Bodyguard by Melanie Shawn

56

Gage

Every musclein my body was tensed and ready for action. Hell, every cell.

Barlowe and I had ultimately settled on the middle of a little-trafficked bridge outside of town as the spot for the exchange. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t the first dirty deal that had gone down on that bridge, because of all of the tactical advantages it provided.

It was in the middle of nowhere, so no security cameras. Also, because of its relatively remote location, the police weren’t going to be doing an unexpected random drive-by.

Lastly, because of the restricted geography inherent in the lone strip of asphalt that comprised the bridge, it would be almost impossible for either side to stage an ambush.

Of course, Barlowe had started off by demanding the exchange go down at his warehouse.

Yeah, right. That was never going to fucking happen.

I’d suggested a very public courtyard. Just so that nobody could get ideas.

We’d settled on the bridge.

The truth was, I hadn’t really wanted the public courtyard any more than Barlowe had ever thought his warehouse was a viable possibility. We’d probably both wanted the bridge to begin with.

But that was how those sorts of negotiations went. We both knew the other party couldn’t agree to the first proposal. We both had to reject something, to save face. It was a dominance thing.

It might be fucked, but it was a dance we all knew the steps to, so we followed the choreography.

I sat in the driver’s seat of one cargo van, Savannah in the passenger seat. The kid was in the back, along with six of Bear’s and my colleagues who’d been available for a favor on short notice.

Bear was at the wheel of another cargo van, ten more of our friends in there.

We’d called in every favor we could. Hopefully things would go smoothly and none of these guys would be necessary. But we obviously couldn’t count on that.

The one thing I felt pretty good about was the relative disparity in skill level, judging by the jokers Barlowe had sent to follow my parents to the cabin.

Of course, we couldn’t count on the fact that those three were representative of the entire organization, but it wasn’t a bad bet. And the idea that Barlowe had staffed up in the past three days after his lackeys’ grisly failure…well, that just wasn’t how these guys operated. It wasn’t how they thought.

He might be pissed at me for besting him. He might even be pissed at the dead guys for letting me get the drop on him. But he would never view it as an organizational failure. His ego would never allow that.

And Bear and I had called in the best of the best from our contacts. Guys we had been in tight situations with. We’d saved their asses before, and they’d saved ours.

And these were highly skilled individuals. Former SWAT team leaders, former members of elite military units. Not anyone you’d want to fuck with.

Barlowe’s guys were flies. Ours were the flyswatters.

Even still. Rule number one. Never let your guard down. Overconfidence kills. I was poised and ready to strike.

The only problem was that Barlowe wasn’t here yet.

He wasn’t very late. Only ten minutes so far.

It was likely just a dick power move. To show that he was the one in charge, and set our nerves on edge.

I wasn’t worried about anything more than that. There was certainly nothing dramatic like explosives on the bridge piling, the whole thing rigged to go down at the press of a button. As soon as we’d formed the team, we’d sent two of the best guys out to ensure that nothing like that was in place, and keep watch to see if any of Barlowe’s guys did show up during the day to try to cause trouble.

No one had.

I could tell that Savannah was getting antsy, though. She was fidgeting in her seat, gnawing on her lip.

I wanted to talk to her, to calm her, but now wasn’t the time. I needed to keep my head in the game, and so did the six guys in the back. A heart to heart with Savannah would only be a distraction.

“We’ve got movement,” came Bear’s voice, scratchy over the frequency of the walkie-talkie.

Because of the angle his van was stopped at, he could see the headlights rounding the bend up ahead a second or two before Savannah and I could.

She let out a huge sigh of relief, but there was still a tension in her shoulders that I knew wouldn’t disappear until she saw her father again, alive and well.

Hell, the tension in my shoulders wasn’t going anywhere until I got the two of them out of here, safe and sound, with an agreement in place with Barlowe that he’d stop coming after them.

Three dark-colored sedans pulled to a stop facing us. Barlowe and his men piled out. I paid attention to their body language, to where their weapons were placed, to where their eyes darted.

I felt a small measure of relief. These were not professionally trained operatives. They were “tough guys.” Who, in the face of actual tough guys, would turn out not to be so tough.

Obviously, I had no intention of abandoning my personal credo of never letting my guard down. But I felt a little better.

One of Barlowe’s men pulled open the back door of the middle sedan and roughly dragged a figure out.

My eyes widened when I recognized him—which hadn’t happened immediately. It was Savannah’s father, all right, but he looked like a frail old man.

“Oh my God,” Savannah groaned. “What did they do to him?”

It was true, he looked worse for wear. His skin was sallow, his cheeks sunken. He had a cut on his lip that hadn’t healed, and a bruise above his right eye.

I wrapped her forearm in my hand to steady her. The last thing I needed was for her to get fired up and go rushing out of the van. No sudden movements. There was too much adrenaline on Barlowe’s side of the line, and that was a bad combination with ‘heavily armed.’

“Savannah,” I murmured urgently under my breath. “He’s alive. And if you want him to stay that way, you’ll let me take the lead.”

She dug her fingernails into her thighs. Maybe using the sensation to try to center herself. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you, Gage. You know I trust you. But…”

She trailed off, my gut clenched wondering what the ‘but’ would be.

“Bring my father back to me alive. Please, Gage. Whatever else happens. Bring him back alive.”

I nodded.

Fuck, I had no idea if that were going to be possible or not. But I didn’t feel like the nod was a lie. Because I was going to fulfil that promise, or die trying.