Rules of Protection(100)

“I was talking to your boys,” Hank said, nodding toward the five government men. “Not mine.”

The blood drained from Brockway’s face, and I knew he was a man backed into a corner. He didn’t like being challenged and was starting to unravel.

Unlike Jake, the rest of them believed me. I saw it in their faces. But it only made me question my lingering self-doubt. What if I was wrong? It’s not like it would be the first time. I couldn’t forgive myself if any of them got hurt again because of me. Especially if Brockway wasn’t the culprit.

Jake kept me safe all this time, and it was time for me to return the favor. It was like walking a plank above a man-eating shark, but I handed Jake the gun. I refused to leave him unarmed for what I was about to do.





Chapter Twenty-two

I stepped toward Brockway. “I have proof you helped Felts,” I said, deliberately misleading him, knowing the fear would push him over the edge. He’d be forced to react.

Director Brockway grabbed me forcefully around the neck, throwing my body off balance. He turned me around and pressed the cool metal of his gun against my temple. He blew on my back like a bull, the pressure of my words having thrown him off-kilter.

“Nobody move or I’ll kill her.”

Jake and the others turned their guns on Director Brockway, who shielded his body with mine. The other five agents decided the civilians were no longer the bigger threat and did the same.

“Let her go, Brockway!” Jake called out.

Brockway walked backward, taking us out of the bright lights and into the shadows toward the government vehicles. I didn’t think he’d kill me…at least not yet. He needed me alive to get away. But as soon as he got away, I’d become disposable. Physically and emotionally drained, the knowledge brought unexpected tears to my eyes. It was a terrifying, recurring nightmare.

Then something happened.

I closed my eyes and gasped a deep breath, feeling his presence before I smelled the warm, familiar minty scent. A strong sense of safety washed over me, wrapping me in a veil of comfort and peace. I opened my eyes as Junior came at Brockway, moving with lightning speed and brute force.

Junior slashed with the large buck knife, slicing away flesh from both of Brockway’s arms. It was the efficiency of a hunter. Brockway dropped the gun and released me at the same time. The enraged look on Junior’s face had shown how unstable he was in that moment. The fear that he’d kill Brockway to protect me held everyone else at bay. As if an invisible, impenetrable ring of fire circled us.

Brockway was on the ground, howling in pain and bleeding profusely from both arms. Junior held the large knife to his neck, daring him to move, looking for a reason to kill him. He wanted to. I could feel it. As if Junior’s thoughts and emotions flowed through me. I laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and his body relaxed. He released a calming breath.

Junior rose slowly, wiped the bloody knife on his jeans, and slid it into the leather sheath on his side. We traded glances. There were no words for what had just happened. Just heartache. No one had been there to stop him when he killed the man who’d murdered his daughter. Though I don’t think he regretted it, Junior wasn’t a man who’d snuff out another man’s life without it penetrating his soul.

He kissed my temple, squeezed my hand, and walked out into the pasture, blending into the shadows. I knew his keen hawk-eyes kept watch over me, though. He was a good man who fiercely protected the ones he loved. And I was fortunate to be loved by him.

The whole group swarmed me. Hank and the other boys hovered, making sure I was all right, while Jake picked up Brockway’s gun and shoved it into his waistband for safekeeping. After squeezing his way through and groping for me in the crowd, Jake pulled me out of Hank’s big bear arms and into his own.

The feds allowed the paramedics to load Director Brockway into the ambulance. They stood guard as the deep lacerations on his arms were treated and bandaged.

Jake didn’t say anything, but he stayed close. He kept one hand on his gun and both eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I thought it was a sign. He and I were nowhere near out of the woods.

…

At the hospital, I stayed with Hank as we waited for news on Floss and Jake. Floss had to have surgery to reset her anklebone with pins and screws. Jake had to have the bullet removed from his shoulder, though it hadn’t done any major damage. Director Brockway was having surgery as well.

I overheard one of the doctors question the nurse about the man who had cut Director Brockway. “Was he a surgeon?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, I was told he’s a hunter.”

“Of animals or people?” the doctor asked seriously. “The man who did this would’ve had extensive knowledge of where to slice through a human arm to incapacitate him and cause the most damage by severing the correct tendons. Even if we can repair the damage, the director may never be able to use his hands again.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Hank came over with a cup of coffee. “Hank, do you think Junior is dangerous?”

Hank chuckled at me. “Honey, I know Junior is dangerous. He did government contract work back when I was still in the FBI—”

“You were in the FBI?”

“I was Director of the Chicago Division, like Brockway,” Hank replied. “Jake’s father worked under me. It’s how we met. I passed the position on to him when I retired. He was a good man, like his son. I guess no one told you Jake’s not my nephew…not biologically, anyway.”