Page 19 of End Game

“You might be right, but based on what you’ve told me, I suspect you were the intended target. If you hadn’t tripped on the carpet when you did, the bullet would have assuredly hit the back of your head.”

8

“Thank you for the ride,” Kayla said, the moment Ash put his vehicle in park.

Normally, at this point, she would say something to ignite his irritation. Some time ago, and quite by accident, she’d discovered the slight narrowing of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw heated up every one of her woman parts. The man was sexy as hell when peeved.

If only he knew his attempts at intimidation and suppression had such a stimulating effect on her, he’d probably laugh more in her vicinity.

But tonight, on the heels of seeing one of her aunties killed, literally before her eyes, she didn’t have a single provocative thought in her head.

As a matter of fact, not much of anything was moving around upstairs. She couldn’t recall the last time she didn’t have the next dozen steps already mapped out.

This void would have unnerved her under normal circumstances, but Kayla wasn’t unsettled. She was tired. A bone-deep, out-before-your-head-hits-the-pillow exhaustion had consumed her body.

For this reason, she didn’t compute Ash’s continued presence at her side until he closed and locked the front door behind them.

“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing the pistol in his hand.

“Making sure you’re safe.” He nodded toward the alarm panel. “Arm it.”

The intensity carved into his features as he scanned the foyer and the long hallway leading into the interior of her house compelled her to do as instructed. When he grasped her hand and made for the upstairs, the switch from shock to WTF clicked over.

She dug the heels of her Jimmy Choos into the stair runner and disengaged her hand from his. Albeit reluctantly.

“My wits have returned.” She motioned toward his weapon. “Explain yourself.”

His chest rose on a deep inhalation, but he continued to surveil their surroundings. “I’m escorting you to your bedroom, then I’m going to clear this enormous home.”

“Why?” she asked. “If someone was here, they would have tripped the alarm.”

“No security measure is one hundred percent foolproof.” He indicated the stairs.

Lifting the hem of her gown, she followed a half-step behind him. A calico cat sat at the top of the staircase, her yellow-green eyes intent on Ash.

When they reached the top stair, Ash asked, “Which way?”

She took a moment to brush Crispy’s forehead and felt the feline’s answering pressure against her palm. Straightening, she turned to the right, but Ash, with a gentle hand, maneuvered her behind him, again. His protective instincts made the flutter in her stomach intensify, and even more so the closer they got to her bedroom.

Once they entered her suite, he flipped on the overhead light and took a moment to glance around, then motioned for her to stand behind a chair while he cleared the bathroom and walk-in closet.

Kayla felt a little ridiculous, almost as if she were on the set of a Bourne movie. Crispy seemed to agree with how ludicrous her mistress looked hiding behind a chair. The feline limped straight across the middle of the room, tail held high, until she reached her bed, where she curled up and closed her eyes.

Kayla stayed put and allowed Ash to do his job. To be honest, she appreciated the extra caution, even though she hadn’t bought into Detective Morgan’s speculation about her being the killer’s actual target.

Who would want to kill her? No one she could think of.

If she had been the target, why wait for her to reach the gazebo? Why not pick her off on the garden path?

She stilled as another thought struck. Had they both been the shooter’s target? One bullet, two kills. Was that even possible?

A shiver rippled down her spine. Thank God for rhinestones and rugs.

Emotion gripped her throat at the selfish thought. She would give anything—even her own life—for Vicky to still be alive. For her godmother to be able to hold her first grandchild in her arms.

Despite her rocky relationship with Linda, Vicky had set up a baby room in the governor’s mansion, full of toys and books and the most adorable bassinet.

Why would anyone want to kill Vicky? Although some would consider her biased, Kayla truly believed Victoria Stokes was—had been—the best governor for the citizens of North Carolina.

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