In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

“Shit!”


Beau didn’t like that muttered curse from Brent. It took a lot to ruffle the driver. He could handle himself in any situation. Not only was he a former race-car driver, but he was also ex-military and he’d been hired for more than just his driving ability.

Beau glanced up to stare through the windshield only to see two vehicles barreling down the wrong side of the freeway, on a crash course with them. They were caught in the middle of an inevitable collision. Which was pretty stupid if they were so intent on keeping Ari alive. How could they be certain she would escape unscathed?

Unless their objective had changed. It was hard to speculate when he had no idea what the source of the threat was. He was already well behind, had no starting point until he could question Ari at length and start investigating her parents—especially her father.

A low whimper tore through Ari’s throat and then her eyes glazed over, tiny flecks of gold that sparkled like glitter in the oceanic pools as she stared through the windshield at the vehicles bearing down on them.

Her features tightened as though she were in pain. Her fingers bunched into tight fists, her knuckles white from the fierce grip. Then her entire body quivered, as though the electricity reflected in her eyes now surged through her veins.

He could feel the power emanating from her in waves. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. And it wasn’t as though he were new to psychic powers or even a skeptic. He’d witnessed firsthand unusual psychic phenomena.

But when one of the cars bearing down on them from the front suddenly lifted into the air, turned on its side and slammed into the guardrail, Beau’s mouth dropped open. His gaze shot between Ari’s strained features to the wreck they were bearing down on closer and closer.

Blood suddenly dripped from Ari’s nose. It slid silently from her ears and her body trembled as if in the grips of something terrible and all-consuming. And then she was suddenly pitched forward. She slammed against him, rocking them both forward. He barely had time to wrap his arms protectively around her and roll her underneath him when the entire world went upside down.

Pain splintered through one of his legs and his shoulders. The sound of metal crunching, the terrible scraping sound of an overturned car still sliding along asphalt freeway. Beau was only conscious of the small woman in his arms and his worry that he’d utterly failed to protect her as he’d promised.





ELEVEN

PAIN surfaced and with it the knowledge that Beau was alive. He cautiously moved first his arms and then his legs, relieved when all seemed in operating condition with only a few twinges that signaled bruising but not breaks. At least he hoped so, because they were still in great peril.

He reached automatically for Ari, opening his eyes to examine the turmoil of their surroundings. Ari was climbing awkwardly into the front seat, her hands going to Brent to gently shake him to ascertain whether he was conscious or not.

“My leg is trapped,” Brent reported grimly to Ari. “But my hands are perfectly capable of working. Grab the gun from my holster and hand it to me. There’s another in the center console. You need to keep it on you at all times. Be careful, they’re loaded. Don’t hesitate to shoot if one of those bastards gets near you. The Devereauxs will ensure that none of this falls back on you or that you’re even remotely involved. Your first priority has to be protecting yourself. At any cost.”

“Ari, you stay put,” Beau bit out, voicing his directive as a harsh command.

She glanced back, relief stark in her eyes as her gaze swept over him. As if she’d been afraid that he’d been seriously injured or killed.

“They’re coming,” she said quietly. “I need to get out so I can draw them away. They’ll kill you and Brent. You know that.”

It did funny things to his chest—things he didn’t like—that she seemed so concerned for him. It was his goddamn job to protect her. Not for her to protect him.

Brent’s curses mixed with Beau’s own. Beau’s orders to her to remain here where he could protect her went unheeded as she slithered through the shattered passenger side window, gun in her hand.

Beau fumbled around for his phone, latching on to it when he found it lying just inches from his hand. He punched in Zack’s number, knowing he would be able to get here faster than Dane or Eliza.

“Brent and I are down,” Beau said with no preamble. “We need extrication stat. I have a client with me and she’s vulnerable. They want her alive. Everyone else, not so much.”