Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (21 page)

Leaning back so that she could look up at Bart, she asked, “What are they looking for?”

“They each have various expert training and want to do a quick preliminary. Monty will take a look at the threats and call Mitch. Chad has explosive training—”

“Explosives?” she yelped.

Pulling her in once more, he said, “Babe, let me explain how this is going to work. I want to secure your safety and the only way I can do that is to have you with me. My friends are going to check out your place, contact the FBI, and then we’ll plan what we need to do.”

Monty saw the notes on the kitchen counter and, with gloved hands, bagged them to give to Mitch. Chad came back and said, “Preliminary sweep is negative.” Marc swept for bugs, but also found none. The four men made eye contact, nodded, and then Bart turned his attention back to Faith.

“Faith, I need you to pack a bag so that we can get out of here. This place isn’t secure and I’ll take you somewhere that is.”

“I can’t leave Smee!” she exclaimed, looking up, her dark eyes wide.

“Gather his stuff, too,” Bart easily agreed.

Faith seemed stuck, so with his large hands on her shoulders, he turned her before giving her a gentle push toward her minuscule bedroom. Jolted out of her stupor, she grabbed her suitcase from under the bed and quickly began shoving in clothes before running to the bathroom to grab her toiletries.

Keeping their voices low, the four men conferred as they looked at the two printed threats. “Any ideas?” Bart bit out.

“If someone’s watching her, there are no bugs inside this place,” Marc said. He glanced toward the window, seeing the blinds slightly askew. Walking over to them, he saw the brick building right across the alley and shook his head at her crappy view. “If she kept her blinds open, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone across the way to monitor her.”

Monty’s eyes were on the two notes, now securely in plastic evidence bags. “This isn’t a very sophisticated method of threat, but very effective. FBI will try to pull prints, but chances are there won’t be any except Faith’s.”

Chad looked at the group before settling his gaze on Bart. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

The others looked at him as he answered his own question. “It means Ivan may have been on the right trail and it’s made someone nervous. Someone who’s been around Faith.”

A small gasp came from the door of the bedroom and the men turned in unison, seeing the terrified expression on her face. Bart stalked over, his large body vibrating with anger. “Babe, we got this. You’re coming with me right now. They’re gonna secure your place and install monitoring equipment in case someone comes here.”

He peered at her face, seeing shock. Pulling her into his body for a moment, he willed his heat to seep into her. Stroking her back, attempting to massage her stiffness, he murmured soft sounds into her hair. As her shaking subsided he leaned back. “Better?”

She nodded and left his embrace. Anger was beginning to replace shock. “I’m so pissed that someone would do this to me. I’m nobody!” Bending down, she scooped Smee into his carrier and moved to the closet to get out a large tote bag. She stuffed the litter box and some extra litter and cat food in the tote before turning back around, hesitating.

“What is it?” Bart asked.

“I hate leaving my tree.” She looked at the caring faces staring back. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but those are my grandmother’s antique Christmas ornaments.”

Bart nodded to Monty before saying, “It’ll be safe here, Faith. I can return to pack them up, if necessary.”

“Okay,” she said, resignation filling her voice.

Chad grabbed the tote and the suitcase, while Marc picked up her art portfolio that contained her pads and charcoals, and headed out of the door. Monty stayed inside as Bart took the cat carrier from Faith’s hand and led her down to his truck. Once she was buckled in safely, he turned to the others.

“Thanks, guys.”

“No problem,” Chad assured.

“Take her stuff to your place and then bring her directly to Jack’s. He’s still got everyone there and we’ll meet as soon as you arrive,” Marc reported. “We’ll finish here and then head over.”

“Will do,” Bart agreed, wanting to get her to safety as soon as possible. Hopping into the driver’s seat, the truck fired to life. Glancing to the side, he tried to joke, “We need to stop meeting like this. I’m beginning to think that something’s wrong if you’re not in the passenger side of my truck.”

She gave a wan smile, her fingers still clutching Smee’s carrier. He let out a long meow, and she tapped the side to distract him.

Bart wanted to ask about the notes, but hated for her to have to repeat the story too many times.
It can wait until we get to Jack’s.

She stared out of the window, reality slowly sinking in as the miles rolled by. They turned into an older neighborhood on the outskirts of Charlestown. Mature trees dotted the large lawns, and she noticed that each house was different.
So unlike the modern neighborhoods where all the houses look like box images of each other.
When he finally pulled into a driveway at the end of a cul-de-sac, she was stunned at the home coming into view.

An old, large, two-story home, with the full front porch complete with columns, stood in front of her. The white porch, door, and shutters were in sharp contrast to the blue siding.

“This is…um…wow,” she said, leaning down to look at it all.

“It’s home,” he shrugged, wondering what she thought of it.

“It’s not what I expected you to have,” she confessed. “I thought you’d be in one of those more modern apartment buildings, complete with a gym and a coffee shop.”

Chuckling, he looked over at her face, eyes with dark circles underneath but shining nonetheless. “I lived in one for about six months when I first came into town, but found that I kinda like my privacy. So I bought a house that needed just a little TLC in an established neighborhood and have spent some time doing the small fix-it jobs that needed to be done.”

Hopping out of the truck, he rounded the hood and opened her door. Taking the tote and suitcase from the back, he escorted her to the front. Once inside, he set her things down and said, “Let’s get Smee settled.”

She started to set the carrier down on the floor when a noise from the hall startled her. A large dog bounded toward them, tail wagging and tongue lolling. She stifled a scream as the huge animal jumped up as Bart knelt, rubbing its head.

“What’s that?” she squeaked.

“Faith, meet Apollo,” Bart introduced.

“Bart,” she protested. “I can’t leave Smee here with that…that…”

“Apollo is all heart, I assure you. He’s completely harmless.” He ruffled the dog’s fur again, saying affectionately, “Aren’t you, boy?” Looking at Faith, seeing her dubious expression, he said gently, “Come on, pet him.”

She gingerly held out her hand allowing the dog to sniff her fingers before licking them. She smiled up at Bart. “He’s a sweetheart, but there’s no way Smee is going to get along with him.”

He thought for a second, then said, “Let me crate Apollo until we come back from Jack’s place.”

The reminder of what she faced hit her and she grimaced as she thought of the poor dog locked up for hours. “No, let’s not do that.” Seeing Bart about to protest, she added, “Honestly, Smee is going to be freaked being in a new area. If you have a small room, I can get his litter box set up and he can easily be confined for a little while and will be perfectly happy.”

He thought for a second and said, “Let’s use the laundry room.” Showing her the way, they placed the litter box, food, and water in there before she opened the carrier after Bart had left the room and closed the door. Petting Smee, she assured him she would return, before slipping out of the room.

Bart was standing at the kitchen bar when she came out. She glanced around in curiosity at the large, comfortable rooms. The living room, dining room, and kitchen appeared to have an old quality to them and yet were furnished beautifully. Definitely masculine, beautiful, but…empty.

“Something wrong?” he asked, watching the myriad of expressions cross her face.

“No…uh, well…you don’t have a Christmas tree?” she asked in curiosity.

“It didn’t seem to make any sense to decorate a house that just has me in it,” he confessed.

He watched her gaze move around the rooms, and explained, “My cousin Sabrina helped me furnish the place. She’s an interior designer.”

“It’s lovely, Bart. I admit that I never pictured you in a place like this.”

“So…” he smirked, “you have been thinking about me?”

Swatting his hard arm, she shook her head. “Yep, just as cocky as always.”

He inwardly groaned,
If only she knew what my cock thought about her being in my house!
As soon as he had that thought, it brought back to mind why they were there and he became all business once more. “We’ll get you settled in later but, for now, we need to head to Jack’s.”

“Maybe by the time we finish I’ll be able to go back home tonight.”

“We’ll see,” he said noncommittally, knowing there was no way he was letting her go back unprotected tonight. The idea of her staying at his house had him thinking,
And I’ll work to make sure my house is where you want to be!

F
aith gawked with
unabashed interest as Bart entered the security code into the panel by the tall, brick pillar next to the gate. Her fascination did not diminish as they drove through the woods and then into the clearing where Jake’s house was located.

“Wow,” was the only word she said.

Bart laughed, parking his truck next to the accumulation of other trucks and SUVs. Walking around to assist her down, he felt her hand tremble in his. Tucking her into his embrace, he enjoyed how her body fit into his.

“Who all is here?” she queried, her nerves betraying her.

“I think Jack has all the Saints here to process the threats to you.”

“Do…do they all feel about me the way you did?”

Stopping on the front porch, he turned her around, still holding her close, but having her face him. Leaning down to make eye contact, he said, “Faith, I was a biased idiot. I made assumptions and I was wrong. They all know that.” He watched carefully as she processed his words and nodded slightly. “And babe? I plan on making it up to you. Promise.”

Before she could question him further, the heavy oak door flung open and they were greeted enthusiastically by a beautiful, petite blonde woman smiling widely. “Come in, come in,” she invited, stepping back. As they entered, the woman grabbed her and said, “You must be Faith. I’m Bethany, Jack’s wife.” Faith was engulfed in a warm hug.

Two other women stepped up, equally as friendly. Introduced to Miriam and Sabrina, Faith stood awkwardly, not knowing what was expected.

Bart’s arm across her shoulders guided her toward the massive living room where she came to a sharp halt. The room was complete with a stone fireplace that continued up to the vaulted ceiling, floor to ceiling windows flanking the wall facing the mountains, and oversized furniture. But more than just the house caught her attention. The wall of testosterone facing her from the room caused her breath to catch in her throat. Eight men stood, three of them she recognized from her apartment.

A lumberjack of a man, complete with a full dark beard and intelligent blue eyes approached. Sticking out his hand, he shook hers gently. “Faith? Nice to meet you. I’m Jack Bryant. Welcome to my home.”

She liked the way his eyes twinkled as he smiled and she responded, “Thank you.” Her eyes wandered to the massive tree with Christmas ornaments on every limb. “Your home is beautiful. I’m…I’m really sorry to be so much trouble.”

She saw his eyes darken to a stormy grey and he leaned in saying, “Nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t bring this on. We’re here to find the ones who did.”

Jack turned to the group and pronounced, “Everyone settle in. We’re meeting up here for now.”

Bart understood Jack was not going to take Faith down to the command center and he appreciated that the other three women moved quietly into the kitchen.
Out of sight, but not out of hearing range,
he grinned.

Propelling Faith over, he settled them at the end of one of the sofas and waited as the other men made themselves comfortable as well. She looked around, noting each one had a tablet in front of them, several tapping away furiously.

Introductions were made quickly, but she knew she would never remember them later, except for Cam. The large Hispanic man was Bart’s best friend and his warm eyes stayed on her as they flicked back and forth between them.

Jack began easily, “Faith, let me explain how things are now so you understand.” Seeing her nod nervously, he began, “My company was contracted to work for Ivan to check into his major enemies—those who would most likely profit from his business demise—while the FBI were investigating into the kidnapping. We work with the FBI, withholding nothing from them. My company was not directly hired to find Erik, but to discern what other information we could gather. Ivan told me that he had contacted someone else to assist, and of course, that was you.”

She licked her lips, wondering what he would say about her involvement in the case. Bart leaned down and whispered, “Breathe,” and the air left her lungs in a whoosh.

Jack continued, “Bart went to each meeting with the full acknowledgment of the FBI and was wired each time. The audio and video feed was not only analyzed by us, but was immediately sent to the FBI. The two of you were never in any actual danger. Once the two of you finished with Sergio our contractual obligations were over, even though Erik has not been found.” Seeing her furrowed brow, he reminded her, “Remember, we were only contracted to do some digging into Ivan’s enemies to see if they would offer any info that would be withheld from the FBI.”

She chanced a glance around the room, seeing all eyes focused on her and she shivered. She felt Bart’s arm tighten against her shoulder, but wished she was closer to the roaring fire in the fireplace.

“And now?” Jack prompted. “Our focus has now changed. We are back into the investigation.”