Page 127 of The Bodyguard

“This is different. From before. You know that, right?” Josh asks.

I don’t reply. Because it is, but it’s not.

“Ryder.” He presses.

“Nah, it’s not. I should have trusted my instincts and been there with her this morning,” I say, then turn to him. “That day, in the desert. I knew. I had a heavy lump in my gut. The same feeling I had this morning.”

“You’re not a psychic, Ryder. She’s going to live. I don’t know the details of the first event, but I can guess. Those fuckers don’t value life.” Josh growls.

He’s right, they don’t. They see it as a sacrifice, blah fucking blah.

The asshole killed his wife, child, and himself, along with innocent bystanders that day. And no good came from it.

Not one single good thing came from it.

Except protecting more terrorists who then killed more people.

Rinse and repeat.

But I could have trusted my instincts and turned up at Savannah’s this morning to do my job. In truth, I was more focused on meeting with my team and making sure any concerns about my relationship with her were diluted.

Stupid.

Fucking stupid.

“You did work it out. If you hadn’t, Savannah would have bled out in her home and be dead right now,” he adds.

“Yeah.” I nod.

Josh is right. It’s not the same, but I still feel like I let her down. She’s lying in a hospital bed because I wasn’t guarding her.

Nothing can change that fact.

He claps me on the back. “Come on. You need to sleep, Ry. Let me take you home.”

I shake my head. “You SEALs, so weak. I’ll sleep on the damn floor.”

He chuckles.

“Dick. I hope you wake with a sore neck.”

We share a smile, and my best friend walks out.

––––––––

SIX HOURS LATER, I wake up and yeah, my neck is sore. Josh is a damn sorcerer.

I open my eyes and a nurse is standing over Savannah, giving her a sip of water through a straw.

She’s awake?

I stand too quickly and let out a curse, then crack my back. The nurse turns and her eyes run the length of my body.

Yeah, I’m used to that.

I removed my vest—it’s lying on the ground next to me—so I’m wearing my Black Hawke Security black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and a pair of Nikes.

She’s either attracted or intimidated by my size and tattoos. Either way, I’m not interested.

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