” Considering what he’d learned about them recently, he couldn’t think of a better organization to keep her safe. But she didn’t and couldn’t know any of that.
“They are one of the best. My family’s hired them before, but I just don’t know.” She stood and paced. “What if it is my imagination? I don’t want some stranger invading my privacy because my brain’s got its wires crossed.” She paused in front of a window and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
She wanted to play it cool, but he’d seen the same look before on many individuals. Deep down, she knew the truth and it scared her shitless. “How ‘bout a compromise?” He didn’t force women. Ever. They possessed their own minds. However, she needed protection, which meant this situation called for a little persuasion. “Get a bodyguard for during the day or whenever we’re not together,” he said, joining her near the windows and replacing her hands with his own. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, the close proximity intoxicated him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her so close he didn’t know where his body ended and hers began. “And stay––”
Glass shattered and intense pain sliced across his upper arm. Without hesitation, he pushed her toward the floor and covered her body with his. Later she might have a few bruises, but better that than the alternative.
“Don’t get up,” he ordered, reaching into his back pocket for his smartphone. “When I tell ya, crawl across to the bedroom.” Located on the other side of the apartment, his bedroom was as far away as she could get from the windows. “Call 911 and stay there.” He pressed the phone into her hand.
“What’s going on? Why do you want me to call the police?” She searched his face for an answer but punched in 911 as he instructed. “Did someone throw a rock through the window?”
She thought a rock sent him for cover. That explained her lack of freaking out. Too bad he needed her to know the truth. “Tell them shots have been fired.”
Every ounce of color left her face, and if she hadn’t already been on the ground, he would’ve feared she’d pass out. “You’re safe. Just do what I said.” He rolled off her and got into a crouched position. “Move. I’ll be back.”
Rather than follow his orders, she sprang to her knees and grabbed his arm, gripping
the gash the bullet left on its way by, and making him grimace.
“No. If someone’s still out there, it’s not safe. Wait and let the police handle it.”
Considering her size, she possessed a decent grip and it took a little effort to remove her hand from his arm. “No time. Just do what I said, Allison.”
“Please stay.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t outright cry.
He repeated ever curse word he knew in both English and Italian in his head and nodded. His gut told him the SOB who’d shot at them was long gone anyway. “Get in the other room.” Rock took back the smartphone and hit the talk button.
When the 911 dispatcher answered, they only managed to get the words “911 where is” out before he interrupted them.
“Shots fired at Glendale Apartments,” he barked out as he moved back toward the window and at the same time kept on eye on Allison. So far, she’d held it together and moved into his bedroom.
The dispatcher asked questions and while Rock answered them, he pressed himself flat against the wall near the broken window and peaked outside. Nothing. Not a soul moved in the parking lot or on the sidewalk. Even the street remained empty. He’d expected that.
Across the apartment, Allison didn’t speak. Instead, she chewed on her thumbnail and watched him from the bedroom doorway. The fear he saw caused more pain in his chest than the gash on his arm.
Keeping clear of the window, he moved back to Allison and wrapped his arms around her. She shivered against him as if she spent the last ten minutes on the beach in December with nothing more than a bikini on, but she never cried or lost her head. Other women he knew would be a hysterical, sobbing mess and clinging to him. Not Ally. She possessed a backbone. She wasn’t going to let fear overtake her.
“Everything’ll be okay,” he said, tilting her chin up and kissing her forehead.
She nodded. “I hear sirens. The police must be here.”
The knocking on the door seconds later validated her statement.
I’m safe. Rock’s safe. She repeated the words, but the shivering continued. Someone had shot at them. A bullet had actually flown right past her. Her stomach rolled and her lunch threatened to leave her. No one got hurt. Just remember that.
