Escorted by the Ranger Read online

  She removed the green ball cap she had been wearing. Jack glanced around. No one was paying attention to them. Even the employee who had done their paperwork and checked their identifications hadn’t mentioned Marissa’s profession or looked at her twice.

  Jack demonstrated basic safety on the gun and he showed her how to use the weapon. It was a small gun, good for beginners. He aimed and fired, making his target within a few inches.

  Marissa appeared impressed. “How long did it take you to learn to shoot that way?”

  Years of practice and drilling and lessons and training. “My entire career.”

  She stepped up to the stall. Jack placed the gun in her hands and she leveled it at the target. The shot went wide.

  She tried again. Missed. Tried several more times. Missed each time.

  “This is harder than it looks,” Marissa said.

  “It takes practice. Don’t get discouraged. We can make this a regular thing if you have an interest in learning.”

  Marissa furrowed her brow in concentration. “I want to do this. I can do this.”

  He was getting the sense this was about more than hitting the target. She was looking for a sense of safety that had been taken from her. Knowing she could protect herself might give her a boost.

  Several more attempts and after discussing technique, Marissa hit the target. Not anywhere near the center, but a hit. Her shoulders relaxed and she seemed pleased.

  They left the gun range an hour later. Marissa’s steps seemed lighter. In her hat and sunglasses, she was almost unrecognizable.

  She slid into the passenger seat. “I feel better. That was stress relieving.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” Jack said. He was starting to think this might go on for months. He couldn’t stay for months. His relationship with her was escalating and it would cause him to make a mistake. Having been down this road with Bianca, he wasn’t willing to travel it with Marissa. His best focus came from being emotionally distant.

  She should know how to defend and protect herself. In the immediate term, he was the right choice to protect her. But in the long run, he couldn’t commit. How would she feel when he left?

  Avoiding hurt when he left was impossible and Jack didn’t know where that left them or where to go with that sentiment.

  * * *

  In high spirits, Marissa was ready to face the photo shoot again. She wouldn’t allow her grief or worry or anxiety to play on her face today. She was a professional and she’d act like it. It wouldn’t be the first time in her life she’d masked her emotions for the sake of a job.

  Yesterday was behind her. Negative thoughts and disparaging looks from her coworkers wouldn’t bother her. A night of sleep—with Jack in her bed—had been restorative. Her workout that morning had been intense and she’d eaten well. She was physically and mentally prepared.

  “You ready to do this?” Niles asked. He was a great photographer, experienced and well-known, having had his photographs in every major fashion magazine and website over the last decade. He was also a friend. She appreciated that he’d recognized she’d needed time and had been willing to adjust his schedule to give it to her.

  “I’m great. I’m sorry about yesterday. I got this now,” Marissa said.

  “If it helps, you look fierce today. Much higher energy. Does your good mood have anything to do with the sexy man escorting you around town?” Niles asked, holding up his camera and snapping a picture of her, while inclining his head at Jack.

  Marissa glanced in Jack’s direction. He had centered her. Helped her put her life into perspective. “He’s my bodyguard. With everything that’s been going on, he’s been working extra hard. We’ve gotten close.”

  Niles snapped another picture. “Close. That’s a good way to put it. When you’re working today, think about him. Your expression when you looked at him is radiant.”

  Marissa tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Niles turned to check the lighting again. The model who had mouthed off the day before stepped onto the set. “You ready today? Or will you blow this whole thing? Some of us need to work new jobs, not spend days on this.”

  Marissa had tried to be kind and understanding and sweet. But this woman was pressing her beyond her patience level. She had held her tongue before. Being pushed around wasn’t in the cards today. “I’ve lost two good friends in the last month. Your comments are uncalled for. Delays happen. I didn’t intentionally screw with your plans. Instead of attacking me, why don’t you consider that I have a lot going on in my life and show some compassion? Perhaps if you were nicer to work with, I’d recommend you for another campaign. If you hadn’t realized it, I’m principal on some campaigns and you wouldn’t be the first model I’ve helped. So get down off your self-righteous horse because maybe next time, you’ll need some compassion. I only hope that you aren’t given the same that you’ve shown me because you’d come up empty.”

  Unloading felt great like a weight lifting. It was rare for her to fire back at anyone and it felt good.

  “Michael said you were self-centered,” the model said.

  Marissa blinked at her. Michael? “Michael who?” She knew dozens of Michaels.

  “Michael Langer?” The attitude on the model’s face made Marissa want to slap her.

  Marissa’s ex-husband and lead singer of Silver Sundays. Surprise and hurt sliced through her. Michael had acted fine toward her at Avery’s funeral. Perhaps that had been a pass given the circumstances, and he was still harboring anger. “I’m sorry Michael feels that way. But maybe you should give me a chance before you believe one side of a story. Marriages are complicated.”

  Marissa whirled away. She was finished with the dirty looks and arguing. She was here to do a job and she would do it. If she didn’t leave the negativity behind, it would pull her under.

  Determined to prove she could ignore her personal life and focus on the job, Marissa was all in.

  * * *

  Screaming filled the air.

  Jack’s adrenaline fired. He was looking at Marissa and she was fine. Primary objective met. But someone was in trouble.

  “Stay where you are!” he shouted to Marissa. He pointed to one of the bodyguards on set. “Watch her!” In the case this was a careful distraction, he wanted Marissa protected.

  Jack raced in the direction of the noise. A brunette stumbled toward him, her hand over her cheek. One of the models. Her long brown hair was hanging over her face as she hunched over, screaming.

  Jack rushed to her. He had to calm her and assess the problem. She was wailing. He knelt next to her. His knee twitched, reminding him of his injury and the mistakes of the past. Focusing on the screaming woman, he ignored it.

  “Call for an ambulance,” he yelled to another model standing close and watching slack-jawed.

  He sensed Marissa next to him. “What happened?” She extended a first aid kit to him.

  He hadn’t figured that out. He moved the screaming woman’s hands away from her face. The wailing has stopped, but she was whimpering. He didn’t see an injury. Bruise? Broken bone?

  “You need to tell me where you are hurt,” Jack said. He repeated himself three times before the woman was composed enough to speak.

  “I went outside for a smoke. A man grabbed me!”

  “Are you injured?” Jack asked.

  She touched her face again. “I hit my face on the doorjamb when I ran.”

  Jack opened the first aid kit and withdrew a cold pack. He broke it and set it over her face. She started crying again. Jack suspected she was more scared than hurt.

  “I screamed and kicked and they let me go. He said I was the wrong one.”

  Fear twisted in Jack’s stomach. He exchanged glances with Marissa. The wrong one, a kidnappin
g gone awry. Jack formed a hypothesis from the few facts. The would-be kidnappers had been targeting Marissa. With the brown hair and at a certain angle, the two models had similar appearances. Having realized their mistake, the kidnappers had let this woman go.

  “Do you remember anything about them?” Jack asked.

  The woman moved the cold pack from her face. “Their van. It was black with a sliding side door.”

  “What about the men themselves?” Jack asked. He was hesitant to use the word kidnappers out loud, afraid it would set her off again.

  The model narrowed her eyes in thought and brought her hands to her head. “I can’t remember. It happened so fast. They grabbed me and I started screaming. Then they threw me against the building and raced away.”

  A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived on scene. Jack took a step back to allow them to do their assessment.

  Marissa was upset, too. Her mouth was pinched and her eyes narrowed in thought. Jack led Marissa away.

  “You know they were after me, right?” she asked.

  “I had the same thought,” Jack said.

  “If it had been me out there, they would have kidnapped or killed me.”

  It was his fear that was their plan. “It’s a persistent mission, but they are sloppy. And they wouldn’t have kidnapped you or harmed you because I would have been there. Right there.”

  Marissa wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. He considered the inappropriateness of touching her this way and what it meant about their relationship, but the need to comfort her outweighed it.

  Chapter 10

  Jack couldn’t postpone returning to Washington, DC, to testify about the incident with Bianca any further. He wasn’t eager to spell out his mistakes and review the circumstances leading to his being shot, but he didn’t have a choice.

  Marissa was in the kitchenette of the hotel, leaning against the countertop, bottle of water in one hand and her phone in the other.

  She looked up when he entered the room. She had been in the hotel’s VIP gym for the two hours before while Jack had guarded the room and made his travel plans. He hated to leave her under the difficult circumstances, but he had arranged for the best in the business to fill in.

  “Your sister and Griffin are flying in tomorrow. They’re planning to stay with you for the next couple of days.”

  Marissa looked at him. “You’re leaving?”

  “I have something I need to take care of. Two days max.” He didn’t want to elaborate. It was a mess and that it had happened at all embarrassed him. He considered himself a better operative; he should see betrayal coming.

  Marissa set her water bottle on the granite countertop. “You’ve been working around the clock for weeks. Are you burned out?”

  He wasn’t interested in a vacation. “I’m not taking a break.”

  Marissa stared at him. “Don’t make me drag it out of you. What’s going on?”

  He had known she wouldn’t let this go. It was one of the reasons he had delayed telling her about it. “I have a work-related issue to resolve.”

  Marissa moved closer to him. She set her hands on his upper arm. “Tell me what’s bothering you so I don’t worry.”

  She was hard to resist. He wanted to wave it off, but that felt like a lie. “I was involved in an incident a few months ago.”

  “An incident that’s the reason you were injured?”

  She was intuitive. He liked that about her. “That’s the one. My partner was involved. Was the reason for it.” He hadn’t meant to tell her that much.

  “Are you meeting with your partner?” Marissa asked.

  “I’m testifying against her.”

  “A court appearance,” Marissa said.

  “Not a court issue.” What Bianca had done was beyond the American court system. She was a traitor to the flag and in his field, there was no worse crime. Given how much she had been trusted and how many people she had hurt, she wasn’t getting a trial. She would be spending the rest of her life in a secret government-run prison for traitors and spies. His testimony was to complete the classified documentation on the matter.

  Marissa inclined her head, her long ponytail swinging to the side. “Tell me about it. I know you can’t tell me everything. But tell me how you’re feeling. Tell me what’s most upsetting to you.”

  Jack needed to be careful to confide only parts of the story that didn’t involve classified information. “I was undercover for over a year on a job.” He checked each word as it left his mouth. Going over the incident too many times, it came easily to him. “She was my partner. My friend. I trusted her. She decided she didn’t want to work with me anymore. She sold me out.” Bianca had fallen in love with the head of the criminal group they were supposed to be taking down. She had gotten too close to François. She had spent time alone with him. Jack had questioned her about her behavior and she had claimed to be fine. She had said that her relationship with François was aboveboard and she was simply playing a part.

  Jack didn’t know when Bianca had crossed the line, but she had lied for months. She had blown their cover and then allowed Jack to walk into a trap. He almost didn’t get out. “She was recently captured by the United States government,” Jack said. He didn’t know the details of the operation, only that when François and his network were taken down, Bianca was apprehended and extradited to the United States.

  “You’re planning to face her?” Marissa asked.

  He didn’t know if he would have to look Bianca in the eye or if his testimony would be recorded. “If I need to.”

  Her brows furrowed with concern. “Let me come with you for support.”

  That wasn’t their arrangement. She wasn’t supposed to support him. He was watching out for her. “That’s not necessary.” The tightening in his gut indicated he wanted her with him and that surprised him. He had been alone for as long as he could recall. His last serious relationship had ended years before. His preference was to be by himself. Yet Marisa’s offer stirred him. Saying no was his impulse, while his true desire was to answer with a firm yes.

  “I know you can handle it alone. I want to be there for you. I want to be a friend when you might need one. If it’s bad, you’ll want a drinking buddy after.”

  “We’re not going anywhere glamorous,” Jack said. To the capital where his lawyer from the West Company would meet him and walk him through his testimony.

  “I don’t need glamour. I need a bed and a shower and food and I’m set. I can’t go home. A hotel is a hotel. A change of scenery will be therapeutic.”

  “I’d like it if you came.” The admission was hard to speak. It disclosed a weakness and Jack had built his career around his strengths.

  She kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much. I’ll pack. And thank you for letting me in just a little.”

  He had let her in more than a little and it scared him a great deal.

  * * *

  Jack had experienced a range of emotions in the months since he had been shot. It had taken time to accept what Bianca had done. Anger, guilt and depression had been his constant companions through his physical therapy. He had been to countless meetings, responded to hundreds of questions and had written about the incident several times.

  Going over the events didn’t make them easier to understand. He wanted to find that one moment in time when he could have seen what Bianca was doing and persuaded her to make a better decision.

  He would watch someone he loved and cared about be taken to jail. Worst still, he had a hand in putting her there. Despite what she had done, he wasn’t happy about it.

  He and Marissa drove from New York to DC. Traffic was heavy on I-95, but her company made the miles roll by. Marissa was helping more than he would have believed. Her being beside him was a new dynami
c and he was surprised at how comforting he found her presence.

  “You won’t be allowed to be part of the proceeding, but my boss is aware of our situation and will make sure you’re safe while I testify,” Jack said.

  “I’m here for you. Don’t worry about me. I brought my e-reader and computer. I have thousands of unread emails and ten years’ worth of unread books,” Marissa said.

  Jack reached across the car’s console and grabbed her hand. “Thank you for coming with me. This is unexpected and it means a lot to me.”

  Her smile bowled him over. “You should expect more from your friends.”

  Is that what they were? Friends? “It’s better to have low expectations.” As a great example, Bianca, whom he had trusted and cared for, had betrayed him. He should have anticipated it.

  “Do you have family coming to meet you?” Marissa asked.

  “I’m not from Washington, DC,” he said.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Born in Idaho. Grew up in Springfield, Missouri.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed,” Marissa said.

  He had worked to ditch his accent. It was too noticeable and as a special operative, he put a high value on every scrap of information about himself. “I try not to advertise too much about my life.”

  “Why?”

  For a woman who was in the public eye every day, he understood her confusion. “I’m a private person.”

  “What did your family do in Missouri?” she asked.

  “Farmers,” Jack said. “Corn and soybeans. My mom kept turkeys for a while, but they were more trouble than they were worth.”

  “Does your family still live in Missouri?” she asked.

  “Nope. My dad died ten years ago and my mother the year after that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marissa said.

  “It’s okay. I’ve been leasing my quarter of the land to my brother and two sisters. One day, I plan to retire in Springfield.”

  “You want to be a farmer?” Marissa asked.