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“Whose place is this?”
“A friend of my uncle. His house is a few miles away.” Boone grabbed his flashlight from the glove compartment, then climbed out and headed for the barn door. It needed a lot of force to open it.
He clicked on his flashlight. His uncle’s old Ford truck was parked inside, the red paint coated in a thick layer of dust.
But Boone kept it fueled and roadworthy. Along with a stash of clothes and weapons.
Atlas sniffed around. Gemma looked hesitant and wrapped her arms around herself.
His jaw clenched. She’d been through so much. “You holding up okay?”
She looked up. “No. But I’ll be okay. I refuse to let these people destroy my life. I have no idea what they want, but it’ll be the same as everyone else who’s targeted me in the past. Money and power.”
His brow creased. “This has happened before?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “There were a couple of kidnapping threats when I was younger. One attempt. The worst isn’t the overt bad guys. It’s the people who befriend you, act like they like you, when really, they just wanted access to my father.”
“I’m going to get you safe.” He cupped his hands over her shoulders. “I don’t care about your father.”
“It’s not your job, Boone.”
“It is now.”
Their gazes locked.
“And just for the record,” he said. “I see you. Not your father’s money or influence. You.”
She made a sound. He pulled her close and hugged her hard. She held on tight.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“I’m going to message Vander with an update. Then we go dark.”
Her head jerked. “Go dark?”
“We have no idea how they found you at my place. My guess, they’ve been checking out properties along the river. But it’s best to ditch my phone, just in case, and I’ll pick up a burner.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay. Then?”
“Road trip.”
“To where?”
“Away from here. I have buddies from my Ghost Ops team scattered around the country. They’ll help.”
“So, you know a whole bunch of heroes?”
“Just men who want to do the right thing.” His chest tightened. Mainly because they’d seen the wrong thing too many times. Been forced to do lots of wrong things in the name of the right thing.
He pulled out his phone, messaged Vander, then turned his phone off. He stashed it on the dusty workbench.
“We’ll get on the road, and then you try to get some sleep.”
He opened the tailgate on the Ford and climbed up. He opened a storage box on the back. He had clothes and gear wrapped in plastic. He pulled out a blanket and handed it to her.
She gave him a small smile.
“Atlas, quit exploring.” Boone gave a whistle. “Time to go.”
