FROST SECURITY: Richard

by Glenna Sinclair

  Big Bear planted his feet in the gravel, laughing almost he as pounded his ham-hock fists into my back. He stopped sliding backwards, but only because I’d stopped shoving.

  I shot my hands down grabbed the back of his thighs and lifted.

  “The fuck?” he yelled as I heaved him into the air by his middle.

  In the air, I positioned him so his back was right at the ground.

  He flailed, his fists at me again. With how close I was, and how tired he’d already become, each punch just glanced off my head and shoulders, barely phasing me.

  With a roar like an old hot rod, I slammed him into the ground with a resounding crash, knocking the wind from him as I pinned him to earth like a spear from heaven. As I was just about to climb on top of him, to straddle his torso and pin his arms to the ground, I looked up. I realized then that my earlier roar hadn’t been my own, and that crash hadn’t been Big Bear and me going down.

  No, it had been Frank O’Dwyer, one of my pack mates! He’d put his old silver Shelby Mustang into a slide and gone right through the line of Skull and Bones bikes, sending them flying as he came through like a bowling ball.

  All around me were toppled motorcycles and broken bikers, the men screaming on the ground as Frank hopped from his car, its engine still rumbling like a panther. “Murdoch!” he yelled, sliding across the hood of his now scratched up and dented Mustang like some 80s bad ass, sidearm already pulled as his combat boots hit the highway’s surface at a run.

  I slammed my fist into Big Bear’s face, knocking his head back into the asphalt. “Frank!” I called back, glancing up at him.

  “What the fuck, buddy?” Frank yelled, his pistol’s barrel directed to the ground. At least he had enough sense not to start picking up targets without knowing exactly what was going on. “What the hell you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” I yelled from on top of Big Bear, punching him again and splattering his nose all over his face. “Fighting bikers!”

  All around us, the Bonesmen were getting to their feet shakily. As if by unspoken command, they clamored for their bikes. They were going, I realized. Still, I was impressed they could even move. It’s not every day an old sports car slams your bike into you like that.

  I climbed off Big Bear, who didn’t have any fight left in him as far as I could tell, and one of the guys came over and helped him regain his wobbly legs.

  I moved back from him, my eyes darting around as I checked out the men around us.

  He looked at me around his already swelling nose. “This ain’t over,”

  “What the fuck, man?” I asked, my fists back up in front of my face. “Wasn’t my ass that ended up on the ground, getting helped up by his buddies.”

  Big Bear hocked up a big bloody loogie, spat it to the side. “Fuck you!” he growled. “Your buddy showed up to help you.”

  “He showed up after I kicked your ass!” I tried to remind him.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Then this ain’t over cause our bikes.” Behind him, his buddies were already getting their bikes turned around, pointed off back to Enchanted Rock. They were keeping one eye on Frank, who still had his pistol at the ready, and one eye on me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. You call my secretary and set up my rematch. Just leave the girl out of this, or I’ll do worse than beat your ass next time.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t back up, bitch,” he growled.

  “Fine, whatever.” I replied. “Guess I’ll see around then. Meantime, you just take your trashy asses out of here. Next time I see you in my town, though, I won’t be as fucking nice as I was today. Hear me?”

  He growled again, started to go after me, but his buddy that was holding him up and helping to keep him standing, pulled him back. “Nah, Bo, this shit’s over for right now.”

  Big Bear glanced down at him where he was tucked beneath his armpit, growled again as he looked back to me. “Be seeing you, asshole.”

  “Yeah, Bo,” I said. “I’ll be looking forward to our next conversation.” I would have air-quoted the last part, but he was still within swinging distance.

  He growled again, then his buddy helped him over to his bike, one of the only ones still standing from Frank’s powerslide.

  As they started their bikes, I looked to Frank. “You came North on the highway, right?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod, his eyes still locked on the bikers as they started up their bikes and headed back to Enchanted Rock.

  “Did you see a red Jetta on the way here?”

  “Now that you mention it,” he said, “I did. Off on the side of the road, looked broken down. Why?”

  My heat started pumping again, full throttle. I knew they’d had a reason for cutting me off from her! “Shit,” I shouted as I ran back to my Jeep and reloaded my pistol, put it back in the console.

  “What?” Frank asked as he came around to my driver side.

  “That was our client,” I explained as I started up the Jeep. “They cut me off from her.”

  He nodded. “Meet you there!” He was off in a flash, running around to hop back in his Mustang.

  This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have lagged so far behind her, should have just rammed through those bikers when they’d blockaded my way down the road. Would’ve served those fuckers right to have this much domestic steel rammed right up their hairy asses.

  I took off before Frank could even get the door open and climb inside.

  I just hoped Jessica was okay. I didn’t know what I’d do with myself if they’d even hurt a hair on her head. Not just because she was client, either. This was something else.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Jessica

  I was a little shaken up, but I was fine over all. I’d never been driven off the road like that before, so at least it was a new experience. A little adventure, I guess. Admittedly, I didn’t ever want to do it again, or anything, but at least I wasn’t hurt, as far as I could tell. My airbag hadn’t even deployed, and I hadn’t been knocked around at all by the crash.

  My little Jetta, on the other hand, was screwed. One of the rocks I’d driven over when the black truck had slammed off the road had done something to my undercarriage, and oil was pooling beneath my car. And, on top of that, I’d had to kick the driver side door open to even get out. The double slam from my stalker had messed up those panels pretty thoroughly.

  I didn’t know what I’d do. Between the gallery going under, the crazy bikers that were apparently now out for blood, and my wrecked car, my whole life had just completely flipped, turned upside down. I felt like Will Smith, but without a rich uncle halfway across the country to take me in.

  And, God, what had happened to Richard? He still hadn’t shown up, and the distance he’d left between us shouldn’t have been more than a few moment’s drive. He should have been right behind me already. I could feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes as I thought of his body mangled at the bottom of the valley, my ultimate fate shifted to him somehow.

  What if they’d hurt him, too, somehow? All because of me not turning over my stupid gallery when Wyatt Axelrod had demanded it? I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him because of me. I didn’t care if it was his job to stand in harm’s way, or not. I turned and kicked my tire, frustrated, a couple tears spilling down my cheeks.

  Beside me, though, I heard the sound of his Jeep as he came driving around the corner.

  I looked back to him as he crunched to a halt behind my car, waving as my misty eyes locked with his own frantic gaze.

  “Fuck, Jessica!” he yelled as he leaped from the Jeep and came running to me, his eyes wide with obvious fear, blood dripping from his lips. “I’m so sorry! Some Skull and Bones bikers cut me off just as I lost sight of you!”

  My heart sang as he came running to me, and my tears of fear turned to ones of relief. “Sorry?” I asked, meeting him halfway as I sniffled. “What the hell happened to you? What are you sorry for?”

 
“I wasn’t here,” he said, putting an arm around my waist and pulling me into a warm, strong hug before either of us realized what he was doing. “Are you okay?” he nearly whispered in my ear.

  A shiver went through my body as I relaxed into his arms, lay my head against his chest and dried my tears on his shirt. “Yeah, it was just a fender bender,” I replied, pulling back from him so I could take a look at his bloodied face, at his already scabbing lips. I explained to him about the truck, told him about what happened. I reached up, forgetting that we didn’t have a relationship to speak of, touched his chin. “What about you? You’re all bloody.”

  He winced and brushed my hand from his face. “Some of those Skull and Bones bikers came up behind and cut me off. Got into a fight with one of them before Frank interrupted and kept me from kicking his ass,” he said. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “Besides, I’m not the one that’s been crying,” he continued as the old Mustang I’d seen earlier came barreling up and parked right behind Richard’s Jeep. With all these vehicles piling up, the side of the highway was starting to look like a parking lot.

  Another tall, equally heart-throbbing hunk climbed out of the car. Rather than blonde and clean shaven like Richard, this one had dark brown hair and a well-trimmed goatee. “Everyone okay?” he called as Richard broke away from me, almost as if was embarrassed by our moment of intimacy.

  “Yeah, Frank,” Richard called back. “Client’s fine.”

  At first I was hurt by his pulling away from me so suddenly, but then I realized this was another one of the security guys, the one who’d come up on the fight Richard had been in. If sleeping at my cabin the previous night had been against protocol and required special approval from Richard’s boss, then hugging a client and sharing a moment after a traumatic event, like we just had, certainly was too.

  “Frank, meet Jessica Long. Jessica, meet Frank O’Dwyer. He’s back up from Denver, and will be helping us out on your protection detail.”

  Frank grinned a little as he came towards me, his boots crunching over the gravel with every step. He was a little shorter than Richard, but he was definitely broader. He looked like the body building type, and, just like Richard, he exuded that same vibe of quiet danger. Not necessarily the kind of guy I’d personally go for, but I could see why Sheila would have been so enamored with this one.

  “Jessica,” he said in a strong Texas twang, offering his worn, rugged hand, “a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I replied, taking it firmly.

  Frank craned his head around and past me, looked down at the pool of motor oil forming around one of the wheels. “Car’s fucked,” he said, not even attempting to sugarcoat things.

  Richard glanced down, and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, but then looked to me. “But you’re safe, right? Cars can get fixed faster than people.”

  “Cheaper, too,” Frank agreed.

  I nodded, smiled, reassured a little. They were right. I might be stuck between a rock and a crazy biker gang, but at least I had my health.

  Richard set his eyes on me. “Safe house?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, not even having to consider it.

  “Good,” he replied, then addressed Frank. “Get a wrecker out here to pick up her car while I run her back to her place. I want to get her moved, and moved fast.”

  “Gotcha covered,” he said, nodding curtly. “I’ll get the cabin stocked full of fixings, too while you guys get her packed. Fresh meats, everything you’ll need for a few days. The whole nine yards.” He turned and headed back to his Mustang without saying another word, his phone already in hand.

  “Grab your purse,” Richard said to me, “and keys and whatever else you need. We go to your place, we get Eli, we get Wallach, we get everything else, then we drop off your dogs and head for our bolthole, okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure thing.”

  And, like that, I was headed for a secluded cabin in the woods.

  With Richard. For a few days.

  As I mechanically grabbed my belongings and piled into Richard’s Jeep, I realized that I was way less freaked out than I should be. Something about his presence just made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like everything was going to be alright, even if there were moments where they weren’t.

  One part of my brain was terrified by what was happening.

  The other part, though? It was just relieved that Richard was okay.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Richard

  I swept Jessica’s cabin when we got there while she dealt with getting Eli and Wallach out the back door so they could have a break. The place was clean, as far as I could tell, with no weird smells or sounds. But, I went ahead and ran through it again just to be certain.

  Guilt was gnawing away at me still for having gotten separated from her on the road. It was stupid for me to keep so much distance between my car and hers on the highway, and none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so idiotic. From here on out, I’d have to be more cautious.

  Aside from the guilt, though, my thoughts returned to her, and how Frank had caught us in our embrace on the side of the road. That, by itself, was almost as unconscionable as my letting her out of my sight on the road, and totally out of line on my part. What kind of example was I setting for Frank, my nominal subordinate, by getting so close and personal with Jessica? I was just grateful he hadn’t said anything to me, and secretly prayed he wouldn’t say anything to our boss, either.

  But, damn it had felt good to hold her in my arms like that. I’d have fought Big Bear Bo and all his buddies one after the other, or even as a group, for just another chance to feel her pressed against my body like on the side of the road. There was just something about the way she molded into me, something that felt magical and perfect as I’d felt her breath against my chest.

  Now, as I stood here next to the front door, peering out of the blinds and watching the road, I couldn’t get the smell of her off me. If I had my way, I’d never wash this shirt again just so I could keep her essence infused with the fabric’s fibers. I felt like a pup again, a pubescent teenage shifter who could hardly keep his emotions in check.

  “Almost done!” Jessica called from her bedroom. “How much clothes should I pack?”

  “Light,” I called. “Three or four days worth.”

  I grunted. What the hell was going on with me? I felt great just being close to her. I felt awful, too, at not having her be mine right then and there. For instance, when we’d been in the Jeep on the way to her cabin, I’d had to struggle to keep my hands off her, had to fight to keep them to myself. Just one little touch, my emotions screamed, just to see if she returns my affection.

  I shook my head again, watched as an old white pickup truck drove by, headed northbound. My threat acclimated brain tracked it as it drove, picturing a car bomb nestled inside, or a group of masked terrorists. Of course, nothing like that would happen with this. That was just my time in Afghanistan bleeding over into the present. But, still, it was good to keep situational awareness, to watch the comings and goings of traffic as it breezed past the little cabin on the side of the highway.

  “Almost ready?” I called into her bedroom.

  “Two minutes!” she called back.

  I nodded silently, turned my attention back to the front lawn. I did have one thing to say. Not only was Jessica beautiful, intelligent, and independent, she was also handling all this like a champ. Most people wouldn’t have been as stalwart or resilient given the same set of circumstances. She’d just been driven off the road and had her car practically totaled, and she was reacting exactly the way I needed her to. She had a goal, a purpose in mind, and she was working towards it, regardless of who was out to get her. Honestly, all of that just made me care for her more.

  As she bustled past, Eli and Wallach hot on her heels, she threw her backpack at my feet and swept into the kitchen.

  “What now?” I called, trying to unsuccessfully hide my irritat
ion. We needed to get away from here, and get up to the safe house. Any more delays were just going to put us at greater risk.

  “Just getting food and the leashes for the dogs,” she called unapologetically back.

  Jessica came back in from of the kitchen, leashes in one hand, bag of dry dog food in the other. “I dropped the cans in the bag with their food,” she said, shooting me a harried smile as she shoved the bag of dog food into my chest so I’d take it from her.

  “Ready?” I asked as I grabbed the bag.

  She scooped up her backpack and tossed it over her shoulder. “Ready,” she said, brushing some rogue strands of hair behind her ears. She turned to the dogs. “You guys ready?” she asked as she bent down and snapped their leashes onto their collar.

  Wallach barked once in acknowledgment, and Eli just wagged his tail. They clearly knew they were going somewhere, and I could tell from their body language they were both over the moon about smelling someplace new.

  Then, we were out the door. Jessica locked up behind us, both dogs tugging at their leashes, and we headed out to my Jeep.

  “You have clothes already?” she asked as I unlocked and opened up the back hatch. “Or is Frank going to bring you some?”

  “I always have a go-bag,” I explained as I took her backpack from her, our fingers brushing with a hint of electricity, a little pop.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “You feel that?” she asked with a little grin as I nestled her bag into the back of the Wrangler.

  My first thought had been that the shock was all in my head. I laughed, looked into her eyes as I straightened up. “Yeah,” I said. “A spark, huh? Wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it, or not.”

  She smiled back, a little shyly I thought, and glanced away, both dogs tugging at their leads. “We ready?”

  “Door should be unlocked,” I replied, heading around to the other side. “Pull the lever on the side of the chair and it’ll slide out so you can fit the dogs in back.”