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His gut twisted. He could almost hear his old CO’s voice telling him to stay sharp, not let emotions cloud his judgment. But the truth was, Polly had slipped right past his defenses from the start. All she’d asked for was a sense of security. He could give her that. At least, the man he used to be could. He wanted to be that man again. And after seeing that brown car watching the neighborhood this morning, he worried that whoever was following her had seen them together. That whoever it was might not be too thrilled that Polly had found herself a protector. If that pervert’s obsession with her escalated because of him, then that only doubled his need to keep her safe.
A flicker of headlights caught his attention. Daniel froze, Pirate bracing at his side as a brown sedan crept slowly through the garage. His gut tightened. Same make, same color as the one he’d seen idling outside his house that morning. The car eased up the ramp, its shadow gliding across the concrete pillars. He angled his body, trying to catch the plate without revealing his presence—but the angle of the ramp, the shadows swallowing the rear bumper made it impossible. Urging Pirate into a jog beside him, Daniel followed. But he couldn’t quite catch the plate, and the windows were too fogged over to get a good look at the driver.
Frustration burned through him. Was it coincidence, or had the bastard followed Polly here? Had the driver followed him? Had he led him straight to her? He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to charge after it. But then—
“What the…? No!” That was Polly’s voice.
Daniel was moving before conscious thought kicked in. His pulse spiked, adrenaline roared to life as he ran toward the sound. Pirate lengthened his stride beside him, surging ahead to get to his new favorite person. Every ugly possibility slammed through Daniel’s head at once. The brown car had reached her before he could. Someone had a hand on her—was hurting her.
“Polly!”
They rounded a concrete pillar and skidded to a stop beside her car.
“Are you okay?”
She’d been frozen near the driver’s door, staring down at the front tire. But the moment he appeared, she swung around and screamed.
“Damn it, Daniel.” Her hand flew to her chest, her breath puffing in short, sharp gasps.
“What happened?” he demanded. “Are you okay?”
“You startled me.”
“What?” He didn’t understand. He quickly scanned her from head to toe. No injuries. No obvious distress beyond her flushed cheeks and the startled tremor in her shoulders. Relief poured through him, leaving him a little unsteady. “Are. You. Okay?”
Polly let out a shaky laugh, lowering her hand. “You scared the crap out of me.”
He gave a short nod. Words lodged in his throat; he’d never been good at them. Not before, and certainly not now. Always the soldier first—efficient, silent, precise. Now he was the scarred freak who watched from the shadows.
Polly deserved someone warm, someone whole. Not a man patched together by surgeries and nightmares.
“Sorry. I just…”
“I’m okay, Daniel. It’s just a sucky end to a sucky day.”
He answered as if that explanation made sense to him. It didn’t. “What does that mean? Are you hurt or not? Did someone threaten you?”
“No, I…” She turned and pointed to the front of her car. She had a flat. “My tire. It was fine when I came in. I swear. And my stepdad always makes sure my car’s in tip-top shape.” Her shoulders sagged. “I can’t even find a decent cup of coffee to perk me up, and now I have to deal with this.”
Daniel breathed a little easier. Not life or death. But definitely something he could help with. He pressed Pirate’s leash into her hand and moved past her to check it out.
He crouched, removing his glove and brushing his fingers around the tire. It wasn’t just flat. It was completely dead, the rim touching the concrete. But he couldn’t find a nail or any other object beyond some bits of gravel stuck in the tread. And it hadn’t been slashed.
He leaned closer, gaze narrowing, and twisted the valve cap free.
But it had been sabotaged.
A grain of sand clung to the stem.
His jaw locked.
Someone hadn’t slashed the tire. Too obvious. Too loud. This was quieter. Patient. The kind of attack meant to strand Polly. Isolate her.
He straightened slowly, anger coiling in his chest. “This wasn’t an accident.”
“What do you mean?”
He showed her to two small items in his hand. “Valve stem sabotage. The grain of sand jammed in there forces the valve open and lets the air bleed out slowly. This was deliberate.”
