Witness Pursuit (Bodyguards #1)

“Not nearly long enough.” He pressed her back into a gap between the men’s jackets and sweaters. “A day or two, but Brigs and I’ll lay low so we don’t blow your cover.”


“That’ll be strange with you hiding out for a change.” She ducked under his arm with the cheekiest grin. “Toiletries. This way.”

He followed her from the clothing department to a series of shorter aisles. She slowed before the men’s razors and picked through the selection until she found the same brand he’d used on the ship. A couple of steps along, she nabbed a toothbrush and a box of condoms and dropped them into his hands.

His arms bulged with his purchases and the condoms stared him hard in the eye. “Now I need a bed. With you in it.”

She giggled and reached for her trolley. “Well, we agree on that. I’ll go put this vacuum cleaner on Ronson’s account and meet you in the parking lot.”

“Sure, but stay where I can see you.” The thought of her being out of his sight, even for a moment, ate a hole in his gut. How he’d leave her in a couple of days, he had no idea. It wasn’t something he even wanted to contemplate.



At the truck, Lydia opened the passenger door and heaved the box in. Brushing her hands together, she shut the door with her hip. Tyler was inside at the counter paying for his purchases, his gaze locked on hers through the wide storefront windows.

Behind her a bike rumbled and she turned as Slade rode into the parking lot. She jogged over to him, smiling wide. “Hey, Slade. What are you doing in town? Got another afternoon off?”

With one booted foot on the blacktop, he flipped the visor of his helmet and darted a look toward the truck. “Colt said to find you and bring you to the hospital. There’s been an accident at the station. A bad one.”

“What?” She grabbed his arm. “Is anyone hurt?”

He took her Stetson and jammed it into the bag tied at the back of his bike. He snatched the spare helmet, and slid it over her head. “I’ll tell you on the ride. Jump on. This can’t wait.”

“What kind of accident?”

“There’s no easy way to tell you this, but Drake’s been shot. The rescue chopper flew him straight to the hospital.” He pulled her on.

Hearing the word shot had her heartbeat hammering. “H-how b-bad?”

“It was intentional. Colt called Ronson, and he’s on his way.”

“Get a move on.” Bunching her hands into the back of his shirt, she jerked him to hurry. If Drake was in the hospital, then that’s where she needed to be.

Squealing out of the lot, Slade left a drag of rubber. She held on tight as she yelled into the rush of wind. “How’d all this happen?”

“We were at the river. Colt was ready to put the animal down and his shot and another from back within the trees went off. We didn’t see who fired it, but it was a dirty shot and hit Drake right in the back.”

Shot in the back, just like Tyler. No correlation, but every correlation. Her breath seized in her lungs as they sped through the streets. Black and gray swirled into one, the dirty color tinted with the murderous shade of blood red. Images flashed through her mind, of Johnny Taita’s mangled body on the pavement, of Tyler’s blood on her hands. Why Drake?

Frustration welled and her anger soared. This had to end.

From behind, an almighty roar from a black SUV with darkened glass bore down on them. Tyler had his head half out the window as he drove, and Brigs gestured with his hand out the passenger’s side for them to stop.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Slade shouted to her.

Clasping her knees tightly to Slade from behind, she tucked in against his back. Hopefully Tyler would see she trusted whoever she rode with.

They peeled through the hospital’s opened gates, following the curved drive to the entrance where a series of multi-story buildings stood. Slade pulled into a space before the main doors as a screech of tires and car doors opening heralded Tyler’s arrival.

He lifted her clear of the back of the bike, his dark hair a disheveled mess. His gaze burned with fury. “What the hell’s going on?”

Brigs gripped Slade by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him from his bike.

“No, Brigs. Slade was told to bring me here. Let him go.”

Towering over him, he eyed the boy. “Kid, you better have one damn good reason for driving at that speed with Jenna on the back.”

“Who are you?” Slade’s gaze jumped from Brigs to Tyler. “Cops?”

“Friends of Jenna’s,” Brig’s answered as Tyler backed her up.

“Let Brigs deal with this,” Tyler muttered in her ear.

On the tips of her toes, she tried to see over his broad shoulders. “Slade said Drake was shot at the station, and Colt told Slade to come get me. Ronson’s on his way.”

“Someone got shot? That you know?”

“Yes.” She swayed on her feet and bumped noses with him. “Tyler–” So woozy.

“You’ve gone ghostly white. Are you okay?” He captured her close.