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He looked to be in his thirties, dark hair styled professionally in a gentleman’s cut, hard chiseled jaw graced with what looked like three-day stubble. The facial hair held no sign of being unkempt, and I knew it was probably a look groomed to perfection. His cut cheekbones sat high on his face and seemed to draw one's attention to his eyes that I couldn’t place the color of since his gaze was fixed straight ahead as he marched into the room with military-like precision. I let my eyes travel along his tall frame in appreciation. His tailored suit was stitched to perfection across his broad shoulders. The narrowing of his waist gave him a Captain America vibe as he stopped beside the desk, positioned between my father and I, eyes staring straight ahead and hands clasped in front of him as he held the stance of a soldier ready for orders.
Since the orders would be coming from my father, I decided that even if this man looked like a god on earth and had me wanting to clench my thighs together for some relief from his very air of masculine sexiness, I wasn’t going to be blindly accepting Robert’s orders myself. I glared at him until his head moved ever so slightly and his eyes crashed into mine. I wanted to let out a breath of desire at the colors of whiskey and moss swirling in that blank gaze. The color of his eyes, much like the rest of this man, was unique and beautiful in a primal way. Not that I’d let it affect me. No, this Mullins guy was just as much an enemy as the man seated across from me. He had no reaction to the glare I seared him with, a look that could incinerate a man. Unaffected by me, he turned his attention blankly ahead once more, obviously dismissing me.
“I don’t need a soldier to babysit me. Doesn’t he have a country to invade or something? A rogue terrorist cell to bring down?” My attention was fixed back on Robert, giving Mullins the same brush off he’d given me.
“Soldiers are Army. Lieutenant Mullins is former Navy. And please retract your claws, Lake. Most people call them personal security, not babysitters. Though I’m sure he’d have an easier time taking down a terrorist cell than having to suffer one of your girl’s nights.” The tone of Robert’s voice held nothing more than boredom. When a slight huff from the side of me had my head whipping over to look at Lieutenant Mullins, I was sure I’d find him at least fighting a smile at my expense. His face was still blank, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes that had me flushing slightly. I couldn’t really blame him for being amused at my being chastised; I’d invited it after all, with my own snide comments, like I always did when Robert Harrington was concerned. I needled with bitchy, spoiled comments to get a rise out of him, and he never took the bait. The only thing it ever did was remind me time and time again that I’d lost both parents in that car crash 13 years ago.
“Can’t you find someone who doesn’t look like so much of a jarhead?” I’d asked the question to get a rise out of this statue of a man, which it did when his eyes shot down to me, annoyance flashing in his eyes before he quickly schooled it and looked away again. “Kidding,” I said in a sickeningly sweet voice, fist pumping the air in my mind at my little victory. “I know that’s Marines. Calm down G.I. Joe. All I’m saying is I’d like someone less… rigid.”
“Lieutenant Decker Mullins is a decorated former SEAL who served his country and came home to open his own private security company. He took on this job as a personal favor to John Landow.” John Landow was the former governor of Rhode Island and a man that I usually just referred to as “Uncle John”. He’d always been loving and kind to me, treating me as if I was one of his own children. His close relationship with Robert had gifted me with Scout Landow, John’s only child, and the girl who’d been a sister to me growing up. She’d been far more than a best friend, and even though we’d had very different social circles, we’d never strayed from one another. John, unlike Robert, was a caring father and husband and made sure he was home for family dinners and showed up to every single one of Scout’s school events. Not for the political optics, but because he loved his damn daughter. Something that still caused jealousy to coil around my gut even all of these years later.
“You are not simply getting a good guard, Lake, you’re getting the best. So please try to behave like an adult, as hard as that may be for a girl who parties like a sorority girl when she never even made it to college.” Robert rolled his eyes as he re-opened his laptop and began typing as if getting back to work on whatever bullshit former senators did when they were all washed up. “Where you go, Mullins goes. If you so much as sneeze without him knowing about it, you’ll be sent to a safe house.” He looked up and out the window pensively. “I’m thinking somewhere decidedly boring and isolated. Montana? Utah?” It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Either way, say hello to your new shadow until whoever is behind the threats is caught.” He turned his attention back to his work and the conversation was at a close.
I’d gone into the ring with my father and had been knocked out in the first round. This was a burning loss that I could feel in my very soul. I stood, gripping my cell phone tightly in my hand, wondering how hard I’d have to squeeze to break the device. “Wonderful seeing you as always,Dad. Let’s do this again in another few years.”
I worked to control my emotions once again, pushing them down and layering a heap of dirt onto the feelings. Always bury the emotions he could use against me. Be stronger, more detached. Win the silent battle of dislike that always raged between them. He wouldn’t respond to my sarcasm, I knew that, so I turned back toward Mullins. “I hope you’re all packed because we’ve got a plane to catch in two hours and I’m not missing it.” I marched past the hulking mass of muscle in a suit and gave Ellen a wave as I passed, trying to keep the anger, fear and rejection all bottled up until I was completely alone and could release it in privacy. No one was permitted to see me break because of Robert Harrington. No one.
CHAPTER 2
DECKER
Iwas following behind Harrington’s daughter, wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into by taking on this job. John Landow was a friend, and I’d known he was closely tied to Robert Harrington so I’d completely reorganized all current jobs for Remington Security to accommodate his favor. During my first meeting with Robert, the former senator had been charismatic and friendly, a personality that pulled people in and invited them to open up their hearts and wallets to his various causes. It was nothing like the cold, indifferent, and downright passive aggressive man he’d been with Lake, his only child and last living relative. It was a contrast that I didn’t like.
Politicians came with the security game, and I liked to think I was used to them, but it was hard to trust a man who could slide on a pleasant mask for the rest of the world and then slide it off for his own child. Not that Lake Harrington made it easy; acting like a spoiled brat the second she’d gotten within earshot of her father, her acidic tone not muted by the closed doors I’d sat next to. Unfortunately spoiled brats were also part of the security game, and the reason I usually refused to work in the field. I was tired of the rich girls acting out due to their daddy issues or just the need for attention. I’d been well aware of who and what Lake Harrington was before she’d arrived, but had been surprised to be quietly briefed beforehand by Ellen, the small wrinkled woman behind the secretary’s desk.
“Please be kind with Lake, Mr. Mullins,” the older woman had said as she’d placed the newspaper in my hand only an hour before. She looked at the closed door to the former senator's office and frowned. “They have a rather… toxic relationship. She’s always been such a smart girl, able to read situations. When her mother died, she needed someone and Robert failed her. He was going through his own grief and by the time they’d both come out the other side, well…they were strangers, both pushing away the other. She would have become someone more than the party girl you’ve probably read about if she hadn’t picked that narrative to give her father. She just wanted attention and, between us, I think she still does. So she parties and gets into trouble just to get a reaction out of him. Juvenile… but sadly, they both stopped growing after Caroline’s death.” She seemed to remember herself and shook her head, apologizing for speaking out of turn and went back to her desk, leaving me with the understanding that this wasn’t a simple job at all. And fuck, I wasn’t equipped to play therapist to a spoiled rich girl with daddy issues. I wondered yet again if I could pass this particular post off onto one of the other men in my agency. I had enough on my plate, probably needing a headshrinker of my own, and I didn’t need to add any more to it.
But no, I’d given my word that I would be the one to personally handle the protection of the Harrington princess. Not to mention lead a parallel investigation with the police to uncover who’d sent those damn letters. Five letters all detailing what horrific and depraved acts would be forced upon Robert Harrington’s “slut daughter” once they got their hands on her. With her need to be in the spotlight, they wouldn’t have to try very hard. I’d had a plan to stash her in a safe house until this was all over, but Robert had declined, explaining that any deviation in their lives would simply show the monster that they'd won in their personal campaign of terror. The man was a fool, but after experiencing the Medusa-like stare from Lake herself, I wondered if she couldn’t eviscerate anyone who came at her with a look alone.
I’d expected to be slightly irritated by her when I’d entered the room, already battening down all emotion. It wasn’t hard to do since I’d become a professional at keeping any and all emotions tightly locked into their designated boxes. What I hadn’t expected was to be damn near knocked off my feet at the sight of her. Long legs crossed and exposing enough of her creamy thighs to have any man panting, and dark brown hair so thick, a man had to immediately wonder how it would feel fisted in his hand. Heart shaped face, full pouty lips and a slight feminine nose that all were works of art on their own, but on Lake they seemed to be leading to the main show–her eyes. Her dark lashed, forest green eyes were damn near hypnotizing… until she’d narrowed them in blatant judgment.
Once she’d blanketed herself in the armor of vapid haughtiness, I’d seen the woman from the articles that had listed her exploits. Rich, spoiled, and looking for a good time in any club she could find. I’d done my research and had hundreds of pictures of her in a file, but she hadn’t looked anything like them until the moment she’d decided to slide that mask on. After that, she’d looked exactly like the princess of problems I’d seen in article after article. All hints of that knockout wiped away. Sure she was still objectively gorgeous, features symmetrical in a way that was automatically pleasing to the eye, but the air of entitlement she wore clung to the air like a sickening perfume and did absolutely nothing for her. I was having a hard time seeing the bright woman that Ellen Downing had cooed about like a loving grandmother.
I followed the younger Harrington into the elevator as she stabbed the button for the garage floor and watched her with a side eye as she stepped back with a huff and turned her attention toward the phone she’d been clutching in a white-knuckled grip through the meeting with her father. I covertly dropped my gaze to the screen, unable to read any detail on the device but noticed she wasn’t typing out a message or scrolling through social media. Lake seemed to be studying a note document on her phone with determination as if the words typed on the screen could help her find a way out of her current situation. With a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she closed the document and let her hand fall, raising her gaze to the digital numbers that counted their descent to the underground level of the building.
The bell in the elevator dinged as we hit the garage floor, and I knew before Lake did that she would attempt to storm out first, just to have the upper hand. I knew it, and I still tensed in irritation as she took a step toward the opening doors. I threw my hand out to stop her and ignored her death glare as I stepped out first, hand near enough to my side arm as I took in every detail of the immediate area. The only person on this level seemed to be Evan Turner, one of my men, and I waved a hand to gesture my newest charge out of the elevator and into the waiting SUV, parked directly in front of the doors.
I could feel her eye roll as she stomped past me and, with all the grace of a practiced socialite, slid into the backseat. I could feel irritation rattling its locked cage as I let the door slam a little too hard behind her. The act had me earning a quizzical look from Turner as I took my place in the passenger’s seat and gave him the nod of approval to get us out of here.
Evan Turner wasn’t one of the original men I’d started Remington Security with, only being with us for the past year, but there was no one I trusted more as a driver. His tactical driving put all four of us partners to shame and I wasn’t too proud to admit it. This business had grown quickly due to each of us owners using our strengths. Mine happened to be management in all its meaning. I moved people and situations around in a tactical way that was best for all. It was my ability to detach from emotion and see all the pieces on the board.
It was that ability to detach that I used more than ever the moment Turner pulled out from the underground garage and into the bright light of day and the traffic that never failed to set me on edge. Even years later, and while I’d controlled the heart gripping panic that hit when I’d been boxed in by cars on all sides, I still had to focus to keep my head level as emotions I’d never really dealt with attempted to jump their chains and run me down. I wasn’t an idiot and knew it was PTSD that had me triggered by congested traffic, but I’d never get an official diagnosis, and I wouldn’t be seeing any therapist about it. No matter how many times the guys subtly dropped hints about it.
So I’d shored up those boxes, constructed them of steel and concrete, to hold the heart pounding fear that dug at my insides whenever I ended up in rush hour traffic. Even if I’d managed to tame the feeling of suffocation that used to threaten my lungs, I still felt uneasiness track up my spine like a finger of dread, dragging its nail along each vertebrae in silent warning.
“Airport?” Turner asked, pulling me from the whirlpool of emotion threatening to consume me.
I watched him for a moment, wondering why he was asking when he knew damn well their schedule since Kasey had pulled up Lake Harrington's flight confirmation back to New York that evening. I’d been surprised at the information even though the file compiled on the 26-year-old party girl noted how little time she actually spent in the nation’s capital. Still, I’d been planning on having to secure some hotel bar for dinner and drinks between Lake and her father. At least I had until I’d been subjected to their frigid back and forth bickering. After watching their interaction, I was fairly sure they didn’t occupy the same space unless absolutely necessary. I gave a head tilt of a nod and kept my eyes trained on the road, earning a rather unlady-like snort from the backseat. I had planned to ignore it, but Lake spoke up then. Not to me, but to Turner.
“So one of you speaks.” Her hand shot through the seats between Turner and I, and I watched as Turner’s gaze flicked down to the outstretched hand. Strike one for our driver as he shouldn’t have been distracted by her hand at all. “I’m Lake Harrington, resident baby to be sat.”
Turner cast a glance my way and the look I shot back told him in no uncertain terms that if his hand left the steering wheel to shake her hand, he’d be out of a job before we hit the airport. So he simply trained his eyes back on the road and cleared his throat. “Evan Turner, Ma’am.” I shot him an ice filled look and watched him visibly flinch, feeling the chill without even having to see it. “Hey, I wasn’t told I had to be a dick when I took this job,” he mumbled.
“I’m sure it was implied, Evan. But good to know you don’t follow the same letter of the law as the rest of your team.” Her hand withdrew and I watched as Turner hid a smile at her words. How was he so easily charmed by this annoying woman? I tamped down the feelings of irritation that seemed to be seeping from their locked boxes inside me. I was calm. I was calculated in every aspect of life. I couldn’t be rattled by a mouthy woman eight years my junior.
Turning my body in my seat to face Lake, I refused to hide the rebuke in my tone. “Any man on my team is trained to look for danger from any angle. Including keeping both hands on the wheel in case he needs to do some evasive driving. Spending time chatting can cause them to get distracted and lose focus. It’s nothing personal, Miss Harrington.” The last sentence was delivered to end any and all conversation in the SUV.
“Aye Aye, Captain,” Lake said with a mock salute before she turned her gaze out the window, dismissing me in much the same way her father had done with her.
