Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’ve got it. Have a seat.” Atlas keeps the whole place stocked like we’re preparing for war, so there’s waterproof wrap in the cabinet. I kneel in front of her, and she holds out one hand.
She trusts me, even when that can’t be easy.
My own hands aren’t as steady as usual, but I wrap hers as carefully as I can.
“You fought back.” I brush my thumb over the edge of the tape on one of her knuckles. Delicate, but strong. “Someone grabbed you, but you didn’t freeze.”
Her spine straightens, and her bright blue eyes look determined. “I needed to protect the baby.”
A surge of anger hits me so hard I can taste its bitterness. I want the coward who did this to her to materialize right now, so I can make them disappear. Permanently.
Pausing before working on the wound on her shoulder, I look down at the floor and take a deep breath. Behind my anger at the faceless asshole, I’m filled with respect for the beautiful woman in front of me.
I want to guard her the way I never could the other kids in the foster homes.
“You were brave,” I tell her.
She meets my eyes, and the tightness in her expression melts away. When I finish covering her bandages, her eyes are soft. “Thank you, Grizz.”
Not Boyd. Not sir. She called me Grizz.
My chest heats as I clear my throat and step back. “I’ll be right outside the door. Yell if you get dizzy, okay?”
She smiles faintly. “Okay.”
I give her privacy, but station myself on the wall across from the bathroom door, arms crossed, alert for any sounds that might signal trouble.
This strong woman doesn’t need rescuing, but I’m standing between her and anything that might come for her, and that’s where I intend to stay.
CHAPTER 7
GRIZZ
Kira joins us for dinner that night, and I’d like to believe it was the smell of my beef pot roast that tempted her.
It’s a fancier meal than I usually make. Atlas and Viper noticed the extra fuss, but didn’t give me any shit about it.
“Clothes fit okay?” Atlas asks Kira. After her shower, she put on blue sweatpants and a long-sleeve white shirt, and both hug her curves like a Hellcat on a mountain road. Yeah, they fit good.
“Yes, thank you. They’re comfortable, too.” Her golden hair falls to her shoulders in loose waves, framing her pale face, looking impossibly soft.
Seeing her cleaned up, a hint of warm color in her cheeks, is as much of a relief as setting down a heavy load after a ten-mile hike. Dinner is like a fucking celebration.
Atlas pulls out a chair for her, and she sits. She looks around at the other nine chairs at our dining table, but doesn’t say anything.
Viper sits on her right, his posture rigid. Atlas takes a chair to her left, and I settle in across from them, where I have the best view of our guest.
Kira’s hands, one still bandaged and sealed from the shower, rest on the table. She gives me a small smile. “Dinner smells amazing.”
“Hope you’re hungry,” Atlas says as he lifts the lid off the pot I put in the middle of the table. “Grizz knows his way around the kitchen.”
She nods, polite but hesitant. Her first meal with three strangers after the trauma she’s been through? She’s pushing herself to be out here with us, and I respect the hell out of that.
We all dig in, and the table’s quiet for a few minutes apart from Kira complimenting the food. With the bruises on her jaw in mind, I cooked the meat until it was fall-apart tender.
Atlas makes some small talk about the weather, and I join in. After another break in conversation, Kira clears her throat.
“So the three of you live here together? And run a business here?”
Atlas is the one to answer. “We served together in the Marines. Long time ago now. After we got out, we started doing security consulting.”
Her brows knit, thoughtful. “Security … like guards?”
“We specialize in risk assessment and threat analysis,” Atlas explains. “We also do surveillance.”
“We help people who need it,” I add.
She processes this for a few seconds. “Does anyone else know you found me?”
Atlas pauses, fork in hand. “No, ma’am. We understand you needed to run from someone, and we intend to keep you safe.” As her shoulders relax, he says, “To protect you properly, we need to know who you were running from.”
Her hands are trembling. Viper slides her glass of water closer to her without saying a word.
Her voice is barely above a whisper when she says, “My fiancé. Ex-fiancé. Preston Vaughn.”
Viper glances at Atlas. No surprise, only confirmation. With her first name and the clues of her expensive clothing and jewelry, and her wedding date, Viper found the wedding announcement online.
“The senator,” Viper says.