Page 12 of Lone Star Country Protector
Once again, time was the enemy.
After tapping his thumb on the notification and then verifying his identity with the facial recognition software, the long update filled the screen. His sister, Jules, was at the hospital.
According to the message, Grandpa Lor—short for Grandpa Lorenzo—had coded—again!—but was now in stable condition. A fresh wave of guilt for not being in the hospital at Grandpa Lor’s side struck like a prize fighter, cracking ribs in the center of Dalton’s chest.
A quick mental calculation weighing how miserable hewould be if he took immediate leave, leaving Blakely to fend for herself should her attacker return, versus how miserable he was currently by not being at the hospital, added perspective.
Who did Blakely have to protect her?
A quick thought that she could possibly move in with her sister temporarily until law enforcement could be certain she’d be safe whipped through his mind like a breeze on a spring morning. Leaving her wasn’t an option. Bethany and her husband had had a fight. Marriage could be hard. Apparently, so difficult that a woman could leave her children less than a year after giving birth to her third. And then the loss of a wife could break a man to the point he died.
Was that being fair about his parents’ situation? Who the hell knew. No one ever talked about his parents. Or, to his knowledge, ever tried to reach out to his mother for her side of the story.Anyone who could walk out on three young children without looking back already made her statement.
Fair point.
Dalton shoved the thought deep down inside, into the darkest reaches of his soul, before responding to the text.Do you need me to come?
Those tiny three dots indicating someone else was typing hit the screen.
Not now. Will keep you posted. K?
He typed a response that he would wait until called. Besides, he was up next once this assignment was over.
For now, he would leave the situation with his grandparents alone and deal with his own heavy heart.
K.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement to the left. For a split second, he thought about this being a decoy. However, the initial attack was alone. Signs pointed to the perp being someone who had a grudge against Blakely, an individual. It wasn’t likely he would have someone in the wings.
The moment of hesitation shoved aside, Dalton pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster and headed south in the direction of the stirring. Winds kicked up, causing him to question what he saw. Could have been leaves or a piece of debris floating past a tree trunk. Was he chasing thin air?
The snap of branches in the darkness said he was on the right track. Something was out here. What? A stray dog? Could be a coyote. Raccoons were nuisances out here, as were skunks. The last thing he needed was to be sprayed, causing him to stink to high heaven. Bobcats were a danger in these parts despite being in the city.
With the stealth and precision of movement of a jaguar, Dalton made it to the tree line and back fence of Blakely’s small property in less than a minute. Whatever had been in her yard—and he was now certain some living creature had been here—was gone. Giving chase meant moving farther away from the residence.
On balance, it was a risk he couldn’t take tonight. Not in the dark. Not when the perp might have visited this site multiple times when planning an attack. Rather than continue, he doubled back instead, pulse racing not from exertion but from stress and fear that he’d left the door open for the perp to attack once again.
The fear wasn’t rational. But then, fear never was. He knew, on some level, that he hadn’t gone far enough for the perp to double back, beat him to the house, break in and still catch Blakely off guard.
Besides, the perp had learned another point tonight. Blakely knew how to defend herself. She might have taken a few hard scrapes and will wake with a sore body and bruises tomorrow, but she’d fought the guy off. She’d escaped.
Would he use a different method now?
A long-distance shot? The thought of her sitting next to the window—a sitting duck—pushed his legs a little faster. By the time he reached the back door, he was breathing hard and his thighs burned.
As suspected, he saw her sitting at the table near the window as he neared the home. At the back door, he quickly entered and then relocked the door behind him.
“You might want to close those blinds,” he said as he joined Blakely and her twin.
A look of panic crossed Blakely’s features as her skin momentarily paled. “I close those and someone could be standing on the other side without my knowledge.” She straightened her back and shoulders, giving her a royal bearing that shouldn’t form the wordprincessin his mind. She had an elegant beauty to her when her chin came up in defiance of whatever or whomever stalked her.
Could Dalton keep her safe?
* * *
Blakely had knownDalton was heading outside to walk the perimeter. She didn’t want to cause unnecessary panic. Bethany had drained her wine glass and asked for a refill while explaining that marriages go through ups and downs. However, her eyes told a different story. Bethany might be able to convince others that she wasn’t concerned about her relationship, but Blakely could read her sister like the back of her hand. They might not share exact DNA, but they’d lived in the same womb together, and it was clear that her sister had concerns about her husband. Bethany was holding back.
Chase hadn’t mentioned anything or seemed different in any way, which was a good sign that he had no idea what was really going on at home. At his age and with his innocence, he would likely blurt out any secrets. Which only proved he didn’t know any.
