Page 10 of Guarded from Treachery

“You said you work for a security company. That you protect people when no one else will help…” As her voice trails off, there’s a quiver at the end of it, and I realize she’s not just nervous, she’s scared.

Shit. Why is she scared? What happened?

But now’s not the time to bark questions at her. Instead, I gentle my voice as I reply, “Yes. That’s exactly what we do. Are you in trouble?”

“I…” Another shuddering inhale. “I think someone’s following me. And weird things have been happening. Ever since that man attacked me.”

My jaw clenches. Worry clutches my chest.

Dammit. Why didn’t I just call her? Check on her?

How long has this been happening?

Blowing out a steadying breath, I say, “Isla. Can you tell me about it?”

“No one believes me. I went to the police, but they—” Her voice cracks. “I don’t know what to do. My family, they won’t help. And I—” Another crack. “I’m scared, Matt.”

Ah, shit.

A weight settles in my stomach.

She’s upset. Frightened.

My instincts are screaming at me to do whatever I can to help her.

But I can’t go to her today. Not when I’m the only one here. I can’t leave Jade, Lucy, and Sarah alone.

“It’s okay,” I soothe. “We can figure this out. I can’t leave today, but I can come to Dallas tomorrow. And if you want to tell me as much as you can over the phone, so when I get there?—”

“Can I come to you?” A note of desperation strains her voice. “Today? Please? I can get out of work early and be there by seven.” She pauses. Sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t assume… You’re probably busy.”

“No.” It’s quick. A little louder than intended. “No, I’m not busy. I’m just worried. That’s a long trip. Do you have anyone to come with you?”

“No.” She sounds so forlorn, my heart twists. “It’s just me. But I can make the drive. If you don’t mind me coming?”

As much as I hate the reason for Isla’s visit, I can’t deny my eagerness to see her.

Before I can respond, she adds softly, “I meant to call you. Before all this… Things have been so crazy. Awful. But I wanted to call you.”

Oh.

“I absolutely don’t mind you coming here,” I assure her, “and I’m so glad you called.”

3

ISLA

What if he doesn’t believe me?

I’ve asked myself the same question at least twenty times during the drive here.

What if I tell Matt this incredible story and I’m met with the same dismissive reaction I got from the police?

What if my plea for help is rejected as soundly as it was by my family?

If I’m rejected again, I’m not sure where to turn next.

It’s been two weeks since the first domino was tipped, and soon after, the rest of my neatly arranged life came crashing down around me.

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