by Jen Talty
“Why do you care about a Lyft driver?” Hank asked with a slight chuckle.
“I think Sage Adams was just kidnapped.”
“You think?” Hank asked. “Because if I’m bailing you out of jail for any reason, you better be certain.”
“Run this Nevada plate: GHJ 1125. I’m currently following the vehicle, and it’s not going in the direction that Sage had planned on.”
“Then why did she get into the car?”
Clayton pulled out into the left lane and passed two cars before making a sharp right. The vehicle he followed increased speed.
“She thought it was her Lyft. She did all the right things, but it wasn’t her ride. They are headed out of Vegas and into a sketchy neighborhood. I’m going to cut them off at the pass. I’ve got some friends at the Las Vegas—”
“Do what you have to.”
“I’m going to go. I’ll call you when I have Sage safe and sound.” Clayton knew Vegas and the surrounding areas like the back of his hand. At any given moment, he could close his eyes and visualize the entire city. He also knew that this particular neighborhood was under some major renovations, all trying to make it a safe place again.
He took a right and then two streets down he took a quick left, in hopes of cutting off the other car. When he pulled out onto the road, he had to slam on the brakes, so he didn’t run Sage and her friend over as they leaped from the car.
Clayton jerked to a stop only a foot away from where Sage lay on the ground.
“Shit,” he muttered as he raced toward Sage, her assailant taking off like a bat out of hell into the dark streets.
Sage raised on her hands and knees and started crawling toward her friend, who lay on the ground, blood pooling around her arm.
“Don’t move.” Clayton rested a firm hand on Sage’s shoulder.
“He shot Weslynn.” Tears rolled down Sage’s face.
“Have you been shot? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head as she tried to stumble to her feet. “We have to help her.”
“You stay here.” He held out his cell phone. “Call, 9-1-1.” He surveyed the area, making sure whoever had tried to harm Sage and her friend was indeed gone.
His pulse increased as he reached down and touched the side of Weslynn’s neck. She had a weak pulse, and her skin had paled. He tugged off his sport coat before ripping up his shirt and using it to apply pressure to the wound. He soon realized that the bullet had gone right through her shoulder. He adjusted the fabric, covering both open wounds.
Weslynn opened her mouth, but all that came out was a gurgling noise.
The sound of sirens cut through the dense air.
“Is she okay?” Sage asked as she plopped herself on the pavement next to him. “Oh, Weslynn,” Sage whispered.
Weslynn moved her mouth again.
“Don’t try to talk,” Clayton said. When he’d been in the military, Hank and Boomer used to tease him that he had very little emotion and that his inability to feel anything on a gut level might be useful in the field, but it wasn’t going to help him outside of combat.
Especially when it came to women and relationships.
Well, he didn’t do relationships, and he hadn’t had a regular woman in his life in years. He was good with that, so why the hell did he need to feel anything? He glanced at Sage, who knelt by his side, holding her friend’s hand. His heart beat a little faster. His breath hitched in this throat. Something about this woman turned his calm resolve into hyped adrenaline, and that was a feeling he did not welcome.
“Hang tight,” Sage said, leaning over her friend. “Help is on the way.”
“Did you know the driver?” Clayton asked.
“No. I don’t think so.” Sage shook her head. “How could I have been so stupid? I should have known he wasn’t our driver.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You followed all safety—”
“No, I didn’t. That car didn’t have the Lyft logo, but I didn’t notice that until it was too late. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to her.”
He kept the pressure on Weslynn’s wound as he glanced up and caught Sage’s gaze. “I’ve seen a lot of shit in the military, and your friend is going to be just fine.”
“You can’t be certain.” Sage’s voice shook.
The sounds of her shattered resolve squeezed at his heart. “It’s a clean gunshot wound that went straight through.”
“What do you know? You’re not a doctor.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve seen my share of bullet wounds, including having been shot five times myself,” he said.
A paramedic truck rolled to a stop. Behind it was a fire engine, a cop car, and an unmarked vehicle.
“What happened?” a paramedic asked.
“Twenty-five-year-old female. A bullet wound to the shoulder. Decent pulse, but the right eye is dilated. Possible concussion.”
“We’ll take over from here,” the paramedic said.
“Come on.” Clayton tugged at Sage’s arm when the paramedics took over Weslynn’s care.
“I’m not leaving her side.” Sage glared at him with wide eyes.
“Please, ma’am. We need you to back up and get checked out,” one of the paramedics said.
Clayton bent over and lifted Sage into his arms. She had a petite frame, at maybe five foot four, but her body was solid muscle.
“Put me down.” She smashed her fist on his shoulder.
“Gladly, once we are out of the way.” He nodded to one of the firefighters who waved him over. Gently, Clayton set her down on the back of the ambulance. Taking a step back, he let the EMT do his job.
“I’m fine,” Sage said with a defiant quiver of her lower lip. “Everyone should be working on my friend.”
“She’s in good hands,” the EMT said.
“Unbelievable. I get to see you twice in the same week?” a familiar male voice called. “How is it you always manage to find yourself in the middle of something?”
Clayton spun on his heels and smiled. There stood Detective Ryan Frost. As a beat cop, he was one of the first police officers to embrace Law Enforcement Assisted Diversion programs. One of his first clients had been Clayton and his mom.
Frost had also led up the investigation into who killed Clayton’s mom, and while the case was still technically unsolved, the culprit was indeed behind bars.
“I can’t seem to help myself,” Clayton said with an outstretched hand. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I was in the area working another case when someone called about two women jumping from a car after hearing a single gunshot. Care to tell me how you’re involved in all this?” Frost had to be pushing sixty, so it was a bit of a shocker that he was still on the job. But he mentioned that he’d rather die on the job than die a slow, boring death.
Clayton could relate to that concept.
“I was heading to the Firehouse to meet Sage and her friend when I realized they hadn’t gotten into a Lyft, so I followed them. I took a side street to cut them off, but they had already been tossed from the car.”
“For the record, we jumped. And the driver is wounded.” Sage leaped from the back of the ambulance and lunged forward, stumbling over her own two feet.
Clayton raced to her side, catching her right before she managed to fall flat on her face. He held her to his chest and brushed her hair from her face. “We need to stop meeting like this.”
“Not the time or place for stupid jokes,” she mumbled. “I want to ride with my friend to the hospital.”
“We need to ask you some questions,” Frost said.
“Can’t you do that at the hospital?” Sage asked.
“We could,” Frost said. “But I’d rather do it now.”
Clayton kept his arm around her waist to give her support on her wobbly legs. Her body shook, which was to be expected, considering what just happened. “I’ll take you to the hospital, no problem.” Clayton’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the scree
n. “I’ve got to take this.” He tapped the green button. “What’s up, Maddog?”
“Hank got the owner’s name of the car.”
“And?”
“You’re not going to like it,” Maddog said.
“Just give me the name.”
“Glenn Nolan.”
“Fuck,” Clayton mumbled. Nolan had spent some time in prison and was known as a freelance thug. No job too big or too small if the price was right and Nolan had done some work for Maxwell over the years. However, Nolan had a nasty habit of turning evidence over to the cops so he could cut a deal for a lesser charge. “Thanks for the intel.” He stuffed his phone in his back pocket. “The owner of the car was Glenn Nolan.”
“Jesus. We just picked him up last week, but since he gave up the supplier, we let him go. He’s an elusive son of a bitch,” Frost said. “And if his intel weren’t always spot on, I’d toss the book at him.”
“Playing both sides is going to get him killed.”
“What’s going on?” Sage asked. Her hand pressed against his chest as she glanced up at him with her sea-green eyes. “Who is this guy, and what does he want with me?”
“Do you know Maxwell Busgy?” Clayton wondered if this man would ever stop haunting him.
“Everyone knows who he is, but I don’t know him personally. And what does he have to do with the man who tried to kidnap me?” Sage asked.
“I have no idea, but I intend to find out.” Clayton took Sage by the hand and tugged her toward his pickup.
“Where are you taking me?” Sage yanked her arm free.
“To the hospital. And on the way, you’re going to tell me why the hell someone wants to kidnap you, Weslynn, or both of you.”
Chapter 3
Sage tapped her foot while she waited for her father to pick up his damn phone.
“What do you need, Sage?” her father asked with his usually clipped tone that made her want to climb under a rock and never come out.
“Where are you?” It had been two hours since she’d spoken to her father. He should have been at the hospital an hour ago.
“At home. In bed. Trying to get some sleep, as you should be.”
She sucked in the gasp that bounced from her gut to her throat like a game of ping pong. “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you’d want to talk with Clayton or something.” Or maybe hug your daughter, but that might be too much to ask.
“I’ve spoken to his boss. We’ve hired him to protect you, but he should already know that. And don’t give him any money; I’ve already taken care of his fee.”
Of course, her father had. “I was hoping to see—”
“I’ve got a busy morning and so does your mother. I’ll talk to you later.”
The phone went dead.
Sage dropped her cell into her purse and let out a shaky breath. Her father would never change, and that was something she needed to come to terms with.
“Are you ready?” Clayton asked as he turned the corner, holding two cans of soda.
“I don’t want to leave her.” Sage paced in the hallway outside of Weslynn’s recovery room. She had to have surgery on her shoulder, and she’d suffered a mild concussion, but the doctors assured Sage that Weslynn would fully recover.
“You heard the doctor. She’s going to be sleeping for a while. It’s almost three in the morning, and you need to take care of yourself as well.” Clayton rested both of his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently. “Frost made sure to have a beat cop here at all times, and my buddy Maddog is on his way. He’s one of the best in the business.”
“My father and his money to the rescue.” Her body defied her mind and relaxed into Clayton’s tender touch.
“Your father might have paid for our services, but I’m the one who came to your rescue, and if you need it again, I’ll be the one taking care of you, and I don’t need a penny from anyone to do that.”
She glanced over her shoulder and wrinkled her forehead. “No offense, but you sound like a Neanderthal.”
“I suppose I do.” He laughed. “We can come back tomorrow after you’ve gotten a few hours of sleep and a decent meal.”
His fingers kneaded her tense muscles. She wasn’t used to touchy-feely kind of people. Her parents weren’t huggers. Hell, they barely shook hands with people. As a kid, she was starved for physical attention. As an adult, she’d learned to live without it. But that didn’t mean she didn’t still crave it.
And it was Clayton’s attention she desired.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she mumbled. What she wanted more than anything was for her parents to be actively engaged in her life, but instead, her dad did what he always did.
He hired someone to deal with his daughter.
“Well, good, because that’s not what I am or what I do.”
“I didn’t mean it like it sounded.” She stared at her aching feet. “Why can’t we stay here?” She lifted her gaze and held her breath as she stared into the caring blue eyes of a man she barely knew, but who had affected her like no other. Her entire life she’d been emotionally on her own. Not once had anyone ever really been there for her, except for Weslynn. She’d become more than an assistant, and Sage wanted to make sure that Weslynn knew without a doubt that Sage would be there.
“Because we’re both exhausted. We need a few hours of sleep and a decent meal. Then we need to talk through who could possibly want to kidnap you, or kill you, and why.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. For the last two hours, she’d been racking her brain, trying to make heads or tails of what happened, but she came up empty-handed. She had very few real friends, but she had many acquaintances, both personal and professional, and to her knowledge, she got along with every single one of them. While she was known for getting things done and speaking her mind, she always believed she had done so respectfully and without too much conflict. Her work was all about helping people, and everyone she’d worked with so far had been grateful, and many were coming back to her to plan their next big fundraiser.
Her father, on the other hand…
She snapped her gaze back to Clayton. “What if they weren’t after me?”
“Who then?”
“You must know what my father does for a living.”
Clayton nodded. “I’m sure your father has many enemies, and that’s something to consider, but right now, it’s you I’m charged to protect, so I want to focus on that.”
“I’d look into what business he’s taken over in the last year and look at the men and women he’s ruined in the process.”
“My boss is looking into that, but again, you are my only focus right now.”
If she hadn’t seen her best friend get shot, she might think this whole bodyguard thing was over the top. “Have you spoken directly to my father?”
Clayton shook his head.
“He never called you?” She knew the answer, but she needed to hear Clayton’s response.
“No. He called my boss, Hank. Why?”
“You would think my father would be more concerned with his only daughter,” she said with a slight laugh. “I’m tired of my father substituting money for being an actual parent.” Salty tears stung the corners of her eyes. She clenched her fists, desperately trying to push down the anger and sadness that burned her throat. “My entire life has been one one-hundred-dollar bill after the other. He couldn’t be bothered to come to my high school graduation, so he bought me a car. For my college graduation, he bought me a condo to live in—in France, no less. But could he show his support by being there? God, no.” As the words tumbled fast and furious from her lips, she watched as Clayton opened and closed his mouth at least five times. She knew she should shut the hell up, but this had been bottled up inside her gut for so long, it was as if a tidal wave had taken over. “His idea of being a good parent is to make sure someone else is taking care of me, so all he’s ever done is write a check. It’s how he handles everything because to him; money is love.”
Clayton reached out and tipped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. His gaze tore straight to her heart.
She gasped.
“I’m truly sorry your family isn’t here for you right now, but I have a job to do, and honestly if your father hadn’t hired the company I work for, I would have done it for free.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked, swiping at her face.
“Because I wouldn’t be able to walk away knowing someone might try to hurt you again,” Clayton said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her toward the elevators. “Now, let’s go back to your place. We can stay there tonight, but I think we’ll need to move to a hotel or something tomorrow. Glenn Nolan is bad news, and he used to work for the man who I believe killed my mother.”
“What?” She stopped dead in her tracks and shoved her finger in her ear. She couldn’t have heard that correctly. She knew his mother had been killed and that her murder went unsolved. There were a dozen different stories that milled about the water coolers in this town about how she died and who killed her.
One of which had been Maxwell Busgy.
“So, this could be about you?” She took a step back, giving herself some distance.
“I wasn’t the one who was kidnapped, so I don’t think so.”
“But you have enemies, and one of them is Maxwell Busgy, so he could be trying to get to you. I mean, tonight was about honoring your mother and her work with the Alley Home.”
“But I hadn’t announced my attendance until the day before the event.” The elevator doors swung open, and six people hurried past them. She adjusted her strapless dress in a nervous attempt to calm herself down. Her mind went to a million different places. Her heart hammered in her chest. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. “Let’s not forget the fake Lyft driver said your name.”
“But still, maybe—”
“I have enemies, and yes, one of them is Maxwell, but he’s behind bars, and I helped put him there.” Clayton reached out and curled his long, thick fingers around her biceps. “If Maxwell sent someone for me, and I didn’t see him coming, I’d be dead. I know that. But I wasn’t the one who was almost kidnapped. You and Weslynn were. I know you’re scared and confused. But trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you, and my buddy, Maddog, won’t let anything happen to your friend. I promise you that we will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety.”
