Security Detail

by Lisa Phillips

  Allowing herself to be protected was a reflex, especially with Conner. She couldn’t help falling back into the dynamic of him as the agent and her as the charge who was to be shielded at all costs. She wanted to be strong. For once she wanted to be the one who got to choose to put her life on the line protecting someone else. Not to die but to prove that the person she cared for had value and was worth saving.

  Curling up on the floor of the truck hurt like she’d been the ball in a pinball machine, slammed into every available surface. But she had to hold her ground if she was going to help keep Conner alive. His job was the priority here.

  “Lean over and hit the gas.”

  What? Kayla had to turn around and contort her body painfully, but she found the gas pedal with her fingers and pressed it down. The truck roared and launched backward. Conner grabbed the wheel but didn’t look out the windows. Gunshots peppered the front hood, and the window smashed.

  Bang. “Seven.” Bang. “Eight.” Bang. “Nine. He’s out.” Conner sat up. He grabbed the wheel with both hands and she moved her fingers off the gas a second before his foot slammed into it. “He’ll have to reload. Never did like to wait for a clear shot. Hold on.” The truck lurched up the hill, going backward. Conner spun the wheel and threw it into Drive.

  The tires hit paved road and the ride smoothed out.

  Kayla pressed a hand against her chest. Her arm was heavy, and her shoulder hurt. Not to mention her head. “Wait. You were shot.”

  “Hit my vest.” He patted his chest.

  Kayla squeezed her eyes shut. Thank You, Lord.

  Her face was sticky, and Conner’s didn’t look much better than hers felt. Was his nose broken? They probably needed a hospital. Could Conner go to the emergency room when he was undercover with the best-known criminal in the county? She didn’t know what the Secret Service’s policy was on that. Maybe she should call Locke later. The special agent who had been Conner’s supervisor should be able to shed some light for her on the dos and don’ts of undercover operations.

  What were they going to do now? Andis Bamir “wanted” her, whatever that meant. Conner hadn’t been okay with that, which was fine with her. He knew them. But now she and Conner were on the run.

  Thank You, Lord, for protecting us. For keeping us alive. Help us out of this and neutralize Andis. Help Conner finish this job. She wanted him to be done, and safe, as much as she wanted Andis and his operation out of commission.

  Only that would mean Conner’s time here would be over.

  And then he would leave.

  Conner lifted his hand, then slammed his palm down on the steering wheel. “Phone.”

  Kayla blinked at his abrupt order and then looked around. She fished it from under the seat and handed it to him. Conner made a call. “Because it’s done.” He paused. “I’m blown.”

  *

  Kayla directed Conner to her house and he parked down the street. When she glanced at him, he said, “In and out, two minutes. Got it?”

  She nodded, so he continued, “I don’t think Manny followed us. I shot out one of his tires, but we’re not taking chances one of the others isn’t watching your house. Get your stuff.”

  Conner scanned the area as he strode down the front walk. He couldn’t surround her, so he covered her as best he could. The tiny one-story house was like a fairy-tale setting. Flowers everywhere, colors that probably looked fantastic in the daylight. Spring had sprung in her yard, taking him back to memories of his childhood. He’d been in fourth grade and a lost neighborhood puppy had crawled under the fence into their yard. The puppy had dug holes all over the grass, eaten half his mother’s flowers and then thrown up. After that it’d been so exhausted it slumped on its side and took a nap.

  That was how Conner had found it.

  And picked it up.

  And hid it in the shed barely in time before his mom came home and freaked out because her magazine-worthy backyard had been destroyed.

  He’d taken the blame, and the grounding, and managed to hide the puppy for another two weeks before his dad figured out what was going on.

  And he’d replanted everything by himself.

  Kayla put her hand on his arm, jolting him from his thoughts. Focus. He had to focus, or one or both of them would end up dead.

  “I hope you can pick a lock, because I don’t have my keys.”

  Finally, something he could do that was easy. Conner got them inside and had Kayla wait by the front door while he cleared the house. “Okay. We’re good for the moment.” He headed toward the door. “Pack your bag for a couple of days, but do it fast.”

  Kayla stared at him. Eventually, she nodded, then trailed down the hall.

  Whatever that had been, he was glad she wasn’t arguing. Conner glanced around while he waited. He really liked her house. It was…homey. Kind of girlie for his tastes, but then, she probably wouldn’t like his brown couch and the fact that his house smelled like the previous owner’s dog. But he wasn’t in this line of work for the sweet accommodations. Thugs didn’t live in expensive condos or cute little houses.

  He should hurry her up so they could leave. It wasn’t safe for her, and they needed to get out of there as soon as possible. But he figured that despite what had happened, and maybe because of it, he shouldn’t say it. She’d done the right thing, and they’d survived that encounter with Manny, but she was at ease now. He didn’t want to spoil it, even if he was still completely tuned in to what was happening.

  Just in case Manny—or any of Andis’s other men—showed up to try to kill them again.

  Conner rubbed his chest where the bullet had hit his vest. The latest in body armor, it didn’t look obvious under his shirt, but now Manny would know without a doubt. Only a cop would wear protection.

  “Let’s go, Kayla!”

  She rushed down the hall with a bulging tote bag over one shoulder. “I figured packing light was better.”

  “It is.” He grabbed her hand and they strode to the front door. He scanned the street, the other houses, everything, but half his attention was on the feel of her hand in his. So soft, especially compared to the Sig in his other hand. He could hardly describe how it felt in his chest to have her close. To be touching her, even in this small way.

  And she would never know it.

  Fifteen minutes later he had them checked into a cheap motel that didn’t require his ID or ask questions.

  Kayla dumped her tote on the bed and hissed, then brought her elbow around so she could peer at it. “Ouch. Looks about as bad as your nose.”

  Conner caught hold of her hand. He turned her so he could see the road rash that covered her elbow. “Did the truck do that?” The passenger door was all bent plastic and sharp edges. It was good she hadn’t suffered worse.

  “Conner, you know your nose is probably broken, right?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Not the first time.” She wet a washcloth in the bathroom sink and he held it to his nose. “Okay, now it hurts.” He tried to smile, but she didn’t return it.

  Conner tossed the washcloth on the bed and tore open a packet of gauze so he could clean her elbow for her. Kayla pursed her lips and blew air out.

  He winced. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be, not when your nose looks like that. You’re the one who got shot. I don’t know why you’re worried about my elbow. We got through it together, Conner, but if you hadn’t been at my office, I’d have died tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” His presence had escalated things. “Kayla—”

  “Don’t downplay it. I got out of the truck to help, which didn’t go so well, but you did so much more.” She leaned back and pulled her arm from his grip.

  “If you really knew the kind of man he is, you would have stayed in the truck where I left you and let me deal with him.” Conner could feel the blood coming from his nose again but ignored it. “They were going to take you to their boss, Kayla. A man you do not want to meet. A man who uses
people and then makes them disappear when he’s done. I don’t want you anywhere near him, and I definitely don’t want you drawing even more attention to yourself.”

  Kayla grabbed the washcloth and pressed it against his upper lip. “They already know who I am.” Her words were soft, and he saw what looked like grief there. She had suffered a loss tonight, even if it was only a loss of her peace of mind and the sense of safety most people took for granted that had gone up in flames along with her computer and all of her files.

  He said, “You don’t want to be someone they remember.”

  “I know. That’s why I always worked so hard to be someone you remember.”

  Conner stared. Kayla stared right back, not scared. Not nervous. Nothing but a carefree hope that meant she had apparently forgotten they’d nearly died that night. Didn’t she care that Andis was after her? Or did she just trust him that much to protect her?

  Kayla saw an opportunity and jumped in with two feet. He admired it about her, even while it had driven him almost nuts watching it and knowing he could only protect her from afar. He could never be the man she chose to protect her for the rest of her life. “Kayla—”

  She swayed sideways, far enough that she slumped toward the floor. Conner grabbed her before she fell and looked at her face. Her eyelids fluttered. She raised a hand to her forehead. “Conner.”

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the armchair. Concussions could be tricky things, and he wanted to wait a couple of minutes to see if she came around before he called an ambulance and completely blew their cover at the motel. It could just be exhaustion and the sudden absence of adrenaline.

  Kayla made a low noise in her throat and burrowed into him before he could settle her onto the chair. “Missed you.”

  *

  Conner’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He checked on Kayla, then moved away and pulled out his cell. The screen went black and then illuminated again. Greg was calling back.

  Conner answered. “I’m okay.”

  Greg exhaled loudly. “Thank You, God.” He muttered the words and then said, “When you didn’t call back, I was starting to get worried.”

  “Good news is the body armor works.” He kept his voice down so he didn’t wake Kayla. “Bad news is I need you to call a doctor and find out what to do with a possible concussion.” He explained what had happened and Kayla’s almost passing out.

  “I’ll find out.”

  “Thanks, Greg.” Conner sank into a chair. His handler had been a colleague before tonight. Now he was a lifeline. “Manny will be after me, trying to clean up the mess the guys made. Kayla is still loose, and Andis will want to speak with her.”

  “You’ve lost your in with them.”

  “They shouldn’t have kept this business with Kayla from me,” Conner said. “They must have known I knew her, so they never said anything. Probably figured I’d step in, which I did anyway.” He blew out a breath. “This whole thing is a mess. They’re never going to trust me now that I put a woman over what Andis wants.”

  Greg didn’t comment either way. They were both Secret Service agents and Kayla was the daughter of a former president. There was nothing to say.

  Greg broke the silence. “How much of the case is salvageable?”

  “I’m not leaving until Kayla is safe. If we can make a case on what I’ve collected, we should move forward.”

  “It isn’t enough. They’ll want more than that before they go for an arrest warrant.” Greg paused, and Conner knew he wasn’t going to like what Greg would say next. “They want you to find out where he’s printing the money. All or nothing, Conner. They want the whole organization to come down. After the money quit flowing, there was some question over whether you’d spooked them, but I don’t think that’s it.”

  Conner sighed. Weeks after he’d talked his way into Andis’s operation, the money had stopped coming in. For some reason, the counterfeit operation had ceased. And no one was talking about it.

  “Whatever the reason,” he said, “I think it has something to do with Kayla. They came after her hard. If I hadn’t been there, she’d be with Andis. A hiker would have found her floating in the river three days from now.” Conner could barely think about it, but it was a hard world he lived in. One he was going to keep Kayla protected from at all costs.

  Conner sighed. “So keep her safe and find out where Andis was printing money, and at the same time, figure out why the counterfeiting suddenly stopped.”

  “No one ever said undercover work was easy,” Greg said. “But I do have a team on standby.”

  “No. The team doesn’t know I’m undercover. They think I betrayed the Secret Service. There’s no way they’ll trust me, and I have to finish this. It’s my job.”

  “And it’s Kayla’s safety.”

  “She’s good.” Greg didn’t have to remind him. Conner would deal with the threat to her. “We’re good.”

  But what if something happened to her because he’d assumed he could handle it? Conner squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I want the team in the area on standby. I don’t want my identity leaked—I just want available backup.”

  “Done. What about local cops, the sheriff?”

  “I trust the Secret Service more.”

  Greg said, “Stay safe. I’ll get a medical opinion on concussions.”

  “Thanks.” Conner wasn’t taking any chances. If he was going to keep Kayla safe and finish this assignment, it would take everything he had. “And, Greg?”

  “Yeah, Conner?”

  “Get me a picture of Andis Bamir’s wife and daughter. I need to ask Kayla something when she wakes up.”

  SIX

  Kayla looked around and pushed back the covers. Conner was asleep in the armchair. He’d woken her a couple of times to make sure she was okay. Something about doctor’s orders. Then he’d gone back to the armchair and dropped off to sleep in an instant while she’d lain there with her brain spinning. After that she’d stared at the ceiling listening to his soft snore.

  It took two cups of nasty motel coffee before her brain kicked in and she quit being so disoriented. Despite his not seeming to mind sticking around and taking care of her, Conner needed to wake up. She couldn’t bear to rouse him, though. He looked exhausted. Kayla took a shower, hoping the noise woke him at the same time she prayed it didn’t.

  When she came back out, he was still sleep. He’d put his jacket on the back of a chair and discarded his boots. His hair was rumpled, and the shadow of a beard covered his face below his swollen nose and the tiny strips of bandage that he’d put over it. That looked like it hurt. Kayla filled a cup of coffee for him and set it on the end table as the need to wake him evaporated.

  But what else could she do?

  She wished she was at home, where she could see her things. Her parents’ wedding picture. The framed photo of her father being sworn in as the president. Kayla waltzing with the Italian ambassador. Conner. A candid photo, one of the few in which neither of them had their guard up. Maybe it was better that they were in a motel and not where he could see that she still had a copy of it. Thankfully he hadn’t noticed it when he was searching her house.

  It was taken at a Christmas party, so long ago she’d still had that nose ring. Her head was tipped back as if she’d been laughing. Conner had a smile in his eyes, and all of his attention was on her. Someone had snapped a rare moment when they hadn’t been fighting.

  Before everything had gone wrong.

  Before she’d thought it was a good idea to slip free of her Secret Service detail and go to a brand-new club. Before a man had dropped a drug into her drink and she’d gotten dizzy. The man had walked her to the back entrance, probably knowing if he used the front, someone would recognize her.

  He’d almost made it, too. Until Conner showed up. She barely remembered what had happened because of the drug’s effects, but she would never forget the look on Conner’s face as he stared into her eyes and asked her if she was okay. He�
�d been furious. She was also pretty sure he’d beaten up the guy who’d tried to abduct her, because he’d had swollen red knuckles the next day.

  Just doing my job.

  She’d tried to talk to him about it, to thank him for saving her, but he’d brushed it off as no big deal. Duty. Like there wasn’t a well of emotion between them. Like she was nothing but a charge to him. Kayla had applied for law school the next day. Maybe to make him miss her, and maybe a little part of her had wanted to make something of herself so that he’d have to face the fact that she was somebody. Not just the president’s daughter, but somebody.

  She’d hardly seen him after that and definitely hadn’t spoken to him. She’d found faith thanks to a roommate who didn’t quit sharing with her about the love of God.

  Kayla smiled to herself, perched on the end of the bed and sipped more coffee. She knew who she was now: not just a lawyer but a child of God, as well. Beloved. It shouldn’t matter what Conner saw in her now, but part of her relented to the fact that it did.

  Conner’s phone chimed. Kayla turned in time to see him jump out of the chair and whip his gun from behind his back.

  “Is the phone trying to kill you?” She brought the cup to her lips, feeling a smile there.

  He blinked and his dark eyes came to her. “We don’t joke about threats.”

  She swallowed. Apparently that had been a bad idea. “Sorry.”

  Conner stowed his gun back in his shoulder holster and picked up his phone. And the coffee. He drank half a cup with his eyes on his phone while he tapped and swiped. “Kayla, come here.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  “Why? What is it?”

  He didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. “It’s the email I was waiting for. Now come here.”

  Kayla walked over. He handed her his phone. On screen was a picture of a woman and child. “Sofija and Lena. Why do you have a picture of—”