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Not that I doubted Bex’s or Alex’s skills. Alex had the best hacking skills I’d ever seen, and he had helped Bex hone her technique since she started working with us this past summer. I was sure she’d be equally terrifying in a short time, the two of them a force that no one wanted to go up against.
As long as we had the muscle to back it up. Right now, the muscle primarily fell on me, and it wasn’t enough. Alex, Bex,and I could protect ourselves, of course, thanks to my constant training reminders and the sparring Bex and I did as often as we could. Alex trained, too, but didn’t like close-quarters combat as much as Bex did, preferring to serve as the face of our company while keeping his dirty work behind a keyboard.
But their girls - Ames and Wren - were their weaknesses. Mine too, considering how the two had quickly become two of my best friends since they joined our group less than a year ago.
Each woman had already been in danger once before. Ames had been kidnapped by a crazy ex-boyfriend and had to wait for hours until we could stage a rescue. Then some wannabe up-and-comer in the business had tried to build his reputation by threatening Wren, culminating in an armed standoff between him and Bex in Wren’s flower shop.
Both women had found ways to protect themselves, to stay strong when danger came for them, but they weren’t trained for combat. Security was our job, and we didn’t want them to worry when they went out alone. I had trained both Wren and Ames in some self-defense, even giving shooting lessons to Wren at her urging, but they weren’t professionals. They had both gotten lucky.
Wehad gotten lucky, all of us coming out unscathed from both situations, but we knew that our luck couldn’t last forever. If a larger group or someone more skilled came after us, we might not be able to hold them off. We had already been spread thin once, when I was working this job and someone came after Wren, forcing Bex to take on bodyguard duties despite no experience in the area.
We didn’t want to be in a situation where we’d have to see how we held up against a larger threat. How easily someone could break us down by going after the people we cared about.
Which was how I had found myself stalking the woman in front of me, waiting for someone to come for her. Unfortunatelyfor him, Mr. Bald-and-Not-So-Handsome wasn’t expecting me, my footsteps silent despite my full-out sprint in his direction. He would regret making the mistake of touching the woman backing away from him.
I had a sudden, uncharacteristic surge of panic as I realized I was still too far away, standing at the other end of the alley. I cursed myself for being too cautious, too worried she’d catch me following behind her, and put on a burst of speed as the man lunged for her, heart in my throat when I realized I’d be too late to stop the blow.
Neither of us had been expectingher.She stopped his fist with an impressive block of her forearm, her wince showing the force behind his blow. Her attacker staggered back half a step, mostly in surprise. She held her ground as best she could, getting in a few shots - a punch to the nose, an elbow to the solar plexus - all in just a few seconds.
I couldn’t help but admire the fight she put up, the force she put behind her self-defense. She was a fighter, eager not only to defend herself but to hurt the man coming after her, and she held her own against him for longer than I would’ve expected. But the man she was up against wasn’t a robber in an alleyway; he was a professional, with a foot of height and a hundred pounds on her, and he quickly gained the upper hand.
His arm wrapped around her throat, and my stomach clenched at the desperate noises escaping her throat, the sudden sob as she realized it was too late. It felt like a lead weight dragging me down, my body numb save for the bile rising in my throat as I watched him raise his other hand, preparing to snap her neck.
The feeling didn’t stop until I firmly wedged a bullet in his skull and his hands were no longer on my redheaded target.
Chapter 2
Rory
This was goingto throw my whole day off, more so than it already had been. I had plans for my Saturday, even if they were the same plans I had every Saturday. I’d already visited the farmer’s market to stock up on groceries for the week. On my way home, I had planned out exactly what book I’d spend the morning reading, after debating between the ones I had downloaded on my Kindle and the paperbacks scattered around my apartment.
After spending the morning reading, I usually made lunch for myself, John, and Sean.Except Sean wasn’t around anymore. The thought had my steps picking up before I consciously planned to do it, reminding me of what happened to Sean. Why a new bodyguard - Cian - stood in his place a few yards behind me, carrying my groceries.
The edges of panic had crept in slowly, like they usually did, starting with a stomach cramp that I tried to ease with deep breaths. But rather than abating, the tightness had traveled to my chest, forcing shallow exhales to punch out of my throat in rasping breaths. The panic attacks happened occasionally, the weight of my situation - the danger, the isolation - bearing down so suddenly I could hardly breathe. Taking off running was theonly way to ease the panic, allowing me some space from the reminders (namely, my bodyguards) and allowing me to catch my breath.
Usually, it got me some much-needed breathing room, along with a half-hearted lecture from John. Today, it had gotten me a few scrapes and a nasty set of bruises.
It would’ve gotten me something much worse if the man lying still on the ground in front of me hadn’t failed in whatever his plans were.
I frowned at the dead body lying between me and the stranger standing across from me, blood slowly inching its way toward my toes. I took a step to the side to avoid staining my boots, putting me closer to the still-living man next to me. He took my nearness as an invitation, turning toward me before speaking.
“I’m Dev,” he grinned easily, as if there weren’t a body laying between us, one he’d put there moments before. He attempted to extend his hand for a shake, only to realize he still held his gun in his fist. He frowned at it a moment before lowering it back to his side, his smile returning as he chose to instead give me a soft wave with his left hand.
“Rory,” I muttered in response.
My frown deepened as he chirped, “I know,” a grin still firmly on his face.
The guy was a fucking golden retriever, smiling at me without pause. Was he deranged? Had I avoided one psycho only to get involved with another? How the hell did he know my name? And why the hell wasn’t I running?
Smiling wider at the surprise written across my face, he answered my unspoken question, saying, “I work with your dad.” He shrugged as he added, “And we’re pretty good at our jobs.”
I opened my mouth to ask the dozen questions that were piling up in my brain, but Dev smoothly interrupted, a slight wince on his face as he cut me off.
“Sorry to cut you off, Red, but we need to get out of here before the police show up. Or his backup,” Dev reached out a hand, gesturing in encouragement for me to take it as he told me, “My truck is around the corner.”
“My bodyguards -” I started, but Dev cut me off, shaking his head.
“This guy knew what street you lived on.” Dev said, concern coloring his voice. “I like John, but I haven’t looked into the new guy enough. I don’t trust anyone to keep you safe but me.”
