Page 48 of A SEAL's Protection
Allegra points at a fluffy cupcake in the cabinet, a small smile on her face as she speaks to the shop assistant. At least this means she wasn’t rejected for the reasons she thought. Her professor was on the take. She was never going to get the grant.
I hang up the call and put in another one to the sheriff I know in the area. “Marcus,” he answers on the first ring. “What can I do for you?”
I explain the situation. Calvin, or Badge as he’s known in his motorcycle club, is a veteran and the sheriff of Wild, which is the town on the other side of Wild Heart Mountain from Hope.
The Wild Riders MC has its operations there, and I’ve visited their headquarters more than once. They’re all veterans who like to ride and good guys. I like to know who I’ve got around me, in case of situations like this.
I explain the last few days as briefly as I can, leaving out who I’m working for and Allegra’s name.
It’s out of his jurisdiction, but he promises to speak to his counterpart in this county.
I make a mental note to extend my reach. It’s good to have a passing acquaintance with law enforcement in my surrounding area.
Allegra comes out of the bakery as I finish the call. She holds out a brown bag to me, and inside is an oat bar.
“I guessed you’d prefer it to a cupcake.”
Which is what she’s got. With pink frosted icing and sprinkles. She bites into it, and her eyes close as she lets out a small moan.
With that little sound, I’m transported back to the forest and her body moving under mine as my lips press against her soft skin.
We haven’t spoken about last night. I get the sense that she doesn’t want to. Neither of us wants to break the spell. If we talk about it, we have to face reality. The reality is that she lives five states away, and I don’t know where I’m going to be six months from now.
There’s a pang in my chest, and I rub it as I watch Allegra finish her cupcake. She smiles thinly, and I’d give anything to make her laugh right now.
“You should call your father.”
She pulls her pack towards her and retrieves her phone.
“Hey Dad.” Her voice is raw but steady. “I got my samples. But I’m going to need your help.”
Her voice grows stronger as she talks. For the first time, she tells her dad exactly what she’s got in her sample case.
“I’m going to need your media contacts. It’s dangerous to sit on this any longer.”
She glances up at me, and the steely determination is back in her eyes. “Meet us in Hope and bring the media.”
Her back straightens, and her eyes find mine. Something unleashes in my chest. Her fight isn’t over yet.
22
ALLEGRA
Ihear the thrum of rotor blades before I hear the helicopter. Marcus led me a mile out of town to a field that’s away from the curious gaze of the townsfolk.
We had to wait around to speak to the local authorities. But Marcus must have pulled some military strings, because instead of hauling him in to question him about why there’s a man with a bullet hole tied up on the track and a body at the bottom of a ravine, they took notes, checked his map, and called him sir. He commanded the situation with military efficiency that was miles away from the man I held in my arms last night.
A moment later, the helicopter is visible coming over the trees. The grass around us bends as it sets down in the middle of the field.
“Keep your head low,” Marcus instructs.
The side door is thrown open as we run, half-crouched, towards it.
A large man wearing a headset and dark glasses reaches for my backpack. I hesitate and shoot a glance at Marcus.
“It’s alright,” he yells over the sound of the chopper. “You can trust Hudson.”
Reluctantly, I hand over my backpack. “Be careful with that one,” Marcus shouts to his friend, and I don’t know if he means the pack or me.
