Page 114 of The Bodyguard

“Apparently, much to John Patterson’s chagrin, she’llonlyspeak with you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The drive north took an eternity. Angela squirmed. Her ribs and stomach ached. She winced. Sawyer would change his position, dangerously close to hovering. She’d pull back, not needing anyone to see their personal business. Then the cycle would repeat itself, except in reverse. She’d move toward him, and he’d press away like she had the plague.

But that was far from her most pressing thought. Mylene Hathaway had her full attention. Why did she want to talk to Angela? How did she even know that Angela was nearby?

Roman exited the interstate. Anxiety and anticipation were a heart-rattling combination. Her hands shook in her lap. Angela wished her untrained status wasn’t so apparent when surrounded by bombproof mountains of men. Then again, why did she care? She’d probably never see Cash and Roman again, and Sawyer had already seen her vulnerabilities.

Once again, her mind was back on Sawyer.

Roman made a few quick turns and then pulled the SUV toward a standard-looking office park surrounded by a very non-standard high metal fence topped with razor wire. The vehicle stopped at a security checkpoint.

“This looks very official,” she said under her breath.

Roman rolled down his window and stated who they were. A man with a working dog circled the car. Another man with a mirror on a telescoped poll inspected the vehicle’s undercarriage.

After the group had passed the mirror-and-dog inspection, the barriers in front of them lowered. Roman rolled over what she assumed were security spikes ensuring traffic moved only in one direction.

“Is this some kind of black-ops site?” she asked.

Roman nodded. “Something like that.”

They parked in a space near the front of a building. Angela’s nerves rocketed from her fingers to her toes.

Roman opened her car door, and Angela winced as she crawled out. “Do you think she’s in there?” she asked.

“Yup. I do,” Roman said.

They met Sawyer and Cash on the sidewalk. Cash led the way. Roman took the rear. Sawyer placed himself on the side of the street. They surrounded her like a security detail, not trusting their high-security surroundings. She couldn’t imagine how someone who wanted her dead might penetrate the complex. Then again, she couldn’t have imagined most of what had transpired recently.

“You doing okay, Ange?” Sawyer asked.

“Nervous.” She ached to reach for Sawyer’s hand. Professionalism kept her in check. Their lives would return to normal eventually. There was no need to bring her private life into the workplace. Somewhere in this building was a woman who Angela needed to see, who she wanted to save.

Could she still do that? Nothing had gone according to plan. Certainly, Angela hadn’t imagined Mylene would be looking for her also.

They entered through heavily guarded double doors. The Titan men relinquished their weapons. They walked toward metal detectors while their belongings crept slowly down a conveyor belt and were viewed under an X-ray.

“Guess you guys aren’t messing around,” she said to the man who nodded for her to proceed.

Not messing around meant he didn’t break his scowl even when escorting their group down a long hall that dead-ended with a single elevator. Their guard swiped a badge and stared into a retina scanner, and the elevator’s large doors opened to reveal a compartment like an oversized freight cart.

The guard swiped his badge and scanned his eyes again before selecting their floor. The door shut slowly as though they were too heavy to move fast. Then down everyone went, past the first two underground levels, until they opened on the floor labeled Sub-Level C.

Armed security greeted them. None of the men with Angela balked at their high-caliber-rifle-bearing counterparts who led the way.

After a journey down a long hallway illuminated by fluorescent lights, the party was deposited in a small room that looked like a television police drama’s take on an interrogation room. The metal table was bolted onto the cement floor, and the air smelled like despair.

An armed man gestured to the chair. “Ma’am.”

Angela took a seat. No one else did. The metal chairs were as uncomfortable as they looked.

Cash and Roman posted behind her. Sawyer stood across from her, his back to a painted cinderblock wall.

“This is cozy,” she said.

Sawyer’s lips curved.

---