Witness Pursuit (Bodyguards #1)

He stared at it, his vision blurring, his mind shredding as every molecule in his body aggressively resisted the truth. He grabbed for air, his stomach heaving as a tidal wave of emotion rushed through him.

His mind filled with images, his blood on Lydia’s hands as she clung to him, and another of bark on the trunk of an oak tree. It scraped into his hands as he gripped it. His back throbbed with each breath he dragged in. So much pain, and Lydia and Jay screaming from where he had them squished between him and the tree. He had to keep them safe.

He bundled her closer. “Shh, Brigs will come.”

From across Lawntree’s yard, Brigs shouted. Help was on the way.

His legs buckled and he fell to his knees. He dragged Lydia and Jay with him, and as he did, a man in camouflage gear slid over the high wooden-slatted fence and slunk away.

The threat to Lydia was gone.

“You stay with me, Tyler.” She clasped his face, dragging his gaze back to hers. He stared into the eyes of an angel. “You’re not going to die.”

“No, not when I haven’t yet kissed you.” He wouldn’t leave her, not like this, except his eyelids drooped, the weight too heavy to hold. “I-I.” His heartbeat stuttered within his chest and the dark descended, taking her from him.





10




Fingers pried at his right eyelid. He groaned, his mind slumping about within his head, and a piercing light flickered.

“Wake up, Mr. Whitehall. Your family is here and most anxious to see you. I’m Dr. Hardeef.”

He shoved the doctor’s hand away then rubbed his jaw and found a sharp growth of stubble. Why was he in a hospital?

The doctor’s annoying voice droned on. “That’s it. Open your eyes, sir.”

Cranking his lids up, he stared at the man in the white coat, and jerked back as another beam of light hit his sensitive retinas. “Hey, I’m not blind.”

“Uncle Tyler.” His nephew scaled his metal-railed bed and bounced onto his chest.

“Oomph.” Rolling onto his side, he slid Nico to the stiff hospital mattress, holding him close. Why were Nico’s eyes all red and blotchy?

“We’ve been trying to wake you for a whole day.” Nico clung to him.

“Um, maybe I was really tired.” He frowned. No, that didn’t sound right.

“You’re in so much trouble with Daddy.”

“He’s in more than just trouble.” Liam cut a path across the room, Dylan, Luke and Brigs storming in behind him.

The dark-skinned doctor backed away. “I’ll return on my next round. It appears your family would like a word.”

“Did someone slug me?” Tyler glanced upward as an oscillating fan pushed humid air down on him. “What am I doing here?”

“The answer starts and ends with one person.” Brigs’s jaw worked from side to side as he edged in front. “Do you remember why I came?”

“No.”

Brigs planted his hands flat on his mattress. “You will be peeved at me if you don’t remember. What’s the last thing you recall?”

“Ah, weren’t we at the cove?” There’d been a white sandy beach and Nico collecting shells with…

Brigs clicked his fingers in front of his face. “Come on. Get with the program.” He turned and motioned to Luke. “Give Tyler the clothing.”

Luke dumped a bundle in his hands. It was his white t-shirt, and…was that a purple bikini? “Yeah, thanks, but I prefer shorts.” Still, he stared at the bikini, fingering the shiny fabric. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”

“Okay, enough with the fooling around. Tell me who last wore this clothing, and make it snappy.”

Examining the clothing, he brought the t-shirt to his nose and inhaled. Ah, the scent of the sea and the sand, and yes, just beneath was the trace of a woman’s perfume. Damn, it smelt good. Like the sweetest white roses. Every cell in his body stirred to life.

He wanted, and with his senses on overload, he scrutinized his brothers. “Who the hell’s worn my shirt?”



“Jenna, is Colt back?” Nine days in at Ronson Brown’s high country station and Lydia was just getting used to Ronson calling her new name.

She climbed the four raggedy steps to the wide wraparound porch of the homestead and dropped into the creaky wooden chair next to his. Flapping her Stetson in front of her face, she tried to cool down from her long walk. “I didn’t see him at the feed sheds.”

Ronson kicked his feet up on a wooden crate and rocked his chair back on its hind legs. Her new uncle might be ex-Force, but he was a young fifty-five, with only a sprinkling of gray at the sides of his dark hair.

“What did Marianne say?”