Page 17 of Make You Mine

It was when the letters and emails began—I was being followed around—that my protection detail removed me from my safety net.

My bakery. My home. My routine.

I’ve been stored away like an object in San Antonio where his trial was set to begin, but then he escaped. Their mistake is why I’m being driven to Los Angeles without a choice in the matter.

Three states. More bodies. And more than one life was taken by this monster in each.

The more his depravity comes to light, the more I realize it’s my fault. His obsession isn’t new; it began when we were teens. I didn’t pay attention to him now or knew he existed back then, but the truth is, he hurt those women because I turned him down.

A monster with a wounded ego. I’ve never told a soul how uncomfortable and pushy he’s become. About the one time he?—

“We’ll be there shortly,” Jaime says from the passenger seat while Adam nods. The all-black F350 is roomy, and I thank God because the last thing I want is anyone close enough to pat my hand. It’s a short statement like all the others before; they’re not rude. Not in the least. Jaime’s tried while Adam is the silent type, speaking only when necessary.

They don’t work in law enforcement. Taking on this last-minute responsibility of protecting me until we reach my next handler is a favor, and one I’m very grateful for.

I no longer trust anyone in Texas.

Moreover, I know Adam’s disposition has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the beautiful blonde he kissed goodbye before we got on the road. Jaime’s goodbye was more subdued, but watching them—their love and how tender they treat their women—made me think of what I’ll never have.

Not for a while. Maybe never.

Not with the fear that grips me tight at the knowledge that my worst nightmare could be anywhere. Maybe following in the car behind us. Jason could be biding his time so he can take from me what I never gave him willingly.

“Thanks. Can’t wait to stretch my legs,” I say, trying for enthusiasm and failing miserably. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them down my denim-covered legs while pretending to clean something off. “It’s very pretty here.”

Adam meets my eyes through the rearview mirror and nods. “The detective in charge of your protection lives near the water. We could stop there first if you like. Get some fresh air?”

“That’s very kind of you, but I would rather we just get this over with.” I’m sure the smile on my face looks more like a grimace, but he’s kind enough not to mention it. Neither of them do. My nerves are choking me, the worry almost making me sick.

It’s been four days since Jason escaped police custody, forcing the change in game plan. We’ve gone from lying low to a secret race in which very few are participating in. From conviction to recapture while playing a game of hide-the-witness.

It’s also brought back the nightmares; a horrific movie reel that never fails to keep me awake.

Her screams. His laugh. All the blood?—

I’ll come for you…

“You’ll be okay, Ava. Safe here.” Adam sounds so sure of himself that I don’t have the heart to tell him how much I doubt that. That at this point, my hope is almost gone.

“May the good Lord hear you,” I mumble and then refocus my attention on the passing scenery. My eyes shift every few minutes, looking at the cars passing us and praying that Jason isn’t in one of them. Some shoot us a quick glance, but mostcontinue to drive as they maneuver through the busy traffic this state is known for.

And they weren’t lying. California is everything you see on television: lively, busy, and beautifully scary because it represents the unknown. I don’t know anyone here. I’m alone.

Jaime lowers his window, and then Adam follows, lowering the rest to let in the salty, fresh air coming off the nearby water. It’s gorgeous—a warm shade of bluish green that soothes me, seeping deep into my bones.

Closing my eyes for a second, I take it into my lungs and sag against the seat as the ex-Marines drive me toward the detective’s home. For a little while, I let go and regain control of my anxiety—I pretend this is a vacation and not a forced seclusion.

I don’t know how long I stay that way, but a hand nudging my shoulder pulls me from my semi-relaxed state. “We’re here.” Jaime’s voice is low, while his expression is one of concern.

“Thanks.” Taking my seatbelt off, I exit the truck while taking inventory of my surroundings. The building before me is huge. Intimidating. And yet, as we enter the fancy lobby and get on the elevator, there’s no fear. Instead, the same sense of calm that settled over me as I took in the fresh saltwater scent, enveloped my tired limbs tenfold.

It catches me off guard and makes my knees a bit weak, but I stay quiet. Maybe it’s the exhaustion taking over or the repercussion of my lack of appetite, but when we get off on the twenty-fourth floor, I have to force my legs to cooperate. One foot after the other, I follow a quiet Jaime down a long hallway after making a right turn while Adam remains downstairs, grabbing my bags.

At the very end, Jaime stops in front of a door with the number seven on it and tilts his head in my direction. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“For what it’s worth, Elijah Ford comes with high praise and is familiar with this case. If anyone can keep you safe, it’s him. Trust him.” My mouth opens to reply, to tell him that I’ve heard this from someone Idotrust, when his phone pings with an incoming text. Jaime snorts after reading it and looks at me. “Adam needs help with the bags. Be right back.”

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