Every muscle that had been ready to spring to action hardened. Jonathan turned back to Kate. She wasnât crying, but the way her beautiful dark eyes reached out to him let him know that she was close.
âPlease, stay with me.â
It was in that moment that he knew there was no other place he wanted to be.
âItâll be okay,â he said. âI promise.â
Sirens could be heard in the distance. The crying and yelling still sounded around them. For the first time since the car had nearly run them down, he realized the silver case hadnât left Kateâs side.
Sheâd kept it with her through it all. What was in it?
And why was it worth killing for?
This book is for Virginia Spears.
Youâre a beautiful, brilliant, hilarious sunflower. I hope we grow old together and can still make fun of all the silly things we did when we were younger. Youâre one of the best humans I know and, for that, you deserve much more than a dedication in a book. However, thatâs all Iâm working with for now, so I hope this will do, you exotic, sparkling unicorn, you.
Chapter One
He wouldnât tell anyone this, but the fight almost ended much differently.
The punch that landed squarely against his jaw almost knocked him out. Pain, bright and bold, exploded along the bone as the blow connected. It made him stagger to the side, and for a moment he struggled with fighting the urge to cradle the pain and seek refuge.
Or pass out. Blackness fringed the edges of his vision.
But Jonathan Carmichael wasnât that easy to take down.
He dropped low into a crouch and swung his leg around. His attacker wasnât fast enough to move out of the way. His legs were swept out from under him and he hit the ground hard. The wheeze of someone who had lost their breath escaped from his lips.
Jonathan wasnât where he needed to be physicallyâthe punch really had done a number on himâbut he knew the hired thug wasnât just going to lie down and take it. Plus, he still had someone to protect.
Out of his periphery, Jonathan saw the door behind him and to the left was still closed. Fleetingly, he wondered if Martin actually locked the door like he had been told.
âYouâgonnaâgonna pay,â the thug started to wheeze out, but Jonathan didnât have time for a speech. He turned on his heel and leveled the man with his own knockout punch. The muscle-clad baddie didnât wage an internal war of whether or not he was going to slip into unconsciousness. Or, if he did, he didnât win the battle.
His head clunked against the hardwood while the rest of his body relaxed.
âIâm gonna have a tall beer tonight,â Jonathan said, tenderly touching his chin. He winced. âThatâs what Iâm gonna do, all right.â
He nudged the guyâs foot with his work boot before feeling comfortable enough to walk back to the door his client was behind. Trying the doorknob, he cursed beneath his breath.
âMartin, I told you to lock this.â
His client, an older man who was five feet three inches of scatterbrain, didnât offer an apology for not listening to his bodyguard. Instead his eyes widened at Jonathanâs appearance.
âYouâre bleeding,â Martin exclaimed. He pointed to his eyebrow and then his lip.
âDonât worry,â he hedged, temporarily forgetting he had other injuries. âItâs the jaw that hurts the worst.â
âAnd the bad man?â Martin didnât try to see out into the other room. To him the hired gun was his own personal hell. An evil man who had threatened him, stalked him and attacked him. All in an attempt to exact revenge for sending his boss to prison. Jonathan remembered when the man had come into Orion Security Groupâs front doors begging for protection, for a bodyguard to keep him safe. The police hadnât believed he was being targeted, but Jonathanâs boss had.
A call Jonathan was grateful for and so was Martin.