Lisa Childs - Guarding His Witness

“What the hell did you say?” he asked his caller to repeat himself.

“Clint Quarters showed up at her apartment first,” the guy replied.

This was a new member of Luther’s crew, someone he’d hired specifically to make sure this trial never took place. But he wasn’t certain he could trust the man. But hell, Javier Mendez had proved to him that he couldn’t trust anyone. And then when he’d put bullets in the kid, Luther had proved that anyone who dared to cross him would die.

Too bad Javier’s stubborn sister hadn’t learned that lesson yet. But she would. It would be the last thing Rosie ever learned.

“And before we could get to her,” the guy continued, “they jumped out a window.”

Clint Quarters.

He was one of those damn people who had no price. Like Rosie...

Maybe his guys had it wrong. Maybe she’d shoved Quarters out the window.

Did it matter? All that mattered to Luther was that she not testify against him. He didn’t care why. And he certainly didn’t care if Clint Quarters had died with her. Actually he would prefer that Clint died.

And not Rosie.

He’d always had a soft spot for her since they’d been kids in grade school together. Rosie had always been so sweet and serious and smart. That soft spot was why he’d waited so long to put out the hit on her. But running his business from jail was getting old. That was why he’d put the plan into motion to eliminate the eyewitness. It was past time that he get out again.

And there was no way in hell he was ever going to prison.

* * *

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Rosie shrieked at the crazy man driving erratically through the streets of River City. Of course, that erratic driving might have had something to do with the wound to his shoulder. Blood streaked down the leather sleeve of his torn jacket. She didn’t know if he’d been shot or if he’d hurt it when he’d hurtled them both through her apartment window.

She couldn’t stop shaking as fear and adrenaline continued to course through her. Her fingers trembled too much for her to even pull the safety belt across her lap. But she needed to—as he careened around a corner and her body slammed against the passenger’s door. “Are you trying to kill us?”

She’d thought for certain that she was going to die when they’d catapulted through that window of her third-floor apartment. But there had been a dumpster beneath it, and somehow Clint had turned so that she fell on top of him. He was the one who’d hit whatever had been in the dumpster. She suspected he’d also hit the edge of the rusted metal bin.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t get killed,” he told her through gritted teeth.

Was he gritting his teeth because he was in pain?

She should have been happy that he was, after all the pain he’d put her through. But instead she felt concern. Maybe that was just because she’d been a nurse for so long. She couldn’t not react to someone who was hurt, no matter who that person was.

She glanced behind them. “Nobody’s following us.” She couldn’t imagine how they could with the way he was driving. “Pull over.”

“I am not letting you out of this vehicle,” he told her—again through gritted teeth.

“What?” She didn’t want out. She didn’t even know where the hell they were. But his telling her that she couldn’t...

Suddenly made her want out very badly.

“Are you kidnapping me?” she asked as even more adrenaline rushed through her.

“I’m protecting you,” he said.

She shook her head. “You’re not a policeman anymore.”

He’d quit—right after Javier’s murder. The detective who’d arrested Luther Mills had told her. She’d been surprised that Clint hadn’t wanted Luther’s arrest for himself since he’d sacrificed her brother to get it. But then she’d refused to give her eyewitness account to him. She’d refused to talk to him at all until he’d had the gall to show up at the funeral. Then she’d said plenty.

“No, I’m not a cop anymore,” Clint admitted. “I’m a bodyguard.”

“Well, I sure as hell didn’t hire you to protect me,” she said. Even if she could have afforded private security, she would not have paid for his services.

“The police chief hired the agency I work for now,” he replied. “The Payne Protection Agency.”

“The police chief?” she asked skeptically. He had a whole police force at his disposal. Why would he hire a private security company?

Clint shrugged and a grimace contorted his handsome face. He was definitely hurt. “Luther has information he shouldn’t. He’s gotten to people in the police department and the DA’s office,” he said.

Panic had her gasping. “The police officer who was protecting me?” What the hell was his name? Officer Maynard. She remembered now, because she’d thought Javier would have teased him about his name. And he couldn’t be much older than her brother.

“Maybe,” he said. “I didn’t see who was shooting at us. But even if it was him, he wasn’t the only one shooting. You can’t trust anyone.”

No. She couldn’t. But she couldn’t wrap her mind around that young officer trying to kill her.

“But he could have taken me out any time.” A chill chased down her spine, making her tremble even more than she had been. “Why...”

“Luther gave the order that it was to happen tonight,” he said.

That was why Clint had shown up at her door when he had. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand?” he asked. “He doesn’t want you to testify.”

“But if he has me killed, he’ll do time for my murder,” she pointed out. “Either way, he winds up in prison.”

Clint shook his head now. “He’s smarter than that. He’s been careful with what he’s said. Nothing would be admissible in court.”

“Then how can you be sure?” she asked.

He took his gaze from the street to stare at her for a moment. “After the shooting, how can you ask that?”

“Maybe they were shooting at you,” she suggested. “I’m sure you have more enemies than I do.”

“Nope,” he said. “Just you.”

She glared at him, but he was focused on the road again and probably missed it. “I highly doubt that.” He had to have made a lot of arrests in his years as a vice cop. “Luther could have ordered a hit on you.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset if I got hit in the cross fire,” Clint agreed.

“Were you?” she asked. “You need to pull over, so I can look at your shoulder.”

He glanced down at it as if he hadn’t realized he was bleeding. “We’re almost there.”

“Where?” she asked. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the Payne Protection Agency,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t want a bodyguard,” she said.

“You need one.”

After the shooting, she really couldn’t argue with him, especially if the officer really had been one of the people shooting at her. But there was one thing she could refuse. “I don’t want you.”

* * *

I don’t want you.

Clint wasn’t surprised. He knew she hated him—that she blamed him for her brother’s death. She wasn’t the only one who held him responsible. He did, too.

I don’t want you.

Those words hung in the air between them in the SUV. She didn’t want him, but he wanted her. He had since the first moment he’d seen her. She was beautiful in a way that went deeper than her golden skin. But even back then, when they’d first met, she hadn’t liked him. She’d known—before Javier died—that working with Clint would get him killed.

Regret and remorse hung heavy on his shoulders, hurting more than the wound he hadn’t noticed until she’d mentioned it. He was surprised she wanted to check it. But true to her word, once he pulled the SUV into the parking lot of Payne Protection, she was reaching over the console.