Necessary Risk (Bodyguard) (33 page)

BOOK: Necessary Risk (Bodyguard)
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“I love you, Sierra. That’s my motivation for staying safe.”

Her heart came undone, unspooling like ribbon as he slid home, his hands tight around her hips. She looked at him over her shoulder.

“I love you, Sean.” She couldn’t get the rest of her thought out around the lump pressing against her throat at the tenderness and passion in his eyes.

She heard his breathing hitch, but he continued to move, stroking in and out in a deep, deliberate rhythm. Suddenly he pulled out of her, flipped her over again, and sank back into her, his mouth urgent against hers. She wrapped her legs around his hips as they lost themselves in each other, the sounds of soft moans, the creaking mattress, and the gentle slap of skin against skin filling the room.

“Say it again,” he said, sliding his hands up to twine them with hers above her head.

“I love you.” She blinked and felt a tear slide down her cheek. He dipped his head and kissed it away, slowing his rhythm.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He kissed her neck. “Nothing to cry about. I’m here, and I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Every single cell in her body buzzed, and she couldn’t think straight. Everything was a jumble inside her, and all she knew was that she needed this man the way her lungs needed air, the way her heart needed blood, the way her body needed food.
He
was her air, her blood, her food. He was everything, and she knew that, if they didn’t deal with Sacrosanct, all of this could be snatched away from her, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Sean. She was so in love with him that the idea of anything happening to him caused her actual physical pain.

She would do whatever it took to protect not just him, but what they’d found together.

*  *  *

Sierra stretched her sore muscles, not wanting to open her eyes. The soft glow behind her eyelids told her the room was bright, and she could hear a housekeeping cart rumbling down the hallway. She turned and reached for Sean, her arm thumping against the mattress. Cocking one eye open, she listened, relaxing when she heard the quiet patter of the shower in the adjacent bathroom.

She’d drifted to sleep a few hours ago in his arms, unable to stop touching him. Wanting the comfort and reassurance of his skin against hers. She wished that they didn’t have to go back to Los Angeles this morning, that they could just stay curled up in this hotel suite together for the foreseeable future.

Her phone began to ring from her purse by the door, and she ran to answer it. Taylor’s name scrolled across the screen.

“Hey. I’m surprised you’re up. Isn’t it like, five in the morning there?” Sierra hopped back into bed, pulling the duvet around her.

“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d try and write for a while, but I got nothing. Distract me?”

“Still blocked?” She snuggled deeper into the soft mattress.

“Ugh. Yes. I haven’t written a song in months now, and I feel like I’ve forgotten how.”

“Patience. It’ll come. I think if you try to force it, you’ll make it worse.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, I didn’t call to whine about being blocked. How’s Miami? I saw your speech online, and you killed it.”

“Really? You saw it online?”

“Yeah, have you been living under a rock for the past twelve hours? It went viral, dude.”

“It did? Wow.” A thrill shot through her at the idea that thousands of people were watching her speech. If that didn’t help galvanize support for Choices’ getting the grant, she didn’t know what would.

“Yeah. Where’s Sean?”

“In the shower.” She cringed as she spoke the last word, knowing that she’d just given them away.

Taylor laughed, the sound deep and husky. “So you weren’t under a rock, but under a hot bodyguard.”

Sierra laughed too, relieved Taylor didn’t seem hurt that she’d kept it from her.

“As a penalty for holding out on me, you owe me details.”

“Oh, really? Such as?” Sierra challenged, not really wanting to share parts of Sean with anyone else.

“Is he proportional? I mean, he’s such a big dude, that I can’t help but wonder…if…
you know
.”

Sierra laughed, and even though she was alone, her cheeks warmed. “Get real. I’m not telling you how big he is.”

“Oh, come on. Ballpark. I don’t need specifics.”

“Are you that deprived?”

“Deprived? No. Depraved? Yes.”

She laughed again, smushing a hand against her face. “Like, on the Sierra Blake scale of penises?”

“Yes. Although the data on your scale probably isn’t as comprehensive as the Taylor Ross log…log. Ha. Log log.”

Sierra laughed even harder. “You should copyright that.”

“Uh-huh. Enough stalling. Spill.”

“Fine. On the Sierra Blake scale, he falls somewhere between holy shit and
unnnggnnnf
.” She made a Homer Simpson–like groaning, drooling noise.

Taylor laughed, one sharp burst. “Very scientific, this scale of yours.”

Sierra began to make an even raunchier joke when a muffled male voice on the other end of the phone stopped her. “Everything OK, babe?”

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep. Sorry.” Taylor came back on. “Still there?”

“Um, excuse me, but
who
was that?” She had a feeling she knew, but she wanted confirmation.

“Uh…it’s Zack.”

Sierra was about to ask for more info when Sean emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel knotted low around his hips. Water droplets still clung to his chest, chasing each other down his glorious muscles. Every single thought flew out of her brain.

“I have…to…go…” she said, watching with anticipation as Sean strode slowly toward her, a wicked smile on his gorgeous face.

Taylor laughed again. “I assume Sean is naked, because it sounds like your brain is sliding out through your ears.”

“I think it is. We’ll catch up when I get back.”

“Have fun with Mr. Unnnggnnnf.”

Sierra slid her thumb across the screen to end the call, watching as Sean dropped the towel to the floor.

Her phone began to buzz again from where she’d dropped it on the bed, and she glanced over at it, wanting to put it in silent mode, but froze when she saw the name on the screen: Detective Rodriguez.

She glanced up at Sean and knew that he’d seen it too, the wicked smile having been replaced with a frown. He nodded for her to answer it.

“Sierra.” Antonio’s voice was hoarse, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Antonio? Is everything OK?”

She could hear the sound of sirens and crackling radios in the background, and he cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Sierra, but there was a fire last night. Your house is gone.”

Chapter 26

S
ierra stood at the edge of her driveway, trying to make sense of the smoldering wreckage in front of her. A few of the exterior walls still stood, crumbling and charred along the tops. The roof was gone, having collapsed into the house and taking out most of the second floor with it. White smoke still rose into the sky from the ashes, although the fire had long been extinguished. They’d flown back to Los Angeles on an earlier flight than planned, but even still, it had taken nearly eight hours for them to get back from Miami. Worry and guilt had gnawed at her the entire trip.

Carter had been in the house when the fire had started. Someone had thrown several Molotov cocktails in through a window, and the fire had spread far too quickly for Carter to do anything but get out.

He could’ve died. She thought of the pictures of his son, and she wanted to throw up. She took a small step forward and noticed the graffiti scrawled across her driveway.

 

BURN
IN
HELL
BITCH

She stared at the ruins of her home, trying to wrap her head around the fact that everything was gone. All her furniture. Her clothing. Her personal items. Things that couldn’t be replaced, like photographs, her grandmother’s engagement ring. Gone. She was trying to feel something, anything, but looking at the smoke still rising into the air, she felt numb. Distantly she knew that she was probably in shock, but she didn’t know how to shake herself out of it, or if she even wanted to.

Antonio approached with Carter and a man wearing an LAFD uniform, all with smudges on their faces.

She looked over at Sean, who was talking to one of the other men from the LAFD. He must’ve seen her looking because he broke away and came toward her. Clearly any concern for confidentiality was gone because he slipped an arm around her waist and tucked her against him. With his solid, strong body sheltering hers, some of the numbness started to recede.

“Clearly this was a targeted attack,” said the LAFD officer. “I don’t know if anything from the security cameras is salvageable, but we’ll do everything we can to speed up the investigation.”

“That’s Virtus’s security system,” said Sean, “and everything backs up remotely to one of our servers. I’ll get someone working on getting you that footage ASAP. What time was the fire started?”

“Around three in the morning,” answered Carter. His voice was hoarse from smoke inhalation, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes.

Sierra nodded, starting to shake. Sean excused them, clapping Carter on the shoulder, and led her away from the scene. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

Now that the numbness was wearing off, she missed it. Numbness was better than the terror churning through her and making it difficult to do anything except shake and try not to cry.

“Everything’s gone,” she choked out, pressing her face into his chest. His arms tightened around her, and he stroked her hair. She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. “What if we’d been home? What if it wasn’t just
stuff
that was gone? What if Carter…” She trailed off, unable to keep speaking around the sobs now racking her. She glanced over at what was left of her house and cried harder, letting the loss, the fear, the sense of powerlessness pull her under.

“Shhh.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s OK, sweetheart. You’re OK.”

She pulled out of his arms, suddenly needing space. She paced away from him, hugging herself again. “I know, but I’m sick of this shit, Sean!” She pointed at the house. “If we’d been in there, we could’ve died. Carter could’ve died. And even though that didn’t happen, I’ve lost everything. I’m homeless because of this fucking garbage, and I can’t do it anymore. I’m at my wits’ end with all of this, and something has to give.” Tears made tracks down her face as she voiced the thoughts that had been churning through her the entire way home. Now, seeing the wreckage, she couldn’t keep it in anymore. She sank down onto the curb and sobbed, both for what she’d lost and for how much worse it could’ve been.

He sat down beside her, but didn’t pull her back into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was brushing everything off.” Something darkened in his eyes as he looked back at the house. “I’m so angry about this that I’m just trying to keep it together and not lose my shit on everyone here. That won’t help anything.”

She managed a tiny smile. “No, but it might entertain me.”

He returned her smile, and she brushed at a tear with the back of her hand. “I just feel like this isn’t ever going to end, and that I can’t win. If I back down, that’s not a guarantee they’ll leave me alone. Not after the video of my speech went viral. But if I don’t, this kind of shit will keep happening. They’ve tried to kill us more than once now.” She slipped her arms back around Sean’s waist and leaned her head against his broad shoulder. “This can’t keep happening.”

“The police are doing everything they can, but they don’t have a lot of concrete evidence to go on.”

“Sierra? Are you OK?” She turned at the familiar voice as Sean’s arms tightened around her, not letting her go. Jack strode toward them, his face pale, his eyes worried. His pace slowed as he took in the charred remains of the house. “Oh my God. I’d hoped it wasn’t true.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and then studied her. “You’re OK?”

She and Sean stood. “I wasn’t home. I’m OK.” She looked at Sean. “We’re OK.”

Jack glanced upward for a second before rubbing his hand over his mouth again. “Thank God.” He blew out a heavy breath, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the damage. “Listen, I got your e-mail, and I might be able to help.”

Her stomach dropped, and an itchy prickle of heat raced over her skin. She hadn’t told Sean about the e-mail, and now it looked as if she’d gone and deliberately e-mailed her ex-boyfriend behind his back. Which, OK, was kind of what she’d done, but only because she was trying to get both of them out of this situation. She chanced a glance over at Sean, whose brow was furrowed.

“What e-mail?” he asked, and she knew he was angry at being left out of the loop.

“Sierra e-mailed me asking if I could help with the investigation into Sacrosanct, that’s all. And,” he said, turning his attention back to Sierra, “I have a lead on someone who used to work for them. Someone who can give us names, descriptions, even addresses. If I can arrange a meeting, are you interested?”

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