Jasmine (Kings of Guardian Book 6)

by Kris Michaels

  “A tradition on our dad’s side. My baby brother has four boys, Talon, Tanner, Trace, and Tristan.”

  “Is your mom still alive?”

  “Yep. As a matter of fact, she’s remarried and lives on the ranch where the training complex is located. Frank, the man who owns the ranch, is my stepfather and my sister-in-law’s dad. My mom and Frank met after my brother Jacob and Frank’s daughter Victoria were married.”

  Chad blinked at her, his expression blank for a full minute. “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?”

  “They say family lines are tangled down south. That right there… that’s impressive.”

  “I agree.”

  “So is this Frank part of Guardian?”

  “No, he just sold the land in the middle of his ranch to the company. It’s a great facility. There’s a hospital, a physical rehab center, training complex, indoor and outdoor gun ranges, a runway and a helipad. I think the last time I heard, the facility had over twenty full-time Guardian staff members working and living on or near the ranch. The little town of Hollister has had an influx of people over the last three years, that’s for sure.”

  “I see.” Chad stared at her. In a very disconcerting, direct, I-can-see-right-through-you, fashion.

  “What?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  His look never wavered, even when her eyes continued to scan the road behind them because that dark blue SUV had been hanging back there for a while now. She hit the button taking the vehicle off cruise and lowered the speed she was traveling. Might be nothing, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.

  “Still waiting.”

  Chad’s words pulled her from her consideration of the vehicle behind her.

  “For what?”

  “For you to tell me something about you.”

  “I just told you a lot about me.” Jasmine noticed the SUV gaining on them and relaxed a little as she brought the vehicle back up to speed.

  “No, you just told me about your brothers, your sisters, your mom and stepdad and the town of Hollister. You most definitely did not tell me one thing about you.”

  Jasmine glanced at him. For a self-proclaimed country bumpkin, the man was sharp. No wonder he’d been able to build a music empire.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “If you had two wishes what would they be?”

  “The first one would be that my dad…” She glanced back at the SUV. It had backed off again. Something wasn’t right. Jasmine accelerated and lifted a hand as Chad started to talk again. There was no one in front of them or behind them except that one vehicle. She hit the accelerator, forcing the beast she was driving to lurch forward. The SUV behind her held pace.

  “Shit. Here, push and hold #3. That will bring up Jared. Tell him we are on I-29—fifty miles south of Sioux Falls. We have a late-model black or dark blue Chevy giving chase.”

  Jasmine opened the compartment door next to the steering wheel, flipped up a protective plastic cover and pressed a small black button. The duress would alert every highway patrol, sheriff and municipality cop in a fifty-mile radius. The problem was, they were in the middle of nowhere. The SUV behind them was gaining speed.

  Chad looked back while talking to Jared. “Shit, they’ve got a gun!”

  Jasmine jerked the wheel to the left, slicing into the passing lane and obstructing the view of the shooter. “Bulletproof glass, run-flat tires and armored plating. You’re safe.” Jasmine waited until the SUV had slid in behind her before she broke right and stomped on the breaks. Chad’s arms flew to the dash in an instinctive brace even though his seat belt kept him in place as the chase vehicle flew past on the left.

  Smoke billowed from under the shuddering vehicle as it skidded to a violent stop. Jasmine gunned the armored SUV and headed straight toward the stopped vehicle. She needed more speed to catch and T-bone the lighter vehicle. A series of bullets hit the windshield. Shit got deadly quick.

  “Brace!” Jasmine yelled just as the lighter SUV punched its gas in reverse. The vehicles raced toward each other on a collision course. The smaller SUV had the angle it needed, and the impact sent their vehicle sideways. Jasmine hit the brakes and threw the vehicle into reverse just as the lighter vehicle once again smashed into the back corner panel of their armored vehicle. The impact pushed them to the shoulder of the road. Her tires caught on the edge of the asphalt. The driver of the other vehicle kept the gas floored, pushing them toward the edge of the shoulder. The truck tilted, held on the edge of the ditch and then tumbled down the embankment.

  ~~

  The impact slammed Chad’s back against the doorjamb and jolted him toward Jasmine. He saw her head strike the door frame as both of their airbags exploded. The windshield shattered into a thousand spider cracks. The vehicle rolled once more, and he was hanging upside down. He released his seatbelt and scrambled over to lower Jasmine. Blood covered her face from a ragged gash torn along her hairline. Her pulse was strong, but she was out. The dust from the airbag explosion hung heavy in the compressed cabin of the SUV. Chad carefully released her restraints and eased her down to the roof. He reached for the keys and pulled them out of the ignition. Scrambling to the back, he fumbled with the lock.

  He heard the sound of car doors slamming. The lid to the built-in gun case opened, spilling the contents of the box onto the roof of the vehicle. Chad grabbed an M4, two clips of ammo and “locked and loaded”. He’d performed the action so many times during his tours of duty that even after all these years the act was smooth and steady.

  Chad heard someone shout. He got down on his stomach and waited, looking toward the direction he’d heard the voices. The side windows had exploded during the roll down the embankment, and the side window airbags hung shrouding the openings as they deflated. Chad shimmied through a thousand pebbles of safety glass. He settled in his prone position and snugged the automatic rifle to his cheek.

  “Take out their feet. Need intel.” Jasmine’s whispered words were a sweet relief.

  He watched as two set of legs came into view. Both wore suits. Both sets of shoes halted momentarily. Chad could see one man bend down, a gun pointed directly at the cab. Only the debris of the wreckage prevented the man from seeing them clearly. He watched as the man motioned his partner in the other direction, which would flank Chad and leave Jasmine exposed. These men knew what they were doing. They were going to try to kill both of them. They started to split up. Chad flipped the safety off, breaking the uncanny silence. The men reacted, but not before Chad shattered their ankles and shins with a steady percussion of automatic fire. Both targets went down screaming. Chad knew that didn’t mean they didn’t have the wherewithal to keep their weapons or fire them. Chad motioned to Jasmine. He crept from the vehicle on the opposite side. His head and shoulder screamed obscenities at him, but the adrenaline of the crash and the very present danger kept him moving. He peeked around the base of the SUV, lifted the rifle and trained it on the man closest. Chad approached the man farthest from the vehicle, his attention split between the two men. He kicked the man’s weapon away. As he watched both men, Jasmine crawled from the wreckage and stood. She staggered to the man closest to the vehicle. Blood oozed from her head wound, but her rock steady aim with her .45 froze the man instantaneously.

  “Drop the gun, motherfucker.”

  Chad had to give it to his woman. She had a way with words. She kicked the weapon away as soon as the guy dropped it. He watched as she cuffed him in record time. His agonized shrieks of pain at being twisted with shattered tibias didn’t bother him one bit. The guy under him swore. Or at least Chad assumed it was a cuss word. It wasn’t English, and it wasn’t Spanish. Chad could speak both.

  “What did you say?” Chad put the muzzle of his rifle against the man’s temple.

  “Fuck you.” The man spat the words toward Chad.

  “Nah, rather not. Not my idea of a good time.”

  Jasmine walked over and leaned against the rolled vehicle.

>   “Jasmine, watch him. I saw some flexicuffs, and I need to get that bleeding stopped.

  She nodded and pointed her weapon. Her breathing was ragged, but her aim was straight and true. Chad made quick work of securing the man, grabbed a first aid kit and headed straight toward her.

  Jasmine waved him away. “I need answers.” She walked over to the one who had cursed at Chad. He watched as she lifted her toe and set it against the fracture in the man’s leg. “Learned this little trick from my brother. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Who do you work for?”

  The man said nothing. Jasmine pressed weight down onto his leg, and he jerked forward, convulsing in pain. Chad turned his attention to the other man. He needed to stop the blood flow, or the bastard would bleed out. He stripped his shirt and wrapped the man’s wounds. It wasn’t perfect, but it might help.

  Another blood-curdling shriek came from the man Jasmine was questioning. The man he worked on whispered, “Not after you. Her.”

  Chad snapped his fingers at Jasmine and waved her over. “Why are you after her?”

  The man shook his head. “Sending a message.”

  “A message to who?”

  “Guardian.”

  “What’s the message?”

  The man shuddered and gripped Chad’s hand in pain. “Not safe. Nobody’s safe. Zlo knows. Stay out of his business.” His Slavic accent was pronounced.

  “Who is Slow?” Chad asked.

  The man shook his head. “He knows everything.”

  The sound of a car passing and slamming on its brakes drew his attention toward the roadway. The piercing shrill of a responding police vehicle registered, too. He’d been so focused on what the man was saying that he hadn’t heard the vehicle’s approach. Jasmine pulled her badge from her belt and held it up. Her face, now painted in a macabre mask of blood, stopped the responding officer for a split second. She motioned toward the two men cuffed and lying in pools of their own blood. “Under arrest. Attempted murder. Guardian’s jurisdiction. They need to be Mirandized.”

  The state trooper acknowledged her and directed a few good Samaritans who had stopped to help. Chad crawled to where Jasmine leaned against the SUV. He sat down next to her and helped her as she slid down the vehicle and sat at his side. He hurt in places he didn’t know he could hurt. Tiny cuts from the safety glass littered his stomach and chest. He grabbed the tail of his tattered t-shirt and ripped a portion of material free. He shook it to make sure there was no glass before he folded it and gently placed it on her forehead.

  “A little late for that, isn’t it?” Jasmine’s voice shook. She was probably coming off the adrenaline rush, too.

  “Makes me feel better.” Chad tucked her closer to him. “You do not live a boring life.”

  “Not usually this exciting.” Jasmine waved off an ambulance attendant and pointed toward the man who’d talked. “Take care of him first.”

  The medic nodded and changed course.

  “Care to explain all that?” Chad waved toward the men.

  “Not sure if I can.”

  “You don’t know, or you can’t say?”

  “A little of both.”

  “Not going to settle for that.”

  “Noted.”

  “Your SUV is fucked up.”

  “I don’t think that will matter soon.”

  “Why?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, you’ll be meeting some of my friends soon.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yep. Kick-ass, bad motherfuckers. They’re the ain’t-going-to-have-to-worry-about-this-shit-any-longer type friends.”

  “Do you kiss your momma with that mouth?”

  “Do you?” Jasmine laughed.

  It was better than music to his ears.

  Her cell phone vibrated inside the vehicle. She rolled her head. They both just looked at the damn thing.

  “I should answer that.”

  “He’s probably worried,” Chad agreed.

  “That would mean we’d have to move.”

  A stretcher and two attendants carried one of the two men he’d shot to the ambulance. At least five cops ran around and directed traffic. Another set of paramedics approached them. “Ma’am. Can I take a look at that wound?”

  Jasmine nodded slightly.

  The medic crouched down and did his best to examine the wound while she was tucked against Chad’s side. “You’re going to need stitches. There’s still glass in there. We need to get it cleaned up. Are you injured anywhere else?”

  Jasmine shook her head slowly.

  A second man showed up and identified himself as a doctor. He motioned for the paramedic to move. “Ma’am, can I get you to look at my finger? I want to make sure we aren’t looking at anything more serious than a gash on your forehead.”

  “I’m sore from the accident. I don’t have double vision. I’ve had concussions before.”

  He chuckled at the testy tone in her voice.

  “Jasmine, be nice to the man. He’s only trying to help.”

  “Shut up, Teddy. I don’t want to play nice right now.”

  Chad chuckled at her use of his mom’s nickname for him. She was still protecting him even though nobody had given him a second glance. She sat forward and allowed the man’s tests.

  A cop handed Chad a gray sweatshirt emblazoned with a badge on the chest. He pulled it over his cuts. They weren’t life threatening. A nice long hot shower was all he needed. He stood and groaned at the effort. “Thanks, officer. Appreciate it.”

  The man reached down and grabbed Chad’s cap too. “Might want to put this on, Mr. Nelson. The lookie-loos are slowing down. Once you get up to the road, they’ll see you. We need you and Ms. King to come with us if the paramedics release you. We need statements.”

  “Thank you. That’s considerate of you.”

  “Hell, I’m not above asking for an autograph, but I can wait until we get back to the station.” Huge dimples split the trooper’s face when he smiled.

  “Officer, you get us out of here without anyone figuring out who I am, and I’ll do you one better. I’ll come back one day and sing for you and your department. Oh!” Chad swiveled around, looking for his guitar case. It was jammed in the back of the SUV.

  “I need that case.”

  The officer retrieved it and Jasmine’s cell phone with a lot less effort than it would have taken Chad. He was sore and fucking exhausted, but he wasn’t leaving without the song he’d written for Jasmine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chad rested his head against the wall in the lobby of the police station. The pleather chair took platinum for being uncomfortable. Fuck, he was tired. Jasmine leaned against him. His mind raced around in circles like he was Jimmie Johnson’s number 48 car at Lowe’s Motor Speedway. Way too fast for anyone to catch up with. Seriously, it was Jasmine’s head on his shoulder and her warmth at his side that kept him from going off the deep end. He thought about his realization last night. She was indeed his safe haven, his port in this insane storm that had become his life. He lowered his cheek to her hair, resting with her. She wasn’t asleep, but she wasn’t far from it.

  They’d given their statements and surrendered the weapons they’d used… well, he’d used. Jasmine hadn’t fired a round, and that was making the authorities crazy. The police officers had attempted to interview, or rather, interrogate him, but Chad had stopped being cooperative about five seconds into the interview. The way the two cops looked at him and the direction their questions were taking… no, there was no way he was saying a fucking word. He just shut his mouth and asked for a lawyer. He hadn’t needed to lawyer up, because all questions came to a screaming halt when their superior walked into the interview room and gave the assholes across the table a cease and desist order. Some bigwig at Guardian had put his foot up someone’s ass. Hard.

  His concealed carry permit had been transmitted, along with the documentation on his newly minted and current weapons qualification for the M4. That was a
flat-out lie, but one he’d never dispute. The supervisor slapped it down in front of the officers and left.

  Jasmine had walked in as the assholes departed. She nodded to the door, and they left. Had this happened to him last week, he’d be freaking, but something about the calm reassurance of the woman next to him settled his nerves. She melted against him and drew a deep breath. Someone offered to give them a ride somewhere, but Jasmine waved it off with a mumble about “some friends coming” and then collapsed next to him.

  The sleepy little town they’d been transported to was like every other small town in middle America. Trucks and SUVs outnumbered cars. The old fashioned main street had very little traffic. A grocery store across the way boasted a total of five cars in the parking lot. Chad assumed at least three of them were employee owned. He watched a tractor roll down the street and smiled. Country didn’t change much from one state to the next.

  A sound he knew from the past directed his attention away from the tractor. I must be suffering flashbacks. There’s no way… yet the thrum became a steady whop, whop, whop. Chad leaned forward and gazed out the plate glass window. A helicopter came into view and circled the buildings. It landed in a nearly vacant parking lot across the street from the police station and adjacent to the little grocery store. It was a Black Hawk—albeit minus the outboard .50 caliber machine guns he’d been used to seeing. The second the craft was on the ground, two huge men wearing black battle dress uniforms and a third, one of the pilots, who wore a black flight suit, disembarked and headed across the lot. Chad had a feeling these were the friends Jasmine had mentioned.

  The two cops that had been so vigorous in their questioning exited the bullpen area and gawked at the bird. Jasmine lifted off the chairs. Black and blue bruising and dried blood couldn’t detract from her determined grace and beauty. He grabbed their bags and his guitar case.

  “Our ride has arrived. If you need anything further, you know where to find us.”