Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(67)

Brynn no longer felt uneasy. Now she was worried.

“Jeremy, you understand, right, that just because my firm hired your firm to provide security, that doesn’t mean I’m under house arrest here. You guys can’t force me to do anything.”

He nodded. “We can recommend. And we strongly recommend that you stay here today.”

“That doesn’t work for me. I have places to go and things to do today.”

Jeremy shook his head, and she could tell he regretted promising Erik anything.

“I know I’m going to regret this.” He sighed. “Where do you need to go?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“I’ll ask you again. Where is Erik?”





LIAM WOLFE’S compound looked different this time, and Brynn wasn’t sure why. Same almost invisible gate. Same towering trees. Same crack of rifle fire as they drove past the shooting range. Maybe she was different. Maybe the tumultuous events of the past week had changed something in her.

Brynn buzzed her window down and inhaled the warm, fresh air that smelled of pine. She reached out and let the wind race through her fingers. It felt good to be out here, even if the reason she’d come did not.

Jeremy drove past the big log cabin that housed Wolfe Sec headquarters and parked at the end of a row of trucks and SUVs. Brynn got out, looking around. No sign of Erik or the silver pickup he’d supposedly borrowed from Trent today.

Jeremy walked around the Tahoe. “I’ll find out where he is,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “Wait inside, if you like.”

She opted to stay outside. Her attention was drawn to a black wooden fence on the other side of a grassy knoll. She walked over, watching with interest as several men dressed in black fatigues played with a pair of German shepherds. The dogs wore matching black tactical vests and looked like they were trained to sniff out bombs.

Brynn leaned against the fence and watched the dogs leap around, grunting and snarling at their handlers. Judging from the playful banter back and forth, it was all a big game.

“Hi.”

She turned around, shocked to see Erik behind her.

“God, don’t sneak up on me.”

His eyebrows lifted.

Brynn looked him over. He wore the same gray T-shirt and jeans he’d had on last night, and she wondered if he’d come straight here after slipping out of her bed.

She crossed her arms and gazed up at him. She’d planned to give him crap about his exit, but now the concerned look on his face put a lump in her throat. He looked worried. Burdened. Was she too late? Had he already talked to Liam?

“I see you’ve met Gus and Gracie,” he said.

“Who?”

“Our dogs.”

“Oh.” She turned around. “Not exactly.”

A line of men in green military fatigues—trainees, she guessed—stood inside the corral now, eyeing the German shepherds warily. One guy wore what looked like a catcher’s uniform, complete with chest padding and a helmet. Keeping his gaze on the dogs, he walked into the center of the corral.

“What are they—”

“Watch.”

A sharp command, and the bigger dog raced across the corral, launching himself at the defenseless man. Brynn gave a startled gasp as the dog clamped onto the man’s arm, growling and fighting as he tried to pull away.

Another command, and the female dog raced into the fray. She leaped onto the man’s back and latched onto his shoulder. He struggled to shake her off, all the while trying to free his arm from the bigger dog’s jaws, but the animals held on. Brynn glanced at the spectators, amazed that no one rushed to intervene as the attack dragged on.

A loud whistle. Both dogs released their grip. They ran back to their handler and, after a brisk command, sat obediently at his side. The trainee bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Brynn rubbed her chest. Her heart was racing. And she was sweating, she realized, just from watching the drill.

“That’s terrifying,” she said.

“That’s the point.”

She looked at Erik. “Why?”

“Stress training. To counter your natural flight response when you’re under attack. You learn to control your reaction so you can stand your ground and fend off a threat.”

“You’ve done this? Stood there and let dogs attack you?”

He nodded. “Animals are better for this than people, because we instinctively know they can’t be controlled, so the danger feels real, and your limbic system kicks in—which is what you want. Enough drills with Gus and Gracie here, and your heart rate actually lowers during an attack so you’re able to think straight and maintain motor skills.” Erik looked at her. “Yesterday you said I was like a robot. That calm you saw? That’s a direct result of stress conditioning.”

She gazed up at him, at a loss for what to say. He’d been through so much training, so many life experiences she knew nothing about. She wanted to hear more. She wanted him to open up to her so she could see his world and truly understand it. But he wanted to shut her out.

Frustration welled up inside her, and she turned away.

“You look mad,” he said.

“Mad?” She choked out a laugh. “That doesn’t even begin to . . .” She shook her head. “I’m severely pissed that you took off without telling me and left instructions for Jeremy to keep me on lockdown.”