AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her over to a large black Tahoe. “I’ve got some things to pick up at my office.”
“I don’t even know you,” she protested.
“That’s all right, sugar. I have a feeling we’re going to get to know each other real well before this is over.”
He put his Tahoe in reverse, speeding away from the flashing lights and the dwindling crowd toward the Central Business District. Neither of them noticed Jimmy Grabbaldi watching from his hiding place across the street.
* * *
Commuter traffic was just getting started as they made their way down the rain-slicked streets toward Shane’s office. There was still another hour of dark, and the rain had turned back into a miserable drizzle.
“What is it exactly that you do?” Rachel finally asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. She’d spent the short car trip with her arms folded across her chest and her eyes staring straight ahead, but she was all too aware of the man sitting beside her.
“I work in private security,” he finally answered.
“Is that like a private detective?”
“It’s whatever the client wants. Sometimes it involves bodyguard work, and sometimes it involves tracking down people who don’t want to be found.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“What is this, a job interview?” Shane asked. “I told you I was qualified to help you with whatever your problems are. I can probably even dig up a few references if it makes you feel better.”
The “mind your own business” signal couldn’t have been stronger if he’d been wearing a sign, but Rachel had never been one to give up easily. If she had, she’d already be dead.
“I have a right to know who you are. You’ve shanghaied my life and not given me any choice in the matter. Of course, I can always walk away just as soon as you stop the car. No harm, no foul.”
The threat was made, but Rachel didn’t want to walk away. She was tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of looking over her shoulder every time she went to the grocery store. She needed help. And fate had stepped in and given her a bodyguard for a neighbor.
“You look like a cop. But more,” she said, eyeing him carefully now. She’d gotten plenty of looks at him in the two months she’d lived in New Orleans. She’d have to be dead not to notice the dark-eyed god who lived across the hall. He looked like a fallen angel. His hair was dark and longer than she usually preferred on a man, hanging just past his ears and over his collar. His skin was swarthy, and his eyes were so black that the pupil and iris couldn’t be differentiated. She’d lie awake at night and listen to him run his fingers over the piano in his apartment, playing bluesy numbers, and imagine what those same fingers would feel like touching her.
He let out a soft breath and said, “I was a Marine sniper and did a couple of tours of duty, and then I did more of the same for the FBI Hostage and Rescue Unit.”
Rachel flushed because she’d been staring at him so intently she’d forgotten what question she’d asked. Now was definitely not the time to be having inappropriate thoughts about a man she didn’t even know. She looked at the hard set of his jaw and the white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel and knew it had cost him a lot to tell her that much about himself. She decided not to press the issue for now.
They turned on Tchoupitoulas Street and parked in front of a nondescript, beige, two-story building smashed between more of the same on either side. All the buildings had red awnings that hung over the sidewalk. Discreet gold letters painted on the window said,Quincy Security and Investigations.
“This is a lot bigger than I thought it would be,” Rachel said.
“What, you were expecting some hole in the wall in the slums?”
“No, not exactly.” But she hadn’t thought it would be an operation as large as this. Shane Quincy must be very good at his job.
“I’ve got twelve men and women on staff full time. All of them are retired law enforcement of some kind.”
Rachel let him usher her into a small waiting area where a receptionist’s desk and large fish tank sat among cool shades of gray and blue. She watched as he locked the door behind them and headed up carpeted stairs.
“I’ve got a small apartment up here that I use when I’m working late. It’s got some extra clothes. Unfortunately, I don’t think my shoes are going to fit you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think your clothes are going to fit me either.”
He laughed and the sound sent tingles down her spine. This was a dangerous man. He threw her a pair of dark gray sweats and white athletic socks and pointed her to a small bathroom.
“Go get dressed and then you need to start talking,” he ordered. “I need to know what we’re up against.”
Rachel did as she was told without argument because he’d said the magic word. We. She no longer had to face her fears alone. And maybe by the time it was all over, her father could finally rest in peace.
* * *
