Without Warning

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Without Warning Page 12

by Reese Knightley


  And so it begins, he sighed.

  No matter how many times he tried to engage Ryder, the man continued to shut him down.

  “We are leaving in ten minutes,” he snapped at the empty hallway before turning to pour creamer into his cup. It was like dealing with a jackal. “Correction, make that Jekyll and Hyde,” he grumbled.

  “I can hear you,” Ryder said, coming back into the room.

  Harrison gnashed his teeth. Damn it. He glanced at his watch.

  “The car’s probably here,” he muttered.

  Since the accident, Ryder had insisted they have a car service pick them up each morning and drop them back at home each night. Harrison had agreed, there was less of a chance of anyone tampering with their vehicle again.

  Ryder shrugged powerful shoulders and arms into a perfectly tailored baby blue suit jacket that fit perfectly over the gun and holster.

  He had to admit that on the one hand, Ryder did fit in better at the office, but on the other hand, every woman and gay man in the building now stopped to gawk at the very gorgeous bodyguard.

  Ryder caught him staring and gave that damned sexy smirk.

  He glared and rolled his eyes before snatching up his overcoat and turning away. Reaching the door, he waited for Ryder to open it and go through first. Same with the elevator and lobby.

  Harrison shook out his overcoat and Ryder’s large hands came up to help him with it, and he could have sworn the man’s fingers lingered.

  See? It was things like that that sent his mind into overdrive, but then Ryder turned away and strode toward the front doors as if the touch had meant nothing. Harrison didn’t pull on his hat because he suddenly didn’t want his hair messed up. Crap. You’ve got it bad, he told himself.

  “Have a good day, sirs,” Thomas said as they approached.

  “You too,” Ryder responded.

  “Bye, Thomas, thank you,” he said when Thomas opened the lobby door for them.

  Stepping out into the crisp air after Ryder, he drew in a deep breath before stepping toward the waiting car.

  The bricks on the apartment building suddenly exploded and showered the air. He glanced over, more startled than concerned, until he was jumped on.

  Slammed into the side of the building, he was covered by Ryder’s massive frame. He grunted beneath the impact and so did Ryder. Then he was yanked down into a crouch.

  “Mr. Trudel! Mr. Freeman!” Thomas shouted.

  “Get inside, Thomas,” Ryder yelled. “Now, and call 911!”

  The doorman stumbled back through the doors and into the apartment building.

  The only thing shielding them was the waiting car. The driver looked shocked and slammed on the gas. The tires spun and the car lurched forward. Gunfire erupted and more bullets hit the brick.

  “Stay with me,” Ryder rasped and grabbed his hand. The bodyguard took off running back into the lobby, past a surprised Thomas and down the short hallway that led to the parking structure. They kept running until they were well inside the garage.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” he choked out.

  “It’s okay, let’s keep moving.” Ryder kept him close, and they took the elevator in the middle of the structure to the top.

  Harrison’s fingers shook getting the keys out to his BMW, but he managed before Ryder took them and opened the passenger side and ushered him inside.

  Harrison tossed his briefcase and laptop into the back seat and with shaking hands, it took three tries to get his damned seatbelt buckled.

  Ryder slid in behind the wheel and sat for a moment, hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. Harrison’s gaze clung to the man’s face. He gripped his hands together to stop their shaking.

  “Ryder?” he whispered.

  “Yeah. Hang on,” Ryder said after a moment and adjusted everything on the driver’s side before starting the vehicle.

  Harrison clamped a hand around the handle over the door and braced the other on the center armrest between them. Grateful for the BMW’s tinted windows, he hung on, swallowing down his fear as Ryder eased the car down the parking structure. When they reached the exit, the reinforced steel gate door rolled upward. Ryder pulled forward and looked both ways before he punched it out of the garage.

  The car lurched away from the apartment building and Ryder made a left. Tires peeled and skidded on the pavement and the BMW fishtailed a moment before blasting forward like a rocket.

  Ryder sped the car down the street, glancing in the rearview every few moments. Harrison found himself frequently glancing over his shoulder. Instead of sticking to the streets, Ryder took the freeway on ramp and got into the fast lane.

  “Can you reach in my pants pocket and pull out my phone?”

  “Yeah.” He reached over and lifted the baby blue suit jacket and gasped. The side of Ryder’s white shirt was wet with blood.

  “Shit, you’re bleeding! Fuck, fuck!” His voice rose with panic.

  “Harrison, calm down and get my phone for me, okay?” Ryder’s voice was calm.

  Harrison froze for a split second and then took a deep breath to calm the hell down and search for the phone. Finding it, he pulled it out.

  “Now what?”

  “Call Logan for me.” Ryder reached over and took his hand and held the phone up to his face to unlock it. Harrison punched at Logan’s number in the contacts list.

  “Ryder?”

  “No, it’s Harrison.”

  “Harrison, what’s the matter?”

  “Ryder’s been—.”

  Ryder yanked the phone out of his grip and put it to his ear. “Ryder is right here. I need to move Harrison to a secure location,” Ryder growled into the phone.

  Harrison’s eyes clung to Ryder. Not only was his side wet with blood, but it was also seeping into the seat beneath him, and Ryder’s hand had blood on it.

  How the hell did I not notice that?

  “He’s been shot!” he yelled, just in case Ryder wasn’t going to tell Logan.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “No, he’s not! He’s bleeding all over the car!” he yelled again, squeezing his hands into fists.

  Ryder tossed him an impatient look, but Harrison didn’t give a shit. “If you pass out and we crash, we’re screwed!” Not that he cared about the freaking car, when Ryder was bleeding all over the place. What if he bleeds to death? It was Mitchell all over again. Sweat dampened his hands and the coffee he’d consumed threatened to make a reappearance.

  “Call Felix and Brick,” Ryder said into the phone and took the next exit. “Yes, I’ll send you my coordinates.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but you’re freaking me out,” he said quickly when Ryder hung up the phone.

  Ryder pulled over to the side of the road and parked. He punched in something on his phone and then leaned forward and set his forehead to the steering wheel.

  “Ryder, let me drive. I can get you to a hospital. There’s one really close by,” he whispered.

  “Just hang tight.”

  Another five minutes went by and Ryder lifted his head and glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “Come on, bring your laptop and jacket.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the dark SUV pulling up behind them. He grabbed his stuff and got out of the car.

  Two large men exited the SUV, one was a massive giant and one was about Ryder’s height.

  The shorter man opened the passenger door and stayed there holding it open. The bigger man approached them.

  “We didn’t get him,” the big guy said.

  Ryder nodded, lips pressed in a flat line. “Listen to me,” Ryder said. Harrison heard the ragged edge to the man’s voice.

  “Felix is going to take you some place safe.”

  “No!” He couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Yes. Listen to me. Felix can keep you safe.”

  “Where are you going? I want to stay with you. Please, Ryder, please.”

  “You have to do
this for me.”

  He clung to Ryder’s hand, not giving a shit how it might have looked to the other two and Ryder didn’t pull away.

  “You have to go with Felix,” Ryder said and squeezed his hand.

  “No.” He shook his head emphatically.

  “Harrison, come on,” the man near the SUV called out. “Ryder needs to get help and you need to get some place safe.”

  “Shit!” he shouted, dropping the hand he held.

  “Brick will take care of me,” Ryder said and reached out. Fingers brushed over his cheek for a brief second and then Ryder stepped back.

  A sob caught at the back of his throat. “You fucking better call me.” He didn’t have the right to make that demand, but he made it anyway.

  “I will.” Ryder had said the words like a promise and then held his gaze for another long moment before turning away.

  Brick guided Ryder carefully to the BMW and then tore away from the curb like a bat out of hell.

  A sob tore from his throat and tears slipped down his cheeks.

  “It’s okay. Come on, let’s get you off the street and some place safe,” the one named Felix said.

  Harrison found himself tucked into the passenger side of a dark, black SUV, but he saw nothing.

  The world was suddenly a very desolate and bleak place without Ryder in it.

  The inside of the safe house was dark and he waited on the steps for Felix to flip on the lights. Stepping inside, he pulled his jacket tightly around him, clutching his briefcase like a shield.

  “Have you heard from them?” He saw Felix check his phone.

  “No.”

  His breath stuttered and a sound left his throat.

  “But that’s a good thing,” Felix said hastily, coming over to pull him away from the closed front door with a gentle hand on his arm.

  “It is?”

  “Yeah.” Felix led the way into the kitchen and started rummaging around for things. Soon, a pot of coffee was brewing and crackers and cheese were on the counter.

  “How long have you known Ryder?” he asked, slipping into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

  “About five years, I guess. We partner on some of the cases.”

  “Cases? Don’t you mean clients?”

  “Not all are bodyguard clients. Sometimes, we have a business or firm that needs protection. Cobalt does security and bodyguard services.”

  “You love it.” He smiled faintly.

  “I do. It’s a rush helping people. We get to save the day.” Felix grinned and poured two cups of coffee before placing cream and sugar on the table.

  Harrison sipped at the hot brew while Felix broke into a lively story of a recent case, changing the names, of course. He tried to keep his mind here, but it would only go back to Ryder. He warred with his nausea and finally broke down and took a few pills.

  “You have an ulcer?”

  “What?” Felix’s question jogged him back. “Oh, yeah, a small one. Nothing big, but when I’m stressed…” He shrugged.

  “It flares up. Yeah, they can be a bitch. I have a good friend who has one.” Felix nodded.

  The bodyguard’s phone rang and he answered it.

  “Yeah, hang on,” Felix said into the phone and then handed it over to him. “It’s for you.”

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.”

  He swallowed, shoved from the chair and left the kitchen. With the phone gripped tightly in his hand, he dashed at the tears rushing to the surface.

  “Hey,” his voice came out like a wobbly croak.

  “I’m okay,” Ryder rumbled.

  “Are you at the hospital?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happens now?” Was he going to be handed over to another bodyguard or team? Tears clogged up his throat and streamed down his cheeks so fast, he could barely get the words out.

  “Felix is going to bring you to me.”

  He sucked in a breath that caused his chest to shake and sank onto the edge of the couch in the dark living room. The fierce happiness that fisted his chest caused his whole heart to ache and generated a hope that he didn’t dare believe possible.

  “Okay?” Ryder asked gruffly.

  “Yes. God, Ryder, I’m so sorry.” His breath hitched.

  “This is not your fault.”

  “You could have died.” Like Mitch. He sniffled.

  Ryder growled and Harrison could picture him flexing and getting all protective. It made him smile through the tears.

  “Don’t do that. This is that sick fucks fault, you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

  Ryder

  Following Jaxon through the back door, he was ushered into a small bedroom a few feet away. He dropped down onto the bed and sprawled against the pillows. The bullet had creased him, but it was nothing compared to previous injuries. He trailed his fingers over the bandage and then draped his arm over his eyes.

  “I’ll be back,” Jaxon said and left the room.

  Ryder wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he fell asleep. The next time Jaxon came into the room with a whiskey bottle.

  “Still haven’t learned the art of dodging bullets yet?”

  “Screw you.” He sat up and shrugged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor.

  “Bend over,” Jaxon smirked.

  “You’re such an ass.”

  “You’re just now figuring that out? Drink this,” Jaxon ordered.

  He gazed up at his best friend, took the bottle and several long swallows of the whiskey with a grimace.

  Jaxon rummaged in a drawer and came back to the bed with a clean shirt.

  Ryder took another swallow of the booze, and slipped one arm in and then the other into the shirt Jaxon held out for him.

  “He’s a hottie.”

  “Who?”

  “Harrison.”

  “Harrison?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hottie? Ryder wiped at his mouth. He couldn’t argue, Harrison was hands down hot as hell.

  “He’s here?” He thought he’d have a few more hours to figure out why the hell he’d insisted that Logan leave him on this case.

  “Yup, Felix brought him in the garage side door the same time I brought you in through the back.”

  “He’s a client, nothing more.”

  Jaxon snorted. “Client my ass.”

  Ryder scowled at his friend. Jaxon didn’t flinch, the ex-marine stared him down. Fuck. He took another swallow of liquor, trying like hell to shove Harrison back into the role of client in his tired brain.

  “If he’s only a client, then why did you put up such a fight at the hospital when Logan wanted to reassign him?”

  “I’m not pulling off this case. And Logan trying to pull that shit fucking pisses me off.” He’d never failed at an assignment and he wasn’t going to start now.

  “God forbid you’re not perfect,” Jaxon said dryly.

  “It’s not that,” he argued.

  Jaxon shook his head. “Look, you have every right to have someone take over until you’re at one hundred percent.”

  Ryder clenched his teeth. “I’m at one hundred percent.”

  “I’m not saying you can’t do your job. I’m just asking why the push to stay on Harrison’s detail?”

  “I don’t quit.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and then kneaded at the back of his neck.

  “I think it’s the man himself,” Jaxon smirked.

  “Don’t even fucking go there.”

  Jaxon studied him for so long, Ryder fidgeted.

  “They’re not all like Warren, Ryder.”

  His teeth snapped together. “I know that and this has nothing to do with that!”

  “Maybe, but I think you’re blind. I could tell after five minutes of talking to Harrison that he’s starting to care for you.”

  He said nothing, staring at Jaxon, refusing to go down that road. That road led to nothing but trouble.

  “Hey,” Felix said from the doo
rway. “I’m taking off.”

  “Thanks, Felix,” he said thickly. It must have been the booze.

  “Anytime.” Felix nodded and winked at him. The bodyguard clapped Jaxon on the shoulder before disappearing.

  “Okay, enough of the lecture.” Jaxon nodded at the bullet wound on his side. “It’s not just an overzealous stalker any longer, someone wants him dead.”

  Ryder held Jaxon’s stare. “I don’t think they were aiming at Harrison.”

  Jaxon quirked a brow. “Did you get in the way of someone’s candy?”

  “Yeah. It would have been just as easy to shoot Harrison as it had been me.” He took another long swallow of liquor and shoved away the thought of a bullet coming anywhere near Harrison.

  “What about the stepmother you said was money hungry?”

  “She’s also a drug addict. Honestly, I don’t know. At this point, it could be a stranger or a friend or his fucked up family. There’s just too many dysfunctional people surrounding him to get a good idea. Any one of them could be guilty.”

  “Logan said the shooter was in the parking garage across the street,” Jaxon said.

  “I know. Brick said that whoever it was, was too well hidden at the time and gone within seconds after the shooting. Makes me wonder if the shooter knew they were doing surveillance.”

  “I don’t know, but after an hour combing the area, the cops found nine millimeter shell casings in the parking structure across the street,” his friend said.

  “Good, maybe that will tie it back to someone.”

  “The detectives have any leads?” Jaxon asked.

  “No, they didn’t find any prints at Harrison’s place and no match to the DNA left on any of the notes. We gave them a few names after the brakes were cut, but haven’t heard back.” He scowled and took another swallow, the bourbon burning pleasantly.

  Jaxon leaned a shoulder against the door jamb and studied him. Ryder avoided his friend’s stare and took another long swallow. He set aside the bottle and worked his fumbling fingers at the buttons on the shirt.

  “Getting too close on this one?”

  “What? No.” He frowned and wiped a hand over his mouth, giving up the struggle to button the damned shirt. “Just worried in the usual way.”

  “Right.”

  “Kiss my ass,” he mumbled. Damn it, now he was buzzed. But Jaxon’s place was a fortress and the only place he felt completely safe for him and Harrison right now.

 

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