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Billionaire Bodyguard

Page 8

by Kristi Avalon


  Devon grasped his arm, tugging him until he stopped to shake her off. “What?”

  “Listen to me. Your girl is scared to death and she should be. Trevor’s a pro. I’ve never seen anything like him.” Devon’s dark eyes widened. “Did you know the first year of their divorce she took out three restraining orders on Trevor Hurtz—and he broke every one?”

  Logan’s jaw clenched. “Come with me.”

  Devon’s heels clicked behind him. Reaching the end of the hall, he shoved into Rick’s office and pointed a finger at his chest. “You just hit a hornet’s nest with a sledge hammer.”

  “I’ll say.” Devon set her hands on her hips. “I hope you’re happy, Dunn. Because whatever favor you thought you were doing for Logan has jeopardized this entire company.”

  “You’ve backed us into a corner,” Logan stated.

  Rick glared. “Now you two think Allison walks on water, and I’m the problem?”

  “Yes,” Logan and Devon said simultaneously.

  Rick’s nostrils flared. “She turned both of you against me.” He grunted. “Should’ve seen that coming.”

  “What you didn’t see coming,” Logan said, getting in Rick’s face, “is a man who’ll stop at nothing to find and take back what he thinks is his.”

  Rick scoffed. “Let him have her. One less thing to worry about.”

  Logan’s chest heaved at the idea. “No way in hell.”

  Devon paced, her hands waving frantically. “Of all the days to take your idiot pill, Rick, you pick this one.”

  Rick crossed his arms. “It can’t be that big a deal.”

  Logan sent him a look threatening dismemberment. “You have no goddamn idea.”

  “Out of my way.” Devon bumped Rick aside and commandeered his laptop. “I’ll show you what you’ve done.” She talked as she typed. “ARIN.net maintains records of owners of all IP addresses.”

  Rick lowered his eyebrows doubtfully. “Every single one?”

  “Here’s Stone Security’s chunk of the ARIN pie.” She showed them the ongoing list of addresses for all the people in the company and affiliated with them.

  Rick shrugged. “So?”

  “Each time you clicked on Trevor Hurtz’s name, an alert was sent to one IP address. I tracked it as far as I could, but it leads to the Caribbean. The Bermuda Triangle of IP addresses. The address is untraceable, but I’ll bet you coconuts to cow turds it belongs to Trevor Hurtz.” Devon stared at Rick pointedly. “That means with each search you made on Trevor, you left a breadcrumb trail right back to Stone Security. Won’t take him more than a week to connect the dots and realize Allison is here.”

  Rick balked. “All that, from a few searches?”

  “That,” Devon scolded, “is why I’m chief information officer, not you.”

  Rick cursed softly. “I was just trying to—”

  “Help,” Logan supplied. “I know, but this could turn ugly. Fast.”

  “Now that you both have a heads-up, I’m going back to my office to run a few programs, see if I can’t head him off at the pass.” Devon shrugged. “Wherever that is.” She swept out of the room on a mission.

  Rick rubbed his scalding red neck. “Look, Logan…”

  Arms crossed, Logan waited.

  “I’m sorry, man. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. It’s not like I hacked into the CIA.”

  “Maybe you should’ve. Then we’d know what we’re really up against with Hurtz.”

  “I’ll make some calls.” Rick grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed a memorized number. “Some people still owe me favors in the Pentagon.”

  Thirty minutes later, with the help of old contacts, Logan and Rick pieced together enough information to map out a solution. One that required around-the-clock protection for Allison.

  Rick scrubbed a hand down his face. He said raggedly, “I had no idea her ex was a bona fide psycho.”

  Logan released a heavy sigh. “Can you blame her for wanting to keep it quiet? Anyone who gets too close or asks too many questions faces a world of hurt he never saw coming.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “The only thing I can.” Logan shrugged. “I’m moving her in with me.”

  Rick coughed. “You’re kidding.”

  “Care to test that?”

  At the steely response, Rick held up his hands. “Okay, fine. Not joking. But don’t you think—”

  “Haven’t you given enough bad advice for one day?”

  Sitting back, Rick stared mutely at his desk.

  Logan stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Now I just need to convince the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met that, to stay safe, I’m her only option.”

  This is one argument I look forward to winning . As he left Rick’s office, resolution forged inside him. He nodded to the security guard stationed outside his door. Mind whirling with lawyer-like precision, he walked through his door.

  His office was empty. He stopped, looked at the door, looked back at the vacant room. He confronted the guard. “Where is she?”

  “You mean the blonde? She was late for an appointment.”

  “And you let her leave?” Logan roared. “Your orders were not to let anyone in or out . How was that unclear?”

  The man paled. “She—I—she said she had a plane to catch, and if I didn’t let her leave I’d foot her bill. She told me the office would be safe.”

  “It isn’t my office I care about.” Damn it . “Get out of here,” he ordered the guard.

  The guard managed to follow that directive. Logan slammed his door. Then opened it again and stalked toward Allison’s office. He found it empty. He bit his thumb nail as he paced. He returned to his office and logged into his personal Stone Security account, standing as he typed. He’d put Allison on his account number when he’d upgraded the system in her apartment. He didn’t want her paying for safety he would give her for free. It also sent him alerts if her system was breached.

  At the time, he hadn’t expected to use the information to spy on her, but this was important. He wasn’t going to let her take off to God-knew-where before they had a chance to talk. Come up with options. Discuss and make decisions together. He had a say in his child’s future. Allison’s days of flying solo were over.

  He accessed the online feed, waited for the download then checked her system’s history. She hadn’t set the code since eight that morning. She hadn’t gone home. He didn’t blame her, with Hurtz now lurking in her subconscious fears. Logan programmed any change in her system’s status to send a text to his cell phone.

  His mind churned, grasping for options. He needed someone with connections to air travel. He scrolled through his phone’s contacts list until he found a number he hadn’t dialed in a while. The line picked up.

  “Angie, it’s Logan Stone.”

  “Well, hey there, gorgeous,” Angie purred on the other end. “It’s about time you called.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Mmm, me too.” She gave a silky laugh. “I’m between flights in Houston. Give me two hours to arrange travel to Denver. Your house, around eight?”

  Logan arched an eyebrow. “Uh, no. Not that kind of favor.”

  “That’s a shame,” she pouted. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, what else can I help you with?”

  “I need you to check international travel out of Denver. Flights leaving between five and midnight. Passenger name is Allison Dupree.” Then he added, “Or Allison Hurtz.” He wanted to cover all bases.

  Angie paused. “Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Angie.”

  “You owe me.” Her insinuation left him cold. He punched the end-call button.

  Strange, how a woman who’d once turned him on meant nothing. Angie was a good-looking redhead, with a body that wouldn’t quit, but his libido’s former response didn’t register, not even a flicker of appeal.

  That was new.

  He ran a hand down his face. Damn, Ri
ck was right. Allison had gotten to him on a level that didn’t compare to other women. She was the one he wanted, the only one who made him burn with need. Where the hell was she?

  After twenty minutes, Angie called back. Logan gripped his phone. “Anything?”

  “Sorry, Logan. There’s no one named Dupree or Hurtz with a plane ticket for a flight out of Denver tonight.”

  Relief poured through him. “That’s good news. Thanks, Angie.”

  “Call me again, sometime—?”

  Logan hung up before she finished her sentence. Rude, considering the weight she’d lifted off his mind. But a new weight took its place.

  He had a missing pregnant woman on his hands.

  He moved down the hall toward Devon’s office. She was his go-to girl when he needed help with the female psyche.

  Devon’s chair was empty, her coat and laptop gone. “Did everyone suddenly take the afternoon off?” He looked at his watch. It was four-thirty. He made a sound of frustration.

  He wondered who Allison would turn to in Denver if she had a problem. Obviously, it wasn’t him. The answer stared him in the face, in the form of Devon’s empty seat. Devon wouldn’t side against him.

  Would she?

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. He grabbed his coat, yanked out his car keys then hit speed-dial on his phone.

  Only one way to find out .

  *

  “One night, Devon. That’s all I’m asking.” Allison tried not to sound desperate.

  She hated turning to anyone for help. However, she needed a safe place to mull over recent experiences—not alone in her apartment. Right now she didn’t know which way was up, or how to find the light at the end of this dark tunnel.

  “I’m not ready to face Logan yet.” Or what will happen when he changes his mind about me . Her ex-husband had driven it into her like a stake through her chest that no man could tolerate her, except him.

  Devon sighed. “I’m not good at playing the go-between. I have too much of an opinion.”

  “I respect that,” Allison said. “I’m not trying to put a wedge between you and Logan. I just need time.”

  “How much time?” Devon asked as she poured herself a glass of red wine.

  “Until I have it figured out.”

  “That may not happen.”

  “I’ll be closer to the answer tomorrow.” She needed a buffer between Logan’s strong-willed personality and her own uncertain stance. Why couldn’t he be a jerk, denied paternity and left her free and clear?

  The warm white furball that was Devon’s little Yorkie put its head on Allison’s lap, staring up at her with big, dark, soulful eyes. He nudged her hand with his wet nose, then dozed blissfully as she petted him. “See? Peanut believes me.”

  “Peanut’s loyalty lies with whoever has bacon or pets him.” Devon’s cell phone buzzed across her kitchen counter like a Mexican jumping bean. “It’s Logan again.”

  “Don’t answer it.”

  “I have to before he wears out my charge. You know how stubborn he is.”

  “I’m well aware,” Allison said wearily.

  “Then own up to it and make your own demands. He doesn’t have to call all the shots.”

  “He can’t help himself.”

  “If you don’t talk to him, nothing will be solved.”

  Allison clenched her hands in the fleece. “Fine, give me the phone.”

  Devon tossed it to her like a hot potato. The second it buzzed in her hand, Allison flinched. Hesitantly, she answered. “Hello.”

  “Do you have any idea how worried I am about you?” Logan stormed out of the gate. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m hanging in there, thanks for asking.” Disdain dripped from her tone. “It’s nice to hear from you, too.”

  “You and I need to have a conversation. Now.”

  “I don’t take well to commands,” she replied crisply.

  “It’s a lot better than what’s coming.”

  Rising stomach acid left a sting in her throat. “Don’t threaten me.”

  “I meant I’m a better alternative than your ex-husband.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “Allison.” He exhaled. “Don’t you know by now I’m on your side?”

  “That remains to be seen.” Didn’t he understand by now she failed at relationships?

  “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “Space. Time. Sorry, is that too much to ask?”

  “You’ve had twenty-four hours to process this pregnancy bombshell, and you’re running scared. I’ve had two hours and I’m totally fine with it.”

  “You’re special. Congratulations.”

  He ignored the sarcasm. “Give me a chance, Allison. We can make this work.”

  Tears collected behind her eyes. “How?”

  “That’s what we have the next nine months to figure out.” A smile tinted his words. She didn’t share his amusement. Then he added, “Trust me.”

  The absolute wrong thing to say. Her defenses shot up, a storm gathering inside her. “Trust you? After you sided with Rick against me? You threw me under the bus, Logan. Like you did last night.” She swallowed hard. “You didn’t even talk to me before you took a Rototiller to my past and dragged out the skeletal remains of my marriage. It never occurred to you to ask?”

  “Any time I did, you shut me out.” Logan’s temper was rising. “I made a mistake. I didn’t know the whole story.”

  He had a point. She was good at shutting down when a man came too close or meant too much. Her defenses didn’t care to debate the issue. “When I decide to trust someone, I’ll know that trust isn’t conditional.”

  After a pause, Logan stated softly, “Stick around, and I’ll prove it to you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He scoffed with disbelief. “So you won’t talk to me. You won’t give me a chance to figure things out with you.”

  “Tonight? No.” Dead silence met her statement. The pause lengthened to the point of uncomfortable. “Logan?”

  “Oh, I’m here.” He was not happy. “You know what? You go ahead. Take all the time in the world. I’ll just do what I have to do.”

  “What does that mean—?”

  Click . Dial tone.

  Allison stared at the phone, then at Devon. “He hung up on me.”

  Devon released a dramatic sigh. “I admit it’s frustrating to sit on the sidelines watching the game being played all wrong. On the other hand, people have to figure the rules out for themselves.

  Allison nodded. “Thank you.”

  Devon pushed away from her kitchen counter. “Now what? We sit around shoving our faces with popcorn and watching chick flicks all night?”

  Nerves relaxing, Allison gave a cheeky grin. “Sounds perfect.”

  Rolling her eyes, Devon set her wine on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. “Can’t I sell you on an intergalactic space battle?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about a good down and dirty thriller?”

  Allison cringed. “No way.”

  “Chick flicks it is.” Devon grabbed the remote. A wink ruined her scowl. “The things I do for friends.”

  *

  The next morning, Allison shut her car door and stood before her apartment building. The pale November sunrise leaked through the clouds like puss from a bruise. A shaky feeling started in her gut and radiated to every limb. She shivered uncontrollably.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The knowing began when she woke an hour ago in unfamiliar surroundings. Even though Devon’s beautiful townhouse was a hundred times better than the sterile box Allison called home, she’d broken into a cold sweat when she’d jerked awake and couldn’t place where she was. In the darkness, it had all come flooding back. Her heart had pounded recklessly, recalling yesterday’s events. Her fears of Logan’s reaction to her pregnancy. Her disbelief in his acceptance. Learning Rick had dragged her ex-husband back into her life, shredding the years of sol
itary confinement and vigilance she’d perfected. All so Rick could prove she was an imposter. And in a way, she was. Rick didn’t need to go digging. She’d faked normalcy for so long that living a lie was natural. She’d shoved down her own hopes and desires, waiting until she stepped off the plane in Paris to reinvent herself.

  Now, there was no chance of starting over clean and safe and free.

  Devon was right. Logan would never let her go.

  Allison felt trapped all over again.

  Staring up at the door of her apartment, she willed herself to move forward. Dread dragged her feet as she climbed the stairs. She wondered, could Trevor have located her by now?

  Imagination taking over, she could almost see the shadows give way as she opened the door, revealing the cold dark eyes of true evil. Trevor’s form sitting on her couch, deceptively relaxed as she walked in and met his unholy grin, as he said, “Welcome home, wife.”

  A shiver trembled across her shoulders. She paused on the landing. She wanted to call Logan, knowing if anything happened he’d move the Rocky Mountains to get between her and harm’s way.

  The thought struck a chord of bravery inside her. She didn’t need a man to chase away her ghosts. This was her place, she was in control.

  She marched up to the door. She unlocked the deadbolts and pushed inside, ready to confront the devil himself.

  The scene before her was nothing like she’d pictured. Her jaw dropped.

  Her apartment was empty. Cleaned out. A few lazy specks of dust drifted in and out of the morning light. That was all.

  “What the…?”

  Immediately, she went to her security alarm. The system hummed along innocently, unaware of her shock and incomprehension.

  “Hello?” she called out. Empty echoes returned to her.

  Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she clutched it like a defensive weapon, prepared for whatever might leap out of the shadows. Nothing did. She confirmed her entire apartment was barren, devoid of any proof she’d ever been there at all.

  A tiny crack edged its way up the center of her heart. Bereft of the few belongings she owned, she might as well have been wiped off the face of the earth.

  Her arm dropped to her side, purse dragging on the floor. Her spirit deflated as if the wind of endurance had abandoned her sails. “Who could’ve done this?”

 

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