The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(57)

Frustrated, she kicked the wall with her bare foot, at once wishing she hadn’t.

“Fuck!” she yelled out in pain.

She leaned her back against the wall, letting herself slide slowly to the floor as she gave vent to her emotions. But she was too angry to cry. Besides, she had to think. She had to stay focused.

Clay had assured her that her father had had nothing to do with the wiping of the servers. He’d told her, almost reflexively, that the CID men must have been there to protect the place. But that was just speculation, wasn’t it? One of Clay’s greatest qualities was that he was loyal. It was why he’d agonized about keeping their relationship secret from the Secret Service and her father. But what if his loyalty now was causing him to trust her father when he shouldn’t?

The expression on her father’s face, his disapproval of Drain, came back to her. SkyCU’s servers had been well protected, according to Noah. It had taken someone with high-level resources to do what had been done.

Maybe the resources of the US military.

Somebody somewhere had to fear for their life.

But why would her father fear for his life?

She sat with that a moment. Then she laughed and shook her head. Clay was right. She was being paranoid. The attack at the hotel, coupled with the loss of her passion project, had her emotions stretched way too thin.

Speaking of Clay, she had promised herself she wouldn’t contact him unless it was an emergency, and as much as this whole thing upset her, it wasn’t an emergency. Still, she’d hoped he would have at least sent her a quick text to let her know how he was doing, and to check in.

Her anger flared again. She was pretty sure that whatever her father had tasked Clay with was related to what had happened in San Francisco and Palo Alto. But why was it up to Clay when there were undoubtedly plenty of others her father could have assigned to the task? And didn’t she deserve to know where her fiancé was and what he was risking his life for?

She glanced at her watch. Her father was scheduled to return to Fort Worth in less than an hour. Impulsively, she sent him a quick text asking him to stop by the house. Then her thoughts switched again to Clay, and her mood darkened. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she suddenly grew very worried.





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE


Cape Town, South Africa

The taxi driver reacted to White’s voice and accelerated too quickly. He pulled out from the curb in front of the hotel without looking or signaling and almost nicked the rear bumper of the car parked in front of him. The taxi had barely left its parking spot when the Range Rover slammed into its driver’s side panel with the solid crash bar mounted on its front, trapping the cab between the Range Rover and another parked taxi. White heard metal creak as the impact threw him off his seat, his head cracking hard against the window. Slightly dazed, he tried to open the door, but it banged against the parked taxi. Having no idea this wasn’t accidental, the cab driver had gotten angry and was yelling obscenities at the Range Rover’s driver.

White was trapped. On his left was the Range Rover, and on his right was the parked taxi.

Damn it!

Behind the Range Rover, another SUV screeched to a halt. Men jumped out of the vehicle just as White realized the taxi had a sunroof. Thankful for the warm weather and the fact that the driver had left it open, White exited the vehicle through the sunroof amid the loud objections of the driver. He jumped from the roof of the taxi to its front hood, followed by a quick step onto the parked taxi’s bumper. White jumped off the parked car and landed on the sidewalk, not wasting any time looking behind him to see how many men were after him.

A small group of tourists had gathered at the base of the steps leading to the hotel and were blocking White’s direct escape path. White sprinted through them, accidentally shoving two young men aside, their unfolded tourist map flapping in the air as one of them fell backward.

He didn’t see the hotel doorman until it was too late. Homing in on him like a torpedo, the burly man tackled him. The doorman’s shoulders smashed into White’s exposed rib cage, knocking him off his feet and sending both of them rolling into the street. The doorman was the first to stop his momentum and scrambled to his feet. He came at White and telegraphed a right hook. White dodged to the side and buried his fist almost to the wrist into the doorman’s stomach. The man doubled over and fell face first into the street, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

White dashed across the street and ran between two passing cars. Vehicles honked and swerved as their drivers performed last-second maneuvers to avoid running him over.

He had no time to think. No time to assess what had just happened. He ran. But in the back of his mind, there was a little voice that refused to go quiet.

Someone betrayed you, the voice said as White’s feet continued to pound the pavement. Shouts coming from behind told him the men chasing him were also being slowed by the pedestrians.

White took the fact that he hadn’t been shot in the back as good news. Clearly, someone wanted him alive. Glancing behind him, he saw five men running. Two of them made a hard left into a side street, probably in an attempt to cut him off farther down. There was nothing for White to do but run like hell. He had to slip away, but this wasn’t a city he knew. He’d studied the area around his hotel prior to his arrival, but it remained unfamiliar to him, especially now that darkness had fallen.