Page 22 of Keep Her from Them

Ben inclined his head. “Messy business.”

“It was.”

“And ye handled it exactly the way I would’ve. I’m proud of ye.”

Another even tighter knot of tension unravelled. I’d been fired because of the actions I’d taken last night. I hadn’t failed at anything in my life, ever. Not an exam, not my driving test at seventeen, not my helicopter private licence or the extended tests I’d taken earlier in the year to fly commercially. I was driven and hardworking, yet everything I’d left behind felt like a failure.

“Walk me through it. Don’t skip a detail,” Ben ordered.

As methodically as I could manage, I worked through the events as they’d unfolded, from the minute I’d reached the palace, to when we’d talked on the phone, then the aftermath. The photographer. The drunken friend. The exit strategy.

Ben listened and praised my choices. As the newest member of his team, I still had a lot to learn, but I’d been out with Leo on tour and to high-profile events, and I’d flown as part of that. We had a slick process designed around protecting our principal.

I exhaled frustration. “The problem isn’t the fact that she’s photographed everywhere she goes. That’s unavoidable. It’s not even that there isn’t the budget for twenty-four-seven protection. It’s the fact her team doesn’t give a flying crap, and she isn’t following any safety protocols, let alone basic ones. Something’s going to happen. I can see it a mile off, and any trained person would, too. What the hell is Barrington Bray doing with that team?”

Ben scrubbed a hand through his dark-blond hair, his grey t-shirt displaying our McRae Bodyguards logo. He pursed his lips then picked up his phone. Opening something on the screen, he eyed me. “Only one way to find out.”

My heart thumped, but Ben was right. It was no good me complaining to him. He had my back, and the person responsible for that shitshow was the service owner.

“Call him,” I agreed.

He dialled. The phone rang.

It kept going, no answer. Then the voicemail service kicked in. Ben hung up and tapped out a text.

“I’ve asked him to call me back.” He set the phone down and steepled his fingers. “I owe ye an apology for that mess.”

“No, ye don’t.”

He trained his gaze on me, his expression telling me I needed to hush. “I agreed to lend a member of my team without doing the legwork to check what you’d be going into. I thought theexperience would be good, and I’ve known Barrington for years so I trusted that his operation would be decent. I believed he’d have his finger on the pulse. I was wrong.”

“I didn’t mind the work,” I slowly gave up. “I would’ve stayed to help.”

“From the picture ye painted of Jared, I doubt he’d listen. No, there’s something else going on that we don’t know and can’t be ignored.” He rapped on his desk. “Leave it with me. You’re still off the rota for a few more days, so go and chill out, then we’ll talk in the morning. Jax is around the hangar somewhere.”

He released me, and I slunk outside, lighter than when I’d come in but still troubled. A quick hunt around gave me no joy for finding Jackson, so I shot him a text and let myself drift into the helicopter bay.

This was my happy place. Engine oil and rotor blades.

Near the hangar entrance, a mechanic worked on the guts of a Sikorsky S-92A, the rescue heli my brother flew in all weathers. Beyond that was a Robinson R44, used by the commercial arm of the hangar to fly private hire. It was cheap and fast, and used to get execs to important meetings and doctors to hospitals. I could pilot both, but it was the Airbus H-125 that was my baby.

I neared my favourite, snug in a bay. I flew it weekly to get Leo to and from meetings and gigs. On his last tour, crowd trouble and a narrow escape left Valentine, another of our team, stabbed in the thigh. As a result, Leo had changed how he moved in and out of cities. No more staying in hotels overnight, no matter the time.

I could fly him to London in an hour and a half. He could perform gigs all over the country then be home and tucked up with his wife and kids before the night was out. It was an arrangement that suited everyone and gave me a role in the service I could be proud of. Something I wasn’t exactly feeling after the disaster of the previous few days.

Amid the clatter and clanks of people working nearby, I peered through the window of the heli, checking out the avionics. A quick jaunt skywards would cure my stress levels no end. Flying took every bit of my concentration, and it cleared my mind like nothing else. Then I remembered my promise to Gabe. I couldn’t head out in case my sister-in-law needed me.

I was grounded.

A hand seized my shoulder and spun me around.

Jackson laughed and grabbed me into a hug. “Found ye.” He pulled back and scrutinised my face. “What’s wrong?”

Everything. All of it was wrong.

The fact I couldn’t stop thinking about Alex’s safety when it was none of my business anymore. The sense of being at home when I should be somewhere else. Ben would address the team issues with Barrington, and that was where my story ended. I needed to get it out of my head.

I mimed shooting myself. “Too much. What are ye doing?”