The Protected

the calls we get.”

“Sure.” Without looking at the other one, she turned around and started back down the sidewalk. They watched her for a few minutes.

She took the longer route on the way back to the little house she was calling home. She still needed to get a better look at the setup where Gus and Alex lived. Figure out the best way to keep an eye on things. Although she already had a decent idea how she’d do that. The tricky thing was going to be getting it all set up.

The little house was even smaller than hers. More run-down than most of them, although she could see signs where somebody, probably Gus, was working on things.

Hard to tell in the dark, of course. The windows bothered her. Windows and doors were the most vulnerable areas of a house. Where did the boy sleep? In a room of his own?

There were no lights—

Then one flashed on and she crossed the road. Casual. Jogging across the road, waiting for that prickle feeling between her shoulder blades that would let her know she was being watched.

It never came. But as she unlocked the door and slipped inside, her breathing was coming far too erratic and her heart beat in a harsh, unsteady rhythm against her ribs. Leaning against the door, she edged to the side and peered through the narrow window, watching as a shadow moved through the house across the street.

* * *

IT had been years since he’d slept well.

Too many years.

Usually the dreams that plagued him were full of screams, or broken cries. Desperate whispers and fears and blood and misery.

This time, though . . . well, there had been broken cries. Desperate whispers. And heat. So much of it. He’d been back in that house across the street, but this time, he’d been alone there with Vaughnne, and when she’d gone to tug her bra strap into place, he caught her hand and stopped her.

He could remember how soft her skin had felt in the dream. So very, very soft . . . it would feel like that in real life, he thought. But in the dream . . . yeah. Yeah, she’d been soft. And when he went to strip her shirt away, she’d just stood there, watching him, her eyes intent and quiet, a strange little Mona Lisa smile on that wicked, sexy mouth.

He’d tangled his hands in her hair and feasted on her mouth like it had been decades since he’d touched a woman. It had only been four years, but that was too long.

Before he had managed to get her completely naked and bury his aching dick inside her, the dream had shattered. Gus didn’t know what had woken him, but whatever it was, he was awake and he knew better than to lie in bed when his body was suddenly humming with tension.

A quick glance at the clock told him that he’d gotten two hours of sleep.

Not enough.

But it didn’t matter. He listened to the silence of the old house as he rolled silently out of the bed, his hand gripping the butt of his weapon. Back to the wall, he checked the hallway out of habit. His instincts said the house was empty, save for him and the boy. He didn’t trust them. Creeping down the hallway, he checked inside and saw that Alex was sleeping on his belly, face buried in a pillow.

Alex . . . Alex was asleep. That he would trust. Sighing, he sagged against the wall behind him and scrubbed a hand down his face while the adrenaline drained out of him.

Alex wouldn’t be asleep if there was any sort of threat within a hundred feet of the house. He was like a living, breathing danger meter.

“Gus?”

In the dim light, he could see Alex lift his head. Forcing himself to smile, he said, “Go to sleep, kid. It’s okay.”

Knowing the boy would sleep better if there were lights on while he was moving through the house, Gus flicked on the hallway light as he prowled around. He needed a drink, so before he did anything, he bypassed the kitchen and pulled down the bottle he kept stashed over the refrigerator. Tequila, cheap shit, but the only thing he could afford, straight, the burn of it heating his throat and then his belly as he moved through the house, checking it over once more.

Alex slept in the narrow little room he’d claimed for his own. It wasn’t intended for a bedroom, but neither of them worried about that. The cot in there wasn’t exactly what Gus wanted for him, but what Alex needed the most was to feel safe and he’d sleep better someplace closest to Gus, someplace where nobody could come in through the windows.

If they came in through the windows where Gus slept, they would have an unpleasant surprise, he thought. So very unpleasant.

Pausing by the open entryway, he watched as Alex rolled onto his side, hugging a pillow against him. You’re safe, Alex, Gus thought. And for as long as he breathed, Gus would do every damn thing he could to keep the boy safe.

Every damn thing. He’d make any sacrifice. Give up anything and everything. It didn’t matter what rivers he had to cross, what mountains he had to climb, what dragons he had to slay. The boy had lost enough. Gus’s job was to keep him from losing anything else.

Knowing the boy wouldn’t stay asleep if he remained there brooding, Gus took his tequila and slid outside to sit on the front porch.

Across the street, Vaughnne’s house was dark.

She’d be asleep, he thought. She’d been so tired with dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion in every line of her body when they left.

Stop thinking about her. He had no room in his life for that. Not for anything.

The only thing he had room for was the boy.

Alex was his focus, and that was the way it had to be.

THREE

THE cookies smelled too damned good.

Vaughnne helped herself to two of them as they cooled, and she knew if she didn’t get them out of there, she would eat more of them. Which meant she’d have to tack another mile onto her run when she hit the pavement later that day.

But with the scent of chocolate, both white and dark, filling the air, and her belly still demanding another cookie, she almost gave in.

If Gus didn’t leave the old lady’s house next door soon, she would give in.

It was turning into a bitch, keeping an eye on him. She’d set up exterior cameras over the past few nights, planted around his property, but not on it. He was too . . . cautious. Yeah, that was it. Jones still wasn’t having any luck turning up information on either of them, and that in itself was a puzzle, but the guy was so cautious. So watchful. He held himself in a way that normal people didn’t. Like he was ready to fight, ready to run, ready to react to any damn thing.

If she planted cameras on his property, she knew he’d find them in a heartbeat.

Still, around the perimeter, a few here and there, and they weren’t exactly watching him. They were watching for anybody that might be trying to get to him. A nice 360 view of the place. Ideally, she’d wanted one inside the house, but she was reconsidering that plan every time she saw him.

Tipping him off that somebody was watching him just wasn’t going to go over well.

Sighing, she checked the window again. The truck was still in front of the house, and nope, he still hadn’t left the house next door.

She’d been biding her time, watching the house at night and getting by on catnaps during the day because she couldn’t rest as heavily at night as she’d like to. She was on edge, sleeping with one eye open, and this was so not the ideal way to get all the way back up to full speed.