Page 102 of Trust My Bodyguard

“Ivy can hear you. Who’s Angel?”

“You, Angel. It’s your codename,” Nick says.

“Oh.”

“Zane is Mind Z. Sera is Sunflower. I’m Gorgeous. And Brody is Chatterbox.”

A surprised laugh leaves me at the last one, and Brody’s voice comes on.

“We’re not doing any codenames, Ivy.”

The timbre of his voice fills my ears and works through me. I close my eyes for a second and absorb the sound.

“Yes?”

“Everything working alright?”

“Yes.”

“And you? Feeling alright?”

“As well as can be.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ve got you.” He clears his throat. “We’re all with you, okay? You’re never alone.”

I nod, and then I remember he can’t see me. “Yes, thank you.”

“You’re supposed to say Chatterbox out.” Nick is back on. Whatever happens causes him to howl with laughter, bringing a smile to my face. “Okay, Angel. We’re good to go.”

“See you soon, Gorgeous.”

“Yes!” he cheers.

I roll my eyes as a smile lifts my lips. Then their voices die out, and I’m alone again.Not really alone.

I tell myself that as I park in a designated spot and walk past the happy crowd. It seems all of Pine Peaks is outside today. Families, all geared up with jackets, head warmers, and mittens, skate around, playing and having fun.

My heart pounds as I search out for one of my family who’d rather see me dead. The faces blend into one and my head spins. Does he see me?

“Keep going, Ivy,” Brody says in my ear. “You’ve got this.”

I resist the urge to find where they’re parked. I have to trust they’d come get me if anything goes wrong.

An empty bench in a far corner of the rink looks like a good spot. It’s a bit separated from most of the crowd but open enough to allow me to see all sides when Luke approaches.

My breath fogs before me as I exhale, taking my seat and folding my gloved hands primly in my lap. Brody mentioned that we might have to wait a bit, so I force myself to get comfortable. It’s no use building up anxiety before the main event. I might as well save up the nerves for when he shows up.

And he takes time to show up. Long minutes pass.

I use the time to get absorbed in one family’s game of ice tag. The children run around as their parents pretend to work so hard to catch them. Even from my considerable distance, above the other noises, I can isolate their thrilling laughter. They are so happy. I used to be so happy.

“You were very bad on the ice.”

I shoot to my feet and spin around. Luke is here.My fatheris here.

“Don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He splays his hands. “Come say hi to your father.”

“We can hear him,” Nick says. “Stay calm.”

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