Page 27 of Untamed Protector

The meeting room door clicks shut behind me. I make a beeline for the elevator, praying it goes straight down. Thankfully, the doors whoosh open. But first, I need to tell security about Lena coming. But not on this floor, where Gabriel can walk out of his meeting with Peter anytime and spot me. The elevator goes down quickly, and I dash out onto the ground floor. A quick call from the front desk phone later, and the guards know to expect Lena. Mission accomplished, I jump back into the elevator and press minus three. Gabriel’s car is on minus one, so our paths won’t cross even if he were to leave right now.

The parking lot looks deserted and dark. As I walk in, motion sensors flicker on, casting long shadows across the rows of cars. This place is mostly empty except for forgotten boxes and cars people leave here for long periods.

A thud echoes from the shadows behind me. I whip around, heart pounding. Thanks a lot, Gabriel, for filling my head with paranoia. Now I’m spooked by every sound. But maybe, just maybe, he has a point. Last night’s car accident was more than just a fender bender and some creepy letters.

Still, something about these threats feels off. The idea of someone wanting me dead seems… excessive. Wouldn’t they just get it over with? No one would waste their time scaring me if they wanted me dead. That’s what Gabriel and Peter don’t get—this feels more like a deliberate scare tactic by some nut job I ticked off. They want me gone, not dead.

The rumble of an engine cuts through the silence. It has to be Lena—that was quick.

She pulls over next to me and gets out. I’ve never wanted to hug someone so badly. Lena is my rock, my person. She’s always had my back since we were kids, never let me down, and even stayed with me in the hospital after Dad’s surgeries, at the risk of losing her job. Whatever life throws at us, Lena always looks me in the eye, hugs me, and says, “You got this, kiddo.”

“You scared me, girl. What’s with the mystery? Why don’t you have your phone with you?” she asks.

“Hold up, we can’t talk until we check if we’re in the clear,” I cut her off.

“In the clear?” she says, puzzled.

“We need to check for microphones and hidden cameras. These things are so small, someone can stick them anywhere.” I scan myself, brushing off my clothes and running a hand through my hair—every spot where Gabriel might’ve touched me.

“You’re being paranoid. He had to hold you to put a microphone on you.”

“Well, he did,” I confess, without looking her in the eye. If she sees I’m even remotely interested in Gabriel, she’ll run me down with questions. Damn it, maybe I am.

“Really?” Lena’s jaw drops. Shit. There’s no way she’ll let me out of here without a full confession.

“I’ll tell you all about it. Can you double-check my clothes, please?”

She does, with a smirk of satisfaction.

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Now, come on, spill the tea. Why did you ask me to come here? Couldn’t we talk on the phone? And why are you freaking out?” Too many questions, but I can see why. I barely explained.

“I’m not freaking out. I’m just being cautious. My life’s going to change from today. Long story short, Peter’s concerned about my safety, so he hired Gabriel to guard me day and night from any potential attackers and threats.”

“Did you say day and night? How is the night shift going to work?”

“Well, I’m moving in with him so he can watch over me 24/7.”

“Do you mean you’ll share a bed with Mr. Smoking Hot? Now that’s what I call private protection.”

“Now’s not the time for it, Lena. This stuff is serious, don’t you get it? I won’t be able to do anything or go anywhere alone.”

“But I can. Relax. There are always ways. We’ll go to Plan B.”

“There’s a Plan B? I didn’t even know we had a Plan A.”

“Well, that’s what we’re doing now. Okay, so the goal stays the same. It’s just our methods that need to change.”

As usual, Lena is super confident. She’s an investigative journalist who constantly finds herself in impossible situations, but she’s incredibly resourceful. When I got here less than two months ago, she opened her home to me and listened to me go on and on about how I needed to find the man who destroyed our lives.

I have a mission but no plan yet. So, it’s been mostly improvising so far, like with the invite to the Casino ball. That could’ve been my chance to search for pictures and evidence about the car at Lucas’s house. But then, Gabriel happened.

“Absolutely. I’m not giving up my plan to sink the Maiers.” I feel more determined than ever.

“Well, I can keep asking questions and searching around car shops,” Lena offers. She knows a ton of people. “Since you still have access to the company records, see if you can dig up any paperwork on that car they used to hit you: title, purchase records, anything. We’ll keep moving forward, but if you suspect one of them was behind the wheel, the truth will come out. It always does.” Lena squeezes my arm, giving me a reassuring look.

“There’s no doubt about it. I saw it with my own eyes—a sports car, for sure. We’ll track it down. It can’t have disappeared completely. I know it’s special because of the gold symbol sticker it had. That should help us find it,” I continue.

Lena has some graphic designing skills, so she helped me look up the golden Celtic symbol and then superimposed it onto a photo of a sports car matching the one that hit us. I saved the image on my phone, eager to compare it to the real thing. Research pointed to the symbol being a Celtic Love Knot—two artistically intertwined knots forming a downward-facing heart at each end.

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