As he stepped away, something on the beach below caught his eye.
It couldn’t be . . . It was.
A body.
A blonde.
Lying on the shore.
Something about the woman’s build, her hair, her clothes, drove his thoughts to only one person: Mallory. Was it Mallory?
CHAPTER 4
Tennyson dashed down the stairs. As he did, he pulled out his cell phone and called 911. He tried to control his racing thoughts.
“What’s your emergency?”
“This is Tennyson Walker, five-one-three Sunset Way in Cape Thomas. There’s a body on the shore outside of my property. You need to send the police and an ambulance. Now.”
“I’ll send someone out now—”
The operator started to ask more questions, but Tennyson put the phone back in his pocket. He reached the wet shoreline, ignoring the putrid scent saturating the sand, and rushed toward the body. Gently, he turned the woman over.
The face came into view.
It wasn’t Mallory.
He released his breath. His relief was short-lived, though. It might not be Mallory, but someone had died.
He put a hand to her neck, already knowing the woman was dead but needing to confirm it.
There was nothing there. No heartbeat. No rise and fall of her chest. Nothing.
He dialed Wheaton’s number as he looked for any other evidence of what had happened. He studied her skin for any visible cuts or bruises. He saw none.
How had she died? Had she drowned?
As he looked the woman over, compassion welled in him. The body hadn’t begun decaying yet, so he guessed she hadn’t been dead long.
As he turned her back to her side, part of her shirt slipped off her shoulder.
A circle with a flame in the center stared back at him.
He pressed his eyes closed. That was Torres’s symbol. He branded his women with it, as if they were worth no more than cattle.
Anger burned through him.
“What’s going on?” Wheaton answered. “No birthday song?”
Tennyson shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder, wishing he had a happier greeting for his friend. “A body washed up on the beach outside of my house.”
“A body?” Wheaton’s voice lost its lightheartedness.
“She’s been branded by Inferno. I already called the cops. They’re on their way.”
“Unbelievable,” Wheaton muttered. Silence stretched a moment. “This has to be connected with Mallory’s appearance in town. If someone really is after her, maybe they left this body as a way of sending a message.”
“I feel like they’re sending me a message, not her.”
“Maybe they are.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“You helped disband a major terrorist network. You played a pivotal role in Torres’s death. Maybe that’s why. Maybe someone left that body there purposely, knowing you’d find it.”
“Or maybe someone was hoping that word would get back to Mallory about this. Maybe this is one more way of threatening her.”
“Whoever did this had to know that word would get back to her,” Wheaton said. “With her connection to Torres, there’s no way it wouldn’t. Maybe you should reconsider that offer to run security for Mallory.”
The sparks that had started earlier inside him grew stronger, brighter, more powerful. Torres—whether dead or alive—was still spreading his influence, still flexing his muscles. Tennyson couldn’t stomach the thought of it. Inferno should have withered.
But someone was determined to keep Torres’s legacy alive.
That was unacceptable.
Tennyson stared down at the body again, and his thoughts slammed back to Mallory. If someone wasn’t watching out for her, she could be the next one who met this fate. Could he really live with himself if he let that happen?
Someone was playing a game, and they wanted to use Tennyson as a pawn. If there was one thing Tennyson hated it was being used.
But, against his better instincts, he knew Grant Donovan’s job offer was one he couldn’t refuse. Not when Mallory’s life was on the line.
Just as Tennyson reached Virginia Beach, the dark clouds overhead consumed both the sky and the air. Based on the size and color of the mass, this storm would be a doozy. He just hoped he could get to the hotel before the sky broke open and unleashed its torrent of emotion.
By the time he arrived in downtown Norfolk, the wind had picked up, and a light spattering of rain had started. He parked, knowing one of the guys from Trident would pick up the vehicle later, and hurried into the hotel lobby. As the automatic doors closed behind him, thunder rumbled outside.
He paused in the entryway and spotted Grant Donovan. The man strode across the room and met him. “Tennyson, I’m glad to see you made it here okay, especially with this storm bearing down on us.”
“Yes, I made it inside just before the sky broke.”
“Excellent. Come on over this way. Mallory and I just arrived. You caught us just in time.”
“Before we meet Mallory, there are a couple of things I’d like to discuss with you.” Tennyson stopped, refusing to go any farther until Grant looked him in the eye, and they had a mutual understanding.
“Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“I just want to confirm what we talked about on the phone. I’ll take this job, but I want to help investigate these threats, not just be a bodyguard.”
Grant nodded. “We can arrange that. In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”
“I’d also like to bring someone else on to help with security.”
Grant squinted. “What do you mean?”
“If I’m helping with the investigation, that means I won’t be able to keep an eye on Mallory at all times. I’ll need someone else.”
“Who do you propose?”
“There’s someone I worked with. I think she would be excellent.”
“She?”
Tennyson nodded, his gaze flickering over to where Mallory was standing against the wall. No one else was near. Still, he didn’t like seeing her alone. He scanned the lobby but saw no one suspicious.
“Her name is Kori Burns. She’s a former police officer. Top of the line. I mentioned it to her that I could have a job lead, and she said she’s available to start in two days.”
“Will you be okay for two days without her? You seem to think it’s important that she’s here.”
“As long as I have a clear picture of what’s on the schedule, where we’re going, and I can review the routes we’ll be traveling, we should be fine. The threat is minimal right now, but definitely something that I want to be taken seriously.”
“You know we have a limited budget for this tour, right?”
“I’m not concerned with money. As long as I have a place to sleep and food to eat, I’ll be okay. You can give my salary to Kori.”
Something flickered in Grant’s eyes . . . approval. He nodded. “Very well then.”
Tennyson lowered his voice. “Did you tell Mallory about Torres yet?”
Grant shook his head. “I thought we could tell her together. For the record, she’s opposed right now to the idea of having a bodyguard. She thinks it’s unnecessary.”
“We’ll talk to her together tonight.”
“Let’s do that. Let’s not keep her waiting any longer.”
As Tennyson walked toward his client, he took a moment to study her. Her wavy hair was pulled back into a twist. She wore snug jeans and a tailored, red jacket that looked professional yet youthful. She exuded confidence and vibrancy, which only made him admire her more. The image was quite the change from the brokenness she’d personified when he’d found her in Torres’s compound.
As he got closer, he noticed the gray circles beneath her baby blues. The tiny lines around the edges. The way her eyelids occasionally drooped.
She was tired.
But when she spotted him, she smiled and the grayn
ess, the lines, and the droopiness disappeared. For a moment, at least.
“Mallory, you remember Tennyson, right?” Grant said with a glimmering smile.
“Of course.” Mallory nodded at him, but her actions seemed almost sluggish. Reserved? Maybe. Road weary? Quite possibly.
In an instant, Tennyson wished he could wipe away some of the burden from her gaze. That he could somehow make her load a little lighter. That he’d be able to see her smile more.
But what he really wished was that he could undo her year as Torres’s captive.
Another clap of thunder sounded overhead, and the hotel walls rumbled along with it. Lightning followed, then a gust of wind that pushed a smattering of debris against the building’s windows and doors.
“This storm is going to be a monster. Mallory, why don’t you show Tennyson up to the suite? I’ve got to speak with the manager about the bill, but I’ll be right there.”
“Sure thing.”
Tennyson walked with her toward the elevator, uncertain what to say. He’d never been suave or had a way with words—nor did he even care about being those things. He only wished he could put Mallory more at ease right now.
“I’m glad you made it here okay,” Mallory finally said. The clack of her shoes sounded twice for every one of his paces.
“It was a nice drive over the Bay Bridge Tunnel.” He hated how mundane the conversation seemed, but maybe they were both hesitant to talk about the huge issue they had in common: the fact that Dante Torres had stolen something from both of them. Besides, it wasn’t a conversation for an elevator.
The raid had pulled them together, and they had a connection that very few people would understand. Grant had been clever to bring them together now. Certainly he realized that Mallory would probably warm up to him faster than most.
“That stretch of road terrifies me,” Mallory said. “The entire time I’m on it, I rehearse about what I would do if I went off the side of the bridge and into the bay. It’s neurotic, I know.”
He smiled at her chatter. “I think a lot of people do that.”
They stopped by the elevators and waited for the doors to open. Black marble walls made the place look expensive but dark. Instrumental music played overhead. The smell of lemon-scented cleaner hung in the air.
The elevator doors finally dinged open. Tennyson took a step with her inside when two businessmen chatting about the stock market hurried in front of them, oblivious.
Mallory froze, one foot halfway into the car. Her face paled.
As the doors started to close, Tennyson tried to nudge her forward. Mallory’s feet seemed to have taken root, though.
“Mallory?”
She nodded toward the two men, who suddenly noticed them. “You go ahead.”
The elevator doors squeezed shut. Tennyson could guess what had caused her reaction, but he didn’t want to make assumptions.
Her gaze—now listless—darted up to him, and her jaw looked clenched. “I never get in the elevator with strangers,” she explained. “I can’t. It’s a trigger, and it causes me to panic.”
“That’s understandable.”
She pressed her lips together, as if trying to choose her words wisely. “I’m sorry if I made a scene.”
“Don’t apologize. Will you be okay being inside an elevator with just me?” Because I’ll never let anything happen to you. Ever. He kept that quiet, though. No need to further scare her with that declaration.
She rubbed her shoulder—at the location where Torres most likely branded her.
“Yes, I’m okay with it,” Mallory said. “Only because I know you’re one of the good guys.”
Warmth filled his chest, but it quickly cooled. There was so much she didn’t know about him.
Another elevator dinged to a stop. They slipped inside, and he hit the close door button before anyone could share the space.
He stood at the back of the elevator, his hands at his side, as they started up toward the fifth floor. He was all too aware of Mallory standing beside him. Though she didn’t move or fidget, waves of anxiety poured from her like heat coming from asphalt on a summer day.
“I really think having a bodyguard is unnecessary.” She clasped her hands in front of her, her wide eyes accentuating her high cheekbones. “Just for the record.”
“It’s only a safety precaution. Just for the record.” He flashed a reassuring smile even though remorse pounded inside him. Soon enough, he’d tell her the truth. Part of her world would crash down when he did. He hated to think about it. But she deserved to know.
“I heard about the body.” Her quiet voice broke the stillness.
He nodded, trying not to show how worried he really was. “I suppose the FBI talked to you?”
“They did. It’s been . . . unsettling, to say the least.” She smoothed a hair back as if it was wayward. It wasn’t.
Silence passed for a moment.
“I didn’t know her,” Mallory finally said.
“I didn’t think you did.”
“She was found outside your house?”
He swallowed hard. “That’s right. I’m unsure why, at this point. But I know the FBI is working diligently to find some answers.”
Just then, the lights blipped.
The elevator grunted.
Lurched.
Stopped.
He glanced at Mallory in time to see the color drain from her face.
Then everything went black.
“Mallory, can you hear me?”
The elevator stopped spiraling. She closed her eyes, trying to grasp reality and pull herself out of her panic. She forced air into her lungs. Tried to remember everything her therapist had told her.
Acknowledge and accept the fact that you’re panicking. Watch and wait, remembering that this moment will pass. Breathe deeply and concentrate on doing so, knowing it will distract you from overwhelming thoughts. Repeat.
Someone had spoken.
She tried to talk but nothing came out. Speak, Mallory. Move your mouth. Force air across your vocal cords.
“Mallory?”
That’s right. Tennyson is here. He’s a good guy.
His deep, calm voice pulled her back to reality.
“I’m here.” Her words sounded so shrill that she could hardly understand them herself.
“It’s okay. It’s just you and me in here. The power must have gone out.”
A power outage. That was right. The storm raged outside.
That fact made her feel only a little better. Fear still charged through her like a runaway train.
“Mallory?” Tennyson repeated, his voice soft and prodding.
“Yes?” Now her voice sounded mouselike, but she couldn’t alter it.
“I’m reaching out my hand toward you. If you’d like to hold on to something—to someone—I’m here. It’s okay if you don’t, though. It’s your choice.”
His words washed over her. His hand. She could hold it. Find an anchor in him.
Was that what she wanted? Or would touching him turn her stomach in revulsion?
She wasn’t sure.
At that moment, the elevator jerked. The lights blinked before going dark again.
She started to reach for him but stopped. That was one area she hadn’t mastered yet. Intimacy. Touch. Human contact.
Instead, she wrapped her arms over her chest and squeezed.
“It’s going to be okay,” Tennyson murmured.
Her mind flashed back in time. That’s what he’d said when he rescued her. He’d promised her everything would be okay. And then he’d swept her away from that year of her life and into safety.
She knew better than to have a crush on him. Honestly, she couldn’t see herself having a crush on anyone again. Ever. It didn’t matter what her therapist told her. But, against her better judgment, she had Tennyson up on a pedestal as the bigger-than-life hero who’d rescued her. As someone who could do no wrong. As a literal knight in shining armor.
�
��I used to hate the dark,” Tennyson said.
Mallory’s thoughts shifted. “Did you?”
“That’s right. All the way up through middle school. I was a late bloomer, as my mom said. So when the lights went out in the school locker room once, some of my classmates decided to shove me in a locker.”
She tried to picture someone doing that to the strong and capable Tennyson Walker. She couldn’t. In her mind, he seemed undefeatable. “That sounds horrible.”
“I was frozen with fear. I’ll never forget it. Finally, one of the PE teachers found me. The boys who did it got a slap on the wrist.”
“They deserved more.”
“Of course they did. But they were the star athletes. Even in middle school, it made a difference.”
Unfair. That was life sometimes. A lot of times. And that fact made her burn inside. “I’m sorry. How did you get over your fear?”
“I remembered that if Christ could conquer death, I could conquer anything in my life as well. We’ve only got one chance to make the most of each day, right? So whenever I got scared, I remembered that fear was robbing me of the joy of the moment. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? But it really did help.”
“Sometimes changing our mind-set is the only thing we have control over.” She cleared her throat, wishing her voice would return to normal. “That’s what my therapist tells me, at least.”
“There’s some wisdom in that. I’ve found over time that the darkness is really pretty fascinating.”
“Why’s that?” She couldn’t imagine.
“Darkness can blind you. But one flicker of light drives away the night and changes everything. The smallest flame can help us see what we couldn’t see before.”
Just at that moment, she realized how very close she was standing to him. Close enough to feel his warmth. To smell his woodsy cologne.
Self-consciously, she stepped back and tried to get a grip on her emotions. “I’m sorry.”
He softened his voice. “I’ve been through SEAL training. I think I can handle a dark elevator.”
She tried to shift her thoughts from her fears. Her therapist’s voice echoed through her mind. You must have focus in order to overcome. You can control your thoughts. Your emotions. Or you can let them control you.
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