Then, Dani had found the jacket.
I was full of fury. At myself. At the team. How the hell had Fiona slipped through? Even though I was cussing us all out in my head, I also knew this hadn’t been a presidential gathering. There hadn’t been background checks done. There hadn’t been an extra set of metal detectors placed at the door of the VIP lounge in addition to the ones people had passed through to get into the stadium.
In many ways, I wasn’t sure the situation could be controlled. There were too many gaps that, without a boatload of more resources, couldn’t be fixed. Which had me wanting to convince Dani to drop what she was doing and run. There wasn’t shame in retreating. There were times when you had to be smart enough to know you’d been outmaneuvered, outmanned, and out-strategized.
The police asked a whole host of questions about Fiona, the previous attack in Miami, and the night’s events. A CSI tech collected evidence, and then we were finally able to roll. We moved in a bounding overwatch formation out of the lounge, down to the first floor, and then into the tunnel at the end of which the SUVs waited. The only reason we had the bulletproof Range Rovers was because Alice, Brady’s road manager, and I had gone several rounds about the vehicles, the booked hotels, and the scheduled venues.
After I’d personally cleared the SUV and the area, I led first Dani and then Brady into the car before getting in myself. Our driver hit the gas, and we headed back to the hotel, the others taking the remaining vehicles.
As we drove through the streets of Jacksonville, Dani stared out the window in silence as she processed the entire night. I wanted to ask her if she was okay. I wanted to reassure her I wouldn’t let anyone harm her, but I knew it was a lie. If someone really had it out for her, they would find a way. I was living proof of it. I was a sniper. I got in where no one thought it was possible. It was my job.
I was pretty sure this Fiona woman wasn’t military trained, but I also knew insane could out-trump prepared almost any day of the week.
The only way Dani would truly be safe was if she left the tour, and I knew that wasn’t going to happen. She’d already told me she wouldn’t quit. How could I fault that? I wouldn’t quit either. It wasn’t in my makeup. But after everything that had happened in D.C., Dani would be even more determined to prove she wouldn’t back down.
When we reached the hotel, we waited for the full team to reassemble. Marco and Trevor cleared the lobby and the elevator, and we staggered our move from the SUV to the elevators. Brady, Lee, and the two men I’d nicknamed the super twins went first, taking Brady up to the penthouse where we’d left a man on watch while we’d been at the venue. After the first wave cleared, I left the SUV, shielding Dani as we entered the hotel.
Tanner had waited in the lobby, and he’d already pushed the elevator button as we approached. It dinged open, and Dani and I entered. When Tanner started to get in as well, I put a hand up. “Make sure the lobby is clear before you come up.”
He hated me telling him what to do, and he was stupid enough to let it reflect on his face. Our eyes remained locked together until the doors slid shut.
I turned my attention to Dani and found her pulling stuff from her bag that went flying everywhere. Her hands were trembling, and as the elevator started to move, she steadied herself against the wall, closing her eyes.
I touched her arm. “Dani?”
She jumped and then looked at me with wild eyes. “I just need my earbuds. I can’t find them.”
“Hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” I said softly and went to pull her into my arms, but as soon as my arms went around her, she slapped at me, hitting my chest.
“Get off.” She shoved at me with a violence that was unnatural.
She was trembling from head to toe, and all I wanted to do was hold her, but I didn’t dare touch her again as she went through a range of emotions I didn’t understand. The elevator dinged open, and she flew out, leaving half the shit from her bag on the elevator floor. I put a foot in the door to stop it from shutting, scooped up her belongings, and took off down the hall after her.
She’d stopped at her room with her forehead against the door, eyes closed. She was trying to get a hold of herself, breathing in and out in long breaths.
“I’m sorry,” she said without looking at me.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s been a hard night.”
She shook her head without removing it from where it rested. “It wasn’t that. I mean, it was, but it was more what happened combined with the elevator.”
It hit me like a wave of bricks. I was a fucking moron. The asshole, Fenway, had attacked her in an elevator. Her nerves, which were already fried from the incident at the arena, had gone off the charts when stuck in an elevator with my dumb ass who’d backed her into the corner and then tried to hold her.
“I was so dumb,” she said quietly.
I made a sound of protest, but she cut me off.
“I was. I was stupid and full of ego and pride. That night at The Oriental, I knew Russell wouldn’t be at the rooftop bar, because we never met there. But I was in denial about him not showing up, even after my texts and calls went unanswered. So, when I left the bar and got to the elevator, that was all I was thinking. How dare he
