Page 62 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
Well, that was an unmitigated disaster. Now what?
A thousand plans jet through my head, most of which are centered around winning Vanessa back. But first? I’ve got to do damage control.
She doesn’t know that the minute she called the burner phone her father shoved in my hand the day he left me her official protector, it sent a text to his device. Right now, Douglas Hartley thinks there’s an emergency and that Vanessa is in danger.
That’s not good.
I need to call the man pronto and assure him that his daughter is alive and in one piece before he hunts me down, barking about his baby girl’s safety, and tears my head off. Once he’s calm…I’ll break the news that I’m going to marry her—with or without his blessing.
I’d better have bullets handy.
Sighing, I tug the car keys from my pocket, then reach for my cell. I’m scrolling through the contacts on my personal phone as quickly as I can, but the fucking thing rings in my hand.
Too late.
“Douglas—”
“What the fuck is going on?”
I head for my car and try to find reassuring words. I’m drawing a blank because my brain has one track now: Vanessa. I’m fixated. No, obsessed. She can’t get away from me. I won’t let another man put his hands on her. I have to make things right between us.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I slide into my car parked across the street from Vanessa’s cottage and watch her through the windshield.
But she glares at me through the window, arms crossed over her chest. Yep, she’s furious. I had strict orders not to tell anyone that my job at the hotel and my life in St. Augustine were a front. As soon as this mission is over, Douglas will assign me elsewhere—for God knows how long. I really hope it’s not Russia. It sucks there this time of year…
And I would be so far from Vanessa.
On the other hand, she wants space now and I can’t completely piss her off. If I want to win her back, I shouldn’t look like the stalker I’ve become. Sure, I was assigned to her—for a good cause. But honestly, I love this part of my job.
Douglas scoffs as I start my car. “Then why did she call the emergency line twice this morning?”
“I don’t know,” I say as I drive around the corner, then pull into the nearby park.
“Bullshit.”
I knew that answer wouldn’t be good enough for Douglas, and if I don’t come clean, he’ll call her, anyway.
I sigh as I walk across the open space until I have eyes on Vanessa’s place again. “Someone broke into her cottage yesterday. I don’t know who. He took nothing and left nothing behind.”
“C’mon. You fucking know who did this.”
I know who’s responsible. Bryan Russell is drug-distributing scum who’s been using his job as the hotel manager, along with his connections at other resorts around the country, to facilitate his illegal activities. “I don’t know exactly who Russell sent to do his dirty work. And I don’t know why he struck at Vanessa. Does he think she’s on to his ruse? Or is he trying to warn us away by silently threatening her?”
Either way, I won’t fucking have it.
“My questions, too. Is she okay? Afraid?”
“Fine. A little rattled, but?—”
“Where are you?”
“At the park down the street from her place.”
“Watching her?”
As always. “Yes.”
“Have you laid eyes on her recently?”
