Before I could even call myself a liar, Pierce did it for me.
But not with words.
No.
Not even close.
He did exactly what I’d wanted and closed that little bit of distance between us. Not enough to touch me, but enough that my body went haywire. The need screaming through me was impossible to ignore. But it wasn’t until his mouth dropped close to my ear so that only I could hear him that I knew my life was about to irrevocably change.
And just like that, with just a few softly spoken words, Pierce St. James stole away the last of the lies that had protected me for so very long.
“Everything will be okay…Everett. Trust me.”
Chapter 1
NASH
Present day
I didn’t likewhen he got like this.
I mean, I didn’t like the guy, period, but I really didn’t like when he got like this.
He was quiet… too quiet. And not the kind of quiet that meant he was planning something, like trying to ditch me again.
No, it was the kind of quiet that he sometimes got when he was in the middle of doing something unimportant and his mind just wandered off.
Wandering wasn’t the right word, because that made it sound like he was just preoccupied. No, when he got like this it was so much… more.
What the fuck do you care, Nash? It’s not like this is a real gig.
I couldn’t deny the voice in my head was right. After all, babysitting a former president who lived in Bumfuck, Nowhereland, wasn’t exactly the highlight of my career.
The familiar bitterness that washed over me just served to piss me off. In the first half-dozen foster homes I’d been placed in, I’dtried so many variations of being the perfect kid that I’d easily lost myself in the process. By the time both my age and the count of foster homes hit double digits, I’d accepted that life wasn’t going to hand me a fucking break, and I’d reacted accordingly.
So, it wasn’t like I shouldn’t be used to being thrown a curveball every now and again. Or at just about every opportunity, since Fate seemed to enjoy fucking with me.
I forced the negativity away and focused on my charge. Of course, all that did was piss me off again as I remembered the day before. Babysitting Everett Shaw, former leader of the free world, had been meant to knock me down a couple of pegs, and hell if it hadn’t worked. The man was a fucking pain in my ass – a fact that had been proven yet again the day before when he’d taken off on me after sending me on a fool’s errand to track down a magazine he’d supposedly left in the gazebo that he spent so much of his time in.
I’d returned with said magazine – which had turned out to be nothing more than a prop in a carefully planned act of rebellion – only to find the man had taken off in his 1941 Cadillac Series 61. He’d gone so far as to employ his housekeeper and the groundskeeper to help him make his escape, but fortunately my predecessor had warned me that the man had a habit of ditching his Secret Service agents. I’d gotten the impression that Shaw and Grady had formed some kind of friendship in the years they’d been together, but Grady had done his duty and shared the tidbit anyway.
A clear sign the agent had never forgotten he was honor bound to first and foremost protect the former president.
It was a fact I was grateful for, because if I hadn’t planted a tracking device on the man’s car, I never would have found him and I’d have paid for it with my superiors. At this point, the assholes were looking for any excuse to can my ass, and losing track of my charge was sure to make that happen.
So I’d been in a carefully veiled rage by the time I’d tracked Shaw down at his friend Vincent’s house. Grady had warned me all about Vincent St. James and his fanatical rules about not allowing armed agents onto his property, but I’d already made the decisionthat despite Grady’s loyalty to Shaw, he’d been too damn lenient with the man. My intention had been to show Shaw and his friend that there was a new sheriff in town, but I’d let my irritation get the better of me and had made my decision based on emotion rather than reason.
Despite doing my homework on Vincent, I’d truly thought Grady was just over-exaggerating the mysterious man’s attitude and all it would take was a little bit of my own to show the former soldier who was really in charge.
I’d underestimated the man big time.
Big time.
Even when the tall asshole had come striding out of his garage, rifle in hand, I’d been slow to react. Probably because I couldn’t have even imagined the balls it would take for someone to approach a federal officer so blatantly armed. I’d told myself the weapon was just for show even as I’d scrambled to pull my own firearm from the holster, an awkward feat considering I’d still been sitting in my car at the time, which had been trapped between two gates leading onto the property.
But the weapon hadn’t been for show, and I’d barely gotten the first few words of warning out for Vincent to put the gun down when he’d shot out my tire.
Shaw had managed to diffuse the situation with his friend, but then he’d laid into me about not following Vincent’s ridiculous rules.
