“It gives your father time to find the leak. Once he sends an all clear we can leave or go to a level two—a house with a communication system and nearby contingencies.”
I immediately thought about his cabin that had burned down. Contingencies must have meant a plan B, like this one.
“Are you sure we’ll be safe wherever this safe house is?”
“Yes. It’s the first thing we prepare when we’re assigned to a protection job.”
Job. There was that word again. It stung. It implied a certain level of obligation versus free will.
“You had all this,” I waved my hand toward the truck and apocalyptic stockpiles, “planned in two weeks? You must have a big team.” I’d only been at college for a week, so I assumed he’d had this all ready to go before he started his “assignment.”
“We never use teams; I’m the only one I know I can trust. Adding other people into the equation only increases the risk of information leaking into the wrong hands. Besides,” he grunted and landed another heavy box in the trunk, “it only took three days. We’ve got a system. I took a week off before starting. Knew I’d need the rest—my last assignment was a rough one.”
Made me start to wonder where he’d been these last months after he’d disappeared from my life. “So who was the lucky woman?”
“Lucky woman?” He breathed heavily and rested a hand on top of the next box.
“Yeah. The lucky woman who got to play bodyguard with you after you left without a trace from my life. Did you almost try to screw her against a tree, too?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Dakota, you really are a child.”
“Child? Child! I’m being hunted here. My father is Austin Powers without the bad teeth, and the guy I spent months trying to forget just showed up in my life, only to tell me that protecting me is nothing more than a chore he gets paid for. Yet…” I swept my hands over my body. “Here I am. No cracks in my fucking armor, Mr. 007. I’m here, ready to fight for my life, taking the shitty hand you just dealt me and making the best of it! All the while, having my feelings stomped on. So please!” I poked his hard chest. “Please tell me how I am the one acting like a goddamned child?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”
“No. You shouldn’t have. Because from where I’m sitting, the only difference between you and me is that I haven’t had my Spy Kids training.” I poked him again. “Yet,” I added. Because I’d be signing up for the first class I could get my hands on.
Paolo was about to say something, but to his credit he shut his trap.
I loaded my freezing body into the passenger seat and shut the door.
Paolo continued loading duffel bags into the large space in the back of the Suburban, and I just had to wonder where the hell he was taking me. I hoped it would be an isolated town in Alaska where a new passport awaited me along with a new life, new heart, and new…bodyguard!
After ten more minutes, he shut the hatch and got into the driver’s seat. He gripped the steering wheel and stared at the garage door for several moments. The turmoil undulating just beneath his steady facade was palpable. “Dakota, I don’t expect you to understand. Or believe me. But I broke the rules once.” He gripped tighter. “I wasn’t the one who paid the price. When I lost her, I lost everything.”
Another piece of the puzzle slid into place, and I’d almost wished he hadn’t told me. Yes, it now explained why he’d acted so strange around me, but it broke my heart to hear something so tragic. And all along, I’d been getting in his face about his boundaries, which now made me feel horrible. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…know,” I murmured.
“How could you?”
“I should have guessed,” I replied. Only people with serious baggage acted that neurotic. His behavior—hot and cold, angry and caring—screamed inner turmoil. He must have cared for her deeply. “So she died while you were protecting her?”
He didn’t flinch. “Yes. And I had feelings for her, but not like I have for you.”
Ouch. “I understand. I would never…expect that from anyone,” I mumbled.
“You misunderstood. What I feel about you is…” He bumped his fist on the steering wheel. “Fuck, Dakota. Don’t ask me to repeat my mistakes. Because,” he looked at me with a sharp, soul-piercing gaze, “I couldn’t handle losing you. Not you.” He looked ahead and opened the garage door. “I won’t watch you die.”
There was nothing to say to that, other than…“All right.”
He nodded, and we drove off into the night, our fates awaiting us.
~ ~ ~
The place Paolo was taking me, I learned, was special for one reason: It was a house that couldn’t be tied to him, me, or anyone. It belonged to a real estate firm that rented homes to executives from abroad. Payment flowed through various companies—a phony company’s overseas bank account tied to an alias, through a relocation company that farmed out the actual relo work to a third company, etc. I didn’t quite get why it was untraceable, but I gathered the rental had gone through so many parties that it put a healthy distance between us and anyone looking for us.