He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you so insistent on this?”
She sighed. “I honestly do think this is the best course of action. Show the world that I’m happy and healthy and doing something completely normal, and whoever kicked up this media storm will slink back to where they came from.”
He leaned forward, intent on her. “And what if whoever is behind this media blitz is your stalker? What if it’s a way to draw you out?”
“That can’t be right. I mean, someone would have had to convince my father to—” She broke off as a thought popped into her head. “Percy,” she muttered.
“What?” Blake asked, a frown pulling at his brow as he tried to follow her line of thought.
“Percy. He knew at least one of the other women, had slept with her, and he would have had the influence to convince my father that I was in danger. My father likes him. Trusts him. For whatever goddamn reason.”
“You mentioned him before,” he mused.
“This is further proof that it could be him,” she told him. But could Percy really be a killer? The guy was a smarmy jerk, but could he really murder two women in cold blood? She wasn’t convinced.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Either way, we have to stop people looking for us. If this is stirred up by Percy—or whoever the stalker is—then they are using other people to do their dirty work for them. We have to put a stop to it.”
Blake let out a breath, and Sierra knew she had him. With a final nod from him, she opened up the browser, logged in, and started streaming live.
“Hi everyone! You may have heard some weird rumours about me on the news, and I wanted to assure everyone that they are completely unfounded. I’m fine,” she began, with a big smile. She pulled Blake into frame. “I’m just on a mini-break with my lovely boyfriend.” Blake flinched. Sierra managed not to roll her eyes. Messages were being posted on the stream, but she ignored them.
She took a breath to continue when something popped up in the bottom of the screen. A chat window. She kept talking as she tried to see who it was.
“I’m sorry if we frightened anyone, but I had a break in at my apartment the other day, and I decided I wanted to get out of town and get away from it all while someone fixed my place up. I told my father I was going, so I’m not sure why anyone thought I was anything other than fine.”
She tried to hold her grin as she saw that the chat window belonged to Grant. What the hell was he doing contacting her?
“Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know we’re both fine. Aren’t we, Blake?”
“Yup.” He chuckled and put his arm around her.
She glanced at him in surprise at how natural the gesture felt, not realising how close it would bring their faces. He was right there, inches from her. Their eyes caught and held and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw. His expression was soft. Happy. Not something she thought that she’d ever see from him. There was no way it was just an act.
She took a deep breath and managed to wrench herself away. But she felt changed, like the world had tilted slightly off its axis.
“I just wanted to check in,” she finished, feeling a little breathless. “I hope everyone is well.” She smiled wider, felt brighter as she disconnected the stream.
“See,” she told him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
He shrugged. “I guess not.”
He didn’t move his arm. She didn’t ask him to.
They waited there for a little while, watching the reaction to her stream. A number of the comments seemed to be about how cute they were as a couple. Sierra couldn’t help feeling a little smug at that.
They logged off from her personal site and watched as first social media, and then mainstream news picked up the story. She’d averted the crisis. Everyone was having a good laugh over the drama and how everything had been blown out of proportion. A few sites still stuck with the earlier story, citing the possibility of a greater conspiracy, but they were definitely in the minority.
“You did it,” Blake whispered, in awe.
She grinned at him. “I told you. It’s all about how you position yourself.”
“You’re a very impressive woman.”
The look on his face was so soft and appreciative that Sierra took the chance. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He kissed her back instantly, his arm tightening around her, drawing her closer. Their lips clung together, soft and sweet. Not the blazing passion of their last encounter but something deeper.
She ran her thumb against his stubble, feeling the rasp. His hand moved against her back in slow stroking movements.
It was a kiss for kiss’ sake. Not as foreplay, or with the assumption it might lead elsewhere. But the kind of kiss one could lose themselves in for hours. Intimate. Precious.
Sierra slid her hand down and put her hand up under his shirt, skin against skin. Blake flinched and pulled away from her, a confused frown tugging at his brow. “What was that for? I thought you were still mad.”
“I am. Sort of.” Sierra shrugged. “But I’ve been thinking and I can kind of see your logic.”
“Thank you,” Blake said gratefully. He eased back even further.
“However,” Sierra continued. “I still think you’re being an idiot.”
Blake reared back, affronted. “How so?”
“Well, as far as I can tell, you have two main arguments against us being together. One, is that it is unprofessional, given our protector/protectee relationship. The other is that you’d be distracted if you were in a relationship with your client. In other words, me. Right?”
He nodded slowly. “Right?” He drew the word out into a question.
“So, from my point of view, you’ve already broken through the ‘unprofessional’ issue, since there are no takebacks on sex. Therefore, you won’t be breaking any more rules by doing so again. And Duncan has already decided that you will be distracted by me whether we are sleeping together or not—which seems fairly accurate—so, we may as well keep sleeping together if it won’t make any difference to my protection.”
Blake stared at her, nonplussed. Sierra gave him a wide grin.
“That’s… some logic.”
Her smile grew even further. “I have more where that came from,” she replied.
He held up his hand. “Don’t.” He cleared his throat. “Please, don’t tempt me.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Blake sighed. “I’m already in Duncan’s bad books. I can’t piss him off even more. I’ve already lost the SEALs. I can’t lose this, too.” His eyes burned, the intensity impressing on her the importance of what he was telling her. “I was a mess after three weeks of bedrest. Can you imagine what I’d be like unemployed? Or, worse, at a desk job?” He shuddered, and she didn’t think it was entirely for show.
Sierra was silent for a long time as she studied him. She noted the hopeless pleading in his eyes, begging her to understand. “What are you running from?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and Sierra saw his capitulation as his shoulders slumped. “I’m not running, not really. I just find it difficult to relax. If I have too much down time, I start thinking, and that never ends well.”
It was a half-hearted joke but Sierra chuckled just the same. She then eyed him consideringly.
“What do you think about when life slows down?”
He spun an empty mug on the table, pondering. “About my past, mostly. My childhood. Even what I saw in The Teams.”
“So you try to block it out with constant activity and dangerous stunts?” she teased.
Blake laughed. “Don’t knock it if it works,” he replied.
Sierra brought the conversation back around to the point. “So I guess we can’t sleep together, huh? Even if it’s just sex?” She almost winced as the words popped out of her mouth. What was she thinking? Was she really willing to embark on that kind of intimacy with him again so soon, before she knew his agenda, hi
s thoughts and plans for the future?
It was clear that he was still dealing with some issues from his childhood. No doubt they had effected his relationships over the years.
Was she willing to trust that she was different, that he could overcome those issues for her, and that the two of them could make it work? It wasn’t something that tended to end well for women, the belief that they could change a man.
That kiss, though. That gave her hope.
It occurred to her that he hadn’t answered. She glanced up and was caught by the intense expression in his eyes.
“It could never be just sex with you.”
With that pronouncement, Blake stood and walked away, leaving Sierra wondering what, exactly, he’d meant.
Chapter 30
Blake had never been a broody kind of guy.
He was a man of action, far more likely to jump first and face the consequences later than mull over the possibilities. But here he was again, staring up into the darkness and thinking. Same shit, different ceiling.
This time, though, he wouldn’t let his thinking lead to the same mistakes it had the last time.
Not that he truly regretted what happened between him and Sierra that night. Now that he’d had time to think about it, anyway. That morning, when he’d awakened with her so soft and warm in his arms, he’d had a knee jerk reaction and panicked.
Now, though, he was slightly more rational about the situation.
Of all the dodgy shit he’d done on assignment, sleeping with a client was pretty low on the list. And, besides, she wasn’t a normal client. She was a friend of his boss. Mandy obviously wasn’t upset, since he wasn’t out on his ass.
And Duncan, well. Blake knew that despite his ‘grumpy cave man’ exterior, Duncan was a softy at heart. Blake had no doubt he could charm himself out of this scrape like he had all the others. After the bad guy was caught and locked away, of course.
At least, he hoped so. He knew one day there would be a straw that would break Duncan’s back. Maybe this would be it.
Once all of this was over, he hoped he would still have his job, and Sierra. He liked her, a lot. She was clever and ballsy and generous. And their sex had been off the charts spectacular.
Perhaps he could find a way to keep both.
Frustrated with his circular thinking, Blake sat up and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he could find a book or something to distract him.
Something moved outside the window, and Blake could’ve sworn it was a pale face against a background of darkness.
He jumped into action immediately. He couldn’t wait for proof; he needed to get Sierra safe just in case. Keeping low, he made his way across the living room, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor. On his way, he passed his bag, and snagged one of the Winkler Knives II that were stashed there. The favourite knife of SEALs. His Glock, he tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants.
He made it to Sierra’s room without incident, and slowly eased the door open. It creaked, loud in the quiet night.
A gasp came from the bed, and he realised what it must have looked like to Sierra—a large man sneaking into her room at night.
“It’s just me,” he whispered. “Stay down.”
The watery moonlight from the window allowed him enough light to see her dark shape, still prone in the bed. Good girl. He crept over to her, kneeling by her bedside. He cupped her cheek, just briefly, stroking her hair back from her face. Then, he leaned down and put his lips against her ear.
“I’m going to need you to get ready to run,” he murmured on a breath. “I think there is someone outside.”
She made a small whimper of distress, but nodded vigorously.
He waited while she slowly peeled back the covers and slid out of the bed, kneeling beside him.
“How did he find us?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him after I find him.” Something dark and ugly bubbled up in Blake. Something he recognised from his past. The sick desire to hurt another human being, to revel in their pain and distress. He swallowed it down as best he could, eyes on Sierra. That was not the man he was or wanted to be.
Sierra looked up at him with her eyes wide with distress and determination, waiting for his signal. He anchored himself in her eyes for just a moment, absorbing her. He was about to confront a serial killer with few weapons and a weak shoulder. He still thought the odds were in his favour—he was a SEAL, after all—but he believed in ‘just in case’s.
He kissed her then, firm and quick. Their lips clung for barely a moment before he pulled away. A last kiss.
They had no time to waste. Blake took Sierra’s hand in his and led her out of the room, keeping low. He paused when he reached the living room, ears straining for any sound beyond their breathing. Nothing. No line of sight on him, either.
He’d have to guess the man’s next move, then.
The cabin had two doors and three windows to choose from. If the man was untrained—which he undoubtedly was—then his instinct would tell him to enter at the back of the house. If true, that left one door and two windows. The door would open onto the kitchen, the windows onto the kitchen and Sierra’s bedroom respectively.
Blake had locked all the windows and doors, and they were surprisingly solid. The only thing he couldn’t reinforce was the—
Glass, shattering in the bedroom.
Blake grabbed Sierra and sprinted for the front door, the furthest one from the bedroom. He wrenched the door open, too quickly. His shoulder protested at the jerky movement. But he couldn’t stop. He dragged Sierra out the door, glancing at the car in the drive—blocked by the stalker’s nondescript white sedan. Instead, Blake headed straight for the trees at the side of the house.
Silvery moonlight from directly overhead lit the space, making them sitting ducks.
He pushed Sierra ahead of him, placing himself between her and where he imagined the stalker was. They were just about to reach the darkness and relative safety of the trees when Blake heard a thundering crack and felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. His good shoulder.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, but pushed Sierra forward into the forest. His eyes quickly adjusted to the muted light.
Sierra stumbled, turning back towards him.
“No,” he gasped. “Keep running. I’ll meet you there.” He wouldn’t have to explain that he meant the ridge that he’d taken her to—was it only that morning?—since it was the only landmark she knew. They were in amongst the trees, now, still moving but at a slower pace. The shooter couldn’t see them to take another shot. It was the perfect time to escape. But, still, she hesitated.
“What about you? You’re bleeding.” She reached out to him, her eyes on his wound where it was visible through his torn t-shirt.
He knocked her hands away. “I’ll take him down and come find you,” Blake told her. He leaned forward, catching her eye. “After I know you’re safe.”
Her eyes were pleading as she looked at him one last time. He held firm. It was the only way to keep her safe. Met with his stony silence, Sierra turned and fled into the darkness.
Blake breathed a sigh of relief.
He closed his eyes for just a moment, orienting and centring himself. He felt the rough bark at his back, the rich earth beneath his bare feet, the cool evening breeze. He even allowed himself to feel the pain from the gunshot, allowing himself to become used to it so it could become second nature.
Then, his eyes snapped open. He was coming.
Blake tugged out his knife and adjusted his grip on the handle. He listened for the man’s steps. Loud. Fucking amateur.
He was going a steady pace, not hurrying, but not taking his time, either. He was either confident or stupid. Maybe both. Blake waited for just the right moment, when the guy was in position, before he revealed himself, melting out of the shadows.
He slashed at the man, catching his long-sleeved black t-shirt with the blade. The fabric tore, revealing pale white skin with an angry red
line across it. First blood to Blake.
The man had covered his face since Blake had seen him at the window, again wearing that strange mask with the mesh across the eyes that they’d seen on him last time.
Blake lunged again, a fraction slower than he normally would be. The man managed to dodge—quicker than Blake expected—and brought his gun up. Blake knocked it aside and again went for a stab. This time he caught the man’s side.
He was working one handed, defending and attacking with the same arm. He had to be twice as fast, and twice as strong. But the bullet wound was already making his head buzz.
Now in close quarters, the attacker’s gun was pretty much useless. Blake had the upper hand. Their feet moved across the uneven forest floor as they circled each other.
The man tried to pistol-whip Blake with the gun, but Blake stopped his arm just before contact. Both Blake’s shoulders ached fiercely. He barely had the strength to push away the man’s arm. He must be losing more blood than he thought.
The gun went flying into the darkness. Blake didn’t allow himself to be distracted and see where it landed. Blake punched his opponent in the nose.
The man tripped back, managing to stay on his feet. Blake slashed forward, trying to take advantage. But the asshole had only feinted, now using the opportunity to punch Blake directly in his wound, using his own weight and speed against him.
Pain lanced through him. He staggered, and fell to one knee. He took a few deep breaths, supressing the agony.
By the time he looked up, his opponent was gone.
Blake could hear him just up ahead, moving at quite a clip in the direction Sierra had disappeared. He levered himself to standing, then staggered after him. A few steps, and he pushed himself into a jog. His breath sawed through his lungs, slowing him down. His fitness still hadn’t recovered from his time in the hospital, and his lack of sleep, new gunshot, and overexertion were not helping matters.
But he had to get to Sierra. He couldn’t lose her now.
Chapter 31
Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2) Page 16
