Silver Shield Security Box Set

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Derek looked up from the memo on his screen and nodded, “Sure.”

  “The truth is, I am a programmer. But I’m also here as Hope’s bodyguard.” Rusty sat at the edge of Derek’s desk and carefully watched the man’s reaction.

  Derek looked surprised, “Hope needs a bodyguard?” Then a look of concern crossed his face. “Hope needs a bodyguard! Ohmygosh! Is she okay? Is she in trouble?” He half got out of his seat, but Rusty gently pushed him back.

  “Calm down, dude. It’s not exactly serious, but they decided to take precautions.”

  “Okay, I get that. But what happened?”

  “She said something about an athletic cup fan.”

  Derek threw back his head and laughed, “The athletic cup fan…oh god…how can I ever forget that? You should have seen the look on Hope’s face, she didn’t even know what it was. I had to explain it to her.”

  “Really?” Rusty found that hard to believe.

  “Believe me, it’s true. She runs this stuff, but if you know how ignorant she is about lots of the stuff…we run a porno department yeah, because there was a lot of demand for it and frankly, it’s our fastest cash spinner. Hope hates going there, but she’s the boss so she does what she has to do.”

  Rusty noted the use of we in Derek’s speech. He spoke like he had a personal stake in the business. He wondered if the man was a shareholder or if Hope and Jared did such a good job of creating a sense of belonging among their staff. He rather suspected the latter.

  “So what happened to the stuff?” he asked, referring to the cup.

  “Oh, Hope asked me to burn it.”

  “And did you?”

  Derek’s eyes shifted away for a moment and then he sighed, “Oh what the hell. Of course I didn’t. I was dating this man then and it sure came in useful, if you know what I mean.” He winked his eyebrows.

  Rusty could not hide his surprise. “You’re gay?” He glanced at the man. Derek was stylishly dressed and all, but he did not give off those vibes.

  “Umm, not really. I swing both ways.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, now please tell me about that crazed fan. What’s going on?”

  Rusty debated how much to tell him, and decided that he could reveal almost all of their cover story.

  “There was an attempted break-in at Hope’s house the other day. Luckily the cops were able to stop that, but they didn’t get the man.”

  “And Hope thinks it might be the same guy?” Derek asked in surprise.

  “Yep. So Jared suggested that she gets a bodyguard.”

  “And she agreed to that?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?” Rusty wanted to know.

  “You don’t know Hope; she hates having people in her house. And you’re going to have to be living there for a while, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then this is more serious than you’re letting on.” Derek got to his feet and began to pace. “Hope must be in a lot of trouble if she’s letting you shadow her movements. She won’t even let Jared know all about her, I’ve never met a more private person.”

  “But doesn’t she date?”

  Derek paused midstride and looked at Rusty in shock. “Date? Hope?” Then he laughed. “Hell no. That woman is a workaholic and does not have the time to date.” He looked at Rusty with pity. “I almost feel sorry for you. You’re going to be stuck here at all sorts of odd hours.”

  Rusty didn’t know what to make of that information. It was totally at odds with the woman he’d seen at Bespoke that night. On a purely personal level, he wanted to ask some more questions, dig a little. But he held back.

  “Don’t you stay back as well, seeing as you’re her assistant and all?”

  “Are you kidding? That’s when she writes her programs, and she does not like anyone else around.”

  In other words, she was a sitting duck. Rusty could not believe how vulnerable the woman was. It would not be too difficult for anyone interested enough to learn her habits or whereabouts.

  He made a mental note to discuss with Emily ways they could make her more secure. He had no doubt that her personal safety was at stake. Going by what Emily had told him about the November twenty-ninth message, whoever was behind this was most likely motivated by revenge and it wouldn’t be long before he or she came after Hope.

  Much later, after everyone else had left for the day, Rusty saw that it was getting dark outside. When Hope showed no sign of being done, he checked his watch and saw that it was almost eight p.m.

  He tapped on her door and walked in. Hope lifted her head and frowned at him like she was confused about how he got there.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  She was wearing glasses and he thought she looked really cute.

  “You should be heading home. It’s getting dark outside.”

  “What’s the time?” she asked then glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. “Shit! I’m going to be late.”

  She jumped up and began to gather her stuff, quickly shoving a notebook and some papers into a bag.

  “Where are you going?”

  She paused and stared at him. “I’m sorry, but that’s not your business.”

  She kept her tone pleasant, but he could see the annoyance deep in her eyes. It was almost as though she wore the pleasant politeness like protective gear. He wondered how she would be if she really let herself go and gave in to the person he sensed beneath the politeness. Well, that was not part of his job description, but keeping tabs on her movement was.

  “I’m afraid it is. I’m your bodyguard so I’ll be following you everywhere until this is over.”

  She went pale. “Everywhere?”

  “Everywhere.”

  She moistened her lips in a suddenly nervous action. He could see she was trying to make up her mind about something.

  “Dammit! I can’t cancel,” she muttered. “Fine, come along then.”

  **

  Hope walked into her therapist’s office with Rusty close on her heels. She did not want to think of the fact that he was there with her, even if he was going to be at the waiting room the whole time.

  She smiled at the perky blonde woman that worked the front desk. “Hey, Pamela, sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Hi, Hope, no worries. Dr. Parker will see you now. You sign this for me and then go right in,” Pamela said, extending the necessary papers with a smile.

  “Thanks,” Hope said, quickly filling in the papers. She turned to Rusty. “I’ll be a while.” She wanted to ask him to go on home, but she knew he wouldn’t budge.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got some stuff to take care of,” he said, waving his tablet slightly.

  She hesitated a beat then shrugged. He was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

  “Hello, Hope, glad you could make it,” Dr. Parker said with a warm smile.

  Marisol Parker was a slight woman with hair she’d dyed silver and packed into a bun. She was in her late thirties and had intelligent eyes that smiled at Hope.

  “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Parker,” she apologized, as she returned the smile. She really liked Dr. Parker and looked forward to their sessions.

  “It’s fine. You’re just a few minutes late. Did you remember to sign with reception?” At Hope’s nod, she gestured to the chair. “Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Hope nodded and sat on the armchair. The other woman sat. They were not exactly facing each other and they weren’t sitting side by side. The arrangement was such that they could see their faces without being in each other’s face. Hope found that very relaxing.

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like some water?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I haven’t seen you in a while,” she added.

  She had not been to her therapist in several months. She hadn’t felt the need to. The recent events must have really gotten to her.

&nbs
p; “I got really busy and with the techniques you taught me, I’ve really been fine.”

  Dr. Parker nodded. “So are you fine now?

  She got comfortable on the armchair and tried to martial her thoughts. She knew the drill. Dr. Parker would wait for her to speak. There was so much going on in her life at the moment what with the possible threat to her business and the intruder, she did not know where to begin.

  “I don’t know where to start from,” she admitted with a smile.

  “Wherever you feel comfortable.”

  “I met a man,” Hope blurted out, then gasped. She had not planned on saying that.

  “Tell me about him,” Dr. Parker encouraged.

  Hope groaned, “That was not what I was going to say, but I might as well begin there.” She paused and thought back to that night at Bespoke Club. “I went to the night club with Jared because I’d had a really freaky week. And I saw this man, really good looking and buff, you know the kind. I smiled at him and he gave me this look…” She stopped, the memory of the look still having the power to hurt her.

  She shook her head and continued. “He looked at me the way people used to look at me as a teenager. Like I was trash. I could understand it then because I was not sexually discriminating. Who am I fooling—you already know I was promiscuous.” She held up her hand. “I’m not judging myself or making excuses. I understand why I was that way and I’ve made my peace with who I was. It’s just, the way he looked at me that night made me feel diminished somehow.”

  Dr. Parker nodded.

  “It shouldn’t bother me. He did not mean anything to me and I didn’t know him. Normally, I just dismiss stuff like that and move on. But this happened more than a week ago and it’s still eating me raw inside.”

  Dr. Parker took out a pen and wrote something on her notepad then looked up. “Do you want to tell me what made your week so freaky?”

  “Sure. Mostly it was work stuff, but then one night as I was about to leave for home, one of the awnings almost came down on me. I missed it by a hair. That same night, the brakes on my car didn’t hold and I was almost in an accident. Then to cap it all, an intruder tried to get into my house. It was just a really stressful week.”

  “So you’re saying that you had a high intensity week in terms of the stress factors, and then when you met someone who looked at you in a way that reminded you of your past, you were unable to shake it off?”

  Hope thought about it and nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened.”

  “Why do you think you reacted so strongly to the man, he was a stranger, right?”

  For the next hour, Hope talked about her fear of not meeting the expectations she’d set for herself. With the help of Jared and a number of therapists she’d seen over the years, she had turned her life around. She was no longer the angry teenager she’d been, intent on self-destruction. She had created a decent life for herself, one she was damned proud of, but there was always the self-doubt lurking somewhere inside.

  She talked about the panic attack as well.

  “You haven’t experienced one in more than a year if I’m correct?” Dr. Parker asked.

  “Yes, you are. But this was a direct reminder of my past.”

  “Is this something I know about?”

  “Yeah. It’s the November twenty-ninth incident.”

  Dr. Parker went still. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Hope paused. “Not at this time.”

  “That’s okay. Now I want you to think carefully before you answer this question. I’m sure that man was not the first person to look at you that way. Do you think it was the stress you felt that affected you so much? Before you answer that…you also mentioned that you were attracted to him and you let him know. Could it be the rejection that stung even more than the way he looked at you?”

  Hope left Dr. Parker’s office that night with more questions than when she walked in, but she no longer felt the burn that thoughts of that night at the club had elicited. She knew that the problem was not with Rusty. People had their prejudices and his could have stemmed from past experiences. She could not make herself responsible for the way everyone felt or looked at her.

  Dr. Parker had reminded her of a quote she’d given her during their first session. It was by Viktor Frankl and said something about the last human freedom being the freedom to choose how we responded to what happens to us. She had the right to choose her attitude and that was where the problem was. She had over-reacted. Understandable, but an over-reaction nevertheless.

  She knew she was going to have to do a lot of soul searching when she got back home.

  **

  She sat in the car some distance away from where they had parked and watched Hope as she stepped out of the building with the man. The place was well lit so she could see them clearly. She could not hear what they were saying, but the man said something and Hope looked up at him with a smile.

  She clenched her fist in rage. Hope C. Conran had destroyed her life and now the fat bitch was there, living a fantastic life at her expense. She thought she had it all, the bitch. With the company and the house and the cool car. Well, she was going to take it all. Every single damn thing. By the time she was done with her, Hope C. Conran would know how it felt to have your life destroyed totally and completely.

  It didn’t matter that she had that ex-military type following her around now. No one could protect the whore from her wrath. They would never see her coming. When it was time, she would strike and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

  With a grin that stretched from one end of her face to the other, she watched them drive past, then fired her engine and drove off in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day was a Saturday and Hope woke with a foggy feeling around her head. She lay back in bed and gazed sightlessly at the white ceiling. She could feel the black cloud softly descending, waiting to wrap its soul-destroying talons around her. She knew what she had to do. She needed to get up and get going. Maybe go for a run. Anything to shake off the blues before they turned into full-fledged depression.

  She hated physical exercise, but one time she did not hesitate to put on her running shoes was when she felt the darkness pulling at her. Then she would jump off the bed, get ready and go running for as long as it took to dispel the cloud.

  That day was different.

  She closed her eyes and for once, welcomed the darkness. She pulled it around herself like a familiar blanket and gave in to the fingers of despair that dug their nails into her. It was that time of the month again and she knew that fighting off the depression would be futile.

  After a few moments of just lying there, she reluctantly got up from the bed. She had gone to bed in yoga pants so she didn’t have to change. She had not forgotten that there was a male resident in her house, but it was not something she wanted to think about.

  Hope moved to the bathroom. As she put toothpaste on her toothbrush, she thought about the scheduled visit for later that week. She wished she could put it off or cancel it completely.

  She looked up into the mirror and was arrested by the look of longing in her eyes. She was such a sad, sad liar. There was no way she would have canceled those monthly visits even if she got the chance to do that. She practically lived for those visits. Those few moments she could spend with the woman who gave her life. What she hated more than anything was saying goodbye and leaving her there. She hated the ache in her chest, the ball of tears that stuck in her throat and stung her eyes. The feeling of vulnerability, like she was once again a little girl, wondering why she could not go home to her mom.

  That was what she hated about the visits. They left her in emotional turmoil and just when she was finally gaining her equilibrium, it was time for another visit.

  Each time she left her mother, she swore she was never going back. But she knew she couldn’t not go back. It wasn’t even an option. So she was going to spend the better part of the week on
the phone with her therapist as she got herself emotionally and mentally prepared for the visit.

  She rinsed her mouth and placed her toothbrush back in the holder, wondering how her life could be so orderly, so in control, except for that one part. Doctor Parker had told her that she needed to let go of the reins a little. That a bit of chaos was not a bad thing.

  Hope snorted at that.

  Right. Anyone who had lived through chaos and a life with no boundaries and no control would know that the biggest thing you could ever do for yourself was to find that control and once you did, never let it go.

  She walked back to the room, putting things away as she went. Her office table might be an almighty mess, but she liked things to be neat and tidy at home. Besides, she knew where everything was on her table.

  Suddenly her stomach rumbled. She remembered that she hadn’t had anything to eat the night before. She’d left the therapist and gone straight to her room. Now she needed to find something to eat. She grimaced at the thought. There was hardly anything in her fridge.

  She reached for her favorite cashmere sweater, a gift to herself on her last birthday and shrugged it on. It was a soft burnished brown color with tiny pearls as buttons. She tucked her hands into the soft pocket at the front then sighed. She took her hands out again. She really loved the sweater.

  She tugged on her hair with a disgusted sigh and made her way out of her room. As she walked the short distance to the stairs, she paused and listened. Her house felt like it always did, quiet and a little empty. She shrugged lightly, she liked it that way.

  She made her way down the stairs, past the living room and into the kitchen. There was no sign of the large man who was now her protector. She smiled cynically at the thought. The only honest relationship these days was the one you paid for, and she had forked out a small fortune to have him there. Ah well, it was well worth it. She hoped.