Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) (3 page)

Did she want to open the door of her life to him by meeting him at the shooting range?
What were his expectations?
Perhaps he’s just a nice guy offering to help a girl out.
She rolled her eyes at herself when she realized that was as ridiculous as thinking that having a ‘secret admirer’ was normal.

She pushed against the door and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped, and it was nearly dark. The fall nights came too early. She clicked the key fob, and the car chirped.

Mike saw the headlights flash and headed towards the silver Altima. “We should put this stuff in the trunk,” he said.

She clicked the trunk button on the fob and lifted the trunk door. Her trunk was organized. He liked that. A large, copy paper box filled with files, notebooks, and text books took up the center space of the trunk, while a sweatshirt was stuffed into the corner beside one of the brake lights.

“Here, let me get that,” she said, setting the gun and ammo in the trunk. She shoved the copy paper box aside to make room for the lockbox in the center.

Alisha checked out the muscles in his arms and back as he set the lockbox in the trunk.
Was he Dr. Doom or Captain America
?

Mike closed the trunk door and leaned against the car. He stared at the bright orange strip of sky along the western horizon while impending darkness crept towards them from the east. He didn’t want to push her, but he did want to keep her safe. He realized pressuring her wouldn’t help his case, so he did his best to sound encouraging without being overbearing. He wasn’t going to fail this time. This time the victim would survive. “I’m going to head over to Iron Sights,” he said. “It’s on highway 55.”

She liked the sound of his voice. The deep, gentle rumble set her at ease. He sounded confident and capable, and she appreciated that he wasn’t pressuring her. “Yeah, I know it. I’ve past it before,” she said, playing with the zipper toggle on her purse. Her brother practiced at that shooting range.

She still hadn’t decided whether to meet him there or not. She could definitely use the one-on-one instruction, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for one-on-one time alone with him. She knew nothing about him. She really didn’t need more drama in her life right now.

He gave her a crooked smile and dug his key fob out of his pocket. “I’m the black truck.” He pointed to the Titan parked two spaces down from her. “You can follow me if you like.” He gazed into her eyes. He liked the way compassion seemed to pour from them. He could easily get sucked under those blue waves. He’d seen so much tragedy in his life that he craved the innocence and peace so many enjoyed and took for granted.

“Sure,” she said, opening the car door. She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. “Thanks for your help with the safe,” she said, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Even though his face was weathered, she recognized goodness in his gaze. Her gut told her that he was a good guy.

“Of course,” Mike said with shrug. “Happy to help.” And he meant it. He couldn’t go back in time. He couldn’t change the past, but he could help prevent another innocent’s death. Saving people was a habit for him. It was encoded in his DNA. He wasn’t superman, but he did have certain talents that came in handy when lives were on the line.

She slid onto the seat and closed the door with a thud. She eyed him as he strode to his truck, and it chirped as he unlocked it. At the sound of the rumble of his engine, she rested her hands on her steering wheel and looked at the Young Guns store. She’d entered the store filled with concern, but she left it with determined self-reliance.

He’d kept his distance all day, watching her as she completed her tasks. Just being in her vicinity calmed him. He wasn’t surprised when she pulled into the strip mall. She came here often, at least once a week. Her favorite take-out was the honey-crispy chicken with white rice.

He eased his truck into a parking space in an adjacent parking lot and stared at her when she got out of the car.
Could she sense his presence?
His pulse raced when her eyes flit his way as she scanned her surroundings. Anxiety coiled in his gut when she entered Young Guns instead of the Chinese restaurant.

What did she go in there for?
As the minutes passed, the anxiety unraveled and rushed through his veins and tensed his muscles. He nervously popped a few Tic Tacs into his mouth and crunched them as he stared at the store, waiting for her to exit.

He cursed himself. He’d noticed the change in her: the dark rings under her hypnotizing blue eyes, her distraction, and worst of all, her bubbly personality was flattening, like soda that’s been left out too long. The soda still looked the same, but it left a yucky taste in your mouth. That was how her spirit had changed. Her beauty still shone through, but a dark cloud seemed to hang over her, obscuring her natural glow.

He tried to recall when this change in her started as he thought back on their courting period. She’d been so excited when she received the flowers that he sent. Her face had glowed with excitement, but as the days went by, she’d grown distracted. He’d feared she was sad because he hadn’t contacted her again, so he decided to cheer her up.

The following day he’d left a note of encouragement under her windshield wiper. He even spritzed the paper with his cologne, hoping the scent could be his ‘calling card’. The danger of that boldness thrilled him. What if she recognized him before he was ready for her? His plan could be destroyed, and he could lose her forever. But he left the scented note anyway.

Disappointment nearly overwhelmed him as he watched her read his love letter. He was confused by the expression on her face. Instead of the excitement that radiated off of her the day she carried the beautiful flowers to her car, her eyebrows pulled down in confusion as she looked around the school parking lot. He knew she wouldn’t see him. He watched her from the visitor parking lot, and he blended in with the other cars. His secret was safe, but his desire for her gained momentum. He wanted to cross the parking lot, wrap his arms around her and kiss the concern off her face, but that wasn’t on the agenda for that day. He’d made a schedule. He intended to keep it.

Saddened to see that she was disappointed with his note, he resolved to console her. Figuring that he’d gone over the top with the bouquet and that he’d set the wooing bar too high, he changed his strategy. He would give her a few days and then give her another gift.

When he could wait no longer to see her happiness, he left a little bag on her front porch. He’d spent a lot of time choosing the bag. The store had so many options, and he didn’t want to choose the wrong one. Alisha was used to nice things. She had refined taste and good manners, so the bag had to be just right. He’d finally settled on a pink leopard print bag with a fringe of black cord wrapped around the top. It was flirty and fun but not slutty, just like her.

During the night, when he knew she was asleep and even the neighbors wouldn’t see him, he’d set the bag on the porch. Then he sat in the dark, waiting for the sun to peek above the horizon and signal the beginning of her morning routine.

Nervous energy filled him when he saw the front door crack open for her morning walk. He’d chuckled when she almost tripped over the bag. Her dog, Forrest, barked at the bright pink bag and tried to stick his muzzle through the opening. She restrained the dog and picked up the bag. Standing with one foot in the house and one on the porch, she tossed the pink tissue paper inside the house and pulled out the chocolate caramels. They were her favorite, but instead of looking happy, her face took on an unusual appearance.

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and it killed him that he couldn’t ask her and let her know of his attraction for her. He needed more time. He planned on doing this the right way.

He’d decided to back off a little.
Was she taking him for granted?
Maybe a little time away from his adorations would empower him. He didn’t want to look too desperate. Ladies seem to want what they can’t have.

It nearly killed him, watching the dark bags under her eyes get bigger, but he held out. He waited a full week before he gave her the Beanie Boo. He’d never spent so much time staring at stuffed animals before. He’d stood at the Beanie Boo carousel in the store and felt overwhelmed by the options. He wanted to get her a cute stuffed animal that could bring her smiles and cheer her up when she had a rough day. But when he made his decision, a part of him was jealous of the big, blue-eyed husky plush.
He
wanted to hold Alisha in his arms, but for now he’d have to settle for her cuddling his stand-in. He could be patient. Their day would come.

He’d waited for the right time to deliver the big-eyed husky. It took days of observation, but he enjoyed each moment in her presence. Finally, one night as darkness overtook the murky grayness of dusk, she parked in the driveway and ran into the house without locking her car.
This
was his chance. The opportunity he’d been waiting for.

His pulse quickened with excitement at the potential for getting caught. He quickly crept along the shrubs that lined the house and eased open the driver-side door. Her perfume assaulted his senses. He caressed the seat. It was still warm from her heat. He hardened with desire. With one hand he placed his gift on the seat and rubbed himself through his pants with the other hand. He couldn’t wait for her hand to touch him there, to grip and tug on him.

When she called out to her dog, he eased the car door shut and prowled back into the darkness. He made it to safety just as she jogged down her porch steps. When she opened the door, her face said it all. Her eyes bugged at the sight of the stuffed animal. She clutched it to her face.
Did she recognize his cologne?
It didn’t matter. His gift had the effect he wanted. She skipped back into the house holding the husky to her chest.

That night he’d taken care of his needs nestled between the bushes in her backyard. His love roared through his body as he stared at her bedroom window. Knowing that she was sprawled out on her bed, her silky hair fanned out across the pillow, his release had been incredible.

Just thinking of the connection he had with her that night turned him hard again as he sat in the parking lot waiting for her to come out of Young Guns.

But tonight, as she went into the gun store, his heart twisted with anxiety.
Why would she need a gun? Didn’t she know that he would protect her with his life?
He banged his head on the steering wheel in frustration. He’d done so much to show her his love, but still she felt insecure. He wasn’t ready to declare himself to her, but he hated watching her suffer. He’d have to work on moving up the timeline. Something was troubling her, and he needed to step in and help. That’s what men did. Step in and help.

Mike looked in the rear-view mirror. He’d been trained to spot tails and knew how to evade them, but tonight he wanted to be followed.  She was two cars behind him. He’d been careful not to go through any yellows and lose her. She was so skittish that a simple thing like that could change her mind. At each intersection he kept his eyes locked on her, hoping she wouldn’t turn down another road. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and pushed the radio button.
Did every station have to have ads at the same time?

Nerves sizzled through Alisha. She kept hitting the radio buttons, but she couldn’t find a song that she liked. Sometimes the radio sucked. She should just use the app on her cell. That way she never had to wait for a song that she liked.
Why was she worried about music?
Her life was spiraling out of control. She saw boogie men behind every corner, and she didn’t know when it would stop. She only knew that it had to. She couldn’t live like this.

As she stared at the truck that loomed ahead of her, she hoped following this stranger would be beneficial. He seemed polite enough.
Maybe she should take a picture of his license plate and send it to Cara.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. That sounded like something her mother would’ve said.
Man, if she was turning into her mother, then paranoia would soon be eating her alive.

She felt so vulnerable, and she hated it. She clung to the possibility that if her very own personal pervert was following her that he’d be scared off by Mike.
That
was why she stayed on Mike’s trail. He looked scary enough, with his broad chest, hardened face, and muscular arms. She hoped her stalker wasn’t even scarier. 

Mike turned on his blinker. He was relieved when she pulled into the turning lane behind him. He pulled into Iron Sights and found two empty parking spaces beside each other.

Alisha pulled in next to Mike, glad he parked near a street light. The sky was losing the last of the setting sun’s colors. It would be dark by the time they left.

He stood at the bed of his truck, waiting for her. His gun was clipped on his hip, and he held ear protection muffs in his hand. “Glad you decided to come,” he said.

She liked the smile that he gave her. It made him look more approachable, a little less intimidating. “I figured since you didn’t run any yellows that you must really want a shooting partner,” she teased. That was all she was going to do with him tonight. Tease. There was no way she was going anywhere alone with him.

“Good thinking,” he said with a wink.

She popped opened the trunk and pulled out her gun and ammunition.

“We can load it inside,” he said. He held his hand out to carry the ammo for her.

“Okay.” She placed the box of ammo in his hand and walked quietly beside him. She wasn’t sure what to say, and he wasn’t exactly chatty, but she liked being in his presence. In an odd way, he made her feel safe.

As they walked towards the building, people called out to Mike and waved from a distance. Once inside, several men greeted him, and he introduced her to them. She was glad that people seemed to like him, even respect him. It made her feel safer, more comfortable. Usually she knew more about the men she wandered around with.

“I get the feeling that you come here often,” Alisha said, looking at him from the corner of her eyes as they walked.

He liked her eyes. It wasn’t just the color that made them beautiful. It was the kindness that he saw there. “At least once a week. Sometimes more. My friend owns this place.” He extended his hand towards the front desk. “We need to sign in. Then I’ll teach you how to use that thing.”

Alisha gave a light chuckle. “It’s that obvious that I need instruction?” she teased.

He nodded, “Just a little,” he held his fingers slightly apart and smiled.

After registering, Mike led her through the maze of the shooting range. She was surprised at how nice it was. There was a simple café to one side, small classrooms down one hallway, and a small showroom where shooting supplies could be purchased.

They turned down another hallway and came to a door. Mike pulled it open and held it for her. She stepped inside and was instantly impressed. The room was long and divided into numbered stalls. Hearing protection muffs hung on the wall beside the door, and the ‘bang’ of shots echoed around her.

Mike grabbed a pair of protective muffs from the wall and handed them to her. “You’re going to want these,” he said. Then he put on his own pair of muffs.

Alisha fit the muffs over her ears, and instantly the gunshots were muffled. He held up his fingers and said, “We’re number four.” He led the way to the fourth stall and placed his gun on the simple, make-shift table set up between the stall walls.

Excitement bubbled in Alisha. She’d gone shooting with her brother a few years ago, but she needed to practice if she wanted to actually hit her target. She laid her box of ammo and gun on the table and looked at Mike. He smiled at her; his lips curved ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was happy here. This was his element.

Mike walked her through the steps of loading her Glock. As she placed each bullet into the magazine, her confidence grew. This was all part of taking her life back. She wouldn’t be helpless if her stalker attacked her. Although she didn’t want to hurt anyone, she knew she could if she had to. Maybe if her stalker saw that she could defend herself, he would choose a different woman to obsess over. A part of her gut twisted on that idea. She didn’t want to sluff him off on someone else. She didn’t want another woman to go through this nightmare. She wanted him stopped.

Mike took a few shots, talking her through the shooting process. Then she picked up her gun. He molded her hands into the proper position and taught her how to stand. She tried to relax as she pulled the trigger, but the recoil and loud pop startled her the first time. Mike chuckled and helped her get back into position. He could tell that she was nervous and self-conscious when he stood too close, but as the night went on she grew more comfortable with him.

It was hard to talk as they shot. He focused on instructing her, and she focused on absorbing the power and confidence she felt with each shot. When they finished, he pressed a button and the target at the end of the lane zipped towards them.

She laughed when she saw how successful she was. There were more bullet holes in the white part of the paper than there should have been, but she still felt good. She’d managed to hit the black silhouette of the man the majority of the time. A few holes tore through his face, but his torso took the brunt of her inexperience.

Mike picked up his gun and turned to exit the stall. She placed her hand on his arm. His muscle twitched under her fingers, and he turned his gaze onto her. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Aren’t you going to shoot?”

He cracked a smile. “I did a few at the beginning. I’m good for now.” It was getting late, and he still wanted a chance to talk to her before he met Scott and the others.

Alisha dropped her jaw. “What?” She held out her hands in mock shock. “I want to see what you can do.” She looked again at the silhouette she’d shredded with her inexperience and realized that the head and heart shots were probably his. She tilted her head and waved her hands over the holes in the white part of the paper. “Prove to me that these aren’t your shots,” she said with a smirk.

His shoulders rose as he chuckled. “Okay. You win, but only because you twisted my arm.” He grabbed another target and sent it down the lane.

Alisha stood aside and watched him settle into position. She couldn’t help but smile. He was easy on the eyes. His jeans hugged his butt and strong thighs nicely. When he raised his arms into position, the sleeves of his t-shirt rode up and showed more of his tattoos. She wasn’t usually into inked up arms. She could take them or leave them, but the intricate details on some of them were beautiful.

When the target stilled, Mike unloaded the magazine. She hated tearing her eyes from his body to look at the black silhouette at the end of the lane, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself by shamelessly gawking at him. When he finished his shots, he pressed the button and the target sailed through the air towards them.

Alisha raised her eyebrows in shock when she saw what he’d done. “Impressive,” she said, inspecting the paper. A big hole gaped through the forehead and a larger hole shredded the area over the silhouette’s heart.

“So Scott wasn’t exaggerating when he said you were good with guns,” she said. When he chuckled softly at her compliment, she felt herself flush as the deep sound warmed her. Her first impression was right. This man was dangerous. He clearly had the power to make her fall for him.

When her cheeks flushed, he knew he had her. She needed him as much as he needed her. He had sins to atone for. And if she liked him, which her blush betrayed, he could protect her.

“Come on,” he said and picked up their stuff. He extended his arm in a polite gesture and said, “After you.”

Alisha removed her protective muffs, grabbed an antiseptic wipe and rubbed it around the padding. Then she tossed the wipe in the trashcan and hung up the muff. Her nerves were returning, replacing the calm she’d felt moments ago in the safety of the shooting stall. It felt as if jittery bugs ran wind inside her, their tiny legs scratching and tickling her stomach. She wasn’t ready to say good night to him yet, but she also wasn’t brave enough to ask him out for a real date.

Mike didn’t want his time with her to end, but he felt better knowing that she could at least handle the gun now. Even if her aim wasn’t great, she could injure an attacker, and sometimes that was good enough. He’d ask her to come back and practice some more. It wouldn’t be a hardship.

“I’m thirsty,” he said. “Would you like to get a drink with me? We could grab something at the café? It’ll give me a chance to give you a few more pointers.”
And gather more information.

Not wanting to say goodbye to him yet, Alisha agreed. The café had several round tables in the center of the room and booths lined the walls. The outside wall was all windows to allow in outside light, but now the glass showcased the darkness of night.

They ordered their drinks and sat at a booth along the wall of windows. Alisha wrapped her hands around the warm mug and stared at the mountain of whipping cream that crested upon the hot chocolate. “Thanks for the drink,” she said, looking up at him.

“You’re welcome.” He liked the sound of her voice. He could imagine hearing the pleasant lilt on a regular basis. He hadn’t had a real relationship with a woman in a long time. He’d dated, but nothing serious. His job wasn’t conducive to relationships, but that was in his past. His life of long deployments was over, and he wanted to set down some roots. He wanted a real relationship with a woman. One based on trust, commitment, and love. He was ready for that. He just needed to find the right woman.   

They chatted for a while and slowly sipped their drinks. Mike gave her some pointers in regards to her weapon and asked a lot of questions about her, but she wanted to know more about him. She set her mug down on the table and gave him a smile. “You’ve done a great job interviewing me,” she teased. “Now it’s
my
turn.”

He grinned, his eyes trained on her. She liked the way his face transformed when he laughed. Little lines crinkled at his eyes, and his smile softened his serious face.

“You have a lot of tattoos, and you’re obviously in shape. What do you do for a living?”

He smiled again, glad she noticed that he was in shape. He’d let her look all she wanted to. “I’m in private security.”

“Hmm. I can totally see that. I bet you’re good,” she said as her eyes wandered over his broad chest and muscled arms. “Are you a bodyguard?”

He shrugged. There was no way he could tell her everything about his work, so he gave her an abridged version. “Sometimes. We do a variety of things. One facet of my job is teaching others how to increase their security. Many of the larger companies offer security advice to their employees. They send their employees around the world, and we teach them how to protect themselves. What to wear and not wear when traveling. How to look for suspicious behavior, what to do in a crisis, stuff like that. Occasionally we travel with people for added protection.

“That sounds pretty cool. Were you in the military before?” She figured that must be it. If he were an ex-con she doubted that he would be hired by a security firm. She hated that she was judging him on his appearance, but anyone with that many tattoos, scars, and muscles had a history to go along with them.

“Yes,” he shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about what he did in the military. Too many people had preconceived notions and stereotypes about who they thought he’d be when they heard what he’d done for a living. He wanted Alisha to decide for herself what she thought of him and not be influenced by propaganda and legends. He didn’t want her making assumptions about him.

“I made great friends there,” Mike continued. “The guys are like brothers to me. Most of us keep in contact.” He really didn’t want to talk about himself. He needed to know more about her situation. “Can I ask you about the stalker?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t ruined the connection that he felt with her by being so direct and cutting off her questions.

She smiled and looked into the mug. They’d almost made it through a cup of hot chocolate for her and a cup of coffee for him without her thinking about the stalker. While they’d been talking about the gun and other mundane things, she’d been so focused on Mike and the good time that she was having that the stalker vanished completely from her thoughts. That rarely happened. With a forced smile she said, “What do you want to know?”