Page 50 of Defending You
Asher’s pulse ticked up, every sound amplified—the rumble of the truck, the whir of the tires on asphalt, which shifted to something else. By the high-pitched, irregular pings off the bottom of the pickup, he guessed they were on a gravel or dirt road. They inched forward, and the engine cut off.
A door opened and slammed, the sound sharp in the stillness.
Then, silence. No traffic, no voices, just an eerie void that pressed against his ears. His body coiled, his Glock aimed at the tailgate.
Behind him, Cici’s breath was shallow. She could feel it, too.
Something was wrong.
A loud click, and the tailgate suddenly dropped, but nobody stood there. Fresh, cool air filled the stifling space.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The man’s voice was calm and steady.
Asher wasn’t sure about that, but he tucked his weapon beneath his T-shirt, the barrel cool against his skin. If necessary, he could fire through the material.
He prayed it wouldn’t come to that.
A man peeked, barely in sight long enough for Asher to get a read on him. Tall, short brown hair, forties. He was out of sight again when he said, “You two comfortable back there?”
“Cozy as a coffin,” Asher said. “Though we need a candle for ambiance.”
The man chuckled. “I’ve got backup on speed dial.” He didn’t sound amused now. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you promise the same?”
“Yes, sir.” Thesirfelt right. By the way the guy spoke, he was accustomed to being in charge.
“It wasn’t so much a shift when we turned off the highway, but the lack thereof. I didn’t secure the lumber well enough, and it moved around a lot on our way to Mass. Knew something wasn’t right.” The owner of the truck must’ve pressed a button because the cover whirred above, moving back slowly.
Asher sat up straight and inhaled the cool air, reveling in the breeze against his sweat-dampened skin. They were in a forest, surrounded by tall pines rising to the blue sky.
Behind him, Cici said, “That’s much better. Thank you.”
The man stood to the side. Though Asher couldn’t see a weapon from his vantage point, he assumed one was there.
Asher noted the way he held himself—shoulders back, weight balanced. Like a cop. This guy’s instincts were sharp, dangerously so.
“You two running from the law?” His question was casual, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another. Asher doubted that.
“Not…exactly.” Asher hated lying, but he didn’t know this guy. Still, something about him felt… trustworthy. “We’ve been on the run.” He recited the short version of events, leaving out the stolen car and burning barn. “People are trying to kill us. We just needed a way out.”
The man’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not one of those people out to hurt you, so you can holster that gun.”
Asher’s pulse skipped. He hadn’t shown the Glock, but this guy knew it was there. “You first.”
The man moved in front of the tailgate and held his arm out to his side, a gun dangled from it, proving Asher’s instincts correct.
Asher stowed his, moving carefully.
The man tucked his own away, his eyes flicking past him to Cici. “You okay back there?”
“Yes, sir.” Cici’s voice was steady despite the tension in the air. “Asher’s my bodyguard.”
“That story he just told… All that true?”
“Unfortunately.”
Asher met his gaze. “I’m Asher Rhodes. I’m with GBPA out of Boston. I’m going to get my credentials.” With slow and deliberate movement, he managed to shove his hand in his back pocket and pull out his wallet. From there, he extracted a business card. “Call them. Check me out.”
The man took the card. “Wait there.” He pocketed the card, then tapped on his cell. A moment later, he lifted it to his ear.
