Midnight Ranger Page 4

George sighed. “I don’t want to upset you, Bridgette, but like it or not, Samuel stays.”

  Bridgette’s eyes widened as her breathing hitched. She pressed her lips into a thin line then glanced at Sam. “If you’d like Sam to stay, that’s perfectly fine. I was about to head home, anyway.”

  Sam glanced at her father then closed the distance between him and Bridgette, again, grabbing the photos from her hand then holding one of them up. “This was taken outside your apartment. The same place you’re planning to go. Does that sound like the decision of someone who’s looking out for themselves?”

  He motioned to the door. “I’m leaving for exactly five minutes to get my equipment out of my truck. I suggest you jump onboard in the time I’m gone, because whether you like it or not, I’m going to be shadowing your ass until you head back for the trial. And, before you lose your shit—I’ve already cleared it with your office. They agree. This is way past their comfort zone, too. So, whether it’s here in Montana or in your apartment in Seattle is up to you. But I think you’d be more comfortable here, where there’s an extra room for me to sleep in, instead of the floor of your bedroom.”

  He shoved the pictures back into her hand then turned, stopping at the doorway. “And, for the record, I never called you a damsel. But I’m fairly certain those kick-boxing classes you’ve been taking don’t compare to my level of training.”

  Sam marched out, smiling when something hit the door just after he closed it. While running into Bridgette hadn’t been something he’d ever expected would happen—especially with how he had broken things off—he was having a hard time being as upset as he’d originally thought he’d be. Maybe it was her feisty personality or her obvious intelligence. Either way, he needed to find a way to work with her, because if the people who sent those threats turned up, things were going to get bloody.

  CHAPTER THREE

  This couldn’t be happening. Of all the people Bridgette’s father could have hired to be her over-qualified bodyguard, surely Fate hadn’t somehow aligned the stars and allowed Samuel Montgomery to be the guy. Yet, here she was, staring at the door where the man in question had just left, the shoe she’d tossed at him lying on the floor, and his last few words still ringing in her head.

  She leaned against the wall, using it to brace her weight as she glanced at the photos in her hand. She still couldn’t believe someone had followed her all the way to Montana. To this two-bit town that lasted all of a few minutes as you drove down Main Street. Surely, there had to be another explanation. Maybe one of her colleagues had forwarded them on?

  A quick glance at the corner of the envelope dashed those hopes. The damn thing had been dropped off, not sent through the post office. Which meant someone knew where she was. She just wasn’t sure who that someone was.

  Images of the man clad in black, the gun glinting in his hand as he searched for her in the garage, pushed at her resolve. When the threats had stopped once she’d returned home, she’d assumed she didn’t need to worry about better protection. Staring at the photographs made her question that. If there was a chance that guy had tracked her here…

  Her father stopped beside her, pursing his lips together before drawing himself up. “I know you’re upset, but—”

  “I didn’t ask for you to hire someone.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’m your father. It’s my job as a parent to keep you safe. And, while I’ll concede I didn’t always execute that job very well in the past, I’m not going to stand by while you risk your life for nothing.” He held up his hand. “There’s nothing I can do to stop you from choosing to work for the US Attorney’s office. For taking those kinds of risks. But I’ll be damned if I allow you to blatantly ignore these threats when I have the means to do otherwise.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring them. I was taking additional precautions as the situation warranted. You didn’t give me a chance to see the new evidence before you called Brotherhood…whatever, and hired the one guy I’d love to stab through the heart.”

  “It’s Brotherhood Protectors, and I find it hard to believe there’s only one man that has earned that distinction in your books.”

  She resisted the smile that twitched her lips. “The point is, had I known that someone had delivered an envelope to this house—”

  “You would have given me yet another excuse as to why extra security wasn’t required.” His expression softened as he gave her a smile. “Just because I’m old, Bridgette, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten who you are. Or what you’re like. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, but you’re as stubborn as your mother ever was.”

  Bridgette cursed under her breath. Her father knew she had a soft spot whenever he mentioned her mom, and that she’d have a hard time staying mad at him.

  She sighed. “You’re not old. And I’ll take the stubborn comment as a compliment. Mom was a real ass kicker, and I’m happy that I’m anything like her.”

  “Too much, if you ask me.” Her father looked toward the door when it opened, nodding as Sam appeared, a collection of bags at his feet. “Now, I’m going to head out. The roads aren’t getting any better, and I want to stop by the store before it closes. I’ve got Billy manning the helm, and I’m never quite sure he’ll remember to turn everything off.” He snorted. “Kids today.”

  Bridgette grinned, despite the anger still burning beneath her skin. She knew her dad meant well. It was just… She blew out a calming breath, watching Sam talk quietly to her father before the man continued onto the porch then down the few short steps to the walkway. Cold air gusted through the open space, curling around her feet before Sam shut the door. She shivered, rubbing her hands along her arms—praying it was the chill and not the man standing in front of her that had her on edge.

  Sam stared at her, and she swore he looked right through the walls she’d built around her like armor before bending to grab her shoe. His perfectly full lips quirked into a smile as he walked over to her, holding out her shoe. “Yours, darling?”

  She snatched it out of his hand, half considering using it to smack his smug smile off his face. “Just because my father’s suddenly your biggest fan doesn’t mean I am. Or that I’m onboard with…” She waved her hand between them. “This.”

  She scrunched up her nose, staring at the bags still resting by the door. “What is all of that, anyway?”

  “Alarm system.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you don’t have one.”

  Her breath caught. “You brought an alarm system? But—”

  “It’s wireless.” He nudged her. “Relax, Bridg. I’m not going to drill holes or ruin your paint scheme. But I need to know if there’s anyone other than us in here. I’ll set up detectors in each room and secure the entry points. If one goes off, it’ll ring my cell. If I don’t answer, it’ll call a few of my colleagues. Depending on the code, I’ll also program it to notify the local police or fire station. But it shouldn’t come to that.”

  She snagged her lip, groaning inwardly. “Is that really necessary?”

  Sam edged closer. “It’s my job to keep you safe. This is just the beginning. Don’t worry. I’ll show you how it all works.”

  “I know how to work an alarm system. Christ, give me some credit. I have one at my apartment.”

  His brows drew together. “Then, why the face? And trust me. You’re making a face. The same one you used to make when I wanted you to go skinny dipping with me in the river.”

  “There were leeches in that water.”

  He chuckled. “I swear it was only a leaf. So, why the fuss, then?”

  She exhaled, leaning against the wall, again. God, she was tired. While she’d put up a good front, the truth was—she hadn’t really slept since the threats had started. Then, after the incident in the garage, she’d orchestrated a full-fledged retreat—running all the way to Montana. Even with less security, she’d felt better. Had managed to fool herself into thinking that the distance, alone, was enough to guarantee her safety. That she didn’t need
fancy alarm systems or muscle-bound bodyguards—until someone had apparently followed her there.

  Strong fingers brushed along her jaw, jerking her back from her thoughts. She jumped, worrying her lip, again, when Sam narrowed his eyes, studying every fine line on her face.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  She swallowed, coughing against the sudden dryness. “Fine. And I’m just disappointed I have to deal with all this, again. I came here to get away from the constant codes and checks. My grandparents lived in this house for sixty-five years. And my grandmother’s parents for the same before them. They never locked their doors, let alone had motion sensors and window alarms. I’d just hoped it would be the same. That, when she left me this place, I’d be able to keep it pure.”

  She sighed. “I guess what I really mean is that I’d assumed no one would find me. But you’re right.” She held up the envelope. “I should have installed an alarm system as soon as I got here.”

  His thumb skimmed across the corner of her mouth as his furrow eased. “I know it’s upsetting, and frustrating, and I really am sorry. But your grandparents didn’t get death threats, or spend their days convincing a jury to convict a person of multiple murders. As long as you put yourself into those kinds of situations, you need to take the appropriate precautions. Especially living alone.”

  Sam backed up a step then crossed his arms over his chest. “Which is actually the real mystery here. Your dad told me you’re still single. Why isn’t there some guy tagging along?”

  She huffed. “Seriously, Sam? You’re one of those people that think every woman needs a man to complete her?”

  “Shit. Are you going to take everything I say as some kind of sexist remark?”

  “Only the ones that sound that way.”

  “I didn’t…” He blew out a long, slow breath. “What I meant was…you’re beautiful, smart, successful. Surely, the men in Seattle are lining up to ask you out.”

  “Says the guy who looks like he should be on the cover of some male fitness magazine. I noticed you’re not wearing a ring. Do you have someone waiting at home?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He laughed. “And there’s the lawyer in you. Can’t answer a simple question without asking a few in return. Fine, my answer is that I really haven’t had much time. While I was in the Ranger Regiment, I trained for months on end, only to move on to more training. Then, it was one mission after another… I guess I thought there’d be time later. Or that I should wait until the chance of getting killed wasn’t as big a factor as it seemed to be.”

  His words extinguished any residual anger. Christ, she hadn’t been expecting him to actually answer. Not honestly. A well-rehearsed line, sure. But this…

  She straightened. “What about now? I’m sure the ladies are lining up for you, too.”

  “If only. Truth is…not much has changed. Or maybe it’s changed too much. I’m not really sure.” He leaned toward her. “Your turn.”

  Dread washed over her, and she knew he’d done that on purpose. She steadied herself, plastering on the fake smile she’d perfected over the past few years. “My answer’s the same.”

  “You were worried about getting killed?”

  She stilled. Surely, he hadn’t picked up on that. “No, you jerk. I haven’t really had any time, either. Do you know how hard it is to get into law school? How many hours I had to work as a public defender to get to the place where I was able to get my job at the US Attorney’s office? Maybe some people can juggle all that and a relationship, but…I couldn’t.”

  He tilted his head to the side, still watching her closely. “You’re lying.”

  Panic teased her senses, but she managed to push it aside. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you’re lying.” He took a step closer. “Yes, you’ve been busy, and I believe that it would have been hard to make it all work. But there’s another reason. Your eye twitches a bit when you’re trying to fake your way out of a corner, just like it did earlier. And your hands are trembling. Not much, but I noticed. So…what’s the real reason?”

  She had a tell? How the hell had he recognized that from a minute-long conversation? One she’d uttered so many times she didn’t even have to think about it, anymore. It played like a recording inside her head. And no one had ever questioned her before.

  Sam arched a brow. “Well, Bridg? You started this. And I was completely honest with you. I’ve had my share of furlough flings. One-night stands I’m not exactly proud of, but the women always knew where I stood. It was always mutual. So…is that what you’ve been doing? Is it just sex? A physical release without getting emotionally attached? Is there a reason you don’t want to get emotionally attached?”

  “I…”

  She wet her lips, shuffling sideways until she’d put some much-needed space between them. God, it was as if he’d read her mind. Knew that her only sexual encounters over the past several years had been with cops or feds who were attending the same boring symposium she was. The “safest” guys she could find to scratch the itch.

  She squared her shoulders. “I have some work to do. And you apparently have to turn this place into Fort Knox.”

  He gently snagged her arm. “Bridgette. You don’t have to answer me, but…are you sure you’re okay?”

  She glanced down at where his fingers curled around her arm. How long had it been since she’d allowed a man to touch her without it being part of a one-off? Since her ex had literally changed her life—sent her down a path she hadn’t considered before. Not that she regretted becoming a lawyer, but it hadn’t been her first love. What she’d planned on doing with her life. Memories clawed at her bravado, a few fleeting moments breaking through before she managed to draw herself up—seal away her past.

  She tugged softly against Sam’s hold, thankful when he released her. “Fine.”

  “Well, when you say it like that…”

  “I’m fine, Sam, all things considered.” She slipped on her shoe then took a few steps back, only to stop when he called out to her. She glanced at him over her shoulder, waiting to see what he wanted, now.

  “I get that you’re still pissed, and not just about this situation. Maybe later, we could talk? Clear the air?”

  The two of them? Alone? Talking? Her stomach fluttered, making her acutely aware of how handsome he was. How he’d lost any trace of boyhood—the hard planes and angles accentuating how much of a man he’d become. He wore his hair longer, the brown color more chestnut than the almost dirty blond she remembered. But it wasn’t just his looks that had changed. His personality seemed different. He’d lost the playboy charm he’d carried with him, replacing it with inner confidence and something she couldn’t quite place. Honor, maybe. Though, he might have just gotten better at playing people.

  She shrugged. “Nothing to talk about. Water under the bridge and all that.”

  “If it was water under the bridge, you wouldn’t have introduced me to your father as the ex who’d cheated on you back in high school.”

  “Facts are facts, Sam.”

  “Which is why I’d like to talk. You don’t have all of them.”

  “And I don’t need them.” She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Seriously. I’m past it. In fact, you did me a favor that night.”

  Shadows lined his face as he frowned. “And what favor was that?”

  “You taught me that men couldn’t be trusted. That they’ll say and do anything if it means they’ll get their prize. That, in the end, the only person I can ever truly count on is myself. A lesson I’ve…unfortunately had to learn more than once. But it definitely made me open my eyes. See the world differently than I had before. Made me realize I’d been sheltered, and that the only person I was hurting by staying in my safe little bubble was me.”

  She pushed back her shoulders, digging deep for the strength she’d developed over the years. “So…forget it. You’re here to do a job. And I’ve only got two more weeks, so…this will all be
over quickly.” She took another few steps. “Let me know when you’re done and what code I have to use. I’ll be in my office for a bit then working out. Can’t let those kick-boxing classes go to waste.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Bridgette, wait… Fuck.”

  Sam shook his head as Bridgette kept walking, disappearing into another room. While he’d expected a certain level of animosity from her when he’d learned he’d been hired as her bodyguard—and that she wasn’t exactly fond of the idea—he hadn’t thought their relationship in high school had scarred her. Not like this.

  He reran their interaction in his mind, doing his best to isolate anything that might point toward an answer. She’d been every inch the determined, confident woman he’d expected after learning she’d become a very successful prosecutor in one of Seattle’s toughest districts—right up until he’d hooked her arm when she’d tried to leave.

  He’d noticed the way she’d shied away from him when he’d gotten close. How she’d glanced at wherever he’d touched her as if the contact, itself, scared her. Judging on the brief snippets of information she’d let slip, he’d bet his right nut that someone had hurt her since he’d last seen her. And not just her heart—he recognized the lingering effects of being physically abused. The only question was whether it had been an isolated incident or if she’d somehow gotten trapped in that kind of relationship.

  He glanced at the hallway. She didn’t seem like the type to fall for token promises—ones she had to know weren’t worth the breath used to make them. So, he doubted she’d actually stay with a guy after any show of aggression. Still…

  He slipped his cell from his pocket, stepping out onto the porch as he dialed the office, asking for Hank when his wife, Sadie, answered. The silence scratched at Sam’s control until a familiar voice sounded in his ear.

  “Please don’t tell me she’s kicked your sorry ass out already, Midnight, because I think that’ll be a company record.”