Page 16 of Victorious Vice

“Silly.” I shake my head. “That’s whatyou’rehere for, Jared. What good is a bodyguard if all we do is stay home?”

Jared grins, showing off his white teeth. “You got me there, Raven.”

After I shower and dress, I gather all the paperwork Emily asked for while Jared makes some phone calls. Around noon, we hit the road in Jared’s black SUV. He keeps his eyes on the rearview mirror more than necessary, making sure we aren’t being followed.

“Should we be worried?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“Better safe than sorry,” he replies.

Can’t argue with that.

We don’t talk much during the long drive, and though I normally don’t mind silence, today it reminds me of the nightmare I had last night.

I erase the blurred images from my mind and pull up a novel on my iPad.

As much as I try, though, I can’t get into it.

“Tell me about your life, Jared,” I say, breaking the silence to get my mind off negativity. “You said you were a Navy SEAL, but you didn’t work directly with Leif.”

“No, we were in different units. I served for eight years, did a couple of tours in Afghanistan—which is where I met Phoenix—and a few other places I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

I study him, wondering what stories those broad shoulders carry, what horrors those dark eyes have seen. He keeps his gaze on the road, but his jaw is clenched. Clearly, he doesn’t share his past easily.

“That’s impressive,” I say.

“Maybe, but it takes its toll,” he admits. “Lost a lot of good men out there.”

The pain in his voice makes my heart ache. I reach out and lightly touch his arm. “I’m sorry, Jared. I didn’t mean to pry.”

He shakes his head, giving me a brief smile. “It’s all right. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken about it.”

We fall into silence again as the distance dwindles between Summer Creek and Austin. Despite the heaviness of our conversation, I feel a strange sense of camaraderie with Jared. His guarded demeanor and repressed sorrow echo my own pain, my own struggles, and the losses of friends I made during chemotherapy. It’s a bond born out of hardship that I never thought I’d experience with anyone else, let alone my bodyguard.

Upon reaching Austin, we arrive at Fox and Levinson. It’s on the eighteenth floor of a giant skyscraper. We walk in together, I clutching my bag filled with important documents, Jared with his alert gaze sweeping over everything and everyone around us.

The receptionist greets us with a bright smile. “May I help you?”

I give her a small wave. “We’re here to see Emily Bennett. I’m Raven Bellamy, and this is Jared. He’s my…associate.”

Minutes later, we are ushered into a spacious office overlooking the city. Emily Bennett is waiting for us, looking every bit as professional as I expected.

She stands a few feet from the floor-to-ceiling window. Her light blond hair is pulled back in a sleek bun, and she wears a white satiny blouse and sleek black pants.

She extends a hand to me. “Raven, it’s great to meet you.”

“You too,” I reply.

“And this is?” Emily asks as she turns toward Jared.

“My bodyguard, Jared.”

She nods and offers him a polite smile as they shake hands. She doesn’t seem the least bit freaked out that I travel with muscle. Interesting.

“Please sit.” Emily gestures toward the plush leather chairs across her desk.

Jared and I take a seat.

“So,” Emily begins, “let’s talk about your nonprofit.”

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