Hiding From Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 2) (7 page)

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Authors: Olivia Jaymes

Tags: #Comtemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Investigator, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Danger, #Military, #Waitress, #Hiding, #Abusive Ex, #Montana, #Passionate, #Trust, #Past, #Protection, #Detective, #Affair, #Law Enforcement, #Leaving, #Adult, #Erotic

BOOK: Hiding From Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 2)
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“Thanks again. I mean that.”

West had assured Gigi that he’d marshal every resource he could find to keep her safe and resolve the tangled mess of her life. He could do it by himself but it would be a hell of a lot easier – and faster – with Jason and his crew helping.

“Just keep an eye on your girl. Eventually she’ll get used to the idea she doesn’t have to be scared anymore.”

West could only hope that would be the case and that when she wasn’t terrified every day of her life she’d find a way to let someone in. Be vulnerable. Trust.

He wanted to be that man.

Chapter Eight


“A
re you hungry?”
West asked Gigi when she woke the next morning and wandered into the kitchen where he was tapping away at his laptop.

She looked deliciously rumpled and his first thought had been to take her immediately back to bed and stay there for the rest of the day. His second thought was that they still had too much to discuss. And the fact that he was still kind of pissed off that she’d been keeping this huge secret from him all this time. She hadn’t trusted him in the least. “We could go get something to eat.”

“I’m supposed to have the flu, remember? We have to stay in.” Gigi yawned and stretched her arms over her head. The motion lifted her tank top, displaying a strip of skin that he knew felt like satin underneath his fingertips. Going back to bed was looking better and better with each passing minute. Damn, he was such a horndog around this little bit of woman. “I can cook breakfast.”

“I won’t argue. I got an email from Jason early this morning. He thinks the Zachary Rogers in Vegas has a good chance of being your brother. He moved there from right here in Montana where he was working on a ranch.”

If West doubted Gigi’s love for her brother or her determination to find him he wouldn’t after seeing her blooming smile. She looked positively radiant. His chest tightened painfully at the thought of all she’d been through in her young life. He only wished he’d been around much sooner to make all of this go away.

Of course once she was free and safe there was no guarantee she was going to want to stick around a backwater town in Montana. To be honest he didn’t know if they truly had any sort of future. He only knew what they’d had wasn’t satisfying but what they could be wasn’t clear yet. They were in some strange sort of limbo and it didn’t feel comfortable. It wasn’t the moment to talk about love but they’d gone past the casual stage. Basically it was put up or shut up time. They either moved forward together or went their separate ways. It would be hard but he had to be prepared for that eventuality.

“Then I was right when I followed his trail here?” Gigi asked excitedly. “I must have just missed him. I feel like I’ve been three steps behind him for years. Did they find anything on Aubrey?”

“No, but it’s still early yet. Give them some time. They did find out quite a bit about your ex, though.”

Gigi wrinkled her nose as she cracked eggs into a bowl. “Nothing pleasant I’m guessing.”

“He’s got his fingers in more than just nightclubs apparently. Did you know he did time before he met you? For assault. And the last few years he’s been on the FBI’s radar for possible RICO violations, money laundering and illegal gambling just to name a few. He has a bar on Division Street that they think is a front for a gambling den. Were you aware of it?”

“I worked there,” Gigi replied with a grimace before pouring the egg mixture into a skillet and sliding bread slices into the toaster. “I tended bar a few nights a week in the beginning. I guess there could have been gambling going on. He had a private room upstairs for his VIPs but I never worked in it. After awhile he never let me go there at all.”

“VIPs. Just another word for people with more money than morals.” He’d already thought the guy was major slime even before Jason had called this morning.

“So when do we leave for Vegas? I don’t want Zach to pick up and move on again before we can find him.”

“Easy there.” West held up his hand at her eagerness. Plans were still in progress. “We’ll get there and we won’t miss him. Now that we have an idea of who we think he is, we’ll keep an eye on him. If he goes anywhere we’ll be right behind him.”

Gigi filled two plates with the scrambled eggs and toast. “I’ve waited so long to see him, I’m anxious. What are we waiting for? We could be on the road after breakfast.”

Damn, the eggs were good. Gigi put some kind of spice in it that she’d brought from her apartment. West had been on his own for years and managed quite well but food always tasted better when someone else cooked it. “Not today. We’re not just going to take off without a plan, a backup plan, and a backup backup plan. If Morton is after you my job is to make sure he doesn’t come anywhere near us. That means preparation is key.”

Grumbling under her breath, she half-heartedly dug into her breakfast. “You’re being bossy again.”

“That’s probably only going to get worse before it gets better,” West teased, finally getting a smile from his gorgeous breakfast companion. “I take this seriously, babe. Nothing and no one is going to hurt you ever again.”

“You seem so sure. Alan told me that if he couldn’t have me no one could. That means he doesn’t just want to kill me. He wants to kill you too. That doesn’t bother you?”

West placed both of their empty plates in the dishwasher. It was time for Gigi to see that he could handle what was ahead. It also wouldn’t be a bad idea to teach her a few self-defense techniques.

Just in case.

“When I was in the Middle East there were thousands of people that wanted me dead so…no. It doesn’t bother me. Or scare me.” He dropped a kiss on her nose, catching a whiff of her shampoo. Vanilla and something else. Fresh and clean. He’d never smell that scent again without thinking of her. “If your tummy is full I have some plans for us today. And don’t worry about anyone seeing us. We’re heading to the ranch.”

The Anderson family ranch was the perfect place to blow off some steam. She was tense and worried a state which wasn’t going to go away on its own.

“The ranch? What for?”

“For a shooting lesson. Then maybe a fighting lesson. My dad never took down the boxing ring he built for us boys. You can work on your aggressions by beating the shit out of me. How does that sound?”

He didn’t imagine how her eyes lit up and her smile widened. “I can’t wait. But I warn you, I have a mean right hook.”

West fervently hoped that was true. Before this was all over, she might need it.

*     *     *

Gigi pulled back
her right arm and delivered a sharp upper cut to West’s flat abdomen with her leather gloved hand, sending a shock wave all the way to her own shoulder. His torso had to be solid concrete. Instead of flinching or wincing, he’d grinned and danced around the ring before placing a soft tap to her chin as a reminder.

For the third time in the last ten minutes.

She kept dropping her arms. If she did this in a real fight she’d have a broken jaw or a black eye.

“Keep your hands up to protect your face, babe. Don’t let me get a chance at it. Now try that kick again.”

Faking a left hook, she kicked her right foot out in a kind of circle and connected with the heavy pad on the back of West’s knee waiting for him to go down. He didn’t budge.

“Do it again and harder this time,” he urged with a grin. “Pretend I’m Alan.”

Dancing round the ring on her tiptoes, she gathered all her strength and kicked as hard as she could, her instep landing with a thud against the padding. She grunted at the contact but raised her arms in victory adding in a rebel yell when West’s knee almost hit the floor. He’d recovered quickly but if he hadn’t been wearing those pads she could have really hurt him.

A rush of adrenaline ran through her and she punched at his solar plexus a few times before he – much to her frustration – tapped her on the chin again. She dropped her feet flat on the floor and stood still, groaning out loud in irritation. Covered in sticky sweat, Gigi had never been much of an athlete. She didn’t like being dirty and she didn’t like being uncomfortable. It wasn’t a great combination for a woman who might need to defend herself against a violent asshole.

“What’s wrong? You’re doing great. That kick was epic. You almost had me down.”

Bending over and resting her gloves on her knees, she gulped air into her starved lungs. “Almost doesn’t count.”

“It sure as hell does. Anytime you make it harder for your opponent to keep hurting you it’s a win. Coming out of a physical altercation completely unscathed is not likely. You’re trying to keep your injuries to a minimum while maximizing his so you can run away. All you’re looking for is an opportunity to get away. That’s it. You can’t take him on toe to toe. You’ll need to fight dirty and fast. He won’t expect it.”

“Let’s hope I never have to use this.”

“It’s always good to know how to defend yourself. A couple of times a year I teach a course for women over at the Y.” He pulled off his headgear and began to strip off the knee pads. “But I haven’t taught you the most important move yet. Are you ready?”

Ready for two ibuprofen and a tall glass of iced tea. Fat chance.

West appeared to be serious about this. She stood up straight and nodded. “I’m ready.”

“When an attacker comes for you, scream and scream loudly. Either yell 9-1-1 or ‘fire.’ Do not yell ‘help.’ You want people to come toward you not run away.”

Was she supposed to shout now?

“Go ahead. Don’t hold back. Give it to me as loud as you can.”

He’d asked for it. Gigi threw back her head and let out an eardrum busting, bloodcurdling scream. West jumped back a few steps before clapping his hands together in satisfaction. “That’s exactly what I was talking about. You’ve got a hell of a set of lungs. I never dreamed you could do that. You always seem so quiet.”

“Try being heard over a bunch of foster kids at the dinner table or when playing outside. If I wanted anyone to listen I had to make sure I was louder than everyone else. Practice makes perfect.”

“It was like that at the Anderson dinner table too. Which reminds me, Mom invited us to lunch up at the house. After we eat, we’ll go out to one of the empty pastures and practice shooting. Do you know anything about guns?”

“I may not be able to beat a man into the ground but I can shoot pretty well. I own a handgun and I know what to do with it. After I left Alan it was my number one priority.”

West’s brows shot up but he looked anything but convinced. “After lunch you can show me. Maybe I can give you a few tips.”

Gigi wasn’t so confident she didn’t think she could improve. Learning from a real cop and a former soldier could only sharpen her skills. “Thanks, that sounds good.” She pulled her damp t-shirt away from her body and grimaced. “I’m not sure I’m fit to be a guest in anyone’s home though. I probably stink. No one wants that at their dinner table.”

West began unlacing her gloves. “You can take a shower at the house. Leann has some clothes there that will probably fit you pretty well. Don’t say no because Mom has her heart set on this.”

Gigi liked West’s parents very much but she’d always kept a certain distance between them knowing she would eventually be on her way.

“Do they know?”

“Only what they needed to know. You have a nasty ex and he’s stalking you. They also know I’m helping you find your brother and sister. But I didn’t get into the details.”

She hoped she’d never have to tell them. It had been bad enough digging up all the skeletons for West without having to do it again. “I bet they wish you were dating someone else. Heck, anyone else.”

She turned to head back to the truck but his arm stayed her movement. “Don’t even go there. I love my parents but I’m a grown ass man and they don’t get a vote as to who I’m with. If they don’t like it – and I’ve seen no evidence that is the case – then they’re just going to have to be unhappy. I stopped letting my mother pick my playmates when I was in the first grade.”

His well-shaped lips were curved in a smile showing off that dimple in his cheek. “Playmate, huh? Is that what I am?”

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