DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Jason Kassidy. He’s another member of this group O’Bannon belonged to. I believe he was her accomplice in trying to stop Johnson from selling the weapons guidance system and he shot at Amelia’s house out of a sense of revenge, maybe. Or to scare McGregor out of town.”

  “But how did he know where McGregor was?”

  “I think he probably followed him from his house to our offices and waited, following him to Amelia’s. I think he probably knew all along where he was and was waiting to see if he would turn himself in to the cops.”

  “And when he didn’t …?”

  “He decided to do something to frighten him away. Or to take out his own revenge. Or to simply blow off a little steam and remind McGregor that there were other people involved in this whole thing.” Vincent shrugged. “I have no idea what his motives were. And we probably won’t ever know. Kassidy left the country the day after O’Bannon’s body was released from the morgue. I believe he took her body back to Ireland.”

  I took a seat behind my desk and looked through the information Vincent had handed me. If he was right, we could bring McGregor back and he would likely be absolved of his crimes. But Johnson was probably still looking for him and if they found him before we did …

  “Is the CEO of Johnson aware of what we know? Is he aware that his secret is out?”

  “We have someone watching him. He hasn’t done anything to make us terribly concerned, but we’ll continue to watch him.”

  “If he makes a move, I want to be the first to know about it.”

  “Of course.”

  I studied the papers a moment longer, then set them aside. I’d never given much thought to Amelia and her attempts to get me to notice her, but I’d suddenly begun missing her coffee deliveries every morning.

  If anything happened to her because of this man …

  Chapter 18

  Rowan

  We left the bookstore and walked through the mall like a normal couple on a normal weekday afternoon. It was dark out and most of the shoppers were dressed in work attire, hitting the mall after a long day in the office. I held tight to Amelia’s hand, studying every person who walked past us, holding my breath in the fear that one of them might turn on us and be the assassin sent to end our escape.

  Amelia pulled me into the food court and forced me to buy an oversized pretzel, insisting that it was the best thing about an American mall.

  “You can’t truly call yourself Americanized until you’ve had one of these pretzels.”

  “Didn’t know I wanted to be Americanized.”

  “Everyone wants to be Americanized.”

  She winked as she took a big bite of her own salted pretzel, closing her eyes and sighing as the flavors burst over her tongue. It reminded me of the ecstasy that crossed her face in the most intimate of moments, causing a response that made me wish we were anywhere but in the center of this very crowded food court.

  “Tell me about your village,” she said as the ecstasy wore off.

  “There’s not much to tell. It’s a small collection of homes and businesses in Northern Ireland.”

  “You grew up there. Your mother grew up there. Your grandfather. Surely there’s something special about it.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “It’s quiet and quaint. The kind of place I hated as a teenager, but will probably long for in my old age.” I picked at my pretzel as I thought about it. “My mother knew everyone. They’d come into the bakery and she would know instantly who they were and what they were there for. She’d have birthday cakes and anniversary cakes all planned out before the customer even came in to order it. And everyone loved her.”

  “Even you.”

  “Especially me. I used to sit in a corner of the kitchen and just watch her, admiring the way she kneaded the bread like it wasn’t the most extreme workout a person could give their arms, talking to the cakes as she decorated them like they were babies she was dressing in their Sunday best.”

  I smiled as I thought about it. “My mother … she’s a beautiful woman, inside and out. I never understood why she never married, why she never sought out one of the many single men in the village who flirted with her all through my childhood.”

  “Maybe she was content in her life.”

  “I think it was about me.” I sighed as this thought I’d pushed away too often suddenly rose to the surface. “I think my biological father broke her heart and she thought that if she devoted her life to me, if she worked hard to make my life good, that she would protect me from experiencing the same thing. I think, in a strange way, she thought that putting her happiness on a back burner would be the best thing for me.”

  “Was she right?”

  I shrugged. “For the child me, yes. But for the adult me? I wish she’d had some happiness of her own. I wish she had someone now that she could count on.”

  “Maybe she does.”

  I shook my head. “She’s had this flirtation with the bookstore owner for years and years, but if anyone else had entered her life, I would know about it.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “I do. I never really let myself think about it until all this began to happen and the possibility of never seeing her again suddenly entered my realm of possibilities. But I do.”

  A touch of melancholy touched Amelia’s face. “I have two sisters and a mother I once adored more than life. But I never see them. My father … maybe when he dies things will change. But right now I can’t.”

  “I’m sorry.” I reached across the table and took her hand. “No one should have to walk away from family.”

  She smiled, but there was a fine sheen of tears in her eyes. “You’re lucky you have a mother who made you a priority in her life. You should try to see her when this thing is over.”

  “If it’s ever over.”

  Almost as if he’d heard me, a man moved up behind Amelia and flashed a gun, keeping it hidden under his hoodie but pointed at the back of her neck.

  “You’ll come with me, Mr. McGregor,” he said in a soft, polite voice.

  Amelia’s hand slipped under the table. I knew she had her weapon under the light jacket she was wearing—it’d been a bit of an issue while we were in the bookstore bathroom—but now was not the time for her to play hero. I widened my eyes and shook my head just barely, signaling her to stop. She hesitated and I thought for a moment she might disregard my warning. But then her hand came back to the top of the table.

  I studied the man’s face, wondering if I’d ever seen him before. But there was nothing familiar about him, nothing that screamed I knew him.

  I slowly got up, setting my pretzel on the top of the table and holding my hands where he could see them. He gestured to the left, toward a long hall that led to an exit door. I waited until Amelia was on her feet, moving ahead of the man who placed a hand on her upper arm. He stayed close behind her as we walked, prepared to put a bullet in her back if I attempted to flee.

  I wasn’t going anywhere.

  We passed small children and harried executives as we walked down the corridor, nearly colliding with an elderly man trying to find something on the wide, unhelpful map of the mall. Amelia pushed open the exit door, glancing at me as she did. There was no fear in her eyes, just anger and a driving need to do something. I was so afraid that need would push her to do something that would get her killed.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, sliding to my left as we passed a young couple with a baby in a stroller.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  We came to the curb and I pretended to trip, forcing myself between the gunman and Amelia. I slipped the gun out of her waistband and into my own, tugging at the hoodie I was wearing, zipping it up so that it covered the bulge.

  “Watch yourself,” the gunman grumbled.

  He led the way to a small truck a hundred yards away in the parking lot. Amelia sat in the middle on the bench seat and I was by the passenger side door. It crossed my mind to jump out as the
gunman sped into traffic on a side road, but I couldn’t take the chance of leaving Amelia behind.

  “Who are you?” Amelia asked. “Who are you with?”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  “Are you with Johnson? Or Ms. O’Bannon’s group?”

  The man seemed a little startled at the question, but he didn’t answer.

  I slid my hand through Amelia’s and pulled hers onto my lap, hiding the bulge under my hoodie with our arms. The guy glanced at us and snickered.

  “You’re not smart,” he informed me, “falling for your bodyguard. You have to know that we can’t allow her to go back to Houston.”

  “I doubt you’ll allow either of us to go back.”

  “That’s true enough. But we still have use for you. My bosses want your code.”

  “Why haven’t they taken it?”

  “I’m sure you know the answer to that.”

  Amelia’s eyebrows rose as she met my eye. We had an answer to her question, whether the gunman realized he’d given it or not.

  Johnson was behind this. Did that mean they were behind the bus accident, too? Or was that just a coincidence?

  “They want me alive to find the code. What happens after that?”

  The gunman shrugged. “Not my problem. All I know is I’m supposed to deliver you to the airport. What happens from there is your problem.”

  “What airport?”

  The man didn’t answer.

  “Both of us?”

  The gunman glanced at Amelia in the rearview mirror, a salacious look coming into his eyes.

  “The girl gets to stay with me.”

  Cold fingers began to dance in my belly at the implication of that simple statement. Amelia’s grip on my hand tightened for an instant, but she seemed to have no other reaction.

  I wasn’t going to let this happen. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her because of me.

  I slid my hand under my hoodie and gripped the handle of the gun. I don’t know if Amelia simply didn’t see the movement or if she was on the same page as me, but she didn’t react. I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

  It was all or nothing now.

  Chapter 19

  Amelia

  I knew it wasn’t possible, but a part of me was hoping that Hayden was in a car behind us, rushing to catch up. I was hoping that he’d gotten to Orlando in time or that he’d sent someone else who’d gotten there in time. I hoped we had backup coming quick.

  I was afraid Rowan was about to do something he would forever regret.

  He didn’t know, but I’d slipped into a restroom at the mall and called Hayden, told him where we were and what we were up to. I was afraid Rowan would balk if I told him what I’d done. He was so skittish already, I didn’t want to make him more nervous. He didn’t trust Hayden. That much was clear to me. If he did, he would have called him when I went into my little recovery coma. I had few memories of the days I was out, but I did remember telling him the number at one point.

  At least, I think I did.

  I wasn’t worried about myself. I could take care of myself. Once I was alone with this guy he’d regret the day he thought he could overpower me. I was more worried that Rowan would get on a plane and I’d never see him again. I was worried that someone would become so frustrated with whatever he’d done with the code that they’d put a bullet in his head and we’d find him some weeks down the road, no longer the man I was quickly falling head over heels for.

  And I was. I was falling so hard in love with Rowan that it was beginning to cloud my judgment.

  I had to get us to safety even if it meant letting him pull a gun on a cold killer.

  I felt his hand move under his hoodie, pulling the gun free of his pants. I shifted slowly so that the gunman wouldn’t notice, creating a space behind my back for Rowan to hide the gun. He read my intentions clearly and slipped the barrel of the gun into the space, his hand hidden from view by my body. The gunman seemed to be looking for something, slowing the truck as he came to an intersection up ahead.

  Shoot!

  Rowan’s hand shook a little against my back, his nerves clearly getting the better of him. But I couldn’t do anything to help. If I’d taken the gun the gunman would have noticed and he would have fought. We couldn’t afford a struggle in the cab of this truck. It could lead to one of us getting struck with a stray bullet.

  Shoot, shoot, shoot!

  But still he hesitated. I glanced at him, but he was staring straight forward, clearly working up the courage to do what needed to be done. I squeezed his thigh, encouraging him.

  And then we flew forward. I hit my arm on the dashboard, my neck snapping forward. I didn’t understand at first what had happened. Then the truck swerved sideways and we were tipping, about to fall on our side.

  I twisted, snatching the gun out of Rowan’s hand. Glass exploded as the truck landed hard on the driver’s side door. The driver head his head on the asphalt, a sound I would never forget coming from his lips. And then everything was silent.

  It took a moment for the shock of momentum to wear off. I pushed at Rowan, shaking him back to reality.

  “We have to get out.”

  He nodded, unhooking his seatbelt as he tried to brace himself on the door handle. He slid onto me, crushing me against the gunman, who was motionless. Rowan caught himself with his feet against the center console and began to work the door, managing to get it open. He pulled himself up with his hands, the relief of his weight lifting off of me more than I could ever express. He reached back inside and pulled me out just as a man came running up to the truck.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded. “I looked away for a second. I didn’t realize you were there!”

  I ignored him as I slipped the gun into my waistband again. I looked around, trying to figure out where the hell we were. In just a short time we’d gotten outside the city limits on a long stretch of road that seemed to travel off into the sunset. But then the low drone of an engine above us reminded me he’d been taking us to an airport. We must have been close.

  “We have to go,” I said to Rowan. “If his friends are already here—”

  Rowan didn’t wait for me to finish. He grabbed my hand and ran, pulling me toward the sedan that was idling a few feet behind the truck. The front bumper was bent, the hood puckered a little in the center from the impact, but it appeared to still be drivable.

  We jumped inside before the owner realized what we were doing, speeding around him as he stared disbelievingly. He yelled after us, but much too late to do anything to stop us.

  I was driving and Rowan was working the GPS on the dashboard in front of us. He pointed toward a side road.

  “There’s a turn up ahead about a mile that’ll take us back to downtown Orlando.”

  I made the turn too fast, lifting the car onto its wheels. Rowan held on, his eyes a little wild as he focused on me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “I should have taken the shot.”

  I shook my head. “I’m glad you didn’t. You would have had to live with that for the rest of your life.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t seem too happy with himself.

  I slowed the car, making the next turn at a normal rate of speed. I reached over and took his hand.

  “I’ve shot my weapon on multiple occasions, but I’ve only hit a person once that I’m aware of it. It was not long after I went to work for Dragon and I was protecting a woman who was being stalked by a crazy ex. I shot him because he wouldn’t back down. He’d hit her and he had raised his hand to hit her again despite my warnings. So I shot him. In the arm. But it was a moment that replays itself over and over again in my mind.

  “I could have killed him. I could have maimed him for life. As it was, I shattered his ulna. He had to have surgery and was in a cast for more than six months. And that weighed heavily on me.” I squeezed his hand. “If you’d fired in that confined a space, you would have done
a lot of damage.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

  We arrived in downtown Orlando and found a parking garage in which we could leave the car. We walked away quickly, wandering the busy streets in the dark, searching for a place to take a deep breath. We ended up in a bar attached to a swanky hotel, seated at a low table at the back of the crowded room.

  “I need to call Hayden.”

  Rowan’s expression tightened, but he nodded.

  I tugged the prepaid cellphone out of my pocket and dialed the number I knew better than my own. Hayden’s voice filled my ear and it was a relief, but not for the reasons it might once have been. I was relieved to feel that lifeline between us, to know that he would do all he could to get us out of this alive and safe. But that was all.

  “We were hit at the mall. We’re in a bar now.”

  “Kasey’s on his way. What’s the address?”

  I spoke it quickly, having noted it as we walked in.

  “Give him twenty minutes. If he’s not there in that time, move on and contact me again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I disconnected the call and lifted the soda a waitress had just set before me. It was the sweetest, most delicious swallow of liquid I think I’d ever had.

  “So?”

  “Someone’s on the way.”

  “And then?”

  “And then he’ll put us in protective custody and we’ll be okay.”

  “And then?”

  He was watching me with an intensity I didn’t understand. I reached for his hands but he pulled them away, hiding them under the table.

  “Tell me what happens when all of this is over, Amelia.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. We clear your name and—”

  “I don’t mean that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His gaze dropped to the table, to the phone I’d just set there, my lifeline to Hayden. It was then that a little tickle began in my chest, a bit of amusement mixed with awe that this man would actually be jealous of anything, let alone a schoolgirl crush.