Defiance (The Protectors, Book 9)

by Sloane Kennedy

  “Fine,” I said with a nod. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. “But you limit yourself to only the people you need to talk to, and if you need to use the phone, you clear it through me first. I have a special secure line that isn’t traceable.”

  “Okay.” Nathan put the watch on. “What’s next? How are we going to find this guy?”

  His use of the word “we” sounded wrong to me, since I always worked alone, but I remembered his comment about needing to be a part of this…needing to be equal. “I have a couple of things I want to do to see if he’s hacked any of your accounts or any of the people closest to you. If I don’t find anything there, I’m going to set up a trap for him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Chances are he’s been watching you for a long time, and not just physically. Judging by the hardware he used the other night, he’s not your average stalker,” I hedged. “I’m probably not the only one who’s been monitoring your email and phone. If I can’t find him, I’ll bring him to me by sending messages that will indicate your location, only it won’t be your actual location.”

  “You’ll bait him?” he asked.

  I nodded. “He’ll think you’re holed up in a cheap motel somewhere. By now he’s figured out that you didn’t go to the cops to report the attack. And he’s probably gone back to your house and discovered you haven’t been back.”

  “Won’t he figure it out? I mean, he must have sensed the same thing about you…that you weren’t just some random guy.”

  “He was brazen enough to attack you in your home, Nathan. He wanted to send a message. Whatever his beef with you is, it’s not going to go away anytime soon. Either he’s getting paid a lot of money to take you out, or he’s got more personal reasons. In any case, he’s not going to let someone like me stand in his way. He’ll just come better prepared next time. And he doesn’t know what I’m capable of…at the most, he’ll assume I’m hired muscle and nothing more. I’ve been careful to make it look like the email you sent to Preston and your assistant came from a library in Charleston – he’ll think we’re still in the area but just lying low. And that we’re not smart enough to realize he’s monitoring you electronically.”

  “You’re giving him a false sense of security,” Nathan murmured with a nod of his head. “So you draw him out, and then what?”

  “How about we make that subject one of the ones I get to veto,” I offered.

  He tensed, but didn’t push the issue. Undoubtedly because I’d answered his question by not answering it.

  “Why not just let me draw him out?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Actually stick me in a motel room somewhere. Let him think I’m alone.”

  I began shaking my head before he even finished. “No.”

  “No? That’s it? What happened to equal participant?”

  “Putting yourself in a dangerous situation isn’t equal participation,” I snapped. “It’s stupidity.”

  He shook his head and drummed his fingers on the island. “Not going to work,” he muttered to himself.

  I knew I was overreacting, but the idea of him back in that fucker’s direct line of sight had me on edge. Especially since I didn’t know who I was dealing with. “Look, let me see what I can figure out and we’ll go from there,” I conceded. “If I think that I can’t draw the guy out on my own, I’ll…I’ll think about it, okay?” Even the words sounded wrong, but deep down, I knew Nathan was right. I needed the threat to him to be gone, and I needed it to happen soon.

  And not just because I wanted to fulfill my commitment to Dom and his nephew.

  Nathan nodded. “Can I take a look at my email now?”

  I nodded and led him to my office to get him set up with a computer.

  “Here,” Nathan said as he set the laptop down on the kitchen island. I was in the midst of preparing dinner, so I put down the knife I’d been using to chop vegetables and pulled the laptop around so I could see it. Nathan came around the island and pointed at the screen. “These are the emails I worked on,” he said as he put his finger on the tracking pad and moved the mouse to open the draft folder. “You can check the sent folder to see that I didn’t send anything without letting you look at it first.”

  “Not necessary,” I said. I only glanced at the emails in the draft folder before hitting the send button. It was a monumental effort on my part not to actually read them, but I’d had a lot of time to think about what Nathan had said. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him…I didn’t know how to trust, period. Even with Everett, it had taken me years to get to the point where I’d let him into my life. But there were things I still kept from him, and not just to protect him.

  I felt Nathan’s eyes on me as I turned the laptop back towards him and resumed cutting up the vegetables.

  “I also worked on a speech I have to give later this month...did you want to see it?”

  I shook my head. “Only if you need a second opinion on it.” I lifted my gaze and said, “And since we both know I’m pretty much the worst one to ask for a second opinion on a political speech….”

  Nathan smiled and I inwardly cursed the dreaded butterflies in my belly. Hadn’t felt those damn things since I’d been with David.

  “It’s not a political speech,” he said as he closed the computer.

  When he didn’t say anything else I said, “What kind of speech is it?”

  “Nothing,” he responded, shaking his head.

  “Tell me,” I urged.

  His pretty eyes settled on mine and I could see the uncertainty in them. God, I really was an asshole if he was this afraid to tell me something that clearly seemed to be both personal and important to him.

  “Tell me,” I repeated, softening my voice and stopping what I was doing.

  “It’s this career day thing for a youth center in Charleston. It specializes in helping homeless kids get off the street. I’ve been volunteering there for a while and the director asked me to give a speech about government service.”

  “You volunteer there?” I asked softly. “I didn’t see anything about that-” I stopped abruptly when I realized what I’d been about to say. I hadn’t seen evidence of that when I’d been digging into his personal life.

  “I don’t want people to know because then the center becomes the focus of reporters. And my opponent will say I’m there just to boost my image.”

  I wasn’t someone who surprised easily, but he’d managed it. “What kind of volunteering do you do?”

  Nathan shrugged. “Whatever they need. Legal stuff mostly. Sometimes just sitting and listening to the kids.”

  I knew Nathan was a lawyer, but I’d assumed he’d gotten the degree just so he could use it to get into office. I’d assumed a lot of things.

  “What are you making?”

  His question pulled me from my thoughts, especially the questions of self-doubt that had begun to pop into my head. What else had I gotten wrong about him? I’d only viewed him through the lens of financial accounts, emails, news articles and interviews…how much had I missed about the real Nathan Wilder?

  “Stir-fry,” I said.

  “Do you need help?”

  I didn’t, but something about this tiny moment of peace had me saying, “Would you mind emptying the dishwasher?”

  He nodded, and then he was pulling the dishes out and setting them on the counter. As I worked, I told him where things went. I was so distracted by the sight of him moving so comfortably around my kitchen, I lost track of the knife and let out a harsh curse when I felt the sharp blade slice into my finger.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as blood began welling up from the cut. It wasn’t overly deep, but I still felt foolish for even letting it happen. Especially considering why it had happened.

  “Damn,” Nathan said, and then he was grabbing my wrist and leading me to the sink. I barely noticed the cold water running over the wound as his warm fingers held onto my wrist to keep me from moving my hand.

/>   “You have a first aid kit?” he asked. When his eyes met mine, we both stilled as electricity charged the air around us. He swallowed hard and then forced his eyes down. “If it needs stitches, you’re on your own,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  But I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. I didn’t know why.

  His eyes lifted to mine again, probably at my lack of response, and I watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

  “First aid kit?” he said softly, distractedly.

  “Second drawer,” I said as I motioned to the cabinet behind him. I missed his touch when he released my hand to go get the kit. He grabbed it and then he was handing me a clean dishtowel. “Put pressure on it,” he offered.

  I certainly didn’t need to be told how to treat the minor injury, nor did I need him to dress it, but when he told me to sit down at the table, I did it anyway. And when he brought the second chair around to face the chair I was sitting in, I held my breath. Sure enough, when he sat, his legs shifted until one was between my legs. I barely heard anything he said as he carefully cleaned and dressed the wound, which wasn’t bad enough to warrant a stitch. It barely needed a Band-Aid, but something about him fussing over me was fucking with my head, and I found myself reluctant to tell him just to leave it alone.

  “Feel okay?” he asked when he finished putting the bandage in place.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly.

  Nathan was still holding onto my hand, even though he was finished, and I found myself reluctant to pull free of his hold. He was the one to move first, and I suspected that was because he was starting to feel the same charged energy surrounding us.

  “I’ll clean this up,” he said as he stood and then motioned to the small pile of vegetables. My senses cleared once he was out of my immediate reach, and I quickly closed up the first aid kit and returned it to the drawer while Nathan threw out the ruined vegetables and began washing the knife and cutting board. I’d cut enough vegetables that I could get started on the cooking and I did my best to ignore Nathan, even though his body was just inches from mine.

  It was strangely comforting to be working side by side with him. I was most definitely in lust with him, but even with the desire simmering between us like a live wire, I still found myself watching his movements as he cleaned the dishes and then began wiping down the sink. He kept casting me glances, but didn’t say anything.

  “You mind getting me the beef from the fridge?” I asked. Nathan nodded, and then he was moving to the refrigerator. I watched his eyes settle on the door for a moment and I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking it myself. How good it had been last night. I wondered if he was also thinking about how good it could be again. He cast me a glance over his shoulder, and I barely managed to hide my smile at the flush of color that stained his cheeks. When he returned to my side and handed me the bowl full of sliced beef, I had to remind myself why it would be a bad idea to let the bowl hit the floor and reach for him instead.

  “Thanks.”

  “Should I set the table?”

  The idea of being that close to him again had me shaking my head. If we ate at the table, he likely would end up bent over it this time around. But before I could suggest that we eat in the living room, which had enough furniture to ensure we didn’t end up anywhere near one another, my watch vibrated and I heard my phone beep. I glanced at my watch and recognized the code immediately.

  “Better set it for three,” I said as I turned the stove off so I wouldn’t burn the food while I greeted our unexpected guest.

  “Someone’s here?” Nathan asked, his voice carrying an edge of tension.

  “A friend,” I said. When he tilted his head at me, I knew what he was thinking. “Shut up, I have friends.”

  His lips curled into a smile and I wanted to curse the interruption.

  “Just…don’t freak out, okay?” I said as I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer.

  “Freak out? Why would I-”

  Nathan’s words were cut off when the front door opened. “You here, Vincent?”

  “In here, Ev.”

  I kept my eyes on Nathan and stifled a laugh when his mouth dropped open at the sight of our guest.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Everett, this is Nathan Wilder. Nathan, I’m guessing you don’t need the introduction, huh?”

  But Nathan didn’t respond to me, nor did he acknowledge I’d even spoken. I couldn’t really blame him. After all, it wasn’t every day the former president of the United States walked into your kitchen.

  Chapter 13

  Nathan

  “Oh my God,” I repeated stupidly, even as I automatically held out my hand to the man across from me. “Mr. President, it’s…it’s an honor.”

  “Honor’s all mine, Mr. Wilder.”

  I doubted that, but I was still too awestruck to say anything besides, “Call me Nathan, please.”

  “Nathan, it’s a pleasure. Please, call me Everett.”

  There was no fucking way I could call him that. I watched in stunned disbelief as Vincent handed the man a bottle of beer.

  The former leader of the free world drank beer. And he twisted the cap off like every other guy in America.

  And he somehow knew Vincent.

  “Mmmm, stir-fry?” Everett said as he eyed the stove.

  “Yep,” Vincent said, and then he was turning back to the stove and getting it going again.

  “You’re not putting any of that tofu shit in it, are you?” Everett asked as he took a long pull from the bottle.

  Holy hell, the president swore.

  “Why yes, Everett, you may join us for dinner. And no, it’s beef.”

  “Beef?” Everett said before letting out a low whistle. His eyes shifted to me and he said, “You must be special.”

  His comment sent a rush of heat through me. Did he somehow know what had happened between me and Vincent? Fuck, had Vincent told him? My eyes shifted to the man next to me.

  “He’s talking about the fact that I rarely eat red meat,” Vincent said calmly and then shot Everett a dark look. “Make yourself useful and set the table.”

  “The table?” the older man said. “Wow, really special,” he quipped as he shot me a smile and then actually winked at me.

  The former president of the fucking United States was taking orders from Vincent and he’d winked at me. What the hell alternate universe was I stuck in?

  “You know the president?” I whispered to Vincent once Everett was out of immediate earshot.

  “Clearly,” he said, and I fought the urge to punch him in the arm.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Then tell me the abbreviated version.”

  “Later,” he said. “Go talk politics – he loves that shit.”

  “I can’t talk politics with the president,” I said fiercely.

  Vincent laughed, actually laughed, and shook his head. “Fine, then talk about reality dance competitions. You’ll never get him to shut up.”

  “I heard that,” Everett said.

  “Should we set a place for Grady?” Vincent asked as he began sautéing the beef.

  Everett let out something that sounded like a mix between a curse and a growl. “Bastard took an early retirement. Moved to Florida to be closer to his seven grandkids. Can you believe that?”

  “That he moved to Florida?” Vincent drawled.

  “No, smartass, that he’s got seven grandkids.” Everett began plunking silverware down next to the plates. “He must have been practically a baby when he started having kids.”

  “Isn’t he like five years younger than you?” Vincent asked, a small smile flitting over his lips.

  “Seven years, you asshole. Which means he’s only a few years older than you. Seven grandkids.”

  It took me a moment to realize the men were grousing about their ages. From what Everett was saying, he was only ten years older than Vincent, which put him near the sixty mark.
While the man might not be as built as Vincent, he was still gorgeous. Thick, glossy salt-and-pepper hair, a little bit of scruff on his wide jaw, stunningly bright blue eyes, and a fit body that filled out his dress pants and button-up shirt beautifully. It wasn’t until I sensed Vincent’s eyes on me that I realized I’d been staring at the older man. Vincent’s knowing smile said he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.

  “They assigned me a new one.”

  “A new what?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t stepping on any toes. But I was completely clueless as to what they were talking about.

  “Secret Service agent,” Vincent responded.

  “The snot-nosed little shit’s turning the house upside down with all his security measures. He’s convinced I’m the target of the next great terrorist plot.”

  “Was there a threat or something?” I asked.

  Everett waved his hand as he returned to the island and took another swig of his beer. “He’s looking to prove himself. He pissed off some muckety mucks somewhere along the way and he’s doing time in purgatory.”

  “What did he do?” Vince asked.

  “Rumor has it, he slept with the VP’s daughter…the VP’s barely-legal daughter.”

  Vincent laughed before saying, “Fuck purgatory. He’s going to burn in suburbia until you send him into early retirement like you did Grady, or till you’re six feet under.”

  I watched in astonishment as Everett punched Vincent’s upper arm. “Nice,” he said. “And I didn’t drive Grady away. We had an understanding.”

  My belly did an insane flip-flop motion when Vincent cast his eyes in my direction and rolled his eyes.

  “You know new guy probably put a tracker on your car.”

  “Yeah, I know. That ungrateful shit Grady probably warned him I liked my alone time.”

  “Alone time?” I asked.

  “Everett has a habit of ditching his Secret Service detail. He ropes his household staff into helping him.”

  “Staff,” Everett snorted. “It’s Helga and Jeremiah,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You’re making me sound pretentious, Vincent.”