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“Lakewood has a hold on everyone who lives here,” I said, and she agreed with a nod. “I lived in Dallas main town for a while, and also moved around a lot, but in the end, I had to come back here because I missed being home.”
“Why did you come to miss it?” she asked. “I mean you could be anywhere else, and Lakewood doesn’t have much for you. Was it work?”
“Work’s part of it,” I answered. “But I could have worked anywhere else. I opened a branch of my private security firm here in Lakewood because I wanted to be close to home. That was the major reason.”
She nodded, and I smiled again. “I guess it’s good that you’re back too,” I continued. “But if you’re here not because you want to be then I don’t think it’ll end well for you.”
Leah didn’t say anything else as she focused on her noodles. We enjoyed our dinner, then strolled towards the house. We had made it past two blocks that night when I noticed the bright flashing light of a truck’s headlamp.
Leah was walking by my side, and the truck’s driver sped up, then swerved toward the side of the road where we walked and came at us full speed.
My immediate response was to shove Leah out of the way. The first rule of training when it comes to protection was to save the principal first. In that split second, the only thought on my mind was to get Leah out of harm’s way.
I heard her sharp cry as she landed on the ground, then I rolled away after her. My head hit the ground when I touched the ground but ignored the pain and rolled over till I covered Leah with my body.
The driver crashed into the tree close to us, then reversed quickly and bounced off onto the road, but I memorized the plate number before he was out of sight.
Texas 654-GHF
“Oh my goodness,” Leah yelled beside me. My ears still rang from the impact, and I tried to catch my breath as Leah helped me sit up. The driver of the truck had sped off, and we were the only ones on the road. Now tears were in Leah’s eyes as she stared at me hard and asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I managed to say, and she helped me to my feet.
I dusted my hands over my jeans and touched her cheeks. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?’
“I’m fine,” she answered and shook her head. Her eyes were wild and wide with fear. She was panting, and sweat had broken out on her forehead.
“You want to tell me why anyone would try to run you over with a truck?” I asked her after I took out my phone, then put my hand around her back and guided her to another corner of the road.
I instantly dialed Peter Coleman’s contact because he was the one I could trust to respond even though he was asleep. He took the call at once, and I said, “I need a truck found … I’ll text you the plate number.”
“Copy that,” he answered before I ended the call.
Chapter Ten
Leah
Thepastiscomingback to haunt me. Who else would want me dead? The truck’s driver last night had determination. He rammed into a tree and still managed to speed off before Tommy or I could regain our balance.
I was shivering even as I returned from my morning run and found Tommy in the backyard training. He was sweaty all over, and he threw punches in the air like there was a physical opponent in front of him.
I had managed to avoid his question last night, but how much longer could I prolong telling him the truth? I knew Tommy was an ex-Navy SEAL, and he ran his own private security firm. He was a firm believer in justice and if he learned that I had run a man over with my car and fled, then he would probably put me in jail too.
A shiver raced through my body again and I shrugged off the thoughts clouding my mind. Tommy noticed my presence before I could turn and walk away. He stopped what he was doing and walked over to me.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked as he peered down at me with concern written all over his expression. “Do you have any pain anywhere from the fall of last night’s incident?”
“No,” I answered and licked my lower lip. “I’m all right. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. He was panting, and he swept a hand over his forehead to get rid of the sweat there.
I wondered if learning to defend myself would make me a less susceptible target to be attacked. Last night, Tommy had been calm and he had protected me with ease.
“My employee found the truck that nearly hit us last night,” he said, and dread filled the pit of my stomach. “I’m handing over that information to the cops, and they will contact me once they have a lead.”
Who could it be? Trevor?
Trevor was the one person I knew that would want me in jail. I ran from Nashville because of him. The court hearing was set, and he blamed the entire incident on me. He was in the car that night too and even if I couldn’t remember the accident, I knew he had been drinking too and we had been arguing about speed.
