Until You (The Redemption, #1)(29)

“Will do.”

“So, I’m intrigued, Crew. I want to know more about what interests you about personal protection. Why that avenue? And more so, why do you seem so hesitant to talk about it?”

I stare at her, at this woman who has gently walked into my life and has made me want to answer questions I usually hide from.

And by hide, I mean not talk about it yet to many people because I’m not one to talk until I’m ready to act. When I say I’m going to do something, I damn well will be doing it.

My mom, two sisters, late father, and Justin. Those are the only people who know about this pipe dream of mine. These are the people I trust the most. My support system. The ones who will do anything to help me succeed.

I always knew this, but Brittney leaving me only served to reinforce that. They were the ones who listened to my late-night ramblings when the pain, loneliness, and despair became too much to bear. They were the ones who commiserated with me when I’m sure they had much more important things to do. They were the ones who took the girls for a bit so they wouldn’t see their father at his worst.

My tribe.

And now, for some reason, I’ve just let Tenny in too. I’m so comfortable with her that I seem to have let her in without really thinking about it.

“Why this field? Because my sister tried her hand in Hollywood and became the someone she wanted to be, only to end up being stalked to the point that it paralyzed her from enjoying everything she’d worked so hard to have.”

“That’s horrible.” Tenny’s eyes widen. “My God.”

I nod, thinking of the eldest of my two sisters and her shining star that almost burned out because of the man who terrorized her every move. The helplessness I felt as I tried to watch and bond and enjoy every moment with my two newborn babies while crisscrossing the country to sleep on Vivian’s couch to try and help ease her fear somehow. Coordinating off-duty cops and security personnel to provide a constant cocoon around her to give her some semblance of safety.

“Eventually his obsession pushed him to act, get caught, and land him in prison. While it eased Viv’s day-to-day fear, it still affected her long term.”

“How could it not? I can only . . .” She just shakes her head in a way that has me looking closer at her. What isn’t she saying? “And how is she now?” Another redirection.

“She’s good. She has a recurring role on a sitcom. She’s become an advocate for victims’ rights. She’s now a mom.” I think of my nephew and smile. “The whole process taught me that there isn’t much the police can do until someone physically acts and that there is nothing like the fear of having another person hunt you down.”

She stares at me. Her lips opening and closing in a way that gives me pause. I’ve seen that flash of fear in someone’s eyes before. My sister’s. And I suddenly have a feeling that Tennyson’s continual avoidance of questions about her life, uprooting herself and moving herself here, has a lot more to do with that flash of panic than it does wanting a simple change of scenery and a slower pace of life.

Between Viv’s situation and my on-the-job experience, I’ve learned that someone who exhibits these reactions—their inherent need for peace—doesn’t like being prodded. Prodding can make them pull away further. And honestly, sometimes it’s safer not to prod.

Fuck.

Here she is asking about me, wanting to know more about me. And here I am debating how to ask about her, to show her I’m interested and want to know her better, all while struggling over if the innocent questions will make her uncomfortable by putting her on the spot. By prodding.

“And so that led you to wanting to be a bodyguard?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Not me personally, no. God, that would be a disaster,” I say and chuckle to cover my own shortfall.

Who wants a bodyguard who hesitates?

I shove the ghosts from my mind and force a smile to hide the tinge of pain from what used to be my dream. How can someone trust you with their life if you don’t even trust yourself anymore?

“I tried it once. Vivian’s friend needed help because her own personal security had gotten sick. I was in town, so I helped out.” I shake my head. “Watching paint dry is more exciting, and that’s coming from a man who has sat for hours on end in a car on a stakeout.”

“I can imagine. So what aspect of it are you interested in then? Managing it all? More of a macro level type thing?”

“Exactly. I’d be present in my girls’ lives while still allowing myself to keep my foot in the game, so to speak. I have the connections through Viv and the people I met when I helped her. And I’m thinking more along the lines of an agency that specializes in being called in when there are specific threats—such as a stalker. Not the day-to-day sit outside of a house type of thing. Because of my background and my experience coaching her through it all, I know the red tape and how to get under it if a problem arises.”

Tenny angles her head to the side and studies me. “It makes perfect sense to me. You’ve spent your whole life protecting and serving. Leaving it behind would be hard, so this would allow you to keep your foot in the world, while at the same time trying your hand at something new.”

It’s weird to actually talk about it more than just in passing with Justin or while talking what-ifs over a beer after our shift.