Defiance (The Protectors #9)(15)

It was torture to be out of the know. I wouldn’t label myself a control freak, but I definitely liked knowing what was happening around me. I wasn’t someone who easily “turned off” at the end of the day. I was hoping that quality would serve me well in D.C., but right now it was basically torture.

So the fact that I’d fallen asleep while so much shit was happening that I had absolutely no control over was practically a miracle in itself.

As Vincent entered the main part of the room, I carefully took the gun off my lap and placed it on the nightstand. I’d never been a fan of guns, even though my father had taken me and Brody hunting often enough. I’d been twelve when I’d made my first kill. We’d been going hunting with my father a lot longer than that, but I’d been purposely missing my shots for all that time. I’d finally broken down and killed a young buck after my father had railed at me and Brody for being sissies. He’d been particularly hard on Brody because my brother had cried when my father had handed him a rifle and told him we were going hunting for the first time. Brody had always been the softer-hearted of the two of us. Even when we’d gone fishing whenever we spent the summer at my maternal grandfather’s cabin in northern Minnesota, Brody had insisted that we use artificial bait instead of real worms, and we’d always thrown back whatever we’d caught. As much as I’d hated killing that deer, I’d needed to protect Brody from our father’s cruelty more.

So I’d pulled the trigger.

My father had slapped my back with pride and then he’d told me to finish off the poor creature with a kill shot. I’d done it, and I’d suffered through every second of him sharing the story with the guy we’d taken the deer to so that its body could be processed for meat…and, of course, the actual trophy…its head.

As soon as I’d gotten home that night, I’d gone to the bathroom and thrown up. Then I’d climbed into the shower and cried until my brother had found me and helped me out. He’d crawled into bed with me and held me while I’d sobbed uncontrollably.

Then he’d thanked me.

Because he’d known what I’d done.

It had always been that way with me and Brody. Us watching out for each other.

Until the night I’d stopped having his back when I’d realized I couldn’t protect him from what was to come. I’d let my fear and uncertainty take over at that point, and I’d driven Brody away.

I was jolted from my thoughts by Vincent’s close proximity to me as he removed the gun from the nightstand. His eyes landed on me briefly, but he didn’t say anything. He looked pissed.

Though I had no idea how I could have pissed him off by just sitting there.

I watched as he went to his bag and rifled through it. I saw him take out a small cylinder of some kind, along with a roll of string. He went to the door and stuck the container to the doorframe. I had to assume it had some kind of adhesive on it that kept it mounted to the door. He tied a piece of string around a ring on the end of the cylinder and then attached the other piece of the string to the doorknob.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Homemade security system.”

“What do you mean?”

Vincent glanced over his shoulder at me and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. He was a good-looking guy. I wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but I knew he was in better shape than a lot of men his age. His muscles along his back rippled every time he moved and his tanned skin still had a sheen of moisture on it. My belly was fluttering and I felt an uncomfortable tightening in my pants. I willed it away, but unlike all the other times, this time my head was not so successful in overruling my body.

It’s not real…it’s the stress, I assured myself.

“This is a stun grenade. You’ve probably heard it called a flash bomb. Police use it for crowd control, and for when they’re storming a house or building where there’s an armed suspect inside.”

“I’ve seen those on TV. They emit a loud sound, right?”

Vincent nodded. “Light, too. They disorient a person long enough for the police to take them down.”

“So if someone opens the door...”

“I’ll have the time to disarm them and put them down.”

“Won’t it disorient you, too?” I asked.

He sent me a smirk over his shoulder and I felt that flutter in my belly turn into a full-on parade of butterflies.

“I’ll be expecting it,” he said. “An intruder won’t. And since all I need is a few seconds of the advantage…”

He let the statement hang and stepped back to check his work. “Needless to say, if you decide to make a run for it, let me know first. Not like I’m going to stop you.”

I ground my teeth at that.

“Those guys must be good friends,” I muttered.

“What guys?”

“Beck’s father and uncle.”

Vincent was silent for a moment before saying, “They understand loyalty.”

It wasn’t the words themselves, but the way he said them that made me feel like he was definitely taking a dig at me. Which made no sense, because he didn’t know the first thing about me.

“Is it just me or all politicians?” I asked as Vincent moved to the opposite side of the bed…the side closer to the door.