Then, I was assigned to a high-power businesswoman whose ex-husband was threatening to kill her. I caught him in the process of setting fire to her office building while she was inside. He’s currently sitting in prison.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been a bodyguard, but if this means I’m freed from desk jail, then I’m in.
“Yeah.” He pinches his glasses and slips them off. A look crosses his face that makes me feel like I’m missing something.
TJ peeks his head in the doorway. He eyes me, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
What the hell is going on?
Tracker hired TJ a few years ago. He was quiet and wore a permanent scowl. Since then, he and I have become partners.His deep furrow hasn’t gone anywhere, but his grunts and grumbles are a little clearer these days.
“Do you want me to sit in?” he asks with a smirk as if something amusing is happening.
Most of our cases are a group effort, but personal protection is usually solo unless the job requires additional agents.
“What’s going on?” I cross my arms and then immediately drop them when a ring of fire tears through my shoulder. “You,” I point at Tracker, “are letting me off desk duty. And you!” I turn toward TJ, “have that dumbass look on your face like you’ve jacked with something.”
Tracker stands. “Our client is waiting. TJ, you’ll be backup, so you can sit in. But before we agree to this, I need to ensure we have all the details.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, knowing that there’s one thing that pisses Tracker off, it’s incomplete information. Lives depend on clear-cut facts.
He eyes me. “I need you to put your superpower to work and tell me if they’re giving us everything.”
He thinks they might be lying. Interesting.
My eyebrow perks, and he points a finger at me.
“You’re still grounded.”
“But you said this is my case.”
“This isyourcase,” TJ snickers, and I punch his shoulder.
“It is,” Track cuts in. “I’m not worried about the kid or his agent. It’s his manager. He’s wound a little tight.” Tracker doesn’t play games.
“So what? You want me to blink once for true, twice for lying bastards? Or maybe a nose scratch. Ooooorrr, I could—”
He leans back in his chair. “All right, smartass. I’ve told them this remains completely confidential. Go wring out your shirt, and let’s get in there.”
“You know, I can’t be grounded forever.”
His hazel eyes bore into mine, and I recall the feeling of being pressed to his chest as he carried me. I swallow the memory along with the faint tickle in my throat.
“Did you bring your bike this morning?”
I drop my head to the side because what Tracker doesn’t need to know is that Ireallythought about it. I miss my motorcycle.
“Better not have. You’ll earn full privileges back when you’re healed. Completely.”
I turn away, withholding a smart response.
“And when I’m done being pissed.”
I smile, pushing into the bathroom. Tracker is the only man who’s ever looked out for me. His intention and concern are good, but the man is seriously getting on my last nerve.
I set my backpack on the counter and dig to the very bottom, where I find a plain gray T-shirt. I press it to my nose and inhale.Whatever.It’ll have to do.
I pull my soiled shirt off, careful not to disturb my bandage. My shoulder might be healed if I rested it, but idleness makes me twitch.
