Page 50 of His to Protect

“We’ll find him.” Confidence rang rich in his voice. It did little to quell the rage that was beginning to build in me. Fear. Not for me, but for Trina and what would happen if she ran into the asshole again. “But it’s going to take some time. You got somewhere you can take off to for a while? Maybe Arizona to see your parents?”

Beautiful idea. Not gonna happen, but I still grinned when I thought of my mom meeting Trina. She was the kind of woman my mom could relate to.

“I can’t get someone to cover the restaurant that long,” I admitted, my reluctance clear. “But I can get her away for a couple days.”

“Not sure that’s gonna help, but I’ll pressure the guys here to start searching. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Pressure in my chest. Uncertainty a stampede in my gut. I felt sick.

“Yeah.” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck again before dropping my hand. It curled into a fist as if danger was knocking on my door. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“I’m putting myself at risk of deep shit for this, Dec. I gotta ask again. She worth it?”

I wanted to throw in his face that he got involved with Blue when she was his damn undercover target. Was she worth it? Not that I said shit then. I saw the man before he introduced her to me. Just the way he said her name was proof enough.

The certainty in Trina’s eyes last night when she stepped toward me and said she wanted what I did popped into my mind.

There was no other answer to give except, “Yeah, asshole. I’m sure.”

“That’s all I need. Let me know where you’re going and when you’ll be back once you get a plan together. Based on how long Morgenson’s been gone, I wouldn’t wait.”

Fucking hell.

Before I could reply, he ended the call and silence echoed in my ear.

I hit the End button and tossed the phone onto my bed before heading to the shower and getting ready for the day.

I’d give my assistant manager, Mac, a little bit of time to wake up before I gave him a call to let him know I’d be out of town. I hoped that by then I’d know where we were going.

And that Trina had agreed to come with me.

—

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Trina asked, her knee bouncing in the passenger seat.

My hand curled around the steering wheel of her old convertible as we drove west on I-94, headed directly for Chicago. I shrugged, twisting my hands around the wheel again. Fuck it. I needed to touch her. Soothe her.

Comfort her.

The more I was around her the more it felt like this was what I was meant to do—protect this woman.

“Mac can handle Fireside Grill,” I said, reaching over and taking her hand. I tried not to cringe about that phone call I had to make this morning. My assistant manager essentially gave me the same shit Tyson had, with only one-tenth of the information, but it’s not as if people hadn’t figured out I had a soft spot for Trina, with her working in my office and serving tables without actually being hired.

I figured being the boss gave me the right to break a few rules here and there.

“I meant taking off like this.”

“Chicago’s a bigger city,” I explained, although we’d been over this. My plan was a quick, two-day, three-state trip.

Sell her car in Chicago. Take the train to Milwaukee. Ferry back to Michigan and drive home. With the cash from selling her car at whatever shady car lot we could find, she was going to buy a new car in Milwaukee. At the very least, selling the car in Chicago would send Morgenson hours out of his way if he’d had any idea she was in Detroit.

“I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.”

Her surprise made me cringe. This wasn’t a big deal. Any decent man would do something like this, even if he wasn’t thinking about getting into a woman’s pants.

Or under her skirt, since Trina came out of her room today dressed in some flowing, floor-scraping, skirt-dress type of thing.

I had no idea what it was called, but it kept her almost fully covered.

---