Page 12 of Billionaire Bodyguard

“What do you think?” she asked. “Should I plan on meeting somenice, hot guysat these galas Marigold wants me to go to?”

Fuck, no.

Booker snorted, confirming he knew how I felt.

Fury burning in my chest, my hand fisted where it lay beside my glass of water. If she’d wanted to make me jealous, she’d hit pay dirt. And we’d both be sorry for it tonight. I’d kept myself in check for four years, and apparently, tonight was the point when my dominant side, which hadn’t existed like this before the TBI, was saying fuck it. I wanted her…and I wanted Linzey all to myself.

“If you think for one second—”

Loud pops sounded across the throbbing music and stalled my words in my throat. Gunfire! Adrenaline surging, I dove, pulling Booker down as I took Linzey to the floor, knowing he’d bring Marigold with him. His guards were on him in a moment, getting him to cover while more shots rang out, screams joining the cacophony of noise.

My only concern was Linzey, and I cursed myself for not surveying our space better for escape routes and coverage. Keeping low behind the inadequate shield of the half-wall, I clocked the space again.

The only exit let out into the main club, accessed by a doorway to one side or going over the partition. Not happening. People were freaking out and continual shots were fired through the artificially fogged air. Someone had hit the lights, plunging the club into near pitch-black. I couldn’t see the crowd, yet the bodies from the last fire-fight I’d been caught in filled my mind’s eye.

Struggling to stay present, I dragged Linzey toward the back wall and dialed 9-1-1 as we moved. Even through the darkness, I spied the shadow of the C-shaped lounge along the back of the room.

Earlier, I’d noticed there looked like just enough space to crawl behind it. It had bothered me then, but my guys had told me they’d cleared it. Now, it could be a safe haven, rendering us invisible in the darkness. Or we could be sitting ducks. I hoped for the former rather than the latter. It was our best hope. I just had to get Linzey there.

“Find the lights,” someone yelled, the voice distinctly American. Not European. Not men from the Coval sect. I’d known they weren’t. This wasn’t their style. It still drove home a point. Danger always surrounded us.

“Where are the fucking lights?” another man bellowed.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” a woman lilted over the connection on my cell.

“Active shooting atBradford’s,” I hissed, keeping my voice low.“Send help. There are at least two gunmen. There’s got to be over a hundred people here—and a fucking prince. Prince Booker is here.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! This would be a goddamn international incident if anything happened to Booker. Hell, it could turn into a scandal if anyone found out he was in the middle of this. I just had to trust my guys were keeping him safe. I couldn’t see where they’d gone, and that was probably good.

“Hurry,” I demanded.

The operator might have said something, but I didn’t dare keep my phone out since the illumination would reveal our location. I shoved it away, keeping the line open, while I hustled Linzey the final few feet to cover.

I pushed her to crawl into the small space I’d dragged us toward. It was a squeeze for me, but I wedged my shoulders through the opening after her and followed toward the corner where it got wider and we could huddle together.

I pulled her into my arms as soon as the area widened, curling my body around her to shield her from any bullet that might come through the seating.

“Shh,” I murmured into her ear as she heaved silent sobs into my chest, her fingers clutching my shirt. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

“Where’s Marigold? Booker?”

“I don’t know. Their bodyguards are with them. I can’t text them, so I don’t alert anyone to their location.”

She nodded into my chest, her arms slid around my waist, squeezing tight while she burrowed into me. I cupped my hand around the back of her head, keeping her there. My lips pressed into her hair. I breathed her in as I prayed for her safety, my ears pricked for any sound that would alert me to danger closing in. The gunfire had slowed, but hadn’t stopped.

How much fucking ammunition had they brought? Jesus.

Linzey jerked with every barrage that started, her body shaking while she cried at the horror. I knew it would be a million times worse if Coval’s cell found us and attacked.

Within minutes, though it seemed like hours, the pandemonium escalated as the NYPD converged on the scene. I didn’t move. I wouldn’t emerge from this hidey-hole until I knew we were all clear. I couldn’t let anything happen to her, not again. Linzey wasn’t merely mine to protect. No…she was justmine, and if we got out of this, it was time I showed her.

Seven

Linzey

“Stay with me,” I begged Adler as he guided me into the penthouse, hours later.

I felt as if my heart was still beating ten times faster than it should be. Adler had held me the whole time we’d been hidden, but every moment, I’d been terrified that one of the shooters would find us, that something would happen to my sister or Booker or one of the bodyguards Adler employed. I knew many of them, and I couldn’t bear for any of the men to be hurt.

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