Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2)

by Aislinn Kearns

  Sierra knew as he said it that he had no intention of calling. Men had a tendency to avoid admitting they needed help if they could get away with it, but she resolved to give him the number anyway.

  The tension between them in the car simmered on a low heat. Both were aware of each other. Sierra caught him snatching glances at her out of the corner of his eye, and she certainly couldn’t ignore his larger than life presence. But they had obviously entered into an unspoken agreement never to mention what hadn’t actually happened the night before. That suited her just fine.

  They pulled into her usual spot. Despite Blake’s obvious weariness, he had a certain spring to his step that Sierra took to mean that he’d either had a good night, or was looking forward to the day ahead. Given his day would consist of sitting in her office and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Sierra suspected that it might be the former that gave him his energy today.

  Sierra was surprised by the spurt of jealousy she felt at the idea of how he might have injured his shoulder the night before. Given Blake’s flirtatious personality, his hungover and sleepy look, his sore shoulder, and the quick grin on his face, Sierra thought she knew exactly what he’d been doing last night. And she was annoyed at herself for caring.

  To give herself credit, he was handsome, and they’d had an almost-moment last night. If he’d wanted some action, he could have at least had the curtesy to make a move on her.

  Not that she would have taken him up on it.

  Sierra frowned at herself. This was why she didn’t dally with players. She didn’t like what it turned her into.

  He’d brought a laptop with him, sparking a curiosity in her that she refused to satisfy by asking him about it.

  Unfortunately, they ran into Percy and Grant as the stepped out of the elevators, both men seemed primed for a disagreement. She didn’t ask them what they were doing at the office so early. It was rare, but not unheard of, for them to take early meetings if their clients were too busy and had to stop by before their work day began.

  They manoeuvred themselves into Sierra’s path.

  “Sierra,” Grant began as she tried to move past. “I thought bring your boyfriend to work day was yesterday?”

  Percy was next. “Is he really your new assistant? Or is he serving your other needs while you two are locked away in your office all day?”

  She felt Blake stiffen at her back.

  “Percy,” she retorted. “I’m not the one banging assistants in the supply closet during working hours. That’s you, remember?”

  The look on Percy’s face was ugly, proving to her yet again that he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it. He’d been reprimanded for exactly that last year, but it hadn’t stopped him. His behaviour was now an open secret in the office, but still didn’t act as a deterrent. Worse, in Sierra’s mind, was that it was a different woman every time and each thought that they were the one, the only, and the last.

  Each time a new girl arrived, and before she’d been warned away from him, Percy somehow managed to charm a high percentage of them into performing sexual favours for him. There was obviously a high turnover rate on those positions, because once they found out that he’d lied and coerced them, they often left in disgust.

  Sierra gave most of them glowing references to ease them on their way.

  Percy sputtered for a comeback and found none. Grant stepped in to save him.

  His voice was smooth but his eyes were hard. “Sierra, my dear, when we eventually go on that date, you won’t be able to bring your stalker with you, I’m afraid.” He smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. Sierra got the distinct impression of a snake in the grass.

  “Grant, you truly are pathetic if you need to keep pursuing a woman that has repeatedly informed you that she will never go out with you. Let it go. It’s not funny anymore.”

  “Au contraire. I just love the chase.” His too-white teeth gleamed.

  Supressing a shudder, Sierra slid around the two men. She tried not to run back to her office, but the creeping tingle in her spine urged her to flee. When she was safely ensconced in her sanctuary with the door closed, she let out a breath of relief.

  “Those guys are assholes,” Blake commented blandly.

  “Yes, they are,” she replied, anger replacing the discomfort she always felt around them.

  “So, why don’t you do something about it?”

  “Like what? In case you didn’t notice, it’s their names on the door.”

  “And your father won’t help you?” Disbelief echoed in his eyes and voice.

  “Considering that he made them partner instead of me? No. When I told him that Grant kept asking me out, my father said he admired the man’s persistence. He even suggested that I accept.” She sighed. “Believe it or not, clients like Percy and Grant. Then again, many of our clients are just as smarmy as they are, so perhaps it makes sense.”

  “Christ. There’s no one you can complain to?”

  She shook her head. “Even if the situation were different and there was someone higher than them on the hierarchy, I doubt complaining would help. Studies have shown that women who speak up about sexual harassment in workplaces get it much worse in return. My only option would be to quit my job to get away from them. And I can’t do that.”

  Blake frowned. “Why not? You’re clearly underappreciated here.”

  Sierra didn’t let her pleasure at the compliment show. “A number of reasons. One, I don’t want them to win. Two, it would mean there would be no senior women to protect the other women on the staff. I want to be a refuge for women who need it, and a mentor. And three, it would deeply offend my father.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “All those reasons you are doing for someone else. When are you going to do something for you?”

  Sierra blinked, shocked. She hadn’t, until he’d said those words, considered that her motivations were not so much about what she wanted, but what she was doing for others. It was a sobering thought.

  “I’ll ponder that,” she told him, her usual statement for when she needed to digest something further. “So, I should get to work. Do you have something to keep you occupied?” she asked politely.

  He nodded. “I do have some work to do. However, I do need to ask you some questions and get your input on some things. Can we do lunch together, so that I don’t interrupt your work?”

  She swallowed, strangely happy that he’d asked. “Sure. I know a little place locally.”

  Chapter 14

  Clients. She had to find more clients.

  The mantra was Mandy’s constant companion. Perhaps if Duncan didn’t insist on hiring new staff without waiting for a demand for them, the thought wouldn’t feel so urgent. Three new hires in the last month alone. Three new—generous—salaries. But despite her pleading, she couldn’t stop him. He considered himself their saviour, and no amount of common sense could convince him to wait before putting more injured veterans on the payroll.

  New toys, too. The staff would convince him to buy all the new, expensive, most high-end equipment as soon as it got released. Usually it would get used once before being abandoned.

  The company was running paycheck to paycheck, which was not a smart way to run a business. And yet Duncan ignored her warnings. Probably just out of spite. But Mandy was running out of ways to bring in new clients. High-paying clients, which was far more important.

  Perhaps she should do a viral campaign. She’d put Blake on camera, but he was both tied up on Sierra’s case, and injured. Though, the injury could be used. Getting shot protecting someone was a great story. Surely Blake of all people wouldn’t mind going on camera to play up his heroism?

  Mandy jotted down a note to draft a campaign.

  Gladys, their receptionist and secretary, buzzed her.

  “Yes?” Mandy answered.

  “A Beaton Security requesting an urgent appointment with you?”

  Beaton Security. Their largest competitor. Surely it could only mean good things if
they were taking an interest in Soldiering On?

  “Send them in.”

  When she’d done the initial market research in the planning stages of Soldiering On’s inception, Beaton Security had been by far the largest company they would have to compete with. Beyond that, they proved quite mysterious. She wasn’t entirely sure who ran the company, who their clients were, or how many employees they had. Why they were visiting her now, she couldn’t imagine.

  The door opened. Mandy was ready with a welcoming smile.

  Two people walked in. One, a smartly dressed man in his forties, with dark hair and bronze skin. The other, a woman, made Mandy—for whom fashion was a weapon she wielded deftly—feel positively dowdy. She wore a formfitting navy blue dress with beige panels on the side, falling just below her knees. Matching beige pointed-toe stilettos hugged her feet. She was the epitome of icy sex appeal and class.

  Mandy felt immediately on her guard for no discernible reason. Was she experiencing some internal bias because the woman dressed better than her? Or were the cold looks on their faces more than her imagination?

  “Hello,” she said, standing as they made their way to the lime-green chairs that sat opposite her. She made sure to keep her polite mask firmly in place. No curiosity or hints of being intimidated would shine through. Cautiously feeling her way through this encounter would be the smart play.

  They both replied with nods and clipped greetings. So the ice rolling off them in waves was not just in her head. Good to know. Still, that could just be their personality. No reason to presume it was hostility.

  The two sat in the chairs she had indicated. In unison, they pulled out business cards and slid them onto her desk. Mandy took two of her own out of their holder and gave them in exchange. She set their cards aside without looking at them. The familiar routine put her at ease.

  The man sprawled out, making himself comfortable and looking disinterested in the proceedings. The woman perched on the edge of the seat, her back ramrod straight.

  Mandy decided to take control. “I’m Mandy Lennox. What can I do for you today?”

  “We know who you are,” the woman replied. Okay then.

  The man stirred. “I’m Danny Garcia,” he said. “And this is Erica Daintree.” He eyed Erica, both admonishing and deferential. Waiting for her to make the next move.

  “We own Beaton Security, along with a third partner,” Erica told her. Mandy itched to make notes, write down what she was learning about the competition, but instead focused on what Erica was saying. It was not a time to be distracted.

  “I see,” she said instead.

  “Have you heard of us?” Erica asked. She raised a single eyebrow while waiting for Mandy to answer.

  “Of course.” Mandy inclined her head. She waited, didn’t elaborate.

  “Good,” Erica replied eventually. “That will make this easier.”

  Mandy didn’t reveal the curiosity burning its path through her by deigning to ask the obvious question. Instead, she stayed silent.

  It was Danny that spoke. “Last night, we were robbed.”

  Of all the things she might have expected them to say, that hadn’t been it. “I’m sorry,” she told them automatically. “Was it serious?”

  The two shared a glance. Shifted. Looked back at her. It was the first time they had betrayed a hint of discomfort. “We don’t know,” Erica said eventually.

  She had to find more clients. The mantra popped into her head. Clearing her throat, Mandy asked, “Would you like us to investigate for you?”

  Laughter burst from Erica’s lips, sharp and mocking. Derogatory amusement lit her eyes as she silenced herself, looking back across the desk. Mandy realised she was being laughed at and it was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

  She straightened her shoulders. “Then how can I help?” she asked, her smile only a little insincere.

  “You can explain why a car registered to your company was seen parked around the corner of our building at the same time the robbery took place.”

  All the air whooshed out of Mandy. Sweat beaded at the back of her neck. She swallowed.

  Fucking. Duncan.

  “I’m sure, if that were true, it would just be an unfortunate coincidence,” she gritted out. “Can I ask how you got this information?”

  Erica gave her a condescending smile. “We don’t just have access to the cameras in our building. There are plenty of street cameras in our area that hold a wealth of evidence.”

  “I see,” Mandy murmured. And she did. She had no doubt that Duncan had got them into this mess somehow. And it would be up to her to get them out of it.

  Mandy took a deep breath. “And do you have any footage of the person that broke into your offices?”

  Please say no.

  “There is the shadow of a large man near the car,” Erica replied. The woman’s fingers tapped restlessly against her leg. Just once, but it was enough for Mandy to realise why she wasn’t complete composed.

  “You have no footage of the crime itself,” she said, a statement not a question. “And you don’t have an actual visual on the person near the car.” She tried to supress her grin.

  A pause. “Whoever committed this crime covered their tracks well.”

  “I see. It sounds like it will be a challenging investigation for you, with no proof that any crime actually occurred.”

  Danny shifted in his seat. “There is proof that a crime occurred.”

  Mandy, again, stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

  Erica leaned forward, drawing Mandy’s eye. “We just want to know what you took and why.” Her voice was a low hiss, filled with menace. A shiver ran down Mandy’s spine.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Mandy murmured. “As far as I’m aware, none of our people did or—even would—rob you.” Not strictly a lie. She could guess it was true. But she had no first-hand knowledge of the crime.

  Erica narrowed her eyes. Mandy smiled pleasantly. “Was there anything else?”

  “We know this was you,” Erica replied. It sounded like an increasingly desperate mantra.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” Again, not strictly a lie. Mandy herself hadn’t participated in whatever had occurred.

  “Your car was parked out front, and whoever infiltrated our building was talented enough with security to bypass all our protocols. It had to be you.”

  “I’m flattered.” She stood. Danny hesitated a moment before standing also. Erica took even longer before reluctantly getting to her feet.

  Mandy walked around her desk and opened the door. She could tell neither of them wanted to leave, but she just stood, waiting. There was no polite way for them to refuse.

  Erica was the first to move towards her. Strides long, it only took a few steps before they were level. “I know it was you,” Erica said in an undertone. “And I will prove it.”

  She strode out, Danny following a few paces behind.

  Mandy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her exhale wobbled, along with her knees.

  Then, she went to find Duncan.

  Chapter 15

  Duncan Pierce was, and would continue to be, the bane of Mandy’s existence.

  When she finally found him downstairs in the equipment room, she’d built herself up to a righteous rage. How. Fucking. Dare. He.

  But as she strode into the equipment room, she was momentarily distracted by the crates stacked against the walls and the partially constructed guns littering the stainless-steel table in the centre of the room. She’d been in the business long enough to recognise the parts of assault rifles, AK-47s, and was that a missile launcher?

  Duncan and Paul both sat at the table, looking up when she entered with guilty expressions on their faces.

  “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

  “This is the new equipment we ordered,” Duncan told her, immediately defensive. He clicked some pieces together.

  “Why is it in bits?”

 
It was Paul that replied. “It has to come that way so that it doesn’t come with serial numbers.”

  “These are illegal?” Mandy’s voice was rising with every word but she was powerless to stop it.

  Duncan shook his head. “Nope, totally legal. All you need to do is order the parts, make the receiver, and then put it together, and you’ve got a gun outside of law enforcement’s purview.”

  “That’s why we needed the Ghost Gunner we ordered recently. The expenditure you questioned at the finance meeting,” Paul added helpfully, pointing to a black box in the corner with a clear glass panel on the front. “It’s like a 3D printer for the receiver. We could do it all by hand, but this is easier.”

  Mandy stared stupidly. “You make all your own guns?” Her voice was faint.

  “Just the receiver,” Duncan grunted. “Only way to build an arsenal.” He didn’t look at her as he assembled a weapon with the speed of the bullet it would one day fire.

  Jesus, the man was insane. “We don’t need an arsenal.”

  Duncan shrugged. “We might.” He clicked the last piece into place and handed it to Paul, who put it on his lap to spin his wheelchair around and make his way over to an empty gun rack on the wall behind him.

  It was almost as if Duncan was determined to cause her grief. It was then that Mandy remembered the reason she’d come down here in the first place. She swung from flabbergasted back to angry in the second it took Duncan to pick up one of the other pieces in front of him.

  “We need to talk,” she told him.

  He made a noise, noncommittal. “So, talk.”

  “You really want to have it here?”

  He froze. “Oh, it’s one of those.”

  “Yes. It is.” Frustration seethed within her, just beneath the surface. Ready to unleash at any time.

  Duncan pushed his chair back. Stood. Dragged his feet as he made his way over to her. Mandy barely resisted rolling her eyes.

  Mandy led him into the computer server room next door so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. She shivered as the air conditioning hit her, on high to protect the servers from meltdown.