Guardian For Hire: A For Hire Novel

by Christine Bell

  “Party?”

  “Well, of course. The DAR fund-raiser has to take place somewhere. What better time than your birthday? Maybe if you had a man with you, then everyone would be willing to ignore your latest…incident. And the one before that. And the one before that.” She tilted her head back to take in the rest of her drink.

  So she hadn’t meant to throw a log onto Sarabeth’s regret fire. Her grandmother had intended to toss an entire tree in there and start a bonfire. How else would she get what she wanted?

  But it was enough. The tree hadn’t built the fire, it had smothered it, crushing it until she realized exactly what it had been before—carefully stoked so that other people could feed from it. A way to keep her down. But no more.

  She took a deep breath, getting to her feet. “Let me get this straight. By my latest incident, you mean the Mafia attempt on my life? And the one before, you mean the opportunity to work in the field of my choice and provide for myself instead of having every moment of my life micromanaged by you and your do-nothing friends? And I’m assuming that the incident before that would be my birth. I’m so sorry, I know that one was definitely my fault. You’re so right.”

  “Who do you think you’re—?”

  She straightened her spine and jabbed a finger in the older woman’s direction. “No, who do you think you’re talking to? I’m a grown woman. I started my own practice. I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t glom on to other people to support myself. You’re right, I’m almost thirty. I know!” She threw her hands in the air wildly. “Grab another gin martini because the very thought of having a thirty-year-old unmarried granddaughter is too much to handle sober, but those are the facts. I’m going home, and I don’t care how many reporters are waiting for me when I get there. I know you don’t either, so let’s drop the charade.”

  The thoughts that had been trapped inside her head came pouring out like hot, fresh tears. Soothing and necessary. She ignored her grandmother’s exaggerated gasps of horror, grabbed her purse, and barreled out of the house to her waiting rental car. It was time to start fresh and to take action.

  She swiped at the tears of anger filling her eyes and jammed the keys into the ignition. Now that she’d made her mind up, even the fury she felt toward her grandmother took a backseat. She was going to see Gavin again, and as scary as that was, it also marked the first moment she felt truly alive since he’d driven away.

  She dodged the single remaining local news van, headed for the mall, and quickly made the rounds to several stores before finding what she needed. She slipped into the ladies’ room to change. It had been nothing short of a miracle, but she’d found sleek black leather leggings and a matching top. She pulled on high-top combat boots as a finishing touch, though she couldn’t resist grabbing the pair that had light rhinestone patterns etched on the heel. After all, what was the point in going all out if she wasn’t going to do it right?

  Stepping out of the stall, she examined herself in the opposite mirror, pulling on a top that exposed her abdomen. She blew hair from her face and bit her bottom lip. Add a bad perm, and she would have looked like she’d stolen Sandy’s getup from Grease. That was okay, though. Almost better.

  She made a few more stops, picking up a piece of carpet, wire cutters, the whole arsenal of things she could remember being in Gavin’s car. After a quick visit to the perfume and makeup counter, night had fallen, and she was ready to strike.

  When she pulled onto his street, it was after ten. She parked around the corner and jogged toward the huge, touch-me-not gates, taking a deep breath and laying out the plan in her mind one last time. At this time of night, Gavin was usually sequestered in his office, poring over files and being a general shut-in. Soon, he’d trudge off to bed, making her mission that much easier.

  She’d have to get past each of the defense systems, and that should be easy enough. He wouldn’t be watching the cameras embedded in the shrubs in his yard, so that wouldn’t be much of a problem. The only real issue was the fingerprint scanner. One wrong response and the thing was bound to go off. She didn’t have the equipment to figure a way around it. Still, that was a bridge she’d have to cross when she got to it.

  She squared her shoulders, shimmying over the first fence the way she had the night they’d broken into that house. The wrought iron, so much more difficult to surpass than the chain link, proved a challenge, but she’d worn easy-grip black gloves to avoid the abrasive metal rubbing on her bare skin. When she got to the top, her hand slipped, and she toppled to the ground on the opposite side, knocking the wind from her lungs as her tailbone tried to convince her that she should turn back and forget that she’d ever devised such a cockamamy scheme.

  She wasn’t about to let anything stop her from getting to Gavin tonight, though. After years of taking the cautious route, she was through with that.

  The second and third gates went more easily, and when she came to the fourth gate, she was already summoning all of her mental fortitude, trying to think up a way through the only obstacle that seemed insurmountable. But when she’d finally got there, the gate was wide open, swaying back and forth with the light evening breeze.

  “What the…” she whispered to herself. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, she stepped through the entrance, wincing as she anticipated an electric shock or for spikes to come flying at her from all directions. It was too easy, far too easy. Something was wrong.

  Someone had been here before her. Were they trying to avenge Vito? Trying to get rid of the witness who threatened to bring a criminal empire to its knees? Maybe they hadn’t believed that they’d distributed copies of the tapes after all. Her heart raced, and she sprinted for the door, not bothering to close the gate behind her.

  She hustled to the side of the building where Gavin’s room was, pulling the grappling hook from her bag as she went, only to find a ladder already propped against the wall leading straight to his bedroom window. She wanted to scream, make sure he was okay, but she knew that the tactical play was to remain calm and face her enemy while they were caught unaware.

  She muscled up the ladder, leaving her equipment in the bank of grass in order to move unencumbered.

  When she got to his bedroom, her blood ran cold. Ice coated every vein only to be quickly shattered by the scalding hot rage boiling through her.

  She climbed through the window to the thunderous cries of Gavin’s uproarious, barking laughter.

  He was sitting up in his bed, his naked torso partially obscured by the tiny portable television in his hands. Tears were streaming down his face, and his mirth was so violent that for a moment he stopped, apparently unable to breathe. “Thank you so much, I really needed this after the day I’ve had.” He held his TV aloft and collapsed back onto the pillows in another fit of hilarity.

  She crossed her arms over her ridiculous top, jutting out an angry hip. “How did you even know I was here?”

  “Well, I’m a security expert, love. And you tripped every single silent alarm on the grounds.” He raised his eyebrows, the laughter still playing across his lips.

  “You opened that gate?”

  “After watching you fall off the first gate, I didn’t want to see what would happen at that one.”

  Her rage strained at her eyes, forcing angry tears to prick at her. “I thought the mob had gotten in here. I thought you were dead.” Screw it, what had she been thinking? Why would she rush in here to be treated like this? She may as well climb back through the window and head back home. Cut her losses.

  She was about to make for the window when his laughter died off, interrupted by the ferocious, serious tone she was much more accustomed to.

  “Wait, wait, you thought the mob was in here so your response was to come rushing in?” He knit his brows together, and she gave him a silent nod. “That’s basically suicide.”

  “I don’t know, Gavin. It was stupid. You won’t have to worry about me again.” She swallowed hard and placed her studded heel back on the s
ill, cursing herself for ever trying something so incredibly stupid.

  …

  “Doc, wait,” he called, and she turned, the night air blowing her dark-brown hair over her face. “I need to know. Why would you do something like that? Do you have a death wish?” She was quiet so long, it physically hurt him. He was afraid to hope, but if there was any chance…

  He watched the battle play out on her face. Fear, anxiety and then finally determination as she firmed her chin and faced him head on.

  “I did it because—because I care about you. I…I love you. And I want to be a part of this.” She gestured around his room, then toward her clothes. “This life. I’ve never felt more, I don’t know, alive than when I was here. With you.” Her face turned red, but she continued, shiny trails of tears glistening down her cheeks. “It’s okay that you don’t feel the same way. I understand, I really do. But…but you had to know. I needed you to know that much.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, heart knocking against his ribs as he tried to choose his words carefully. This instant had been his nightly dream for a week since she’d left, and still no words came to him. It was only when she bent her knee in preparation to climb out the window and disappear from his life all over again, that he was able to work the words past his tight throat.

  “Sarabeth,” he started. It was hard enough to have to do it the first time. It had nearly killed him. A second go might be the final nail in his coffin, but still he had to make her understand what she would be getting herself into with him. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He wanted to punch himself for saying something so stupid. But there it was, the truth.

  She laughed feebly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “No, I mean it,” he tried again. “This life? You might think you want it now, but it’s not good enough for you. You’re not the girl who should be sitting up at night wondering if I come home, and you’re certainly not the girl I want to worry about getting caught in a firefight. You deserve something better than me. You think I’m your knight in shining armor like in one of your books, but you’re wrong.” He stood and held her gaze, his heart breaking with every word. “And even if I was, what you deserve is a prince.”

  Nothing he’d said or done up to that point seemed to enrage her as much as the speech he’d given. Her whole body shook while her face blanched, her lips twisting into a contorted white line. “What else do I have to do, huh? Skywriting? What do I need to do to convince you that I don’t care about any of that? I don’t care what you were, I don’t care what you think I am. I want you now. I want this. So don’t come up with stupid excuses. Don’t try to say I’m looking for my stupid freaking prince in the wrong castle. I don’t want to hear it. If you don’t love me, be a man and say it. All this other nonsense is a waste of my time.”

  He stared at her, trying to force the lie past his lips. Instead, the truth came tumbling out in a gritty rasp. “I can’t do that.”

  She stepped away from the window. “Come again?”

  Fuck all, what was he doing? He sure as shit didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop it. “I can’t tell you that I don’t love you. I’m miserable without you. Every day without you has been hell.” He ran a hand through the bristles of his hair and let out a short laugh. “I spend half my nights thinking about kidnapping you and flying you to Cairo or somewhere. But it’s not right—”

  “You think too much.” She stalked toward him and leaped at him, knocking the portable security monitor from his hand so that she could push him back onto the bed and straddle him. Her kiss was hot and sweet, her greeting him with her tongue before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

  “I’ve lived my whole life trying to please everyone else. Trying to do what people thought was best for me. And just when I thought I was going to get out of the trap, I made a terrible mistake.” She wet her lips and held his gaze. “I trusted Nico and fell for his lies. It shook my confidence, and I started to wonder if I’d ever get it back or if maybe it was better to sit back and let someone else take the controls after all.”

  She leaned low and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Being with you made me stronger. It made me realize that part of growing means making mistakes and then moving past them. It means taking risks and fighting for what you want.” She flexed her hips against his, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “This is me, fighting for you.”

  Heat surged to his groin, and he shook his head, trying not to let the need distract him. “Your grandparents will never accept me. I may have money now, but I’m far too rough around the edges to ever fit in there. Hell, they might even disown you.” The words were ripped out of him, but he had to be sure she knew exactly what she stood to lose by choosing him.

  “I know it’s sad to say, but I don’t want to be owned by them anymore. I used to. When I was young, I’d wish they’d hug me, or read to me. You know, the things you see families do on TV. Dinners together, vacations at the lake. Picking out a messy, dumb dog.”

  He reached up and brushed a strand of still, dark hair from her eyes, wishing he could take the pain away.

  “But I feel like I can still have that. Not with them, but maybe…”

  With him. The thought filled him with warmth, and images of baby girls with glass-green eyes flitted through his head. Jesus.

  “I—” This wasn’t how this was all supposed to go, but she was making a damned good case, and one thing was for sure. He loved her like crazy, and while he couldn’t promise her life would always be easy with a guy like him, he’d do anything in his power to make her happy. “Sarabeth, I…”

  Her fearful eyes went soft, and she smiled. “I see it on your face already, but I need to hear it. If you say it, I’ll stay. But I’ve got to give you fair warning—you’ll never get me to leave once you do.”

  Nothing had ever felt as good as hearing those words.

  “In that case.” He lifted her up and pinned her beneath him, drinking in how incredibly gorgeous she looked there, and realizing, with a thrill, that she’d be there forever. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  Epilogue

  Four months later…

  Sarabeth hitched the last of the boxes on her hip and locked her office door for the last time before depositing her key in the lockbox in the hallway. Her heart skittered as she stepped into the warm afternoon air and sucked in a deep breath. This was it. The beginning of her new life. Dr. Sarabeth Lucking was now going to be Security Analyst Sarabeth Lucking, and she couldn’t wait to get started.

  Spring had turned to summer since what she’d taken to calling the DeSalvo Debacle had finally ended, and three of those four months had been the happiest of her life. The first few weeks had been rough. She’d originally planned to take things slow and do the long distance thing with Gavin until the fall when all her ducks were in a row, but it hadn’t worked. She didn’t want to be a psychologist anymore, and her perfect, cookie-cutter house felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone she didn’t even know anymore. She wanted different and fun and contemporary instead of staid and fussy and boring.

  She chuckled at that thought as she unlocked the door of her new Volvo and slung the box into the back. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t entirely a changed woman. Safety was important, but at least this car was cherry red. A fact that pleased her beyond measure. Which reminded her, tonight was the night she was going to have to finally talk to Gavin about maybe doing some redecorating. She’d sold her house two weeks ago and still hadn’t made time to put some feminine touches on Castle Grayskull yet. Maybe she’d ply him with wine and hot sex tonight before opening up a discussion on accent walls and throw pillows.

  She slid behind the wheel and spared one last look out the window at her old office building, surprised by the absence of sadness. After poking around deep, all she could find was excitement…anticipation for her new career to start. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t get to use her training ever again. Part of her new job at McClintock and Saunders was going to be analyzing crimin
al behaviors and helping Maddy with their new sister offshoot, McClintock and Saunders Investigation. She couldn’t wait to dig in. But right now, it was time to get home and spend some much-needed quality time with Gavin. She hadn’t seen him in the three days since she’d come back to Chicago to close up shop, and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him.

  The drive felt like days instead of hours, and traffic was a bitch, but by the time she pulled up to the monstrosity she called home, her irritation melted away in the face of her relief. Finally, she was exactly where she was meant to be, and she’d never have to leave again.

  She left the boxes behind, wanting to be able to leap at her man unencumbered the second she walked in, and ran up the pathway. Before she got to the porch, the door swung wide.

  “Gavin?” she called, surprised he wasn’t standing in the doorway.

  She jogged lightly up the stairs and stepped in, peering down the hall. “Hellooo?”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she was about to back slowly toward the door again when he called back to her.

  “I’m in the den.”

  She almost slumped with relief. It was better every day, but sometimes paranoia still got the better of her. Still, it was super weird that he was in the den at all. He spent most of his time in the living room or office. She wound her way through the house, and as she approached the den, a familiar scent hit her. Wet paint. She groaned inwardly. More gray, no doubt, and she mentally kicked herself for not having the remodeling talk before she left.

  Not about to let this latest tiny snafu ruin her day, she sailed into the room calling, “Honey, I’m ho-ome—” but then froze in her tracks as she took in her surroundings, bewildered. The den wasn’t gray at all. It had been painted a lovely sage green, and amber accents were scattered around the room—a candle here, a vase there, a large picture of gerbera daisies hanging over the fireplace. Soft, bluesy music played in the background, and a bottle of champagne flanked by two crystal flutes sat on a low coffee table. Tears blurred her vision as she struggled for words but came up empty.