Author: Roni Loren
She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she was going into some stage of shock. “Why are you doing this?”
He twisted his college ring round and round his finger. “I haven’t changed that much since we dated. The stakes have just gotten higher.”
She thought back to all the times she’d lent him a few bucks here and there, the time he needed rent money in their junior year but really spent it playing cards.
“I owed money to some dangerous people. I needed help.” He met her eyes, having the nerve to wear a poor-me expression.
“Right. So my head instead of yours?” she said, disgusted. She signed the termination notice with a hard flourish and stood. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. Rot in hell, Trey.”
“Maybe I already am. But don’t slip up, Charli,” he said, his tone foreboding. “They’re not going to stop watching you.”
She stalked out of the office, her head held high despite the riotous emotions blending her insides. But before she reached her desk, she had to run into one of the bathrooms and vomit. The fear of what could’ve been overwhelmed her.
She’d lost her story, her job, and the childhood dream she’d set out for herself.
But she was alive.
And there was only one person to thank for that.
Grant’s hand was slick against the steering wheel as he raced back toward town. Please, God, please. The chant was about the only cogent thought he could manage for the last ten minutes. He tried to dial Charli’s number again, but she wasn’t answering at work or on her cell. He cursed, then hit another number on speed dial.
“Hey Grant, what’s up?” Andre said, answering on the second ring.
“Are you on duty?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need you to go over to where Charli—the sub you met the other night—works and find her. I’m on my way but still a while out and if you’re in uniform, they’ll cooperate quicker.”
“What’s going on?”
“I think her boss may be a danger to her,” Grant said, his heart beating like an out-of-time marching band. “The GPS says her car is still there, but I can’t get her to answer the phone and the secretary hasn’t seen her.”
“Give me the address.”
Grant rattled off the location and clicked off the phone. He’d followed that scum Pete from the diner and around town until the guy had finally headed home. Grant hadn’t wanted any witnesses for what he was planning to do. Charli had told him to leave the guy alone, but Grant knew how to extract information without leaving a mark. And nothing brought out the sadist in him more than an asshole who threatened women.
Grant had thought he was only going to get Charli’s notes back, but that prick had sung like a man on death row when Grant had pinned him to the ground and threatened to show him all the fun torture techniques he knew. Fucking wimp.
But the information Pete had spilled and the names he’d named had sent fear exploding like mines inside Grant’s head. Charli was with the enemy, and Grant had found himself on the other side of the city from her.
The thought of something happening to her, of never seeing her again or hearing her laugh…of their only kiss being the one where he left her feeling like shit—he wouldn’t survive it. He should’ve known to look more closely at her boss. The guy had given Grant a weird vibe as soon as he’d met him. Grant had attributed that vibe to her ex-lover still having interest, but he shouldn’t have let it go so easily. Everyone should’ve been labeled a suspect first. He’d made a crucial error…again.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and yanked it to the right, taking the exit off the interstate at warp speed. Five more minutes if he didn’t catch any lights. He passed through the first intersection without issue, but on the second one, he got caught behind a line of traffic. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, about ready to jump out and run the rest of the way to her office. Silent prayers ran through his head like ticker tape.
But unlike earlier, the painful flashbacks didn’t invade his thoughts. Panic didn’t overtake him. Instead, his focus had become laser sharp. He saw every break in traffic, every spot he could slide into to get to her more quickly. By the time his truck skidded into her building’s parking lot, he was ready to dismantle anyone who tried to prevent him from getting to her.
But as soon as he hopped out of the truck, he saw a familiar cop walking out of the front of the building with his arm around a redhead. Grant’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest to race ahead of him. He launched himself toward Andre and Charli, relief coursing through him like fingers of electricity. She’s okay, she’s okay…
Charli glanced up as he approached, her face white, her shoulders hunched. He couldn’t ever remember seeing her look so frail, like a strong breeze would knock her over. Andre kept a firm hold around her shoulders until Grant reached them, then he handed her over to him. Despite her earlier standoffishness, Charli came to him willingly, sagging against him and curling her fingers into his shirt.
“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, running his hands along her back, checking that she was all in one piece. “You’re all right. Baby, what happened, are you okay?”
Andre frowned. “She said she doesn’t want to talk here.”
“Right. Of course.” He kept Charli close and cocked his head toward his truck. “Andre, I have something I need to give you in my truck. Walk with us?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Andre didn’t hesitate or question why Grant had needed his help or what it involved.
The implicit trust hit Grant right in the gut. For so long, he’d kept everyone at arm’s length. But Jace and Andre hadn’t relented when they’d joined The Ranch. They’d somehow worked their way past his force field and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he had real friends. Ones who would drop everything to help him no questions asked if he needed it.
And as he wrapped his arm around Charli and guided her to his truck, he realized that Charli had done the same thing. With her hard head and take-no-bullshit attitude, she’d hurdled right over his defenses. But unlike Jace and Andre, Charli hadn’t just worked her way into his circle of friends, but rather into every corner of his being. For the few minutes today that he’d thought he may never see her again, he’d felt the impact of just how deeply she’d burrowed into his psyche.
Once they got to his truck, he helped her into the passenger side, then grabbed the file box he’d set on his floorboard. He shut Charli’s door with his hip, then handed the box to Andre. “Take this directly to the station. From what I understand, there are audio recordings and files that will implicate a number of government officials and business owners in a cheating scandal with Dallas University. My source also told me there are recordings of conversations where break-ins and attempted murder are discussed.”
Andre gave him a you-gotta-be-shittin’-me look. “How the hell did you get this kind of information?”
“I have my methods. It’s probably better you not know.” He glanced over at Charli’s building, making sure no one was heading their way. “Just don’t turn it over to anyone you don’t trust. I don’t know how deep this goes within the city government.”
“No worries.” He nodded toward the truck. “You got everything covered with your girl?”
“Covered? Yes. Worked out? No.”
Andre’s expression was all too knowing. It wasn’t that long ago that he was torn up about his own woman. “She went with you willingly. That’s a start.”
Grant clapped Andre on the shoulder as he passed him. “That’s about all I’ve got right now. Thanks for your help, man.”
“Anytime, brother. Good luck.”
Grant headed to the driver’s side. Luck. He was going to need more than that. Because what he knew he needed to do was going to make his days of facing down terrorists look like a day at kindergarten.
Here goes nothing.
TWENTY-NINE
Charli sat curled on the couch in her cabin, huddled around a cup of hot tea. Her stomach had finally settled, and a long shower had helped slough off some of the ugliness of the day, but she still couldn’t settle her mind.
Grant had told her on the way what he’d done to Pete, what information he’d gotten out of him. Charli couldn’t help the satisfaction the news had brought her. She almost wished she could’ve been there to see Pete’s face when Grant, in all his six-foot-seven, pissed-off cowboy glory, had busted through his door. Grant hadn’t given her details about what threats he’d laid down, but she had a feeling Pete was probably still hiding in a closet in his house.
Served the bastard right.
But finding out in the same day that Trey, a guy she’d trusted wholeheartedly, had put her life on the line had her questioning her judgment? How could she have been so stupid? At one time, she’d truly cared about Trey. Even if their relationship had dissolved, she’d always considered him one of her closest friends. Were her instincts that off?
Of course they were. Hell, she’d actually thought she could help Grant get over his wife. Her instincts were about as accurate as her ability to guess lottery numbers.
Grant sank onto the armchair opposite her. “Andre called, said they’re putting together arrest warrants for at least seven people, including your boss and that Brinkley guy he was with last night at the fund-raiser. Apparently, Pete took ‘cover your ass’ to the nth degree. He secretly taped almost every conversation he had with anyone.”
She sipped her tea. “Told you, lawyer family.”
“Right.” He took a pull from the beer he was holding and looked at her like he had a thousand things to say but couldn’t put together one.
The short few feet between them seemed to grow wider as they sat there. Had it only been last night that they’d made love in the grass? “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you going back to your place until everyone’s been rounded up,” he said, setting his beer on the coffee table. “Someone could come after you when they realize you were the one to turn them in.”
“I know.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, her skin prickling at the thought of always looking over her shoulder. “I talked to my brother a few minutes ago. I’m going to stay with him for a little while until I figure out what I’m going to do. I’m sure my employment will be reinstated after everything comes out, but as of right now I’m not even sure I want to go back to TSN.”
Grant’s stoicism fell away, revealing a shade of hurt beneath it. “So you’re leaving?”
She looked down at the frayed ends of the blanket. “I can’t stay here, Grant.”
She knew if she hung around him long enough, she’d slip up. Her normal armor seemed to turn to gossamer anytime he was around. She’d fall into bed with him in a weak moment and end up digging herself into a deeper hole. She was done settling. She wasn’t going to play second best for anyone, and she wasn’t going to stay in a job that wasn’t challenging her anymore. Life was too short to give up and set up camp on the side of the mountain instead of reaching the summit.
Even if she was going to be sitting on that summit all by her damn self.
“When do you plan on leaving?” he asked quietly.
“Tomorrow.”
He leaned forward, lacing his fingers between his knees. “Let me drive you to Baton Rouge.”
She winced. Nine hours sharing that small truck cab with him? Listening to that voice, being surrounded by his scent, hearing him hum to his favorite country songs? It would kill her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she was going into some stage of shock. “Why are you doing this?”
He twisted his college ring round and round his finger. “I haven’t changed that much since we dated. The stakes have just gotten higher.”
She thought back to all the times she’d lent him a few bucks here and there, the time he needed rent money in their junior year but really spent it playing cards.
“I owed money to some dangerous people. I needed help.” He met her eyes, having the nerve to wear a poor-me expression.
“Right. So my head instead of yours?” she said, disgusted. She signed the termination notice with a hard flourish and stood. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. Rot in hell, Trey.”
“Maybe I already am. But don’t slip up, Charli,” he said, his tone foreboding. “They’re not going to stop watching you.”
She stalked out of the office, her head held high despite the riotous emotions blending her insides. But before she reached her desk, she had to run into one of the bathrooms and vomit. The fear of what could’ve been overwhelmed her.
She’d lost her story, her job, and the childhood dream she’d set out for herself.
But she was alive.
And there was only one person to thank for that.
Grant’s hand was slick against the steering wheel as he raced back toward town. Please, God, please. The chant was about the only cogent thought he could manage for the last ten minutes. He tried to dial Charli’s number again, but she wasn’t answering at work or on her cell. He cursed, then hit another number on speed dial.
“Hey Grant, what’s up?” Andre said, answering on the second ring.
“Are you on duty?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need you to go over to where Charli—the sub you met the other night—works and find her. I’m on my way but still a while out and if you’re in uniform, they’ll cooperate quicker.”
“What’s going on?”
“I think her boss may be a danger to her,” Grant said, his heart beating like an out-of-time marching band. “The GPS says her car is still there, but I can’t get her to answer the phone and the secretary hasn’t seen her.”
“Give me the address.”
Grant rattled off the location and clicked off the phone. He’d followed that scum Pete from the diner and around town until the guy had finally headed home. Grant hadn’t wanted any witnesses for what he was planning to do. Charli had told him to leave the guy alone, but Grant knew how to extract information without leaving a mark. And nothing brought out the sadist in him more than an asshole who threatened women.
Grant had thought he was only going to get Charli’s notes back, but that prick had sung like a man on death row when Grant had pinned him to the ground and threatened to show him all the fun torture techniques he knew. Fucking wimp.
But the information Pete had spilled and the names he’d named had sent fear exploding like mines inside Grant’s head. Charli was with the enemy, and Grant had found himself on the other side of the city from her.
The thought of something happening to her, of never seeing her again or hearing her laugh…of their only kiss being the one where he left her feeling like shit—he wouldn’t survive it. He should’ve known to look more closely at her boss. The guy had given Grant a weird vibe as soon as he’d met him. Grant had attributed that vibe to her ex-lover still having interest, but he shouldn’t have let it go so easily. Everyone should’ve been labeled a suspect first. He’d made a crucial error…again.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and yanked it to the right, taking the exit off the interstate at warp speed. Five more minutes if he didn’t catch any lights. He passed through the first intersection without issue, but on the second one, he got caught behind a line of traffic. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, about ready to jump out and run the rest of the way to her office. Silent prayers ran through his head like ticker tape.
But unlike earlier, the painful flashbacks didn’t invade his thoughts. Panic didn’t overtake him. Instead, his focus had become laser sharp. He saw every break in traffic, every spot he could slide into to get to her more quickly. By the time his truck skidded into her building’s parking lot, he was ready to dismantle anyone who tried to prevent him from getting to her.
But as soon as he hopped out of the truck, he saw a familiar cop walking out of the front of the building with his arm around a redhead. Grant’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest to race ahead of him. He launched himself toward Andre and Charli, relief coursing through him like fingers of electricity. She’s okay, she’s okay…
Charli glanced up as he approached, her face white, her shoulders hunched. He couldn’t ever remember seeing her look so frail, like a strong breeze would knock her over. Andre kept a firm hold around her shoulders until Grant reached them, then he handed her over to him. Despite her earlier standoffishness, Charli came to him willingly, sagging against him and curling her fingers into his shirt.
“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, running his hands along her back, checking that she was all in one piece. “You’re all right. Baby, what happened, are you okay?”
Andre frowned. “She said she doesn’t want to talk here.”
“Right. Of course.” He kept Charli close and cocked his head toward his truck. “Andre, I have something I need to give you in my truck. Walk with us?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Andre didn’t hesitate or question why Grant had needed his help or what it involved.
The implicit trust hit Grant right in the gut. For so long, he’d kept everyone at arm’s length. But Jace and Andre hadn’t relented when they’d joined The Ranch. They’d somehow worked their way past his force field and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he had real friends. Ones who would drop everything to help him no questions asked if he needed it.
And as he wrapped his arm around Charli and guided her to his truck, he realized that Charli had done the same thing. With her hard head and take-no-bullshit attitude, she’d hurdled right over his defenses. But unlike Jace and Andre, Charli hadn’t just worked her way into his circle of friends, but rather into every corner of his being. For the few minutes today that he’d thought he may never see her again, he’d felt the impact of just how deeply she’d burrowed into his psyche.
Once they got to his truck, he helped her into the passenger side, then grabbed the file box he’d set on his floorboard. He shut Charli’s door with his hip, then handed the box to Andre. “Take this directly to the station. From what I understand, there are audio recordings and files that will implicate a number of government officials and business owners in a cheating scandal with Dallas University. My source also told me there are recordings of conversations where break-ins and attempted murder are discussed.”
Andre gave him a you-gotta-be-shittin’-me look. “How the hell did you get this kind of information?”
“I have my methods. It’s probably better you not know.” He glanced over at Charli’s building, making sure no one was heading their way. “Just don’t turn it over to anyone you don’t trust. I don’t know how deep this goes within the city government.”
“No worries.” He nodded toward the truck. “You got everything covered with your girl?”
“Covered? Yes. Worked out? No.”
Andre’s expression was all too knowing. It wasn’t that long ago that he was torn up about his own woman. “She went with you willingly. That’s a start.”
Grant clapped Andre on the shoulder as he passed him. “That’s about all I’ve got right now. Thanks for your help, man.”
“Anytime, brother. Good luck.”
Grant headed to the driver’s side. Luck. He was going to need more than that. Because what he knew he needed to do was going to make his days of facing down terrorists look like a day at kindergarten.
Here goes nothing.
TWENTY-NINE
Charli sat curled on the couch in her cabin, huddled around a cup of hot tea. Her stomach had finally settled, and a long shower had helped slough off some of the ugliness of the day, but she still couldn’t settle her mind.
Grant had told her on the way what he’d done to Pete, what information he’d gotten out of him. Charli couldn’t help the satisfaction the news had brought her. She almost wished she could’ve been there to see Pete’s face when Grant, in all his six-foot-seven, pissed-off cowboy glory, had busted through his door. Grant hadn’t given her details about what threats he’d laid down, but she had a feeling Pete was probably still hiding in a closet in his house.
Served the bastard right.
But finding out in the same day that Trey, a guy she’d trusted wholeheartedly, had put her life on the line had her questioning her judgment? How could she have been so stupid? At one time, she’d truly cared about Trey. Even if their relationship had dissolved, she’d always considered him one of her closest friends. Were her instincts that off?
Of course they were. Hell, she’d actually thought she could help Grant get over his wife. Her instincts were about as accurate as her ability to guess lottery numbers.
Grant sank onto the armchair opposite her. “Andre called, said they’re putting together arrest warrants for at least seven people, including your boss and that Brinkley guy he was with last night at the fund-raiser. Apparently, Pete took ‘cover your ass’ to the nth degree. He secretly taped almost every conversation he had with anyone.”
She sipped her tea. “Told you, lawyer family.”
“Right.” He took a pull from the beer he was holding and looked at her like he had a thousand things to say but couldn’t put together one.
The short few feet between them seemed to grow wider as they sat there. Had it only been last night that they’d made love in the grass? “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you going back to your place until everyone’s been rounded up,” he said, setting his beer on the coffee table. “Someone could come after you when they realize you were the one to turn them in.”
“I know.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, her skin prickling at the thought of always looking over her shoulder. “I talked to my brother a few minutes ago. I’m going to stay with him for a little while until I figure out what I’m going to do. I’m sure my employment will be reinstated after everything comes out, but as of right now I’m not even sure I want to go back to TSN.”
Grant’s stoicism fell away, revealing a shade of hurt beneath it. “So you’re leaving?”
She looked down at the frayed ends of the blanket. “I can’t stay here, Grant.”
She knew if she hung around him long enough, she’d slip up. Her normal armor seemed to turn to gossamer anytime he was around. She’d fall into bed with him in a weak moment and end up digging herself into a deeper hole. She was done settling. She wasn’t going to play second best for anyone, and she wasn’t going to stay in a job that wasn’t challenging her anymore. Life was too short to give up and set up camp on the side of the mountain instead of reaching the summit.
Even if she was going to be sitting on that summit all by her damn self.
“When do you plan on leaving?” he asked quietly.
“Tomorrow.”
He leaned forward, lacing his fingers between his knees. “Let me drive you to Baton Rouge.”
She winced. Nine hours sharing that small truck cab with him? Listening to that voice, being surrounded by his scent, hearing him hum to his favorite country songs? It would kill her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
