Bodyguard For Christmas
His mahogany dresser occupied a sizable section of the wall to the right of it, the massive mirror framed by curved shelves on either side. Letters were scrawled across the glass in his dead wife’s lipstick.
His foundation shifted, and the room seemed to tilt sideways as the message dived deep into his heart.
“The sins of the fathers...”
From the time he was adopted at age fifteen, he’d attended church. He knew his Bible. The next words went something like “...are visited on the children to the third and fourth generation.” Whoever wrote the phrase was taking the verse out of context, but the intended meaning was clear.
Colton tightened his hold on Liam and buried his face in the boy’s hair, soft and silky like his mother’s had been. Determination surged through him. No one was going to get to his son ever again. He’d see to it.
Sirens wailed outside, growing in volume. Soon the police would be there. He’d give his report. And he’d insist that Meagan go to the hospital.
Then he’d find a bodyguard. Someone big and tough and mean.
The fence encircling the yard, with its electronic gate, the rottweiler prowling the property, the alarm when they were asleep. It wasn’t enough. What had previously been empty threats had just taken on flesh and blood.
He’d do whatever he must to ensure Liam’s safety. Even if it meant paying for around-the-clock protection.
Or leaving Atlanta and starting over somewhere else. Maybe both.
Yes, definitely both.
Jasmine strode down the hall of Burch Security Specialists, her gait heavier than normal. She still had another week blocked off, which would have given her enough time to finish the interior painting before the scheduled carpet installation began. So much for plans. Less than an hour ago, she’d gotten a call from her boss and former commander—she needed to show up pronto for a new assignment.
Gunn didn’t tell her what the assignment was, but something in his tone warned her. She was about to meet another idiot who had his doubts about whether a woman could handle the job. After doing two tours with her in Afghanistan, Gunn didn’t have any of those reservations.
She stopped at the end of the hall. A plaque was affixed next to a closed door—Gunter Burch, Owner in engraved black letters. At her two soft raps, Gunn’s voice boomed a command to enter.
A man sat facing Gunn’s desk, his back to her. He was wearing a suit, sandy-blond hair brushing the jacket’s collar.
“Colton Gale, Jasmine McNeal.” Gunn indicated her with a tilt of his head.
Her jaw slackened when Gunn gave the visitor’s name. “We’ve met.” They spoke the words simultaneously.
“It’s good to see you again.” Colton stood and extended his hand, pinning her with his blue gaze.
Yesterday, his eyes had held panic, desperation, protectiveness. Now a sadness she hadn’t noticed swam in their depths. When he smiled, there was a tightness to it, as if it had been so long since he’d given the gesture a try it no longer came naturally. He and Cade were identical twins, but they wore their personality differences on their faces.
Jasmine accepted the handshake, her grip firm and confident. Colton probably had her five feet two inches beat by a solid foot. The one-inch heel on her boots didn’t make any appreciable difference. He still towered over her.
He wasn’t in bad shape, either, especially for a business type. His jacket hung open. Beneath the dress shirt and narrow tie, the guy was obviously fit. Of course, she’d suspected that yesterday, too.
Colton released her hand. “I take it you work here?”
“For the past three years.” They hadn’t exchanged personal details yesterday. He’d helped her carry in a bucket of paint, then left. At his place, they’d been occupied with more important things.
“What do you do for the company?”
Great. He probably thought she did clerical work. Gunn did that on purpose—referred to her by her nickname when talking to potentially difficult clients and introduced her by her legal name in person.
She straightened the zippered black jacket she wore and lifted her chin. “Bodyguard. Former MP.”
He cocked a brow for a half second before understanding flooded his eyes. “Jaz. Jasmine.” His jaw tightened, and his gaze went to Gunn. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”
Jasmine bristled. “I’m sure he told you my qualifications.”
Those blue eyes turned to her again. But the sadness she’d seen was buried under layers of determination. “He did. But I’d assumed Jaz was a man.”
Heat built in her chest and spread. “You felt those qualifications were impressive until you found out they belonged to a woman.”
“I know this sounds sexist. I don’t mean it that way.” He heaved a sigh. “You know what I came home to yesterday. No offense, but I’m looking for someone a little more...intimidating.”
Yeah, someone like her coworker Dom. But Gunn knew what he was doing. Other than the fact that the former sniper was assigned elsewhere, he was built like a linebacker and unintentionally terrified small children.
She drew in a calming breath. Colton was trying to protect his little boy. The reminder was like water splashed on a fire. Enough to slow it down but a long way from dousing it completely.
He continued before she had a chance to respond. “I’m an assistant district attorney, and I’ve put away some really bad dudes. One has decided to go after my son.” He crossed his arms. “I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but I need somebody big and mean.”
He stared down at her, exuding an unmistakable sense of power. In the courtroom, he was probably a force to be reckoned with.
But when it came to protection, so was she. “A thirty-eight stops a man cold, regardless of the size of the hand holding it.”
“What if someone sneaks up behind you?”
“They’d better hit me with a tranquilizer dart first.”
“That’s exactly what they did to my dog.”
Oh. “You’re assuming they could get close enough. Not gonna happen.”
He dropped his arms to his sides. His gaze swept downward to her feet and back up again. Something changed. His eyes held a momentary flash of indecision, then coldness.
She stepped back with her right foot, weight distributed equally between both legs, knees slightly bent. She didn’t get where she was by not being able to read people. Unless she’d completely lost her touch, Colton Gale was preparing to administer a test.
One she was determined to pass.
He lunged toward her, arms swinging upward to capture her. She didn’t give him the opportunity to complete the maneuver. In one smooth motion, she grasped his arm, twisted, crouched and thrust one hip into his legs. Using his own weight and momentum against him, she jerked him forward as she straightened.
He sailed over her, did a flip and landed hard on his back, the plush carpet muffling the thud. Before he could recover, she rolled him over, dropped to one knee and wrenched his right arm behind his back.
He slapped the floor like a wrestler conceding a match. “Okay.” His voice sounded strained. “Point taken.”
She held him a moment longer before releasing him, then rose and watched him get to his feet. “So, tell me about my assignment.” The words were for Gunn, but she kept her gaze locked on her tall neighbor.
“You’re going to live at their home. While Mr. Gale is there, you’ll be responsible for protecting both of them.”
Colton settled himself in the chair where he’d been when she first entered. “But Liam will be your first responsibility.”
“Understood.”
She tamped down her annoyance and sank into the chair next to him. Dom likely never had potential clients doubt his competence. The other three Burch Security people probably didn’t, either. Though not as large as Dom, they were all men.
Colton continued. “Tomorrow morning, we’re heading to Murphy, North Carolina, two hours north. We moved from there a year ago.” He heaved a tension-filled sigh. “Probably should have never left.”
The last words were soft, like a private thought that spilled out without him realizing it. Life had apparently not gone the way he’d hoped. Of course, that was typical for those who walked through Burch Security’s door. People didn’t need a bodyguard when everything was sunshine and roses.
“Where is Liam now?”
“With Cade.”
Colton’s brother rather than his wife. Maybe he was a single parent.
She frowned. She wasn’t good with kids, particularly ones that young. At least, that was what she assumed. In actuality, she’d managed to avoid them. With the exception of a sixteen-year-old amateur model who’d picked up a stalker, all her assignments had involved adults.
“When do I start?”
“Tonight.” Gunn tapped a pen on his desk. “I’ll fill you in on what you need to know. Then you can get your personal belongings together. Corine will be in touch with you after she checks out the leads Mr. Gale gave us.”
She nodded. Corine had worked for Burch Security since a month after Gunn opened shop, and she was a whiz on the computer. If there was information available, she’d find it.
Colton continued. “By nine tomorrow morning, I want to be on my way to Murphy. The sooner we leave Atlanta, the better I’ll feel. Whoever’s threatening us likely doesn’t know about the Murphy house.”
A good reason to go there. But likely not Colton’s only reason. Whenever he spoke of Murphy, his tone held a solid dose of nostalgia. It wasn’t just a physical haven. It was likely an emotional one, too.
But beyond providing a safe place to stay, relocating wouldn’t fix anything. Whatever had transpired over the past year, Colton couldn’t make it unhappen. Time went forward, never backward. Water that flowed under the bridge never came back.
How well she knew.
“Then I guess it’s settled.” He pushed himself to his feet. “You know where I live. See you in two hours?”
“Two hours.” She stood and extended her hand.
After finishing the handshake, he reached across his torso to massage his right arm. One side of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. “Do you always rough up your new clients?”
“Only the ones who need it.”
The smile broadened just a tad. “Staying in Murphy should make your job a lot easier.” That thread of a smile disappeared completely. “As long as we’re not followed.”
She gave a sharp nod. “It’ll be my responsibility to make sure we’re not.”
TWO
The security system’s high-pitched beep punctuated the thunk of the dead bolt as Colton locked the front door. He had no idea when he’d return. After one week back on the job following an almost five-month leave of absence, he’d resigned his position with the district attorney’s office.
Cade had come back after his appointment Thursday afternoon and done a thorough search of the house, making sure he’d moved the last of his possessions. The break-in had shaken him. Apparently, it had taken almost losing his nephew to make him realize life wasn’t just one cosmic joke.
Colton turned from the door, Liam perched on his hip. This time, the house would sit empty. Not only had Cade gotten an apartment, he wasn’t even going to be in town for the next month. He’d teased that he didn’t want to be mistaken for Colton.
In reality, he’d gotten leads on some collections to be auctioned off. Cade’s plans often changed at the last moment. The lifestyle suited him well. He didn’t let anything tie him down, which was why he’d never bought a house, even though he could afford it. Home ownership felt too much like commitment.
Colton headed down the porch steps. A black Suburban waited behind his Highlander. Jasmine stood next to the driver’s door.
Her eyes shifted to him briefly before she went back to scanning their surroundings, ever vigilant. She’d spent the night and slept on the daybed in Liam’s room. Thursday night, Liam had awoken screaming so many times Colton had lost count. Last night’s sleep had been blissfully free of nightmares, at least for his son. Unfortunately, he’d had a few of his own.
As Colton swung open his rear driver door, Jasmine continued to stand guard. Her presence brought just the sense of security he’d hoped.
Before leaving Burch Security yesterday, he’d signed the necessary paperwork. As he had written the check for the first payment, Gunter Burch had reassured him of Jasmine’s qualifications. Between her military background, her civilian assignments and all the advanced training in both capacities, he and Liam were going to be in good hands. Of course, eating carpet fibers had already dispelled whatever doubts he’d had.
Jasmine’s eyes shifted to him, and he nodded. Yes, he was ready. More than ready.
She opened the Suburban’s door. “I’ll be behind you, but I might hang back on the interstate. Keep your phone plugged into your car’s stereo system. Anything suspicious, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.” She was only doing her job, a job that was costing him a pretty penny. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating everything she was doing to protect them.
He leaned into the vehicle to secure Liam in his car seat. Brutus sat next to him, tail thumping against leather. Huge brown eyes seemed to hold sadness, maybe even guilt, as if the dog sensed he’d failed in his job to protect.
Colton fastened the last latch, then leaned across Liam to pet Brutus. “It’s okay, buddy. It wasn’t your fault.”
He straightened and closed the door. Yesterday morning, before going to Burch Security, he’d taken care of the things he hadn’t gotten to on Thursday. Mandy’s jewelry was now locked in his safety deposit box.
Then he’d gone to a thrift store and parked at the open bay door in back. It had taken all the strength he had to climb from the vehicle and pull out the first box. With each one he passed to the volunteer, he’d felt as if he was handing over a piece of his heart.
Now it was done, and several suitcases holding his and Liam’s possessions occupied the space behind the back seat. He’d packed everything he could think of. Anything he’d forgotten, he’d buy in Murphy.
The investigation was far from complete. Cops had viewed the security footage. Besides the knit masks, the intruders had worn gloves, so the likelihood of recovering prints was nil.
As he drove through the subdivision’s exit gate, some of the tension flowed out of him. In two more hours, he’d be pulling up the drive and stopping in front of the log home with its soaring windows and steeply pitched roof.
Warm, cozy and filled with love, it had always held a special place in his heart. He and Mandy had purchased it six years earlier for a weekend getaway and built so many memories.
Four years ago, he and his pregnant wife had decided Murphy was a perfect place to raise children, and they’d made the move. Until the district attorney’s office had lured him back.
Now he was going home.
After several turns, he accelerated up the I-285 ramp. The black Suburban was right behind him, Jasmine at the wheel. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes. But he didn’t need to see them to know she was watching traffic in more than a defensive-driving sense.
He craned his neck to glance at his son in the rearview mirror. As expected, he was awake, left arm clutching his plush rabbit, right thumb in his mouth. Another change Colton had noticed. As Liam’s speech had gotten less, soon stopping completely, his thumb sucking had gone from only when sleeping to almost all the time. Colton would have to address it eventually, but certainly not now.
He moved into the left lane and accelerated. Varying his speed would make it harder for someone to follow him, at least without Jasmine noticing. He checked his mirrors. On a Saturday morning, traffic was moderate. The Suburban was some distance back, traveling in the right lane. He signaled and prepared to merge onto I-75. As he decreased his speed, several vehicles went around him. He moved into the far-right lane and exited 285 in front of a slow-moving dump truck.
After several miles, he picked up speed again. Soon he’d be on 575, headed toward Murphy. An unexpected sense of anticipation wove through him.
He’d made this move twice before. Each time, it had represented a fresh start, and he’d found freedom, happiness, a sense of belonging.
The first time, he’d been fifteen, leaving behind years in foster care to become part of a real family. The second time, he’d been filled with excitement, ready to start his own family.
This would be a new start also, one he’d never hoped to make. He and Liam, facing an uncertain future, their family unit shattered. Hoping to stay hidden from someone who might want them dead.
The phone’s ringtone cut across his thoughts. It was Jasmine.
“Don’t take the 575 exit. I think you have a tail.”
His pulse picked up speed, and an instant sheet of moisture coated his palms. “Which vehicle?”
“The silver Mustang.”
He looked in his rearview mirror. There it was, one lane to his left, about five cars back. “Can you slow down, get a tag number?”
“I’ve tried. I think he knows I’m with you. Whenever I drop back, he does, too. Won’t give me an opportunity to read his tag.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Ernest Barrett Parkway is the next exit. Easy off, easy on.”
After he disconnected the call, Jasmine slowed down so much he almost lost sight of her. Several cars moved between them. The Mustang didn’t.
As he approached 575, the GPS told him to exit. He ignored it. Jasmine was in charge and he had no problem letting her call the shots.
After he exited I-75, the light ahead was red. He eased to a stop, then dialed her back. “Did our friend follow?”
“I’m not sure, but I think he’s behind the box truck.”
He counted the vehicles lined up in his rearview mirror. In their lane, three waited between him and Jasmine, two more between her and the box truck. Likely every one of them would turn left on Ernest Barrett. If the Mustang followed him and Jasmine back onto 75, they’d know for sure.
The light changed, and he moved forward. As he made his way up the on-ramp, two vehicles followed from Ernest Barrett, a semitruck blocking any farther view.
He completed his merge and touched the phone, still clipped into the dash mount. Jasmine’s rang four times, then went to voice mail.
Maybe she was calling the police, which meant someone was following them. A sense of protectiveness gripped him, an urge to wrap Liam in his arms so tightly no one could pry him loose.
Colton lifted his chin until the rearview mirror framed his son’s face. Sad eyes looked back at him. Brown, just like his mother’s. Liam had gotten Mandy’s eyes and Colton’s blond hair.
When his phone rang a few minutes later, he swiped the screen, heart racing while he waited for Jasmine’s update.
“Sorry, I was on the phone with 911 when you called. He followed us back onto the interstate, hanging back like before. But he knew we were onto him. He got off on Chastain Road, no signal, just whipped it over. The police know to look for the car there, but I’m not holding out high hopes.”
He wasn’t, either. “What now? Exit, then head back south to pick up 575?”
“Not knowing where that Mustang is, I say we continue north and take 411 near Cartersville. It might be a little out of the way, but it’s better than running across those guys again.”
The next two hours were uneventful. When he finally pulled onto Hilltop Road, several miles southwest of town, all of nature seemed to wrap him in a comforting embrace. He was home. The quaintness, the low crime rate, the small-town atmosphere, the feeling of having stepped back into a safer, slower, less complicated time—Murphy was still a great place to raise a child.
He stayed left where the road forked and wound his way upward. He hadn’t been back since Mandy died. For weeks, he’d stumbled around in a grief-induced fog, somehow managing after a two-week bereavement leave to return to his duties and care for Liam when he wasn’t working.
A week later, he’d gotten word that Mandy’s father had had a heart attack. Though he’d survived, it was going to be a long road to recovery. Having just lost their only child, they’d had no one to turn to.
So Colton had taken a leave of absence, loaded up Liam and headed to Montana. He wasn’t sure who had benefited the most from his trip out West. He’d gone to help his in-laws. But in those quiet moments, sitting on the back deck as the sun sank behind the mountains and daylight turned to dusk, then darkness, God had ministered to him. Little by little the frayed pieces of his heart had begun to heal.
Near the top of the hill, he pulled into a gravel drive. A huge hemlock rose from the center of the front yard, hiding the majority of the A-frame log cabin from the view of the road. Trees huddled around the other three sides of the house. The hardwoods’ limbs were bare except for the most stubborn leaves. Brown and curled, they were determined to hang on until they had no choice but to succumb to winter’s fury.
Colton put the vehicle in Park and turned in his seat. “We’re here, buddy. Our favorite place.”
The excitement he tried to inject into his tone had no effect on Liam. He didn’t expect it to. Every week, his little boy seemed to retreat a bit more into himself. And Colton had no idea how to help him. Apparently, his counselors hadn’t, either, because nothing had seemed to work.
Colton climbed from the vehicle and removed his son from the car seat. After retrieving one of the suitcases, he walked up the sidewalk, Liam’s hand in his. Halfway there, Liam broke away and ran toward the house. When he reached the front deck, he looked over one shoulder. Hope had replaced the vacancy in his eyes.
Colton’s heart swelled with emotion. Liam remembered the place.
Of course he did. It was where he’d lived the first year and a half of his life and where they’d spent almost every weekend after that until the past six months.
As soon as Colton opened the door, Liam burst through. He crossed the living room at a full run, skidded around the bar that marked the boundary of the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom to the right. Colton smiled, laughter bubbling up inside. It was the first glimpse he’d seen of the carefree little boy he used to have. Coming back to Murphy was the best thing he could have done for his son.
Liam reappeared moments later. After running into the master bedroom, he returned to the living room. His gait was shuffling, every bit of excitement gone. Had he worn himself out that quickly?
Colton dropped to one knee in front of him. “What’s the matter, buddy?”
Liam’s lower lip quivered, and his eyes filled with tears.
Colton sank the rest of the way to the floor, realization kicking him hard in the chest.
Liam wasn’t happy to be back in Murphy.
He was looking for his mother.
Colton stretched out his arms and grasped his son’s hands. “Sweetheart, Mommy’s not here.”
When he’d pulled him onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around his little body and held him tightly, rocking side to side, seeking to comfort himself as much as his son.
Movement drew his attention to the left. Jasmine stood in the open doorway, her purse hanging from her shoulder and a suitcase in each hand. She didn’t say a word, but the sympathy in her gaze spoke volumes. She’d had her own heartaches.
Maybe having her there would help ease some of Liam’s sorrow and loneliness. Maybe it would help ease some of his own.
No, Jasmine wasn’t a mother figure. And she certainly wasn’t a wife. That wasn’t why he’d hired her. He’d hired her to protect him and his son.
Once the assignment was over, she’d be gone.
No one would ever take Mandy’s place.
Not in his life or his son’s.
Jasmine parted the curtains and peered into the front yard. Late afternoon shadows stretched across the landscape. Security here was minimal. Actually, it was nonexistent, something that would be remedied this week.
