Security Detail. Lisa Phillips

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СКАЧАТЬ was his only daughter, and despite her wildness as a teen, he did dote on her. More so given that her mother had passed away. Some men distanced themselves from their loved ones after a loss. Conner had seen it in others—whether the loss was death or divorce didn’t matter. It was all a type of grief to admit it was the end of what they’d thought their lives were going to be.

      Kayla’s father had been no different, though he had been an excellent president. Professional. Cordial to those who worked under him. Some presidents either ignored their Secret Service agents or treated them with outright disdain. It had been nice for Conner that the first president he had served under was a man who had respect for everyone, even those who could be construed as “beneath” him.

      Conner hit the highway and pressed down on the gas, eager to get where they were going.

      Kayla sighed. “Is it wrong that I don’t want my father to help me?” Her voice was softer than it had been. “I mean, I’m a grown woman. If I told him what happened tonight, he would send a detail of Secret Service agents my way and insist they didn’t leave my side until the threat against me had passed.”

      Conner didn’t think that was a bad idea but got the feeling it wasn’t what Kayla wanted to hear. “What do you want to do?”

      “I’d like to live my own life and make my own decisions. I have to be strong enough to get through this on my own, or when a stiff wind blows through, I’ll fall over and my life will disintegrate.”

      “I don’t think a lack of strength has ever been your problem, Kayla.”

      She shifted in the seat. “Do you really mean that?”

      Conner shrugged. “Of course.”

      Kayla slumped back down in her seat. “Sure, I guess.”

      “You don’t think so?” He’d seen her weather things that would have broken most people, and yet here she was. A lawyer. A beautiful woman who could hold herself together when her office was burning and people were coming after them. Why couldn’t she see that?

      “You of all people know that what we show the world is usually not what’s underneath the surface. No one wants to know the dark things, the parts of us that are terrified to show themselves.”

      She thought there was darkness in her? “Kayla—”

      “Don’t worry about it, okay? I do what I can for women who need help, and I like my job. I make a small difference, but it’s still a difference.” She glanced out the window. “It just has to be enough for me. That’s what I’m struggling with.”

      Conner frowned. Perhaps it was fatigue making her doubt herself. He didn’t see where she got the idea she didn’t do enough. His whole existence right now consisted of pretending to be a bad guy—which meant he had to do bad things so they wouldn’t figure him out—all for the chance to catch a real bad guy. He wasn’t a force for good in the world, just justice.

      Lights in his rearview mirror.

      Conner switched the angle down so they didn’t glare in his eyes and distract him.

      The lights moved to the left and shone in his wing mirror. Some guy with a problem. Conner slowed a little and moved to the side of his lane so the person could pass if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

      The vehicle sped up, close enough to clip their back left bumper, and then backed off. Then sped up again.

      Now they were on the right side.

      “Not good.”

      “What?” Kayla shifted to face him. “What is it?”

      “Just some idiot tailing us. Probably kids having fun with a lone truck on the highway.” But he didn’t believe it. After the night they’d had, there was no way it was a coincidence.

       FOUR

      Months ago a group of teens had tailed a woman on this highway, late at night. They’d taunted her before they ran her off the road. She’d hit a tree and suffered major injuries but didn’t remember anything except that they’d driven a truck and jeered as they drove past her.

      Kayla glanced back. The truck behind them could be the same truck of kids who’d hurt that woman. It was all she needed after her office was set on fire, and she’d had a long day before that happened. Now it was nearly midnight and she was exhausted.

      Conner, on the other hand, was dressed like he lived for the rush of a late-night car chase. It was a far cry from the suits she was used to seeing him in, but it kind of worked. In a serious bad-boy way.

      Kayla was in trouble—in more ways than one.

      The truck burst forward and slammed into their back bumper. Kayla screamed and grabbed the dash of Conner’s considerably older vehicle. It would crumple under the newer, heavy-duty truck right behind them. Nearly on top of them.

      “They’re coming again!”

      Conner gripped the wheel, his eyes intent. “Hold on.”

      “I am! What are you going to do?” She looked back. The truck had backed off, but it wouldn’t be long before it came at them again. Could they outrun a more powerful truck? Kayla tried to remember if there were any side roads they could pull off onto. If so, they might escape, or the other truck could simply follow them. Stop them. Hurt them. Kill them.

      The engine revved.

      Kayla’s knuckles turned white on the dash. Conner’s truck jerked forward and he let off the gas. Metal scraped against metal. The tires caught on the road again, and he put his foot down. He drove like this was a mental exercise—a game of chess. They were either the king or simply pawns expendable in the grand scheme of the game. Kayla had never liked chess. She was much better with five-thousand-piece puzzles.

      What was in Conner’s head? He had to have a plan. He was a Secret Service agent. Only this threat was against both of them—not just her. Kayla flipped the glove box open to see if there was a gun. It was stuffed with papers, and took two tries to get it closed again.

      “You don’t need a weapon.”

      “What about a phone? Mine is dead, remember? Give me yours and I’ll call for help.”

      He shifted and dug it out of his jeans pocket.

      “What’s your handler under in your contacts?” Locked. “Wait...first give me your passcode.”

      “Call 911, Kayla.”

      She’d rather have a team of trained Secret Service agents, not the sheriff. Though the sheriff could probably get here faster. She’d seen the Secret Service in action so many times, but she hadn’t wanted them there to protect her earlier. Not when it had been only her in danger. They were way past that now. For the second time that night, their lives were at risk.

      Kayla pushed aside the questions that swirled in her mind—questions about why his phone was off-limits to her—and used the emergency feature to call for help.

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