Guarding Him

by Kori David

  The cold made her shoulder ache, now that her brain wasn’t occupied and overwhelmed with Ian. It was a reminder that getting involved wasn’t a good idea. That she was already involved, unwillingly, didn’t matter, because it could hurt them both.

  Chapter 13

  “You need to wake up now.”

  Cold water sluiced over Nestor’s head, the shock waking him up. Groggy and disoriented, his eyelids felt like they’d been sandpapered. He went to rub them but couldn’t move his arms. That was weird. Trying again, his arms wouldn’t move, but his fingers could. “What the hell?”

  “Ah, good. You’re finally awake.”

  The voice was low and sounded like gravel churning. The awful crick in his neck made Nestor realize that he sat in a chair, chin to chest. And his head hurt—bad. The kind of hurt that signaled someone or something had hit him, but that didn’t make any sense. He didn’t remember being in a fight. In fact, the last thing he did remember was…

  Fingers snapped in front of his eyes. “Hello? Over here.”

  Nestor’s vision slowly focused, and he looked up. The man standing in front of him probably played football at some point. “Where am I?”

  “Hey, Frankie, he’s awake now.” The blond giant called it over his shoulder. Then he rubbed his hands together. “This is gonna be fun.”

  “Go behind our guest, Eugene,” another voice said from the shadows. And the big man moved out of Nestor’s eyesight.

  He couldn’t see much since he was sitting directly under a light, and his vision was still a little blurry. Wiggling around a bit to try and get more comfortable, Nestor came to the startling realization that he was naked. His bare ass warmed the chair, and his ankles and wrists were tied to the wood. “What the fuck is this?”

  “This is a pleasant moment before you start experiencing quite a bit of pain.”

  Chills skittered up Nestor’s spine, and his ass clenched as the primal fear those words evoked washed over him. He didn’t like the feeling, so he puffed out his chest and said, “Fuck you.”

  A “tsk tsk” came back from the surrounding shadows. “Brave words. Wonder if you can still say them when you start bleeding.”

  “Come into the light like a man,” Nestor growled. He didn’t like talking into the dark; he wanted to see who the fuck taunted him. He pulled hard on the ropes around his wrists, only succeeding in making his wrists burn. His feet planted back on the ground because he’d rocked back, and he heard the crinkle as well as felt the waxy texture. Shit. He was in the middle of plastic. This was a professional job.

  “Alright.”

  Stepping out of the shadows was another large man with the same kind of blond hair the giant had. This man was only marginally smaller, but the smile on his face made Nestor’s stomach roll. He had a black T-shirt on and blue jeans—and an apron. The kind butchers wore. Nestor knew he was in trouble, maybe the worst trouble he’d ever been in, including the time twenty gangbangers all took turns beating the shit out of him as his initiation. He’d pissed blood for two weeks, lost a couple of teeth, and broken at least four ribs.

  The sick feeling creeping over him was that this was going to be much worse.

  “Tell you what,” the man said, moving around Nestor and looking him up and down, “you can ask me a question and I’ll ask you a question. Sound fair?”

  “Who are you?”

  “It’s never an interesting question, but it’s always the first.” The man that the giant called Frankie cocked his head to the side and watched Nestor squirm. “My name is Frank.”

  “What the fu—"

  The big meaty fist hit him on the left side of the face, rocking his head to the side and jarring his already bruised brain. Nausea rose, burning his throat as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. His balls pulled up closer to his body as if knowing how vulnerable Nestor was. “It’s my turn for a question.”

  “Sorry,” Nestor said quickly without even thinking. It sickened him to say it, and he hated the way his voice quivered, but he didn’t want more pain.

  The man smiled. “Very nice. Now, who hired you?”

  “For what? You got the wrong guy.”

  This time the blow came from behind—the menace in the shadows that he couldn’t see any longer. It wasn’t a fist, but a belt that flew around his middle, buckle first. The metal hit him in the stomach; the strength of the lash, as well as the surprise of it, caused the air to whoosh out of his lungs.

  “You don’t get to ask another question until you’ve answered mine.”

  Breathing heavy, Nestor took a minute. Then he said, “I don’t know. I never met him, and he uses one of those voice disguiser things when he calls. I don’t know who he is; I can’t tell you anything, man.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you—yet. Now, you get a question.”

  “Look, man, I don’t know anything. All I know is that I was hired to steal some kind of plans from a rich guy, and once I had them, I’d be given instructions on how to drop them off.” Nestor watched the man’s face for any kind of reaction. “I’m no fucking snitch. Let me go, and I’m out. You won’t see me again.”

  A small smile played around the corner of Frank’s mouth. Nestor didn’t want to know these guys; he just wanted to go home to Carla. He’d start selling dope and stay home.

  “That wasn’t a question, and I’ve already seen you too much.”

  “I don’t want to know you, man. Just let me go.”

  “If you have no more questions, then I’ll proceed.” Stepping out of the light, Nestor heard some rustling from in front and behind—then the unmistakable sound of a blade being sharpened.

  “Wait, don’t do this—" his voice trailed off, and stark terror replaced the fear that had been riding him hard.

  The one named Frank and the smiling blond giant stepped into the light. The giant was completely naked, and both wore clear protective eyewear. Both held knives. The giant had one of those long, curved, thin knives that Nestor had seen used at the wharf. The kind fisherman used to slice up their catch. Frank held a big hunting knife—the kind that could easily gut a man.

  There was no pleading with them, Nestor realized. He was going to die, and they were going to enjoy killing him. Mustering up all the courage he had left, he hocked up every ounce of saliva left in his dry mouth and spit it at them. “Fuck you, pendejos.”

  “Now, Frankie?”

  “Have fun, brother.”

  “GO TO HELL,” Nestor yelled, just as the sting of the knife sliced open the top part of his groin.

  * * *

  Lindsay curled up into a ball in the dark. She was gagged and zip-tied to a sink in a small bathroom. She’d been awake for a while now, working on the ties and feeling her wrists begin to bleed. She was scared. More scared than she’d ever been in her life.

  She remembered following the Mexican guy in the van most of the day. Boring work, but still exciting because she was doing something. Getting his license plate ended up being easy, and she’d placed a phone call to Kei, rattling off the information and description. Kei told her that she’d done a great job and to call it a day.

  But Lindsay wanted more.

  It was a break in Nic’s case, and she was the one that got it. This was what it was like to be high on your job, to make a difference, and Lindsay was going to impress her boss. So, she’d ignored Kei and continued to follow the van. And when evening came, she followed the van to a side street near Mr. Jamison’s house.

  Lindsay told herself that she wasn’t going to confront the guy, just follow him, and find out what he was going to do. He never even knew she was behind him. On the verge of calling Kei again with the intent of telling her about the newest development, she’d been taken. Arms, strong as a vise, went around her throat and her body, picking her up and jerking her backward into the alley where she’d been lurking.

  She’d gasped for air, but it wasn’t long before her world went black, and then she’d woken up here. Wherever here was.
Bound and gagged. Turning her head, she heard voices in another room. They were too quiet to make out, but she strained to hear anything.

  “GO TO HELL,” a man yelled.

  And then the screaming started. Lindsay couldn’t even cover her ears as the man screamed. The sounds were long and torturous. Hot tears fell as she curled under the sink, making herself as small as possible.

  Lindsay started shaking, chills breaking out as her full bladder let loose in a hot gush, soaking her jeans and the floor around her. The man continued to scream, sometimes high-pitched and sometimes moaning like a wounded animal. She wasn’t sure how long it went on as she sat there, but she knew with a clarity born of terror that she was going to die. Her own scream clawed at her throat as she rubbed her wrists back and forth, trying desperately to loosen the ties.

  And then the screaming abruptly stopped.

  Please, God, help me.

  * * *

  Nic shot up in bed. The nightmare vividly imprinted on her brain. She’d been in full gear from her days in the Army, but she couldn’t find her gun. She’d been searching desperately for something but couldn’t remember what it was. It was weird and scary, and she lay there waiting for her racing heart to calm down.

  Something was wrong.

  Her clock said it was almost dawn, but only a hint of light showed through the big window in her room. Swinging her legs to the side, she grabbed a T-shirt and some sweatpants. She also grabbed her gun. Checking the partially opened door through the bathroom, Nic could see Ian sleeping in his bed.

  Going downstairs, Nic crept through the house, checking doors and windows and looking for anything out of the ordinary. Something woke her, but as the streaks of light began rising in the East, Nic finally decided it was just a dream. No premonition of anything, just a stupid dream. Going back upstairs, she put her gun away and got dressed. Checking the time, not that it mattered, since Kei never slept, she decided to check in.

  “Have you heard from Lindsay?”

  Kei, as usual, was straight to the point. Nic replied, “No, I haven’t. The last time I talked to her, I had her doing roving patrols looking for that white van.”

  “She found it and gave me the plate info, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

  Nic sat down on the edge of the bed. Not hearing from Lindsay wasn’t bad, but it was unusual for the girl. “What did Courtney find?”

  “Her last cell location was one street over from your client’s home.”

  Worry settled over her, partially due to the remnants of the dream and partly because Lindsay was so gung-ho to help that she could have put herself in a bad situation. “Who is headed over to the location?”

  “I’m headed there now.”

  Nic nodded to herself. Kei would find out more. “I’m going to cut this trip short and head back. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “I don’t either,” she said. “I also need to fill you in on some details.” There was a long pause, and then Kei said quietly. “Drake is in town.”

  Cold dread settled on Nic’s shoulders. “And you think Lindsay is missing.” It wasn’t a question any longer. Kei wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.

  “I hope I’m wrong.”

  Nic shared the worry she could barely detect in the other woman’s voice. “I hope so too. Call me the moment you find anything. I’m packing up, and we’re leaving within the hour.”

  “What’s happened?” Ian asked from the doorway.

  Nic turned to him, noticing the worried look and rumpled hair. “I need you and Isobel to cut your visit short and return with me.”

  Ian crossed the room and stood in front of her. He took in the worry she didn’t bother to hide. “Whatever you need,” he said. No hesitation. “Tell me what happened.”

  “One of our agents is missing.” She didn’t go into detail about the FBI agent. Once Kei filled her in, she’d decide what to tell Ian. “You met her the other day. Lindsay Clarke?”

  “The blonde kid with the big blue eyes?”

  Nic nodded. “This is not like her at all. That girl is usually annoying with how much she checks in. She’s so damned eager to be a field agent.” Nic ran a hand through her hair and down her face before looking at Ian again. “I gave her an assignment doing roving patrols around your house and Jamison Electronics, looking for the man who broke in the other night.”

  “And she found the guy?”

  Nic nodded. “I saw a suspicious van and a man who seemed to be watching the business. The man had a limp but was too far away to be sure. I gave her the description and let her loose but gave her specific instructions not to engage. She was to report anything to Kei.” She stopped and ran her hand through her short locks again, giving herself a small yank to focus. “If something happens to her, it’s my fault.”

  Ian knelt at her feet, pulling her ice-cold hands into his big warm ones. “Whatever happens, good or bad, none of it is your fault. If there’s one thing I know for sure, is that we only think we’re masters of our own fate. There is just too much out of our control, Nicolette.”

  Because she couldn’t stop herself, Nic reached out and brushed the hair out of Ian’s face. “Thank you. It won’t help with any guilt I may have, but thank you.”

  Ian pulled one hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Nothing sexual, just an acknowledgment of what she battled internally. Then he stood and pulled her up with him. “I’ll go wake Izzy. Do we need Evan to come as well?”

  Nic shook her head. “There is no evidence that your brother is in any way targeted, which is why a bodyguard was never suggested for him. You are the prime objective, and by extension, your CEO may be due to the knowledge she may have.”

  “Okay, then. You finish packing, and I will get us out of here in thirty minutes.”

  When he turned away, Nic grabbed his hand to stop him. “No matter what else happens, Ian. I’ll make sure you and those plans stay safe.”

  “I know you will,” he said. Then he was gone.

  Nic threw her stuff into her bag, not having packed much in the first place. Then she placed one more call. And when he picked up, he sounded groggy.

  “Yeah?”

  “I have a question, and I need a favor.”

  “Anything, Angel.”

  “Did you know that the FBI had a profiler working in the area?”

  She could hear him moving around and a click as if he’d turned on a light. It was barely dawn, and unless Cody Sanders was surfing, the chief of police liked to keep banker hours. “I have extended Drake Page the courtesy of nosing around, but he’s not here in an official capacity—yet.”

  “I need you to assign someone to watch Isobel Jamison for her protection like we talked about, but I need it now. That’s the favor.”

  “What’s going on, Nic?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but we’ve got a missing agent and a profiler nosing around who only deals with serial killers.”

  “Shit. I’ve got a burned body that is so messed up that it’s going to take a miracle to identify her, and he showed up at the scene, I was told.”

  Nic’s heart nearly dropped to the floor. “Jesus,” she whispered. “Lindsay’s been missing since last night; could it be her?” Her voice held steady through the whole question, and then she held her breath as she waited for the answer.

  “No way, Nic. This vic was found yesterday morning. Can’t be your girl.”

  “Oh, thank God.” She blew out the breath she’d been holding and felt a little lightheaded. “I’m a couple of hours away, and then I’m meeting with Kei. Can you give me a warm body to watch Isobel?”

  “Not with my guys busy canvassing the area looking for info on the body we have, but you know I’m there for you. Call me when you get her settled in, and I’ll be over.”

  “You’re the chief now, Cody. This is a bit below your pay grade.”

  “I’ve got your back, Angel. I’ve been on light duty since the injury and don’t have anything to do til
l I can resume my position full time anyway. Don’t give a second thought.”

  Nic sighed, thankful that he was such a stand-up guy and worried that he was going to get himself into trouble for her. “You miss the action, don’t you?”

  “Anything to postpone another meeting with the City Manager’s office. I’ll be fine, Nic; stop worrying.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as we hit town.” Rattling off the address to Isobel’s home and the office, she disconnected the call.

  Then she called Lindsay’s cell because the bad feeling hadn’t gone away. Her chirpy voice answered and told Nic to leave a message. Nic’s hand tightened around the small device, holding it close, hoping against hope that she’d get the chance to hear that voice in person again.

  Chapter 14

  “So, this is what a council of war looks like,” Ian said. Looking around, it was a diverse and interesting group in his kitchen. They’d gathered around the coffee machine while it brewed, even though most of them had clearly already had a couple of cups. It was almost eight a.m.

  “We’re just waiting for Cody to show,” Nic said, although she’d already filled Ian in on the severity of the situation.

  She’d been completely silent on the drive back. Her cell phone clutched in her hand, it had buzzed once, and when she’d read the message, she went pale. Ian had done the only thing he could; he drove faster. Now he had an FBI agent and the enigmatic owner of K.A.W. Protection Agency in the kitchen, and they were waiting on the chief of police. His sister sat close by, watching them all, and working on her laptop.

  The revelations of the past few moments had his head spinning.

  The doorbell buzzed, and the FBI guy moved toward the door. “I’ll get it.” He came back with Cody Sanders, who immediately went and hugged Nic. It set Ian’s teeth on edge.