My heart breaks into a jog.
“Hold on.” A hand jets out with an extended finger—Greg’s. “Her? She’s going to ensure his safety?”
I don’t move as Tracker physically expands beside me.
I’m not sure what he’s thinking or why he’s putting me on this case. I’ll get to the bottom of that insanity in a minute. Greg, the ass, just said the wrong damn thing, and right now, I’ll watch Tracker school this fool.
Chapter 2
COLE
I stare at the woman across the table as veins bulge in the man’s neck beside her. I think he just said she’d be my bodyguard. I came here knowing I’d likely hire someone to deter threats, but I wasn’t expecting a woman.
Steven, or Tracker as he said to call him, sits forward, his jaw grinding.
“You said you wanted the best.She’sthe best.” He pauses, his eyes dead set on my GM. If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure Greg would flatline. “Now, if you throw any more insults like that in this direction, you all can show yourselves out.”
I’ve never met this man before, but I like him. If he says the woman sitting to his right is the best, I’m inclined to believe him. Do I want her living with me and following me around day and night? Man or woman, I’m not really excited about that, but my management isn’t giving me a say.
I either have to accept a placement from their contracted security team or hire someone myself. Given that I don’t know where the threats are coming from, Rob suggested we meet with this group.
Greg holds up his hands. “I don’t mean to be insulting, but we don’t know who’s doing this. What if it’s a 300-pound disgruntled man wielding a firearm in his face? Cole encounters fans every day, and this needs to be taken seriously.” He pauses, and Tracker leans back in his chair, tossing his pen on the tablelike he’s one step away from snapping Greg in half. “You’re telling me she’s the best to handle that situation?”
My eyes flick to the woman introduced as Ryder Jones. Her blonde hair is tied back in a braid, and her stone face is completely bare of makeup. I’d guess she’s about my age, but it’s difficult to tell. I can’t say I disagree with what Greg is insinuating, but I’ve learned that judging someone based on their appearance can be a grave mistake.
Tracker runs a hand over his face as if he’s attempting to reel in his temper. “I don’t usually take on these kinds of one-off cases, but Rob, you contacted me.” His gaze shifts from Rob to Greg.
The tension in the room has spiked, and I need this to be settled so I can get back to football. I don’t want to go another round with Greg or my management about this.
“Where do I sign the contract?” I say, slicing through the uncomfortable silence and surprising everyone, especially the woman who’ll be my bodyguard.
Her blue-green eyes lock on mine as if my question didn’t faze her in the least.
My new roommate.
I nod once and smile slightly, trying to let her know I’m good with her being assigned to me. Her face remains expressionless as she studies me thoroughly.
The man next to Tracker, TJ, I think, watches her non-verbal, emotionless reaction. I wonder what his deal is.
Greg settles back in his chair, kneading his temples. As the general manager, he runs the Stingrays off the field. He can dictate what happens when I’m on the clock, including hiring and coordinating the team’s security. Beyond that, it’s my decision.
He’s only here to help combine efforts, given it’s in the organization’s best interest to ensure the person intent on killing me isn’t successful.
“Son, you understand Ryder will be in charge of your security while you’re outside of the team’s care?” Tracker asks, his tone a little less lethal.
“Yes, sir.”
He studies me long and hard. “Anyone else we need to consider in this? A wife or girlfriend? A child? Anyone you spend a lot of time with?”
I shake my head.
“And you understand her job is to keep you out of harm’s way, which requires you to follow her direction?”
TJ clears his throat, his gaze on Ryder, and when mine drifts back to her, I catch her subtly scratching the side of her nose with her middle finger.
I bite my cheeks to hide a smile. “Yes, sir.”
Tracker rests his arms on the table, his gaze scrutinizing me as if he’s issuing a silent warning. I have sisters. I understand what he’s telling me.
