Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“No,” Leo replied. “He killed two men and took nothing. He’ll be back.”
“Shit,” I breathed. “Stalker?”
“That’s what I’m leaning toward. I don’t have all the details yet. What I do know is Arrow doesn’t have a replacement for Marty, so we got the call.”
“Wait. Why us? There’s gotta be someone closer. Let me call around. I still have some contacts out there.”
“There’s no time. She needs private protection immediately. LAPD is good at chasing down criminals, and I’m sure they’ll catch this guy in no time. But I’m not keen on trusting them with a situation this complex. They currently have her holed up in a penthouse. Two men posted on the elevator with hotel security running the rest.”
“That’s not exactly nothing.”
“No. But it’s sure as hell not enough. Not for someone patient. Not for someone who already slipped through the cracks once.”
“They’ve got manpower and resources,” I pressed. “I’m sure I have time to make some calls.”
Leo stepped around me, his perpetual scowl easing a fraction. “Manpower doesn’t equal competence. And resources don’t mean urgency. Hotel security has no idea what they are doing other than clocking in and out every eight hours. Too many cooks in the kitchen and communication dies completely. All it takes is one guy assuming someone else checked the door. You know this, and in any other town, any other client, you’d be the first one on the plane. If you can’t handle it—”
“I can handle it,” I replied on sheer instinct. Not wanting to do something and being questioned on whether you could were two totally different things. One had to do with preference. The other ego. Testosterone was a hell of a drug like that.
I held his gaze, my breath stalling in my chest.
Dammit.
Fucking fucking dammit.
Cornered, with nowhere to go but the airport, my breath left me on a suffering sigh. “How long?”
“Month, maybe two. Just until we find someone permanent.”
“Right.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’ll need to pack and shut down my place.”
Johnson spoke up from across the room. “Plane leaves in two hours.”
I started to protest the timeline when he gave me a more dire battle. “Apollo, you’re coming with us.”
My head snapped up. “The hell he is!”
The kid behind the computer parroted my sentiment with a string of expletives. “What for? I’m no bodyguard.”
“No,” Johnson replied. “And this isn’t a simple bodyguard situation either. This woman needs a full security detail until the cops can catch this asshole. If I recall correctly, you were pretty damn good at the illegal stalking thing when it came to your sister. Make yourself useful and see if you can get ahead of this piece of shit. Save us all some time.”
“I can do that from here. It’s called the Internet. Real revolutionary shit.”
“Yeah, but the idea of you being halfway across the country so I don’t have to see your ugly mug every day is too appealing to pass up.”
Apollo scowled.
Leo chuckled.
And I was out of options and arguments, so I sucked it up, went home, packed a bag, and boarded a plane straight to hell.
The moment I stepped off the plane, the stench of decay hit me like a sucker punch. It wasn’t the aroma of smoke or garbage. No, the winds in LA carried something far more vile: the putrid scent of rotting humanity, all in the pursuit of more.
More money.
More fame.
More power.
The city itself was fine. Once upon a time, I’d made it my home. Good people existed there. Friendly faces at the local grocery store. A neighbor always willing to help. Families playing in the park. But those weren’t the people who needed my services. I was stuck with the crowd who draped themselves in designer clothes as if they could hide secrets beneath them.
“Wipe that look off your face,” Johnson rumbled from behind the wheel of a black Cadillac Escalade.
I peered out the window, watching the palm trees pass by.
Silver lining: At least it wasn’t San Francisco. That was one dot on the map I’d never revisit.
“Shit luck. I only got one face,” I replied.
“You’re gonna have two when Leo splits your skull in half if you don’t quit pouting and pull your shit together.”
In the side mirror, I caught sight of Leo and Apollo in the SUV behind us. I’d chosen to ride with Johnson, more desperate than ever for his stoic silence. But, of course, that was the one day he caught a case of the Chatty Cathy.
“This your first time back?” he asked.
“First and last.”
“Jude and Rhion have a place here. It’s crazy nice, right on the beach. Big-ass rooftop pool and everything.”
“Stalkers rarely allow days off for sunbathing. My to-do list here is short. Get in, do my damn job, and then get the fuck out with a fat paycheck and a notch on the old résumé for the day when I’ve finally had enough of Guardian’s bullshit.”