Page 19 of Her Faithful Protector

Sam responds, “You can count on me, brother.”

Jack departs without a backward glance. Unable to utter anything, I watch his every move until he disappears from sight.

6

JACK

As soon as I arrive at LAX, I purchase a new prepaid phone using cash to avoid leaving any unnecessary traces. Having only been to California once, to San Diego, I can say I know Kabul better than Los Angeles. I need to give myself a crash course on this city so I can look and think like a local.

Operating under pressure is ingrained in every Marine. It’s how we survive, endure, and excel. But now, I’m facing an unforgivable kind of pressure, even fear, which should never be in my vocabulary.

Every life is valuable, but nothing else takes precedence when it comes to innocent children. My connection with Quinton goes beyond knowing his name. It stems from the special bond I share with his mother.

Is this fear the price you pay for love?

I don’t believe so.

Love must be earned. The giver has the right to know who you are before granting it to you. However, love doesn’t come with a price tag. You don’t have to pay for anything to be loved. When it’s meant for you, it’s yours.

As a Marine, I’m a weapon—I’m the danger.

With Ava, as a man who’s capable of feeling, fear becomes a part of me. I have a choice to make it my enemy or my friend.

Ava’s pain draws me to her as if she has been mine forever. Whatever danger she may be in, it’s my responsibility to shield her or anything or anyone that’s hers. And it’s my responsibility to wipe those tears and bring a smile back to her face.

I take the deepest breath I can, resetting myself.

Fear is the bridge to perseverance.

And I’m crossing it now.

To match my borrowed suit, I pick a sleek black BMW from a high-end rental near the airport and head to the city. It doesn’t take an experienced traveler to recognize the palm-lined streets or the ridiculous opulence that define Beverly Hills. Mansions as big as castles, along with their immaculate gardens, dot the landscape as I drive by. Willem Botha’s house is no different. I slow down to give it a passing glance, then continue until I reach a small hill a few streets away. The elevation allows me to have a vantage point into the complex.

Parking the car, I position myself behind a tree and use binoculars to survey the area. The house’s pristine facade reveals no hints of life inside.

I call Ava, and she answers with a soft but alert voice. “Jack, where are you?”

“I’m looking at your house. Well, Willem’s house.”

“Are there police there? Like… have they turned the house into a crime scene?”

“No. No sign of that. Trust me, he’s still alive.”

“Or it could be that those men have hidden his body somewhere…”

“They want you to be the killer, remember? They wouldn’t want to disturb the scene.”

“I guess…”

“Ava, how do I get in without setting off anything.”

“Is there anyone outside? Today is Wednesday. Perhaps the gardeners are still there? Or do you see any movement behind the windows?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”

Ava sighs. “If Willem is still alive, he must have changed the alarm code. So there’s no way for you to get into the house itself. But there might be a way to access the gardens. You might get a better look inside from there.”

“I can easily climb up the gate, but will it trigger anything?”

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