Page 51 of Protector

“You wouldn’t answer me. I called and texted, then I went to the window. I saw what happened. I called 911 when I heard the explosion.”

I stop us when we reach her back property, sit down on one of the futon couches, pulling Shay against me, seemingly unable to loosen my grip on her.

Shay looks up to my face, her chin digging into my chest, her eyes fearful. “You’re not saying anything. Are you hurt. What did he do to you, Brooks?”

Taking her face in my hands, I press my lips to hers even though it’s the last damn thing I should be doing right now. “I’m fine. He tased me but—”

“Oh my God, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I was just…so fucking scared something happened to you.” I shake my head, needing a moment to calm my breathing, the thoughts screaming circles in my head.

“I’m fine, Brooks. I was just scared for you…”

All the confusion, the fear, the frustration, seem to gather in one spot, erupting into my chest, causing me to nudge Shay from my hold and stand. “I had that fucking psycho. He was right here.” I stare off into the distance, past the pool and out to the hills. “But then I heard that bomb or whatever it was go off, and all I could think about was you, so I stopped…”

“Wait a minute, you’re not saying it’s my fault he got away?” She moves in front of me so I have to look at her. “Don’t you dare—”

“No… I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m just saying my—my feelings for you, for your safety, had me hesitating. Maybe I wouldn’t have chased him either way, but my actions have me questioning how safe I can keep you if I don’t even know what the hell to do.”

She grabs my hands, her face laced with pain. “Please don’t do this. If you hadn’t stayed tonight, who knows what would have happened.” Her eyes glaze over, and she shoves her cheek against my chest. “Please don’t blame yourself and don’t use this as an excuse to quit on me, Brooks.”

I wrap my arms around her as the sirens coming up the street get louder on their approach. “I won’t quit on you, Shay, but we need to do this another way. Once we talk to the police and you have everyone on your team up to speed on an announcement, I’m taking you away from here. It’s the only way.”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Shay

So drained are both my mind and body, the only thing I can focus on right now is the feel of Brooks’s hand holding mine as we head down the darkened highway in his truck. He told me he’s taking me somewhere safe, and I didn’t argue, didn’t ask a single question. Just packed an overnight bag, swiping at tears that wouldn’t stop as he sat on my bed and watched. The tears were a determined concoction of fear, frustration, and exhaustion that I could no longer keep at bay.

I’d held it together when the police arrived, when my mother got there halfway into Brooks and me recounting what happened to the officers, her barely contained hysteria making me want to slap her. Looking back, I can’t blame her for her reaction, for being scared for me and what might have happened. And she helped me give the officers some background, to which they said a detective would be following up with me at some point.

Mom said she’d take care of the clean-up tomorrow and getting the house secure for however long I’d be gone. Instead of drilling Brooks about where he was taking me, she just squeezed his hand, and with tears in her eyes, said, “Take care of my baby.”

As the glowing lights of the lanes blur past us, I fade in and out of sleep, startling each time I slip too deeply, afraid of what I might find on the other side of consciousness. Part of me wants to go there, to slip into my mind and filter through my life, checking every face I’ve ever encountered to see if I might find this person who is stealing my freedom, my happiness. Of course, he could be delusional, a stranger I’ve never laid eyes on, but everything he’s said and done makes this feel so personal. Did I encounter this monster sometime along my journey? Did he attend an event, and I slighted him by refusing a selfie or an autograph? Was he at a party or club and I rebuffed his advances?

Suddenly, my eyes are wide open with these seemingly impossible questions I can’t answer.

“What is it?” Brooks says quietly, pulling my hand over to his lap.

With my head resting back against the seat, I look over at him. “Tell me what you saw?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to describe everything you could see out there. Any description you have of this guy. I just have this feeling…like I must have met him before, encountered him at some point.”

Brooks keeps his focus on the road, quiet for a few beats, but I sense he’s going to answer. He’s hesitant but knows this is necessary. “First thing I really noticed was just before he tased me.” He pauses, and the emotion in his tone hits me as fear. “Something about his breathing and the sort of grunting noise he made as he stuck me…” He glances over at me. “He seemed pissed.”

“At you?”

“Yeah. And I think he mumbled something under his breath, but I can’t remember. He was big, though. I could sense his weight. He could have been crouching, but I don’t think he was taller than me. And not overweight so much as stocky.”

I pull on his hand with a start. “That’s what the waitress said about the guy at the bar. Stocky.”

He nods and continues, “Yeah, and when I saw him from behind, it was pretty dark, but the lines of him definitely portrayed a rather large man but somewhat fit because he stretched the distance between us pretty damn fast.”

“So maybe he’s an athlete? Or into weights or something?”

“Could be. Any of that ring a bell for you?”

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