Lisa Childs - Watching Over Her

“I’m not Blaine Campbell,” he agreed with a short chuckle. “My name is Ash Stryker. I’m also an FBI agent and a friend of Blaine’s.”

“Is he okay?” she asked. “Is he here?” She struggled to sit up, ready to jump out of bed and go to him.

Ash shook his head. “No. He’s not here. That’s why he asked me to stay with you.”

“But is he okay?” she asked, and her panic grew. Had Blaine asking Ash to stay with her been his deathbed request? Was that why he wasn’t there?

Because he was gone? Dead and gone?

Ash nodded, but he had that same telltale signal of stress that Blaine did. A muscle twitched in his cheek. Maybe that twitch wasn’t just betraying his stress but his lie—like a gambler’s tell in a poker game.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking as hysteria threatened. “I don’t believe you. I saw the roof collapse. He couldn’t have gotten out of there without some injuries.”

Serious injuries.

Fatal injuries.

The man flinched as if he’d felt Blaine’s pain. “He has some bumps and scratches,” he admitted. “And a couple of small burns. But he’s fine. Or I wouldn’t be here.”

Even though Blaine had asked him? But then, he would have been too distraught over the loss of his friend to worry about her.

Maybe Blaine wasn’t gone.

The dark-haired man sighed. “Of course, I have no place to go right now...”

“It was your house he was staying at,” she realized. And that Blaine had let her stay at, as well. He should have taken her to a motel. It might not have protected her, but it would have protected Ash Stryker’s house. “I’m sorry...”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he assured her.

“But whoever set the fire is after me ,” she said. “So I feel responsible.” She felt responsible for the house and for those injuries Blaine had suffered. How badly had he really been hurt?

Agent Stryker moved closer to the bed and assured her, “You’re not responsible for any of this.”

“I wish that was true,” she said. “I shouldn’t have stayed at your house. I shouldn’t have stayed with Blaine.” Or made love and fallen in love with Blaine.

He chuckled. “Blaine was right...”

“What was he right about?”

“He said that you couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the robberies,” Ash said. “He said that you’re too good a person to be consciously involved.”

He thought she was a good person?

“I figured Blaine was only thinking that because he grew up with sisters and has this whole chivalry thing going on,” Ash said.

She nodded. “He is very chivalrous and protective.” The man was a hero like she had never known.

“I also guessed that you’re pretty,” he said.

She didn’t feel pretty now. She felt bedraggled from the smoke. Maybe it was good that Blaine wasn’t there. He would have regretted sleeping with her.

Maybe he did regret it. Maybe that was why he wasn’t here—with her. Had he even checked on her?

“Where is Blaine?” she asked.

Ash sighed. “He’s determined to end this,” he said. “He wants these guys caught.”

“He wants to avenge Sarge’s death,” she said. “Sarge is—”

“I knew Sarge, too,” Ash said with a grimace of regret and loss. “He was also my drill instructor.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he said. “None of this is your fault. Blaine is going to prove that. He’s going to find out who the hell is responsible and bring them to justice.”

She breathed a small sigh of relief. He had to be okay, then. He had to be strong enough to want revenge. But her breath caught again as she realized that he was putting himself in more danger.

“You should be with him,” she said. “You should make sure he’s really all right. The doctors wanted to keep me here because they’re worried about my lungs having a delayed reaction to all that smoke. I think it’s called hypoxia.” That was why they were keeping her on oxygen.

Blaine wouldn’t have oxygen with him. He wouldn’t have anyone to help him if hypoxia kicked in, depriving his body of oxygen. He could die.

He wasn’t just in danger from whoever was trying to kill them. He was in danger from his own body shutting down on him.

That muscle twitched in Ash’s cheek again. He was worried, too. Blaine must have checked himself out against doctor’s orders.

“Have you heard from him?” she asked.

He shook his head.

Maybe it was already too late to help Blaine.

Chapter Sixteen

Maggie was okay. So was her baby. Blaine hadn’t left the hospital until he’d learned that. He hadn’t left the hospital until Ash had shown up. He wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to protect her. He probably shouldn’t have trusted Hernandez and Jackson since he wasn’t sure how the robbers had discovered where Maggie was staying.

He’d been so careful to avoid being followed—to avoid anyone discovering where he had hidden her. But he hadn’t kept her safe. Ash would. Or at least he would try...the way Sarge had tried.

Maggie was in too much danger. She and her baby had survived this time. But eventually their luck would run out.

Blaine had to focus on finding the robbers. He couldn’t think about her—or what they’d done right before the fire started. He couldn’t think about anything but suspects.

He was determined to find the one who had so far eluded him. So he went back to Mark Doremire’s house.

His wife opened the door and stared at him through eyes wide with surprise. At first he thought it might have been because of the hour; it was barely dawn. But she was looking at him instead of the sky.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He felt as if a roof had fallen on him. But then, it had. He’d been fortunate to come out with only a few scrapes and light burns. The firemen had used their own bodies to protect him. His lungs burned, though, from all the smoke he’d inhaled. The doctor hadn’t authorized him to leave the hospital. He’d wanted to keep Blaine for observation—something about a delayed reaction to smoke inhalation.

But Blaine felt time running out since each attack on Maggie had been harder for her and for him to survive. So he had refused to stay and checked himself out against the doctor’s orders.

“No, I’m not fine,” he admitted. “I’m about to arrest you for obstruction of justice if you don’t tell me where your husband is hiding.”

She shrugged but continued to block the doorway to the kitchen the best she could with her thin frame. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

He could have pushed her aside and searched her house. But he’d had someone watching it—someone with thermal imaging who’d detected only one person inside the house. Mark really wasn’t there. “You don’t know where your husband is?”

She shook her head. “I figured he was following Maggie around like his brother used to. But it seems as though you’re doing that now.”

“I’m just doing my job,” he said. But it was a lie. Protecting Maggie had less to do with his job than with his heart. He had fallen for her.

And just as Dalton Reyes and his boss had warned him, he’d gotten distracted. Because of that, he had nearly lost his life and hers, as well. He had to put aside his feelings for her and focus only on the case. He wasn’t going to be like Special Agent Bell and leave this case unsolved.

The younger Mrs. Doremire snorted derisively as she recognized his lie. “So you’ve let sweet Maggie get to you, too,” she said. “Something about her makes a man feel more important, more manly. That’s what killed Andy. That dumb kid actually thought he could be a soldier—for her.”