Page 15 of Under Control

He immediately pulled the truck onto the side of the road—a small patch of concrete lit up by a single streetlight in the one-shop town. The other travelers dispersed quickly, heading wherever they needed or wanted to go.

Carrick jumped out of the truck, breathing in the cold air of the dry night. As soon as he let the driver’s door shut, Danica whipped her head around, flashing her eyes at him. She realized who it was and she gasped. With what he assumed was instinct birthed by a habit, she bolted.

Running as fast as she could—far, far away from him.

“Well, this is fucking going well,” he cracked, and instantly sprinted after her.

He easily closed the distance between them.

“Dani!” he bellowed. “Fucking slow down.”

Finally close enough, he lunged and grabbed her arm, pulling her into him. She fought back, slapping and punching at his chest. She was damn strong—much stronger than she appeared. He quickly released her when he heard her breathing sharpen and her sobs start. It was easy to understand that was she desperate as hell.

She was terrified.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her, making a mental note to give her real fighting lessons someday. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Danica cried out harder, tears streaming down her cheeks. “That’s what he always said. That’s always what he wanted me to hear.”

Carrick sucked back whatever lump was in his throat, his eyes widening.

“Dani, talk to me.” He took a stronger tone, feeling every muscle flex protectively as he yanked her into him. “Who said that? Your father?”

“He’s not my father!” she pushed Carrick hard against his chest, her voice cracking in pain. She was beginning to hyperventilate, and he saw anger and deep hurt.

Suddenly, something Carrick had felt deep inside started making sense.

Kosta Petrov isn’t her father?

She winced and twisted as she sputtered out tears, struggling to breathe. He felt that pain. Someone had really done a number on her. As she pushed harder and harder against his chest, shrieking as she cried, Carrick did the only thing he knew.

He wrapped his big, muscled arms around her small frame and hugged her tight against him. It was a bear hug she’d never be able to get out of. He sucked in air slowly and rhythmically, making sure to release his hot breath onto her soft hair as he gently smoothed the stray locks. He wasn’t sure if it was going to work at first, but in a minute, her crying abated and she buried her face into his chest, breathing with him.

Finally, he pulled her back slightly so that he could see her face.

“Hey.” He exhaled down on her, assessing where she was at. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Under that one streetlight, he could see red eyes and a redder nose. Her heart-shaped face, dusted with a golden tan, was wet from tears and wincing in pain.

“Why are you doing this?” she challenged him, her eyes batting out tears. “Just leave me alone.”

He let out another strong lungful, keeping her with him. “Well, congrats. I’m your bodyguard now.”

She shot him a confused look and her mouth dropped. “What? Why? Is he paying you?”

He brought her back into his chest, holding her head against him again. The answer was obvious. He clenched his jaw, hating it all the same. That wasn’t why he was there—but he obviously could never say that.

“Look… Let’s just get you somewhere safe, somewhere to sleep. It’s the middle of the night,” he said, “and we can take it from there.”

Her muscles flexed and she was trying to push away, but this time he let her go.

“No,” she snorted, “I’m not going with you. You are not my bodyguard. I don’t know why you chose to follow me, but I’ll tell you this for free. I want nothing to do with you. Leave me alone!”

She turned on her heels and started marching away from him at a fast clip. Of course, Carrick couldn’t let her get away again. He didn’t want to kidnap her, but he didn’t want to watch her go—not deep into the desert mountains in the middle of the night. She was obviously a girl in trouble—more trouble than he’d first expected.

In the darkness, his mind started flashing memories across his consciousness. At first, he was reminded of an operation he’d run with the SEALs in sub-Saharan Africa, then he remembered something much, much worse. A pang of fear shot through him, a fear he’d never admit or breathe out loud. He had to own the memories from his past, whether he liked them or not.

For a few moments, Carrick stalked behind her, taking in their surroundings and watching her. Danica hunched over, clutching the bag tighter to her back, and panting steadily, between the uphill hiking and stress. He had to admire her resolve. One thing had become damn clear. She was willful, strong and determined to survive. Carrick grew more and more drawn to her with the realization that she was much, much greater than what she appeared.

---