Bulletproof Badge. Angi Morgan
dead women fixed on the back of her eyelids. Every time she blinked she saw the blood and gore. He pulled her hair to get her to move, but she was about to be terribly sick.
With blurred vision, she leaned forward and lost what little was in her stomach. The man hopped out of her way. Hearing more fighting above her head, she continued to retch. Someone pulled back her hair, put an arm around her waist and helped her stand. He led her off the white gravel drive. Past the man who had yanked her hair, now unconscious on the green grass. Its cool shaded lushness registered under her bare feet.
“Water?” she squeaked out.
“Can’t help you with that,” a deep Texas twang answered. “But if you get on the back of my bike, I can keep you alive.”
As weary as she was, that popped her head up. Petrified, she connected with a pair of jade-green eyes, sandy short brown hair and a casual self-confident smile that didn’t belong in her surreal afternoon.
Gorgeous. Absolutely the type of man she wanted to be with any other time. He dangled her shoes in front of her, and she slipped them on.
The stranger held out his hand. “We really need to go now, sweetheart. You coming?”
Yes. But she didn’t think she said it out loud. She straddled the back of the motorcycle in her short skirt and heels. Two large, strong hands grabbed her thighs, pulled her closer and placed her feet on two metal rods. Her sequined skirt was up as high as it could be without revealing anything, but now wasn’t the time to care.
The motorcycle sprang to life, and her arms shot around him. There wasn’t any give to his body when her fingers locked together across his hard abs. She closed her eyes and buried her face against his black jacket. She wanted to see nothing, especially the gruesome picture the shooting had left in her mind.
The motorcycle screeched to a halt, sliding sideways in the gravel. Her rescuer slowly took off across the field, avoiding the closed front gate.
“Hold on tight.”
She didn’t think she could hold tighter until her bottom was airborne over the first incline. Had she left the safety of the house for a dangerous daredevil? Had it been safe at the house? Absolutely not. And how did she know for certain this man wasn’t a part of the...the...
Go ahead and say it. Murders! The man dressed in black had murdered two people right in front of her, then stared openmouthed as she’d screamed. This wasn’t the killer. His dark green eyes proved that. The man she’d fought with was just as tall, but his eyes were black with hatred.
She’d never forget those eyes.
They flew over the next small hill, landing hard on both tires.
“Slow down before your kill us!” she shouted in his ear.
“Can’t. They’re following. May start shooting.”
She turned behind them, her hair whipped across her face. Sure enough, a black SUV bounced over the rolling hills of the Texas lake country. The motorcycle skidded, and she held tighter. If the men shot at them, she’d be dead. Period.
Her rescuer turned sharply, heading toward a tree line. “Where are you going?”
“Where they can’t.”
The trees were so thick she didn’t think they could get through, either. He slowed a little, but zigzagged, tilting them from side to side, making her want to put her feet out to drag along the ground. She kept them secured and kept her body smooshed against the stranger’s back, moving like a second layer with him.
Bushes whacked at her legs as they zoomed past. The branches stung but suddenly stopped. The first thing she saw was the perfectly smooth carpet of green. She looked behind them, and no one followed. The SUV turned and followed on the other side of the trees for a few seconds before turning away.
“Hey!”
Someone shouted, making her look forward. They were on a golf course, bouncing yet again over the greenway to a cart path. Once there, the ride was smoother, but her hero didn’t slow. If anything, he went even faster. It was a Friday night at dusk, and the golfers were finishing their rounds. So they were few and far between on the earlier holes they’d zipped past.
Kenderly only relaxed a little. This time when her eyes closed, they were burning with tears for Isabella. No one deserved to die that way.
He was right. Her hero. They couldn’t stop. Her unnamed rescuer popped over curbs, into a parking lot and on to the street. He ran stop signs, passed other cars as if they were standing still and just kept going.
Once on Highway 71 leading back to Austin, he wrapped his long fingers around her thigh and gently tugged her close again. His subtle message was that their wild ride wasn’t over. She moved, resting her head once more on his back. They rocketed through the wind, which didn’t allow for talking.
She couldn’t have answered any of his questions or any of the thousands running through her mind. Isabella had given her a small jewelry case and told her not to open it for three days.
Oh no! The case! She’d dropped it somewhere. She’d been so out of it by losing her cookies all over the guard’s feet that she’d forgotten. What had Isabella not wanted anyone to know? Why was she supposed to wait three days? Kenderly wasn’t sure she’d ever know now.
Her hero stroked her frozen forearm, slowly warming it back to life against his chest. When she cried harder, he held on to her hands tighter.
It didn’t matter who he was. He’d probably saved her life. Okay, he’d definitely saved her life. But that was only one reason she was thankful. The stranger’s actions in the past few minutes were more intimacy and kindness than she’d felt in years.
The arm under Garrison’s hand was no longer frozen. Early spring in Texas was fine with lots of sunshine on you, but once it got dark—and speeding in excess of seventy miles per hour—you could get chilled to the bone.
“You can let me off anywhere,” she said as he slowly merged with city traffic near the university hangouts.
“I don’t think so, sweetie. No discussion necessary.” He sped up again to limit the conversation.
“But I need to go back. I have to.”
Darting between stopped cars, the horns blared as he pushed safely through red lights. He had to keep moving, so she couldn’t jump off. Go back? She was the ranger’s big break, and he couldn’t let her disappear.
“Let me go at the next corner, or I’ll start screaming my head off,” she shouted, piercing his ear.
“We have a head start, but we’re still being followed.” It was logical to think so. There was only one road back to Austin from the crime scene. It didn’t make sense that Tenoreno’s men would give up because of a row of trees. He slowed the bike to a more normal speed. “After I rescued you and everything, screaming just wouldn’t be cool.”
“Neither is kidnapping.”
“Come on, Kenderly. We both know I’m not kidnapping you. I saved your a— I got you out of there safely,” he amended. “Why the hell do you want to go back?”
“I appreciate it. I really do. But there’s something I... I just want to go home.” She sat straighter, pulling away from him.
He immediately missed her soft breasts pushed against his back. He needed both hands to control the bike, or he’d pull her closer again. Instead he pulled into a parking lot, darted to the side of the building and cut the engine. He twisted a bit on the seat to face her and reached into his pocket.
“Is this what you need to go back for?” He held up the smaller case he’d picked up from her seat. “The purse strap got stuck on the gear shift. I couldn’t get