Sara K. Parker - Shattered Trust

One week of 24/7 work covertly guarding the adult daughter of a federal judge had seemed like the perfect assignment—low threat and all expenses paid in a prime resort on the beach. There’d been no indication that Natalie was in any kind of danger, that there would be any threat against her. Her father had simply wanted to be sure she was okay.

She wasn’t.

Not by a long shot.

The attacker tracked Luke’s every move, eyes gleaming above the bandanna. Then his grip on Natalie loosened, the knife moving away from her neck as he jabbed it toward Luke.

“Back off,” he growled. “Or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

He jabbed the knife again, and Natalie shifted, meeting Luke’s eyes.

She was going to try to break free, Luke was sure of it.

“Don’t—” he started to say, but she was already moving, dropping all of her weight against the arm that held her. Her assailant stumbled, and she twisted, darting to the side as the knife arced through the air. Luke sprang forward, shoving the guy with both hands, the blade barely missing his face. He thought it might have glanced off Natalie’s shoulder, but he couldn’t be sure. He was too focused on the fight, on getting the advantage and keeping the attacker from doing any more damage.

Grabbing the guy’s wrist, he twisted it up behind his back until the knife dropped to the ground. He kicked it away, sand covering the gleaming blade.

“Run!” Luke yelled to Natalie, wrestling the attacker down into too-soft sand that made a locked grip nearly impossible.

Natalie ran, all right. Straight to her beach chair and her overloaded bag.

For about three seconds, Luke thought she was going for the bag because she didn’t want to leave her valuables behind. Then she was back, swinging the bag toward the man’s head.

It hit the man’s shoulder, glancing off his head with a muffled thud.

“Natalie, run!” Luke repeated.

Too late. The assailant snagged her ankle with his free hand, yanking hard enough to unbalance her. She fell sideways, knocking into Luke with enough force to send them both falling. He grabbed her automatically, cushioning her fall as they both rolled into the sand.

Before Luke could right himself, the attacker was sprinting away, Natalie’s bag under his arm.

“Hey!” she yelled, and darted forward to run after him.

Luke caught her arm. “Let him go.”

“He took my bag.”

“Better than taking your life.” He pulled out his phone and shone the flashlight on a dark stain on the shoulder of her light blue T-shirt.

Natalie frowned, pulling the fabric aside and eyeing a three-inch cut on her shoulder.

“Here.” Luke bent down and snapped up her towel, handing it to her. “Press this to your shoulder.”

He shrugged out of his light jacket and used it to pick up the discarded knife, depositing the weapon into a pocket of his tactical pants. He was anxious to get back to the hotel, to get a better look at the cut. That had been close. If he’d arrived even a few minutes later... He wouldn’t let himself think about that. He’d gotten there on time, and Natalie was safe. No thanks to the gun Luke had been forced to leave at home because of international travel restrictions.

To think he’d barely blinked when his boss, Roman DeHart, had informed him he’d have to travel unarmed. He’d need to give Roman a call about the incident, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. Not that Roman would give him flak. The two had been longtime friends before Luke had started working at Shield Protection Services. But Roman wouldn’t relish having to break the news to Judge Harper that his daughter had ended up in the hospital with a knife wound on her first night in Mexico.

A protective arm at Natalie’s back, Luke quickly led the way up the beach and onto the sandy path back to the Riu de Sueños Hotel. Coconut palms and sea-grape trees lined the path, offering plenty of cover for anyone who might want to lie in wait for unsuspecting tourists.

Was that what the assailant had been? An opportunist? Someone who’d seen an easy mark and acted?

Luke studied the shadows, looking for signs that they weren’t alone, but he saw no one. The ocean’s rush mingled with a whisper of wind through the treetops and the quiet murmur of conversation from hotel guests who stood on balconies and patios.

A normal evening along the Riviera.

Except that Natalie was hurt, her attacker on the loose, her belongings stolen.

Lively music echoed from the hotel, the sound of voices beckoning the pair to safety. He picked up the pace, and Natalie had no trouble keeping up.

As soon as the glass doors slid open and Natalie and Luke stepped inside, he discreetly led her to the front desk and asked for hotel security.

The desk attendant glanced at the pair with curiosity, but with Natalie’s wound covered, her injury wasn’t apparent.

“One moment, sir,” the woman said, and picked up her radio to contact security.

Several long minutes later, a lone security officer walked casually toward them, his polished dress shoes knocking along the tile floor.

“I am Officer Canto. How may I help you?” he asked, his English as perfect as his tailored navy uniform. A young guy, new to security, Luke judged.

“This woman was attacked at knifepoint on the beach,” Luke responded. “She’s injured. Her attacker dropped the weapon and ran off with her purse.”

The security officer’s attention shifted to Natalie, his bland expression unchanged. “You are injured?” he asked, as if requiring proof.

Natalie lifted the towel from her shoulder, and Officer Canto’s eyes widened at the bloodstained fabric. “Please, follow me,” he said, his voice urgent now. He walked at a clipped pace, speaking rapid-fire Spanish into his radio as they followed.

Luke wasn’t impressed. If the mere sight of a little blood was all it took to send the guy into panic mode, Luke didn’t plan to entrust their safety to him or his team. But they would have to follow protocol and file a report, at least, so he didn’t see any other option but to follow him as the officer ushered them down the hall behind the lobby. He finally opened a door into a small office with a single desk and three padded folding chairs. No windows.

“Please, sit. I will get a fresh towel.” The officer left the room, shutting the door behind him. Natalie sat, but Luke remained standing, fighting the urge to open the door to the hallway. Some people felt safer in enclosed spaces. Luke felt trapped.

If a first-grade teacher hadn’t cared enough to push for answers, Luke might have died in the closet his mother’s boyfriend had locked him in years ago. Four days alone in the dark with no food and barely any water? That did a number on a person. He eyed the door. He wasn’t a scrawny seven-year-old anymore. He pushed the unwanted memory away and focused on Natalie.

“Let me take a look at that,” Luke said, gently taking the towel from her and pushing the bloodstained T-shirt away from her shoulder.

She winced, her face devoid of color, amber eyes flashing pain.

“It’s pretty deep. Better keep pressure on it,” he said, setting the towel back in place. “I’m no doctor, but it looks like you’ll need some stitches.”

“I should have stayed home,” she muttered.

“You couldn’t have known you’d be attacked on the beach,” Luke pointed out, but could see his words didn’t have much effect, her eyes sad. A light spattering of freckles made her look younger than her twenty-nine years. Her near-white blond hair was short and wavy, a delicate pearl hair pin askew over one ear. He’d been informed about her fiancé standing her up at the altar. She’d decided to go on her honeymoon anyway, and by all rights, she should have been able to enjoy a few quiet evenings on a beach after something like that.