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“Don’t leave me!”
Every muscle that had been ready to spring to action hardened. Jonathan turned back to Kate. She wasn’t crying, but the way her beautiful dark eyes reached out to him let him know that she was close.
“Please, stay with me.”
It was in that moment that he knew there was no other place he wanted to be.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “I promise.”
Sirens could be heard in the distance. The crying and yelling still sounded around them. For the first time since the car had nearly run them down, he realized the silver case hadn’t left Kate’s side.
She’d kept it with her through it all. What was in it?
And why was it worth killing for?
Be on the Lookout: Bodyguard
Tyler Anne Snell
TYLER ANNE SNELL genuinely loves all genres of the written word. However, she’s realized that she loves books filled with sexual tension and mysteries a little more than the rest. Her stories have a good dose of both. Tyler lives in Florida with her same-named husband and their mini “lions.” When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s playing video games and working on her blog, Almost There. To follow her shenanigans, visit www.tylerannesnell.com.
This book is for Virginia Spears.
You’re a beautiful, brilliant, hilarious sunflower. I hope we grow old together and can still make fun of all the silly things we did when we were younger. You’re one of the best humans I know and, for that, you deserve much more than a dedication in a book. However, that’s all I’m working with for now, so I hope this will do, you exotic, sparkling unicorn, you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
He wouldn’t tell anyone this, but the fight almost ended much differently.
The punch that landed squarely against his jaw almost knocked him out. Pain, bright and bold, exploded along the bone as the blow connected. It made him stagger to the side, and for a moment he struggled with fighting the urge to cradle the pain and seek refuge.
Or pass out. Blackness fringed the edges of his vision.
But Jonathan Carmichael wasn’t that easy to take down.
He dropped low into a crouch and swung his leg around. His attacker wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way. His legs were swept out from under him and he hit the ground hard. The wheeze of someone who had lost their breath escaped from his lips.
Jonathan wasn’t where he needed to be physically—the punch really had done a number on him—but he knew the hired thug wasn’t just going to lie down and take it. Plus, he still had someone to protect.
Out of his periphery, Jonathan saw the door behind him and to the left was still closed. Fleetingly, he wondered if Martin actually locked the door like he had been told.
“You—gonna—gonna pay,” the thug started to wheeze out, but Jonathan didn’t have time for a speech. He turned on his heel and leveled the man with his own knockout punch. The muscle-clad baddie didn’t wage an internal war of whether or not he was going to slip into unconsciousness. Or, if he did, he didn’t win the battle.
His head clunked against the hardwood while the rest of his body relaxed.
“I’m gonna have a tall beer tonight,” Jonathan said, tenderly touching his chin. He winced. “That’s what I’m gonna do, all right.”
He nudged the guy’s foot with his work boot before feeling comfortable enough to walk back to the door his client was behind. Trying the doorknob, he cursed beneath his breath.
“Martin, I told you to lock this.”
His client, an older man who was five feet three inches of scatterbrain, didn’t offer an apology for not listening to his bodyguard. Instead his eyes widened at Jonathan’s appearance.
“You’re bleeding,” Martin exclaimed. He pointed to his eyebrow and then his lip.
“Don’t worry,” he hedged, temporarily forgetting he had other injuries. “It’s the jaw that hurts the worst.”
“And the bad man?” Martin didn’t try to see out into the other room. To him the hired gun was his own personal hell. An evil man who had threatened him, stalked him and attacked him. All in an attempt to exact revenge for sending his boss to prison. Jonathan remembered when the man had come into Orion Security Group’s front doors begging for protection, for a bodyguard to keep him safe. The police hadn’t believed he was being targeted, but Jonathan’s boss had.
A call Jonathan was grateful for and so was Martin.
“He won’t hurt you anymore.”
Martin’s entire body sagged in relief.
“Thank you, son. Thank you.”
Jonathan nodded, ignoring how