Today was the first step in ensuring that.  With Nash’s video, we’ve bought some time.  Gavin is taking care of the lower level threats and sending a very effective, if dangerous, message.  Next up is taking care of the big guns and making sure that no one ever has reason to come after Olivia again, unless they’re willing to risk severe consequences.

I’m still hoping the second ad I placed, the second ace up Dad’s sleeve, might give me something else to work with.  If not, I’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got until I can come up with a plan.  Now that Olivia’s safe, I ought to be able to concentrate a little more effectively.

Just thinking of her draws my eye back to the passenger seat where she’s resting peacefully beside me.  I reach out to touch her hand, but pull my fingers back before they can graze her skin.  I don’t want to wake her up.

But damn, I want to touch her!

It feels almost like a compulsion, to touch her and make sure she’s really with me and that she’s really safe.  And that’s ridiculous, too.

Good God! I’m gonna wake up with ovaries if this shit doesn’t stop!

The thing is, I don’t know how to stop it.  I’ve never wanted to feel this way about a female. And even now, I’m not sure I do.  But I’m also not sure I have a choice. It’s almost like Olivia’s cast some sort of spell on me.  And I don’t like feeling this way—this helpless, this invested, this…emotional.  I don’t ever want to lose myself in a woman.

Ever.

With my teeth clenched in determination, I keep my eyes facing forward. On the road.  Not on Olivia.

********

Olivia is sleeping soundly in my bed when Gavin returns almost two hours later. We go out to talk in the office where we won’t disturb her.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s been sleeping. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

“We all are, mate.  You especially.  You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Gav.  I can always count on you to say things that help me in no way whatsoever.”

His grin is the same caliber as any other day—carefree.  It’s his ability to cope with the things he’s done (and still does occasionally) that makes him so good at his job.  He sees the world as black and white, good and bad, live or die.  He’s a good guy.  Really, he is.  It’s just that he doesn’t tolerate criminals very well, even though that’s how every law enforcement agency in the entire world would label him.  I mean, I’m not going to sugar coat it.  Gavin is a former mercenary, a hired gun.  A killer.  It’s just that he’s a killer with a conscience.  And God help your soul if you happen to step on it the wrong way.

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em,” he says, laying on thick his best impression of a southern accent.

“How’d it go?  Any problems?”

He flops down in chair behind the desk, rests one ankle on his knee and laces his fingers behind his head.  “No.  Two to the head of each.  The message ought to be pretty clear.”

I nod. I don’t really know what to say.  What he did for me, for us, for Olivia was more than I could ever have asked him to do.  And yet, he did it anyway.  He was there when I needed him, without question, without reservation.  Gavin’s probably one of the only people in the world I can fully trust.  As of right now, we’ve been through too much together to be anything less than brothers.  “Thanks, man.  I can’t tell you… I just…”

“I know, mate.  I know,” he says soberly.  He clears his throat then changes the subject.  “I called the mother.”

“What?”

“I had to.  Her daughter went missing. In her car.  I had to tell her Olivia was in danger in order to get her to tell me where she went and what she was driving.”

“Oh my God,” I say, dragging a hand over my face.  “What did she say?”

“At first I don’t think she believed me.  That lady’s a piece of work. I think she thinks all men are controlling and she tries to turn Olivia against anyone she brings home.  Or at least that’s the impression I got.”

“Maybe it was just you. Ever think of that?”

“Are you kidding me? With this face?  Mothers love me.  And I mean really love me,” he says with a wicked grin.  And I’m sure he’s right.  By most anyone’s standards, Gavin is a good-looking guy.  Add to that his charm and his accent, and the ladies go wild.  But I could care less as long as it’s not Olivia going wild over him.

“What’d you tell her?”

“I told her Olivia was safe and that the Escalade had been dumped under the bridge.”

“Great! Now she’ll go straight to the cops.”

“No, I told her that’s the worst thing she could do, that it would only draw the attention of these people toward her.  Trust me, she doesn’t want that. And I think she understands that.  She’s got a lot of selfish bitch in her.  She probably wouldn’t have listened to me if I hadn’t put it to her that way.”

“Well, as long as she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“You’ll just have to…reiterate the importance of leaving the cops out.”

“I won’t be reiterating anything.  Why would I need to call her after you did? I’ve never even met the woman.”

“You don’t need to call her.  She’ll be here to check on Olivia tonight.  After she gets everything straightened out with her SUV.”

“She’s coming here?”  My voice is unnaturally high in my shock.

Gavin grins.  “Damn, did someone just punch you in the nuts?  What was that?” 

“Not yet, but if what Olivia says about that woman is accurate, she’ll probably be grabbing herself a fistful while she’s here.  And not in the way you were talking about.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that woman touching anything below your waist.  Ever.  For any reason.  That Sheila could make a man’s body parts shrivel up and fall off.  Hypothermia.”

“And she’s coming here.”  Not that I’d ever really wanted to meet Olivia’s mother, but I figured if it ever had to be done, it would be in circumstances much better than these.  “Shit.”

“Any word from Nash yet?”

“No, but he should be—”

“Coming in the door right now,” Nash says as he pushes the office door wider and steps inside.    “I see you got the princess back in one piece.”

I grit my teeth and ignore his comment.  I thought we’d come to a sort of agreement to be civil, but it looks like that didn’t last very long.  I wonder to myself when it was, exactly, that my brother became such a douche.  “Did you get Marissa to her dad’s all right?”

“Yeah.  But let me tell you, that is gonna be one messed up female.”

“Why?  What happened?”

“I left her in the back seat until I got her to her dad’s place.  She didn’t say much on the ride.  She might’ve passed out or something.  I don’t know, but when I untied her and took her blindfold off and she saw me, I think it pushed her over the edge, man.  She just started crying and threw her arms around my neck.  I felt kinda bad for her.  I guess once she recovers from being scared shitless, she’ll be cursing the day she ever met you.”




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