Page 28 of Guarded from Sabotage

“People have beenkilled,” Xavier adds, fueling my anger again. “And—” He scowls. “You might want to talk to some of the guys on your SWAT team. They didn’t need to be that rough with her. Sarah wasn’t resisting.”

They wereroughwith her?

My molars grind into dust.

Forcing a calm to my voice, when I’m feeling anything but, I ask, “Can you check on Sarah? See if she’s cleared to leave yet?”

“Of course.” Quint claps my shoulder, his gaze apologetic. “And I’ll make sure the commander of the team knows.”

But before he can move, two figures come through the doors at the end of the hallway. One is tall and uniformed, the other petite and dressed in a T-shirt and yoga pants.

Sarah!

Any concerns about appropriate behavior are cast aside as I rush towards her—not running, but not walking, either. The need to see her is too intense to worry about client dynamicsand friendship and the dozen other reasons there are to keep my distance.

As soon as Sarah spots me, she glances at the officer, and he gives her a quick nod. Then she hurries ahead of him, her gaze glued to mine, until we come to an awkward stop only inches from each other.

For a moment, I just look at her, taking stock.

There are tiny lines of strain etched across her forehead and between her eyes. Her eyes are pink and swollen from crying. She’s shivering, goosebumps all over her bare arms, no doubt from the arctic-level air conditioning.

Overall, she looks scared and sad, but physically okay.

Except. There are bruises blossoming on her wrists.Dammit. Why did they have to be so rough with her?

“Dante?” Sarah’s voice wobbles. Tears well up. “You’rehere.”

“Of course.” And I say a silentscrew itand pull her into my arms.

I don’t care about what’s right. All I care about is comforting her. Holding her. Reassuring myself that she’s okay; that she’s safe.

I need to feel her body against mine more than I need to breathe.

She snakes her arms around my waist and sags against me, burrowing her face into my chest.

Tiny shudders ripple through her body, and I hug her closer, murmuring, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

“Dante. My apartment—” Her voice breaks.

“I know.” Rubbing her back in small, soothing circles, I say, “We’ll get it fixed for you. I promise.”

She lifts her head from my chest and looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. “But where will I go? It’s all ruined…”

Without thinking, I press my lips to her forehead. “You’re going to come back to B and A with me. And I’ll take care of everything. Okay?”

Without hesitation, she nods, and the trust in her eyes is everything.

“Okay.”

CHAPTER NINE

SARAH

As far as bad days go, this has to be right up there.

First, my social media and email get hacked, and horrible things I couldn’t even imaginethinkingare splashed all over them. Insults I’d never dream of saying. Slurs so awful I couldn’t bear to read them. Terrible lies about my coworkers and clients.

Then my job. The thing I take the most pride in; gone.

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