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Authors: Lucy McConnell
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flipped out over our breakup, well break. What was he trying to do, guilt me into marrying him? How annoying. I pulled the door open.
“So much for space,” I snapped.
He smirked and walked right past me to my bedroom. I slammed the door behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He grabbed a pair of my jeans and a sweatshirt from the walk-in closet. “Throw these on.”
Folding my arms, I stood my ground. “No.” I glared.
“I have to get you out of here. Now!”
The icy tone in his voice gave me reason enough to listen. “Why?”
“You’re on The List.” He handed me a folded paper from his back pocket. “I’ll find your shoes.” He disappeared into my walk-in closet.
I unfolded the paper, unsure if I even wanted to know what was on it. My own face stared back – along with a price tag of $50,000. I threw on my clothes.
“Jason?!” Panic filled my voice and my body making it difficult to get my feet through the pant leg. The picture was taken just hours ago, I recognized the outfit. Looking at the background, I saw George Washington on one knee in the painting behind me. Buttoning my pants, I called, “How did he take this picture?”
Jason came in shaking his head in self-reproach. “It was the camera on the laptop. He had it set to take a picture every time it booted up.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t know.” He kicked my bed. “Honest, Alyssa. I never would have gotten you involved in this if I thought you’d be in danger. Please believe me, the last thing I wanted was this.” He pointed a painted black fingernail at the page in my hand.
I swallowed, my chocolate creation threatening to make an appearance. “What now?”
“You’ll have to go into protective custody until we finish the case against Devin.”
That didn't sound too bad. I could handle a bodyguard for a day or two. “Okay. How long will that take?”
“Hopefully, just a couple of weeks, but it could be longer.”
I blew out a deep breath. My determination went with it. What did I have to stick around here for anyway? Now that Devin knew I was the one on his computer, I definitely didn’t have a job in the morning. What was I talking about, it was morning. “Let me just pack up my laptop.”
“Sorry, Sweets.” Jason grabbed my hand. “No personal effects.”
I snagged my purse on the way out the door anyway. If bad guys were going to enter my apartment, I wasn’t going to leave my wallet laying around. I glanced over at my car, wondering when I would see it again. I also wondered if I remembered to lock it. I grabbed the keys out of my purse and hit the lock button. Three seconds later my car mushroomed into a fireball screaming into the dark morning sky.
Before understanding clicked, Jason and I were thrown to the ground by the explosion’s percussion. My ears rang and my palms burned. Jason was quicker to recover than I was. He grabbed me around the waist, hauling me to a standing position. We ran to his car parked in the visitor’s area. I slammed the protective door shut as he peeled away from the curb.
We drove in tense silence; Jason watching for followers and me gulping down the bile that continually tried to climb up my throat. My body shook. I was aware enough to sense a major overload coming on. Jason turned on my seat warmer and after a couple of minutes, I stopped quaking.
Once we were on I-15, he relaxed into the welcoming leather.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?”
“For coming for me.” I knew, without a doubt, that I would have died on my way to work if Jason hadn’t come to rescue me. His love for me was so strong!
“I had to.” He checked the rear-view mirror again. My resolve to be annoyed with him slipped away. He was seriously the best undercover fiancé a girl could ask for. I was ready to lace my fingers with his and never let go.
Then he added. “It’s part of the job.”
I felt like sticking my tongue out at him like a third grader on the
“So much for space,” I snapped.
He smirked and walked right past me to my bedroom. I slammed the door behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He grabbed a pair of my jeans and a sweatshirt from the walk-in closet. “Throw these on.”
Folding my arms, I stood my ground. “No.” I glared.
“I have to get you out of here. Now!”
The icy tone in his voice gave me reason enough to listen. “Why?”
“You’re on The List.” He handed me a folded paper from his back pocket. “I’ll find your shoes.” He disappeared into my walk-in closet.
I unfolded the paper, unsure if I even wanted to know what was on it. My own face stared back – along with a price tag of $50,000. I threw on my clothes.
“Jason?!” Panic filled my voice and my body making it difficult to get my feet through the pant leg. The picture was taken just hours ago, I recognized the outfit. Looking at the background, I saw George Washington on one knee in the painting behind me. Buttoning my pants, I called, “How did he take this picture?”
Jason came in shaking his head in self-reproach. “It was the camera on the laptop. He had it set to take a picture every time it booted up.” He wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t know.” He kicked my bed. “Honest, Alyssa. I never would have gotten you involved in this if I thought you’d be in danger. Please believe me, the last thing I wanted was this.” He pointed a painted black fingernail at the page in my hand.
I swallowed, my chocolate creation threatening to make an appearance. “What now?”
“You’ll have to go into protective custody until we finish the case against Devin.”
That didn't sound too bad. I could handle a bodyguard for a day or two. “Okay. How long will that take?”
“Hopefully, just a couple of weeks, but it could be longer.”
I blew out a deep breath. My determination went with it. What did I have to stick around here for anyway? Now that Devin knew I was the one on his computer, I definitely didn’t have a job in the morning. What was I talking about, it was morning. “Let me just pack up my laptop.”
“Sorry, Sweets.” Jason grabbed my hand. “No personal effects.”
I snagged my purse on the way out the door anyway. If bad guys were going to enter my apartment, I wasn’t going to leave my wallet laying around. I glanced over at my car, wondering when I would see it again. I also wondered if I remembered to lock it. I grabbed the keys out of my purse and hit the lock button. Three seconds later my car mushroomed into a fireball screaming into the dark morning sky.
Before understanding clicked, Jason and I were thrown to the ground by the explosion’s percussion. My ears rang and my palms burned. Jason was quicker to recover than I was. He grabbed me around the waist, hauling me to a standing position. We ran to his car parked in the visitor’s area. I slammed the protective door shut as he peeled away from the curb.
We drove in tense silence; Jason watching for followers and me gulping down the bile that continually tried to climb up my throat. My body shook. I was aware enough to sense a major overload coming on. Jason turned on my seat warmer and after a couple of minutes, I stopped quaking.
Once we were on I-15, he relaxed into the welcoming leather.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?”
“For coming for me.” I knew, without a doubt, that I would have died on my way to work if Jason hadn’t come to rescue me. His love for me was so strong!
“I had to.” He checked the rear-view mirror again. My resolve to be annoyed with him slipped away. He was seriously the best undercover fiancé a girl could ask for. I was ready to lace my fingers with his and never let go.
Then he added. “It’s part of the job.”
I felt like sticking my tongue out at him like a third grader on the
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