Just after I hit send the airport gets buzzed by a group of fighter jets. Damn. I wasn’t ready for that. I saw the blue color, or the blur that was blue at least, and figure it must be the Blue Angels. Damn, they were loud and that was a low fly-by.
A second later I hear the phone pick up. “All set?” he says.
“All done. Looking for the eagle to land and still staring at the egg,” I say referring to the round zero in my bank account.
“Incoming,” he says. “Give it just a couple minutes.”
“Roger that,” I say.
I hear Frankie say something but he’s drowned out by those damn jets passing overhead again.
“What’s that?” I ask.
All I get back is a dial tone.
“Figures,” I say. I stand up and walk the phone to the men’s room and those damn planes fly over again. What the hell? How many of those jets are there?
I enter the bathroom where I run water over the burner phone in the sink and then throw it in the trash before returning to my seat.
About a minute later the planes fly by for a third time. Wait? Was that the third time of the fourth?
I look down at my watch. Wait a second. I heard the planes four times. There was three times about one minute a part. The Blue Angels are all about precision. They have to be. They fly wing to wing in formation for Pete’s sake.
Everything they do is calculated and practiced over and over and over until it becomes muscle memory. If they flew over three times, each a minute apart then how come I heard four flyovers?
By design Frankie never reveals his location. Why would he? Secrecy is one of the hallmarks of what we do. Not only that it protects him, me, and the client.
But there’s just no getting around the timing of those fly-overs.
And there’s just no getting around the fact that…he’s here.
CHAPTER 12
Owen
What is Frankie doing here? Is he watching me? Doesn’t he trust me to do this right?
This was the easiest assignment ever, until it turned into one of the most bizarre.
“Sir if you leave now, you can’t return,” the airport employee says.
“I’m staying,” I say.
I enter the non-passenger zone and exit the airport.
My feet are moving almost as fast as my mind.
“You’re back,” the agent at the local rental car company says. “Same car?”
“Not a car. A bike,” I say.
She smiles. “You can just rent a bike from one of those places on the island. It will take you a long time to get around though, and it’s—”
“Not that kind of bike,” I say. “A motorcycle.”
“We don’t have any motorcycles.”
“What about the one out front?”
“That’s my boyfriend’s.”
“Here,” I say pulling out the last money to my name and the few credit cards I do have. “The total limit on these cards is thirty thousand. You don’t get the bike back in three days it’s yours.”
“Why don’t you just buy one?” she asks.
“Same reason you don’t require paperwork.”
“One second,” she says. She pulls out her phone and after a few sentences in some kind of language that resembles Tagalog she hands over the keys.
“Thanks,” I say.
I throw my leg over the Ducati and race out to the North Shore.
It’s all making sense now. Frankie told me years ago he had a house out here. He told stories a few times over beers. He didn’t describe it in detail, but he described enough. I piece together those few conversations we had about his place with the visuals I got during the helicopter tour yesterday. I know right where I’m going to find it.
CHAPTER 13
Mila
I pull the USO hat lower on my head and blend into the crowd.
I stand in the spot where my dad recommended so I don’t get noticed, but where I can watch him do his thing…if I want.
The Blue Angels are doing some practice rounds to the delight of the crowd. Less than an hour from now they’ll do the real thing.
I’m kind of surprised they’re practicing so close to the actual event time, but when isn’t Pearl Harbor an event? It’s visited every day by so many of the tourists coming here to pay tribute to those who gave their lives so that others could live.
I just hoped that after I saw Owen again I was going to finally start living. That I’d be recognized for who I really am and that something could really happen. I was feeling pretty good about it after what happened on the boat…until he messed it all up with his professionalism talk.
So you can follow your heart when it comes time to picking a career and that’s called being professional. But when you follow your heart in the kind of matters it was really designed for that’s not professional. It’s like guys look at it as some kind of weakness or something. That or they just hide behind it and use it as an excuse.
If he were here right now I swear I’d punch him.
I laugh a little to myself. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t punch him. I’d wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug and welcome him back with everything I’ve got.
But what exactly do I have left?
I can’t keep playing this game. I can’t keep telling myself what could happen between us.
I’d already given up hope and then he shows up out of nowhere…only to smash the hope that I did have like taking a big ol’ hammer to a vase.
Well who knows? Maybe I’ll meet some new big strong bodyguard type today. Someone who can protect me and treat me the way I deserve.
Then my thoughts of him will go away. I’ll get my happily ever after and sail off into the sunset. That’s what’s going to happen…yeah…just like that.
I can’t lie to myself. My thoughts of him will never go away and it’s going to haunt me the rest of my life just like this whole thing with my dad.
Leaving him at the airport was not how this was supposed to end. And a few minutes in secrecy with my dad later today is not how a meeting between a father and his daughter is supposed to begin.
I’m just like a bad book. Bad start. Bad ending. And the sagging middle.
I laugh. At least I’ve got my sense of humor and a gym pass. That means I can at least fix one out of the three.
And I’ll do it on my own, as my life goes on…alone.
CHAPTER 14
Owen
I turn the knob. It’s locked. I back up and throw a shoulder into the door sending it crashing to the ground.
I know he’s not here. He’s got to be close to the airport or Pearl Harbor in order for the sound of the jets to have come through on that phone call.
My eyes scan the room. What a perfect hideout. It looks just like an unassuming, run down surf shack. Bet he’s not here more than a few months a year and probably just gets mistaken for a crusty old hippie. Well played, Frankie…for now.
I rifle through his things trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Jackpot!
I find a satchel in the middle drawer of his desk. I scan through everything as quickly as possible. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I know I’m running out of time.
Holy shit.
Frankie wants to take out Mila and me because he’s jealous. He’s obviously harbored these feelings since my days with the Secret Service.
Wait? What is this? He also has a hit on the president?
I look at the maps and the notes as a security expert would.
Frankie pretended to have a contract and even took bids…about fifteen of them.
But he never planned on giving the contract to anyone but me. My bid wasn’t even the lowest or the best.
He just wanted to put the two of us together so he could eliminate us at the same time. He was out to kill two birds with one stone, but he missed…twice.
I scan more paperwork as quickly as I can.
Wait a fucking second!
It was him who told the president I was sleeping with his daughter when I was with the Secret Service. That son of a bitch! Wait…it gets worse. He said our intimate relationship started when she was underage. That fucking liar! Fucking traitor!
He’s got all kinds of pictures of her in here. They’re probably the originals he used to frame that other guy.
So all this time it was Frankie who had the hots for Mila but he never said anything.
I drop the satchel and look at the notes on his desk.
He’s abandoned everything else and is all in on his new plan.
He’s rented a hotel downtown. He spoofed a text to Mila telling her where to stand…oh shit!
Once he shoots Mila he turns and fires on the president’s hotel room.
The shot on the president is a hit he’s taken from a terrorist group out of the Middle East.
Wait. So he was here for the president all along. He just threw Mila and I into all this to keep himself busy and to settle a personal grudge.
I look at my watch. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I pull out a burner phone and dial Mila. Straight to voicemail.
I look back down at his notes.
He plans on firing on her in…twenty minutes!
I burst through the door and peel out of there on the Ducati peppering the shack with gravel from the driveway all the way until I hit the main road.
My mental calculations say I don’t have enough time, but there’s one thing the math doesn’t take into account.
My heart…and the fact that I’ll never let anyone harm a single hair on that woman’s head.
Because she’s not just a woman. She’s my woman.
CHAPTER 15
Owen
“Pete!” I yell into my phone as I cut in between cars at over one hundred miles an hour.
So much for a helmet and so much for safe driving.
I’m a pro on a bike so although it may seem reckless I’m anything but. It’s just that drivers aren’t really expecting it, although they kind of are. Hawaii has a big sports bike culture so guys flying around on Kawasakis, Yamahas, and Ducatis aren’t that uncommon.
“I can’t hear you,” he says.
“We’ve got a shooter. He’s in a hotel downtown by the speech. The Rainbow Waterfront.”
“What are you talking about man?”
“It’s Frankie. Remember the guy we worked with at the Secret Service?”
“Have you lost your mind? We already got your guy.”
“It’s not him. Frankie framed him. Listen. I need the eagle back from the windows of his hotel. Shooter has eyes on him and is planning on taking him out in under twenty minutes.”
“The eagle?” Pete says in reaction to my calling out the president. The eagle being the term we use to describe him when we’re talking on the communications devices. With as much security as the president travels with it’s hard to believe anyone would ever get the eagle in their sights.
“It’s real, man. I’m in route. Gotta go.”
I hang up the phone and slide it into my backpack then hit the throttle even harder.
I’m running out of time and it looks like this is coming down to me versus the world. Pete doesn’t believe me, couldn’t hear me very well, and might not be able to get a call over to the Secret Service even if he did.
But now I’ve got a decision to make…the president…or Mila.
CHAPTER 16
Mila
“Wow, this shaved ice is pretty good,” I say. It sure beats the heat on a day like today.
I walk back over to my spot and look around for Secret Servicemen. I don’t spot a single one, but then again that’s probably the point. If I could see them they wouldn’t be so secret. I wonder if they have eyes on me already or if they’re just focused on my dad. I mean…do I even matter at this point?
Who cares. I’m going to enjoy my treat and take in the last of my time on the island. I’m done with men for a while. They’re too disappointing.
I look down the road and see a motorcycle coming at high speeds. He’s motioning “down” with his hand. Another guy I’m sure. Here to cause havoc to my life like all the others. He’ll turn and run the other direction the last second anyways. Men always do.
I dig in to my shaved ice and pull out a blue bit. Blueberry shaved ice. Wow, this is better than avocado toast and that’s probably my favorite thing going right now.
The bike drives right off the street and into the pedestrian area. Is this guy absolutely crazy? Has he lost his freaking mind?
I feel my body tense up as the bike continues right toward me!
I pull the shaved ice into my chest and close my eyes.
Oh my god he’s going to hit me!
Suddenly I feel a forearm come hard across my midsection and I’m lifted off the ground. The ice goes everywhere and I feel my ass land in the guy’s lap!
I open my eyes just in time to stare up at the sky. I get a glimpse of the guy’s face.
Owen?
The bike screeches to a halt and then makes a loud sound as it turns to go the other direction. Smoke is everywhere and it smells like burnt rubber.
Suddenly I hear a loud thud of metal on metal. Then another. Then another.
Oh my god! Someone is shooting at us.
Owen punches the gas and we take off. I can’t see anything. I’m laid out across his lap. My hair is flying everywhere. I feel like I’m about to fall off, but I know he’s got me.
I reach for his big forearm and hold on tight.
A second later we jump off the bike as it skids to a halt. He catches me in his arms and sets me down.
“What’s happening?”
“Stay here in the alley. You’re safe here. I’ll be back for you.”
“Don’t leave me!” I say.
“I’ll be back.”
Owen takes off running down the alley and then turns and he’s gone.
I look around at the high walls on either side of me. I’m not sure if I feel safer or trapped.
Either way I just want to know what’s going on and I want it to end.
CHAPTER 17
Mila
This is nerve-racking.
I put my back against the building and try to get as small as I can. That and I want to blend in. If someone is shooting the last thing I want is to be a target…again.
A minute passes. Then two. Then three. I look at my watch. Exactly five minutes later I see a commotion at the end of the alley. People are taking pictures, pointing and staring.
I’m not about to get stuck in this alley alone if something weird is going on out there and it spills over into my direction.
I move toward the edge of the alley and take a peek out.
It’s Owen! He’s got some guy face down on the sidewalk and he’s subduing him.
Suddenly some men come running over to help. They’re talking into what appears to be communication devices planted in their ear. Their demeanors scream “Secret Service.”
They get the man on the ground cuffed and drag him away.
I see Owen look up. He spots me at the entrance to the alley and he walks over to me. He’s covered in sweat, smoke, dirt and who knows what else…and he’s never looked hotter.
He walks right up to me and grabs my face with both hands before kissing me right on the lips.
The crowd erupts, cheering wildly.
“What just happened?” I say when he pulls away.
“I finally got my priorities straight. That’s what happened.”
“Huh?”
“Beautiful. I don’t have a ring and I don’t have a lot of money right now, but what I do have is you and I know that’s the most valuable thing in the world and I don’t ever want to lose it. Will you marry me?”
“What? I…I…don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes!” someone yells. “Yes!” another voice cuts through the air.
Bodyguard: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 33) Page 5
