Her eyes grew misty. “But I’ve never been so afraid before in my life.” She chuckled sadly and shook her head. “I’ve been in situations with my unit where people are shooting at us, and yet I wasn’t afraid.”
“You had your gun and a bullet-proof-vest, too.”
“Yes, I was protected.”
“That’s why you’re scared now.” He caressed her cheek. “Did you bring a vest with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then go upstairs and put it on, and get your gun.”
“It’s not just that.” She covered his hand that was still on her cheek. “I’m worried about you. I care about you, Zack. It’s not just me I’m afraid for, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you, and that Senator Sterling will win.”
His heart melted. He loved staring into her amazing eyes. They looked more brown than green right now. “Then we’ll try harder to stay alert at all times, because I don’t want him to win, either.”
He turned her toward the stairs and lightly patted her butt. “Now go get your gun and vest and meet me down in the kitchen. I’m hungry.”
She smiled at him from over her shoulder before hurrying up the stairs.
After she was out of his sight, he moved to the window and stood against the wall, peering out into the yard. From this view, he couldn’t see Joe and the other two men, but Zack scoped out the area, keeping a close eye on the thicket of trees.
His gut told him it wasn’t the hitman, only because Zack would have been dead by now. So if it wasn’t the senator’s paid assassin, who was the one pulling the trigger over and over again? It would have been different if it was just one shot, but there were several, and they were going in one direction.
Whoever did this had planned it. But was the shooter just trying to frighten them or give them some kind of warning? And why?
As he moved toward the dining room, he pulled out his phone and decided to check the tabloids. Had his current location been leaked to the press?
He sat on one of the high-backed wooden chairs at the rectangular table, making sure to keep away from a window. He scrolled through social media, but couldn’t find anything. He even searched the internet for his name, but the only recent article was the one in the magazine that had reported him missing.
A thought suddenly struck him, making his mind race in a different direction. What if he faked his own death, at least until the senator’s trial started? That might be a way to watch everyone and see who was trying to kill him. Or, if the shooter knew he was dead, then they’d give up and leave Whitney alone.
Patiently, he waited for Whitney to join him. As the minutes ticked by and she hadn’t come down, he became anxious. He paced the floor in the dining room, glancing up constantly toward the stairs. All she had to do was grab her gun and her vest, and yet it had been twenty minutes already. It was too quiet in the house, and that worried him, too.
He couldn’t be patient any longer, and he rushed up the stairs, heading right for her room. Many scenarios clogged his mind, and they were all about her being hurt – or killed.
When he stopped in front of her room, his panicked heartbeat made it hard for him to breathe normally. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened closely for any signs of disturbance from within. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Usually, he’d knock and wait to be invited inside a girl’s bedroom, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Not today.
He grasped the doorknob, and just as he pushed the door open, Whitney was right there, looking as if she was getting ready to exit. She sucked in a quick breath and placed her hand on her chest.
Relief swept through him, knowing that she was all right, but... As their gazes locked on each other, she pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin, stubbornly. He ran his gaze over her from the top of her ponytailed hair, down over her make-up free face, and down along the unflattering clothes she’d worn when they first met.
Inwardly, he groaned. The plain FBI agent had replaced his sexy girlfriend. He wasn’t sure he liked this.
