Page 59 of Nothing to Fear

Ferguson got out right around the same moment driver one exited his car too. The former set her in his sights, somehow immobilizing her.

“You need both of us?” Driver One called, she guessed to Darroch. “Tripp’s looking for a ride.”

“Tripp’s always looking for a ride,” Darroch said and raised his arms. “Go. Might as well. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Okay, so Mrs. Alice Breckenridge took discretion seriously.

“Miss Mayden,” Ferguson said, opening his palm. “Keys.”

“Right. Keys.”

She handed them over and quickly spun to hurry after him when he entered the building and went upstairs.

At work, his presence hadn’t been too conspicuous. When anyone asked a question or looked for too long, he said he worked for Benedict Breckenridge and that shut them up. Helped that he was nice enough not to stand too close to her. Yes, he was always in her field of vision, but he got the meaning of discretion too. And, as far as she knew, no one had seen her get in or out of his car. Until Darroch anyway.

“Wait here,” Ferguson said, unlocking her door.

Darroch came upon them. “What the hell is going on?”

Ferguson opened the front door and Darroch moved like he intended to follow.

The suited driver stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Stay.”

Darroch’s head dropped a couple of inches to the side. “Gus—”

“No. Stay.”

The guy went inside, swinging the door almost closed behind him.

“Wow, I didn’t think he’d talk to you like that,” she said.

“We don’t treat our people as the help,” Darroch said, his eyes widening as his head shook. “You want to fill me in on why you have your own Breckenridge bodyguard? Did something happen at work today?”

“No.”

“Ferguson is heavy duty. The best we’ve got when it comes to kicking ass, which means he’s reserved for imminent danger. Cherry—”

“Take it up with your mother.”

“My mo—I will.”

He fished a phone from his inner pocket and woke it. Before he could do more than that, she laid her hand on it. Shit, she hadn’t actually meant for him to…

“Don’t call her. I didn’t mean for you to—I told her not to call you. This is my fault.”

“Your fault?”

“I couldn’t argue in front of Buoy, could I? Not that I’d argue with your mother. Your parents are a freight train when it comes to looking after people.”

His brow descended. “Looking after people? Looking after you. That means you were in trouble, something bad happened. You better tell me what the hell that is before I take a trip to BHQ.”

“No, you shouldn’t… You know what? You should go home. My apartment’s a disaster, I don’t want you seeing it like that. I’ll be mortified. Your house is just, it’s like a palace, a perfect, pristine palace. We should reschedule or just forget it; maybe fate is telling us this is a bad idea. If you want to—”

The door swung open again.

“All clear,” Ferguson said, handing the keys back. “All lights are on and the phone line’s active. Any issues, there’s a panic button by the bed. Carry it at all times.”

“There’s really no need for—”

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