Fearless: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 2) Read online

Shane sighs over the phone. “No, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble. Don’t worry. If she does sue, which I doubt she will, Troy will take care of it.”

  This might be the second time Shane’s lawyer has had to come to my aid. He’s also handling the assault and battery case against Andrew Morton.

  “So, who’s going to take Vanessa’s place?” Shane says.

  I just sit here for a moment, because I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into. “I guess I am.”

  * * *

  It looks like my part-time job has suddenly morphed into a full-time job, and that’s a good thing. At least now I’ll be earning a living wage, and I can pay back Shane for what I owe him.

  Fortunately, we have an IT staff member on-site – Megan. She sets up a network ID and password for me on the computer in Vanessa’s office. In my office. I guess I need to get used to saying that. Charlie in payroll changes my status in the system from part-time employee to full time, general manager.

  “So what’s my salary?” I ask him, looking over his shoulder as he keys in my information.

  He looks at me like I’m nuts and shrugs. “What do you want it to be?”

  “Let’s go with whatever Vanessa was getting. That’ll be fine.” When he keys in the amount, I’m shocked. “Are you kidding? Doesn’t that seem a little high to you for a bookstore manager? I mean, I know this is Chicago and all, but I’ll bet there are some medical doctors who make less than that.” Now I’m doubly glad I fired Vanessa.

  He shrugs. “Vanessa gave herself a hefty raise right after Mr. Clancy retired.”

  “What was her salary before the raise?”

  When he tells me, I nod. “That sounds more reasonable. I’ll go with that.”

  After I’m done with Charlie, I send my first e-mail from my official company account.

  To: Shane McIntyre

  From: Beth Jamison

  I’ve got e-mail now. This is all so surreal. Any minute now, I’m going to wake up and find out it’s all a dream. Wish me luck.

  Love u,

  Beth

  * * *

  I’m sitting at my desk reviewing the employee handbook, making a list of the changes I want to make, when there’s a knock on my open door. I smile when I see Shane lounging in the doorway, looking very debonair in his suit and tie. I practically melt at the sight.

  A grin steals over my face at his unexpected – and very welcome – appearance. “Can I help you, sir?”

  He smiles, and those gorgeous blue eyes glitter with amusement. “I’d like to see the manager, please.”

  “Oh?” I lean back in my chair, trying to look managerial. “Is there a problem, sir?”

  Nodding, he straightens and walks into the office and takes a seat on the corner on my desk. “Yes, there’s a problem. I was so busy today I skipped lunch, and now I’m starving. I’d like to take Clancy’s new general manager out to dinner to celebrate her sudden promotion, if she’ll let me.”

  “She’d be delighted, thank you. Where did you have in mind?”

  “I think I’ll let the new general manager choose.”

  I quickly run through some options, and then I know what I want. “You know what I’m craving? Sal’s Bar-B-Q. Remember, that little barbecue place we ate at in Hyde Park?”

  Shane loves barbecue and old-time blues music, and Sal’s one of the best places in Chicagoland to get both. It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant-slash-pub where I took Shane a few months ago on one of our first official dates.

  But the restaurant is located in my old neighborhood – Hyde Park – just a five-minute walk from my townhouse. At first I think he’ll veto the idea, but then he surprises me. “Sure. That sounds fine.”

  * * *

  We drive to the little business district where the restaurant is located, and Shane parks on a side street just a few blocks from our destination. We walk hand-in-hand past the small independent grocer I used to frequent, past the florist and a Chinese restaurant. There’s even a small used bookstore. When we reach Sal’s, Shane opens their battered wooden door for me, and we walk inside, hit immediately with the mouth-watering aroma of slow-cooked meats and barbecue sauce.

  We seat ourselves at a small booth in the back corner of the restaurant, choosing to sit together on one side of the table, rather than across from each other. A middle-aged woman brings us two glasses of ice water and asks what we’d like to drink.

  An old mahogany bar accented with brass fittings and vintage lighting runs along one side of the small restaurant, and the rest of the place is filled with small tables covered with red-and-white checkered tablecloths that have certainly seen better days. The place may look a bit run down, but I know for a fact that the food here is superb.

  The sound system is playing a classic Muddy Waters song. You can’t grow up in Chicago and not know who Muddy Waters is – he’s the acknowledged father of Chicago blues. This place has a wonderful vibe all its own.

  Our server brings Shane a tall glass of dark ale and me a Coke, and then she takes our food order. While we’re waiting for our food, Shane lays his arm across my shoulders. His free hand snags my right hand, and he rubs his thumb across the back of my knuckles. Sitting this close to him, tucked under his shoulder, I’m warmed by the heat of his body. I lean into him and inhale his scent, male skin and fresh laundry and the barest hint of cologne. I turn my hand in his so that I’m the one doing the caressing now. I stroke each of his long fingers one at a time, from the base to the tip, mimicking how I might like to stroke another part of his anatomy.

  He groans when I begin to knead the center of his palm, pressing my thumbs into his flesh.

  “You’re asking for trouble,” he says, his voice low as he shifts on the bench seat, trying to adjust himself in his slacks.

  I think my little hand massage is having a definite effect on him. I let go of his hand and turn to him, slipping my arm inside his jack and around his waist, feeling his firm abdominal muscles flex with every breath. My hand brushes against the gun holster strapped to his chest, and I pull back, momentarily startled when I realize he’s armed. It shouldn’t really surprise me. He’s usually armed now when we go out, especially if it’s just the two of us. And we are just a few minutes from my townhouse, where Kline has recently been known to loiter.

  “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around me to draw me back to him. “It’s just a precaution. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  Our food arrives, and we eat in comfortable silence, each one of us aware of the other, sharing glances and small touches throughout our meal. Shane steals a few of my fries, and he gives me a bite of his brisket. As much as I’m enjoying having dinner with him here, I can’t wait until we get home.

  We’ve both just about finished with our meals when his phone chimes with an incoming call. It’s a ring tone I don’t recognize.

  Shane reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone. “Report.” His voice is uncharacteristically sharp.

  I look at him, wondering what’s wrong.

  He listens for a moment, and I can just barely make out a male voice coming over the phone, although I can’t distinguish who it is or what he’s saying.

  “God damn it!” Shane says. “You’re sure?”

  He’s silent for a moment as he listens to the caller. “She’s here with me. We’re at a restaurant in Hyde Park. Fuck! I can’t believe the timing. How soon can we get someone here to pick her up?”

  Another pause.

  “No! I can’t wait that long, Jake. Damn it! I don’t believe this.”

  Another pause as Shane glances at me. “No, I’m not bringing her. It’s too risky. I’ll call you back.”

  Shane ends the call and sits there, staring straight ahead. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. He types something quickly into his phone, then he pulls two twenties out of his wallet and lays them on the table.

  He turns to me, garnering my full attention. “Listen to me carefully, Beth. Lia’s on
her way here,” he says, rising from the booth. “She’ll take you to the penthouse. Stay right here at this table until she gets here.”

  Something’s seriously wrong for Shane to abandon me in a restaurant. My heart starts thundering painfully, and I grab his wrist. “You’re leaving me here? Why? What’s wrong?”

  Leaning down, he pins me with a hard gaze. His voice is strained. “You stay right here – don’t leave this table, do you hear me? Lia will be here soon. She’ll take you home.”

  “Where are you going?” But I have a sinking suspicion I already know.

  He shakes his head, gritting his teeth. “Do not leave this table.”

  As he turns and walks away, I jump up and run after him. I’m not about to stay here when I know what he’s walking into. “Shane!”

  He stops and turns, and I nearly run right into him. He grabs my shoulders and steadies me. “Sit back down and wait for Lia.”

  “No. This is about Kline, isn’t it?”

  Shane looks away, his chest lifting as he draws in a big breath, then exhales.

  “I’m going with you.”

  He glares at me. “The hell you are!”

  Everyone in the restaurant is staring at us now. Shane lowers his voice. “You are not coming with me, Beth. Stay here and do what I said. Don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe until Lia gets here.”

  “If you walk out of here, so will I. You’re going to my townhouse, aren’t you? Kline’s heading there right now, isn’t he?”

  Shane closes his eyes and blows out a heavy breath. “That was Jake on the phone. Kline just boarded a bus headed this way, and he’s armed. This may be it. This may be our chance – my chance – to put a stop to this. I can’t miss this opportunity, Beth. I have to be inside your house before he arrives. You need to listen to me and wait here.”

  “No. I’m coming with you.”

  “Damn it, we talked about this!”

  “No, you talked about it! I want to be there. If something happens – if something goes wrong and you get hurt, I could never live with myself. This isn’t your decision to make, Shane. This is my life. It’s me he’s coming after me. I – ”

  Shane runs his fingers through his hair. “Beth, please don’t do this to me.”

  He sounds agonized, and I hate cornering him like this, but I’m not going to sit here while he risks his life for me. I can be just as stubborn as he is. “I’m not staying here, Shane. I’ll follow you.”

  I know I’m being a brat, but I don’t care. If this is the only way I can get him to take me seriously, then so be it.

  “Fuck!” He grabs me by the arm and marches me toward the door. “I don’t have time to fucking argue with you. Fine, I’ll bring you with me, but you will do exactly as I say, do you hear me? If not, I swear to God I’ll lock you in a closet.”

  I nod, struggling to keep up with his long, determined strides. He shoves the restaurant door open, and we head for the Jaguar.

  Chapter 33

  My street is just minutes away. Shane parks in the alley behind my house, about a block away. He’s talking on his phone to Jake as we hustle down the narrow alley toward my house. The sun’s setting, and it’ll be dark soon.

  Jake meets us at the side door to my garage, ushering us inside quickly and shutting the door behind us. “What the God damned fuck is she doing here?” he growls, glaring at me.

  “Deal with it!” Shane hisses. “I need to get her somewhere safe inside.”

  Shane and Jake both march me across the backyard and through the French doors into the kitchen. There are two men I don’t recognize standing at the kitchen table, plus the blonde woman who looks like me. They’re all clustered around the table, where weapons are laid out, plus some other electronic devices I don’t recognize. They all stop what they’re doing to stare at me.

  “Change in plans,” Jake says, his voice brisk. “We have a fucking bystander. Where do we put her?”

  At first, there’s dead silence as everyone stares at me. Then one of the men I don’t recognize steps forward. “Put her in – shit! Beth’s bedroom is the last room upstairs. He’ll look in every upstairs room first, before he gets to her room. You can’t leave her downstairs, so you have no choice but to take her upstairs with you and hide her in her bedroom.”

  “There’s a small walk-in closet in the bedroom,” the blonde woman – Caroline – says. “We can hide her in there. It’s out of the line of fire, so she should be okay if she hunkers down and has protective gear on.”

  Jake comes forward with a heavy black vest, which he shoves into Shane’s waiting hands. Shane draws the vest over my torso and secures it tightly with thick Velcro straps. The vest is huge and it weighs a ton, hanging on me and weighing me down. All of the others have similar protective gear on, except for Shane. Jake hands Shane a vest, and he slips it onto himself and secures it.

  Jake’s phone vibrates, and he checks it. “ETA bus stop in seven minutes. Everyone into position.”

  Two of the men slip out the back through the French doors and disappear into the night. Caroline, Jake, Shane and I head up the back staircase to the second floor. I notice then that Jake and the woman both have communication devices in their ears. Jake hands a similar device to Shane, who quickly inserts it into his ear.

  Shane has a painfully tight hold on my arm as he walks me down the hallway to my bedroom. I can tell he’s angry at me, really angry, but I can’t worry about that right now. It’s too late for me to back out now.

  All of the lights downstairs are off, but there are two lights on upstairs – one in the hallway bathroom and one in my bedroom. Shane directs me down the hall to my bedroom, and once inside, he opens the closet door and thrusts me inside, following me into the small, dark room. He jerks the pull-chain to turn on the closet light, then grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. His voice is hard. “You stay in here and don’t make a sound, do you hear me?”

  As he double-checks that my vest is secured, I nod. My heart’s beating so fast I can hear the blood rushing through my skull.

  His hands frame my face, and he pulls me in close as he leans down so that we’re practically nose to nose. His eyes are as cold and hard as blue diamonds as he stares at me. “Do not make a sound. Do not come out of this closet, no matter what you hear. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” My voice is little more than a croak.

  His eyes close briefly, and when he reopens them, his gaze is surprisingly tender. “There’s no time.” He pulls me close, despite the awkwardness of our armored vests, and wraps his arms tightly around me. He presses his mouth to the top of my head, his hot breath ruffling my hair, sending chills down my spine. He walks me backward, deeper into the closet, into the farthest corner where some clothes are hanging on the rod. He pushes me down into a sitting position and crouches down in front of me. “I swear to God, Beth, if you move from this spot, I’ll blister your hide, do you hear me? This time I’m not kidding.”

  Nervously, I chuckle – it’s an inside joke with us. We met while I was reading an anthology of spanking stories, and he teases me with the threat of spanking. He’s never done it, of course, but this time I think he might be serious. He’s so tightly-wound right now that if he was pushed far enough, he might actually carry through with his threat.

  Even though he’s so on edge, his thumb is gentle when it brushes the curve of my cheek. “Be safe, Beth,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bring his lips to mine. He kisses me gently, almost reverently, and that makes me choke up.

  “Now listen to me,” he says. “I’m going to turn off the closet light and shut the door. You will remain frozen in place until I – or one of my people – come to get you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” My voice is thick with unshed tears.

  “You’re going to have to be okay here in the dark, sweetheart. I can’t let you have any light on. All right?”

  I nod. “It’s not me I’m worried about.” I almost choke on the words as hot t
ears burn my cheeks. I know perfectly well it’s Shane who’ll be in the line of fire. He’s going to be the one to confront Howard Kline and risk getting himself shot – or even killed. Because of me.

  I clutch Shane’s arms. “Be careful.” My voice is barely audible, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

  Shane reaches inside his armored vest and pulls one of my rescue inhalers out of his suit pocket and shoves it into my hands. “In case you need it.”

  I swallow against a painful lump in my throat. “I love you.” I try hard not to wonder if this could be the last time I can say that to him.

  Jake pokes his head inside the closet and growls at Shane. “ETA two minutes! Get into place!”

  Shane nods at his brother, then turns back to me with a smile, suddenly looking calm and unhurried as he brushes my cheek with his fingers. It’s as if he simply flipped a switch, shutting off his emotions. “I love you, sweetheart. Wait here. I’ll see you soon.”

  Shane turns off the light, and I hear a quiet snick as he gently closes the door. I’m left huddling in the back corner of my old closet, sitting under the few clothes I’d left behind. It’s pitch black in here. I can see a thin ribbon of golden light underneath the closet door as the light in the bedroom is still on. I keep my gaze locked at that little bit of light as I bring my knees up and rest my arms on them. I slow my breathing, counting with each regulated breath, and try not to hyperventilate. None of us can afford for me to have a panic attack right now.

  I count as I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I hear muffled voices in the bedroom, both male and female, as final arrangements are made.

  I can’t believe this is happening. Shane and Jake and the three others are calmly waiting for Howard Kline to break into my house, come up the stairs to my bedroom with the intention of... what? Kidnapping me again? Raping me? Killing me? I don’t think any of them know what Kline’s intentions are. But if he’s willing to break into my house, it can’t be good.

  No matter how unnerved I am by the thought of Howard Kline’s proximity, it’s Shane’s safety that I’m most worried about. I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to him. And I’m terrified by the idea that he could be arrested for killing Kline.