Page 63 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
“Let me rephrase,” I say, crouching beside him. “You took photos of Bailey Beausoleil. You stalked her. You got close to herunderage daughter. And now you’re in a private facility, off-grid, without your gear or your backup. There are all kinds of ways we can play this, and unless you cooperate, none of them go well for you.”
Still no answer.
I sigh. “Man, I really didn’t want to break fingers tonight, but I make exceptions for exceptional assholes.”
Huck cracks his knuckles.
And the guy finally speaks. “He hired me,” he coughs.
I stand. “Who?”
“I work for Oswalt.”
My stomach goes cold. “Say it again.”
“I was hired by David Oswalt. To follow her around. To take surveillance shots. Inside and outside her property.”
“Alone?”
“I don’t know who else he hired. I was told to monitor from a distance.”
And something in me locks into place. Because now it’s official. Now it’s war.
I step out of the quiet room, shut the steel door behind me, and exhale. Whatever Huck does to him, I don’t fucking care. We got that confession recorded.
Chief’s leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, stone-faced. “Well?”
“David paid him. Surveillance, long lens, full instruction. He’s the one who took the pictures.”
She doesn’t look surprised. Her jaw flexes. “I want a swing on him.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
She nods her gratitude once, then slips inside. Chief has a thing about men who hurt women and girls. We all do, but it’s more personal for her. I won’t stand in her way.
I open my phone and type one line to Sean:David paid him. He admitted it.
It takes ten seconds before the reply comes back:Understood. What are you thinking?
I stare at the screen for a long moment before I answer. Because I’m not just thinking. I’m planning. I’m lining up pressure points. Public, private. Legal, digital. I’m drafting strategies like code—efficient, silent, lethal. David wants to play dirty? We’ve got dirt. He wants to be clever? We’re ten steps ahead.
So, I send back:He wanted a scandal. Let’s give him one—with his name on it this time.
Sean doesn’t respond. But he doesn’t need to. Because now we’re all on the same page. Behind me, Huck steps out of the room, wiping some blood from his knuckles with a towel.
“He still breathing?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “He’ll live. Probably. If she doesn’t finish him.”
Chief steps out a moment later, looking nonplussed and sharp. No blood. She doesn’t need to make them bleed to make them hurt.
I peek in past her shoulder. The bloodied man is sitting in a puddle of his own making. His shoulders are heaving. “Nice work, both of you.”
Chief smirks. It’s as close to a smile as she ever wears. “I’ll take care of him, if you two wanna get out of here.”
Whether she means he’ll see tomorrow or not, I’m not sure. “Get some pictures of what you two did. Put them on the dark web with David’s name on them. Let the underworld know what happens when you work with Oswalt. It’ll make it harder for him to hire anyone else.”
“Got it.” She disappears into the container, closing the door behind her.
