Bare It All

There was that. But who was he? “You said he hired on as a bodyguard?”

“Only undercover as one.” She chewed her bottom lip, and more tears tracked down her cheeks. Impatiently, she used the back of her hand to swipe them away. “I’d been such a coward, worse than useless to all the injustice. But he gave me hope. And then he gave me freedom.”

Leaning in close to her, his voice barely above a whisper, Reese said, “I’d like to thank him.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t.”

Unacceptable, yet how could he push it right now with her shaking uncontrollably, waiting, he knew, for criticism and censure?

More than his insistence on legality, she needed reassurance. Reese was more than happy to give it to her. “I think you’re the bravest woman I know, Alice. Not many would be able to survive what you did and come out of it so caring and sweet.”

She choked on disbelief. “I’m not sweet.”

Using two fingers, Reese lifted her chin and kissed the tears from her cheeks. “Yes, you are. Sweet and wonderful, and I don’t ever want you to forget it.”

She searched his face and must have seen the sincerity there. On a small sob, she launched herself against him, squeezing him as tight as a slight, sad woman could.

Alerted by her cry, Cash lifted his head. Reese reached back with one hand and soothed the dog. “It’s okay, boy. She’s okay.” He pressed his mouth to her temple. “Aren’t you, Alice?”

“Yes.” She nodded hard, gave him another squeeze then sat up to speak to Cash. “I’m fine, baby. Go back to sleep.”

After watching her a second more, Cash gave Reese a quick glance and dropped back to the couch with a loud doggy sigh. At least Cash trusted him.

Now to work on Alice. “How did it all end, honey? Can you tell me that?”

“Yes.” This time she used both hands to wipe her cheeks. A little more composed, she explained, “It was during an arranged meeting. Murray made me go along. I think he’d caught on to...the new bodyguard.”

Which would have put everyone at risk. “He’d been nice to you?”

“Yes. Maybe that’s why Murray decided to kill everyone. Instead...” She hesitated, exhaled out a shaky breath. “All the bad guys died.”

All the bad guys? “What happened to the wraith?”

“He had backup.”

Someone in the police force? Could it have been a sting? “How do you know that?”

“We were at the loading docks in an old crumbling warehouse. A truckload of women had arrived early, but when Murray ordered the driver to come open the trailer, he didn’t answer. He was...dead. Belfort, the buyer, panicked, and everything seemed to happen at once. He thought Murray had double-crossed him, and Murray thought the same of Belfort. Shots were fired from a distance, and Dugo, who’d come along with the buyer to protect him, got hit in the chest. He died. Belfort was badly wounded—I don’t know if he lived or not, but I know he didn’t get away. The women were all rescued. And Murray...”

Reese waited.

Voice fading, she focused her gaze somewhere in the past. “Murray died, and good riddance.”

For a time, Reese just held her, keeping her close, reassuring himself that she had survived and that nothing that awful would ever happen to her again.

He kissed her forehead, her ear and cheek, hoping she’d understand that nothing had changed with her truths.

After some time had passed, Alice eased back to see him. She searched his gaze. “Are you disgusted with me?”

“I’m proud of you.” And heartbroken, and enraged on her behalf.

Disbelief had her leaning away.

Reese touched her precious face, the corner of her mouth. “Anything else?”

It took her a minute to speak. “The police came, but we were already headed out of there. He gave me cab fare and a number to call if I had any trouble.” She knew what Reese would ask before he finished formulating the question. “The number was for a limited time. It doesn’t work anymore.”

Disappointing, but that would have been a long shot, anyway. “Where did you go?”

“Home to my family. That’s where he said I should go.”

“He told you not to tell anyone about him?”

“No.” Looking at his collarbone, Alice drew her small, cool hand along his chest. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Even at the worst of times, Alice seemed preoccupied with his body. Reese liked that. He more than liked her. Teasing her, he touched her chin and whispered, “Up here, honey.”

On a sigh, she lifted her gaze to his. “It was my decision to censor the story. There wasn’t much I could tell, anyway. I knew him only undercover with an alias. And he was long gone. Telling any of that to the police would only have confounded them, and it would have kept me with an open file. Instead, I told them the deal had gone bad, and everyone started shooting.”

“Close to the truth.”

“Yes. Close enough that they had what they needed from me.”

Reese considered the plausibility of that. Any good cop would be able to tell the difference between shots fired at close range and shots from a sniper. But maybe they wrote that off as a cohort, either of the buyer or the seller, who got away.

“What was his alias?”

“Why does it matter?”

Because she still wasn’t telling him everything. Did she hope to protect her savior because she thought Reese would go after him—which he might, if for no other reason than to get more answers—or because she still, to this day, had contact with the guy?