An hour later, Griffin had Laura settled in his house. Back at the hospital, she’d lost all color and had outwardly trembled at the thought that Arrico might have already found her. Griffin hadn’t seen fear like that since his last rescue two years ago. He didn’t like seeing it on someone he was supposed to protect.
She’d hardly spoken during the drive out west of Oklahoma City. Joy was on her way, escorted by Sydney Tate, Enigma’s sole female operator. To be safe, Griffin had disinfected Laura’s arm. Then they had eaten dinner. She’d been quiet throughout the meal, a sense of dread palpable in the room.
Before they’d left the hospital, Griffin had checked the security footage from the elevator. So as not to alert anyone else in the hospital, he had managed to keep that between him and the guard in the equipment room. It was impossible to tell who had jabbed Laura with the syringe.
It could’ve been the kid in the hoodie or the nurse or the guy who’d gotten on last. The nurse would certainly have easy access to a syringe. Since they hadn’t reported the incident, only they and the person with the syringe knew what had happened. Before Griffin gave out that information to the nurse, he would observe her, see how she behaved around Laura. Griffin stood in the doorway between his kitchen and living room. Fluorescent light brightened the room, gliding over the white cabinets and light blue walls. His guest sat at the kitchen table in front of the bay window.
It was weird having a woman here. He never had, not in this house, anyway. He didn’t bring dates here. In fact, he hadn’t had a date since his broken engagement to Emily. And so far in this job, he hadn’t needed to host a client—male or female.
Papers were scattered across the table’s oak surface and Laura’s head was bent as she worked on the mountain of forms needed by the hospital and the transplant doctor. Her black hair was down now, sliding around her shoulders like a silky midnight cloud. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
She glanced up and saw him. Griff braced one shoulder against the doorframe. “How’s your arm?”
“A little sore. Not bad.”
“Getting through all of the paperwork?”
“There are a ton of questions, but I’m about finished.” She furrowed her brow. “I almost signed my real name a couple of times.”
“It’s good you caught yourself.”
“That’s one of the reasons WitSec likes witnesses to keep their real first name and the same first letter of their surname.”
“Makes sense.” Griffin had never thought about it, but he imagined it would be second nature to sign or answer to your real name. “It probably helps keep any friends or relatives in the program from blurting out the wrong name.”
She nodded, indicating the cell phone lying in front of her on the table. “Thanks for the phone. I called Floyd and explained that I’ll likely be my dad’s bone marrow donor.”
Griffin walked over and picked up the burner phone he’d given her, planning to dispose of it downstairs in the computer room. “How often does Yates want you to check in?”
“Every day until the procedure is finished. He’s planning to come down in a week or earlier if he needs to.” When Griffin nodded, she continued, “I still can’t believe I’m a match. From what Aunt Joy said, the doctor made it sound like it was a near miracle. I hope it makes a difference to my dad.” She finally stopped writing and put down the pen, frowning. “I hope it cures him. I don’t want to let him or Aunt Joy down.”
“You won’t. Just your being here helps.”
Her gaze searched his and after a moment, she smiled. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.”
It probably shouldn’t be him. For a second, he was struck by the clear blue of her eyes. He didn’t realize he was staring like an idiot until she looked away, pink blooming in her cheeks.
He gave himself a mental kick. What was he doing? He needed to focus on her protection, not her.
“Once Joy arrives, and we draw your blood, I’ll send everything with Sydney to a lab we use,” he told her again. He was nervous all of a sudden and couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“How long will it be until we know something?”
“If there are no glitches, twenty-four hours or less. The lab will email the results to me.”
“Is that safe?” Laura tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know email accounts get hacked.”
“Everything on these computers is encrypted.”
“Good to know.” She gave him a little smile, which hit him right in the gut. He didn’t like it. Suddenly he felt as if the walls were closing in on him.
“There’s not a lot here to keep you entertained. TV or a few books, mainly thrillers. Or my gun range.”
“Your gun range?”
He nodded. “It’s underground.”
“Really?” Interest flashed in her eyes. “I don’t know how to shoot, but I’d like to learn, especially after what happened in the elevator.”
Being able to protect herself would give her some peace of mind. Griffin could do that. “If you’re serious, I can give you some lessons.”
“That would be great. I’d feel better if I at least knew how to handle a gun.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She rose. “Now?”
He nodded. He wasn’t wild about taking her downstairs to the security room, but on the off chance that she might be threatened here, he wanted her to know she had a secure place to go.
After straightening her papers, she followed him across the wood floor of his large living area, then through the kitchen before they moved into the laundry room.
Griffin opened the closet used to store the iron and ironing board, which also had a rod for hanging clothes.
He pushed a button on the bottom of the clothes rod and the back of the cabinet swung open, revealing a set of stairs.
“Oh, my word! Is there a secret room?”
Laura’s question sparked a half smile. Instead of answering, he stepped inside and started down the stairs. Motion-triggered lights flashed on to show the way.
She followed. At the bottom of the steps, the space opened into a large room that housed all his computers and security equipment. His guest stopped beside him and Griffin punched in today’s code, killing the laser security beams.
He started across the dark floor, then realized Laura wasn’t behind him. He glanced back, stopping when he saw her stunned expression as she looked around the room with its long chrome table full of black monitors.
“This is like the Batcave!” she exclaimed.
That startled a laugh out of him. “Not exactly.”
“Close enough.”
He was still smiling when she moved to the bank of flat-screen monitors stretching in front of her. When was the last time he’d laughed while with a woman? He didn’t know.
His chair was arranged so that he faced the door and the screens, allowing him to see the entrance at all times. Along the adjacent wall was a refrigerator/freezer and a black leather sleeper sofa.
“What is this place?” Laura studied the monitors that displayed all the rooms in the house and various places on the property. “You really are prepared for anything.”
“If I need to, I can stay down here for a while.”
“You mean like if you were under siege?” Her eyes twinkled as she gave a disbelieving laugh.
He didn’t laugh, recalling the night that he and his team had been ambushed and under siege, resulting in the loss of his friends. He wasn’t going to be in a vulnerable position again if he could help it.
“It comes in handy,” he allowed.
“Impressive.” Her gaze moved around the space. Past the restroom at the back and to the vault on the same wall.
“This is amazing,” Laura murmured.
“If you get spooked and I’m not around, you can come down here.”
“Are you planning to leave me here while you go to work?”
“You are my work, so no.” He didn’t miss the relief in her eyes. “This is a place you can come in case you need to. Plus there’s another exit.”
She scanned the room. “Where?”
“Through the vault.” He led her to the large steel door with its engraving of the trident earned by all SEALs.
With an expression of awe, she stopped in front of the vault. “Wow.”
She reached toward the engraving of the eagle, anchor and flintlock that marked a sailor as a fully qualified navy SEAL. Griffin grabbed her hand. At the touch, a warm tingle spread up his arm.
Whoa, he thought, releasing her. “You aren’t in my system and you’ll set off the alarm if you touch the door.”
“Oh.”
“Let me show you.” Stepping up to a recessed dark glass panel in the wall beside the vault, he bent so his retina could be scanned. After the approving beep, he placed his hand on the panel. It beeped again; then the vault lock clicked open.
“Unbelievable,” Laura breathed. “This is just like in the movies.”
“When we finish shooting practice, I’ll put you in the system. I can delete your prints after you’re gone.”
“All right.”
He opened the door wide and waited for her to precede him into the custom-made room.
She walked through the door, trailing a scent of spring freshness. “How long have you worked at Enigma?”
“Three and a half years.”
“What did you do before that?”
“I was in the Teams.”
“The Teams?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Like...sports?”
He almost smiled. “No, ma’am. The navy.”
After a second, her eyes widened. “You mean you were a SEAL?”
He tensed, wondering how she would react. Some women treated them like superheroes, some like killing machines in a video game. They were just men. Men who’d learned the hard way to do hard things. “Yes, I was.”
She didn’t ask if he’d killed anyone. Instead, her question was “Are your teammates still SEALs?”
“No.” He didn’t talk about them. Ever.
She must have realized he didn’t intend to say more. After a moment, she said, “Thank you.”
His gaze shot to her. “For what?”
“Your service to our country.”
There was no mistaking the sincerity or admiration in her eyes. Those were the last things she needed to feel for him. He didn’t deserve it. Not after what he’d done. Not after his decision had resulted in the deaths of his friends.
“How did you meet my aunt?”
“She was a volunteer at the hospital where I had additional surgery on my leg.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“Broken femur, gunshot, shrapnel.” In the firefight that had killed his teammates. “Joy, uh, urged me to come work for Enigma.”
Laura gave him a half smile. “I guess you learned pretty quickly that she won’t take no for an answer.”
“I did.” Joy’s job offer had probably saved his life.
Griffin walked between the two walls that exhibited a number of guns, everything from an Uzi to a sniper rifle.
He gestured toward the waist-high center cabinet with its drawers of ammunition. “The ammo is in the third drawer down.”
When she didn’t respond, he looked over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, mouth agape, blue eyes wide.
“How many guns do you have?”
“Seventy-five.” In here. “This underground range is also an alternate way to get out, if you ever need one. I’ll show you after we get to the practice area.”
She joined him at the cabinet, picking up the box of cartridges he pushed toward her. “Your place is something else.”
“I never could’ve built it if I weren’t working at Enigma.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of my first assignments was to rescue a man’s daughter and he insisted on rewarding me.”
“He must be the richest man in the world.”
She wasn’t far off, Griffin admitted. The man was a sultan. “He was grateful.”
“I’ll say.” Her eyes sparkled. “Did he give you an island, too?”
“No.” But he had tried to give his daughter to Griffin. He had barely gotten out of that without insulting the man. The woman had been stunningly beautiful, but she’d never had an effect on him. No woman had after Emily and that was the way he wanted it.
“Ready?”
Laura nodded, following him through the opening at the back of the vault. The long hallway veed into an area composed of three shooting stations.
She chuckled. “I feel like Jamie Bond.”
He grinned. Despite the gravity of her situation and that of her father, she still had a sense of humor. He liked that.
She might look as though a strong wind would blow her over, but there was steel beneath that dainty shell. She’d testified against a vicious criminal. That took guts.
Before meeting her, Griffin had been curious. Now he was impressed.
In short order, he outfitted them both with safety goggles and ear protectors. The paper targets were already set up, so Griffin handed Laura a Walther PPK. The small gun would fit her hand better than some of his others.
After explaining how to engage the safety, he instructed her on loading the clip. As she slid the bullets in one by one, she glanced up. “How did you find me?”
“After Joy told me what happened, I touched base with an old friend.”
“Floyd’s boss?”
“Yes.” He hadn’t gone through the proper channels. He’d needed info and fast, needed to make sure he wasn’t putting her in danger when he showed up. Bohannon, the US marshal he’d rescued two years ago in Eastern Europe, had been more than happy to supply Griffin with whatever information he needed.
It had taken less than an hour to get the name of the US marshal assigned to her case. Then Griffin had gone to the field office in Colorado Springs to speak with Floyd Yates and read Laura’s trial transcripts and a copy of her file built by the marshals.
He demonstrated how she should stand and hold the weapon, then turned it over to her. She missed the target three times before finally hitting it. Using the markings on the paper, Laura hit center mass several times, although none in the same spot.
He urged her to try two shots to the chest area and one to the head. That gave her a little trouble, but she kept shooting, a fierce look of concentration on her face.
Joy had given him a picture, so Griffin had known that her niece was pretty, but up close she was...more.
She was the kind of pretty that grew the longer you were with her. Direct blue eyes, thick straight black hair pulled back to show the fine line of her neck and jaw. A mouth that hinted at a ready smile despite the fact that her life had been ripped away from her.
He noticed a scar on her chin. Had she gotten that from Arrico?
She emptied her last clip into the chest area of the paper silhouette of a man’s upper body. The sharp odor of gunpowder filled the air around them.
Griffin hit the button to mechanically bring the targets to them. After examining her shots, he smiled. “Not bad for your first try. Come down here and practice whenever you like.”
“Do you mind giving me more instruction?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks.” She studied her handiwork with pursed lips. “Hopefully, I won’t need to defend myself.”
Her words reminded Griffin that as long as she was out of WitSec, she was vulnerable. And his responsibility.
A beep on his cell phone alerted him to a text message from Sydney. “Your aunt should be here soon.”
They walked up the hallway, their shoulders brushing. They reached the vault door and Griffin moved out into the computer room. When she didn’t immediately follow, he glanced over his shoulder. And froze.
She had stopped in front of the picture.
Taped to the wall was a photograph of him with his team. The four of them were on the beach at Coronado in board shorts, the sun setting behind them. They’d just returned from jump school and had gone to the beach to relax. He’d been so distracted by his protectee that he’d hadn’t thought about the picture being there.
Her blue gaze met his. “These must be your teammates.”
“Yes.” He didn’t try to temper the coldness in his voice.
“You all look like such close friends.”
“Yes.” He wanted to shut her down.
“I guess you can’t talk about them. For security reasons?”
“Right.” He couldn’t talk about them, but that wasn’t why.
She frowned, probably wondering why he couldn’t seem to manage more than one-word answers. Now she would ask questions. Questions he didn’t want asked and wouldn’t answer. He hated the whole idea of it. It would remind him that they were all gone. Dead. Because of him.
The security buzzer sounded, signaling that someone was on the property. A quick glance at the closest monitor showed Sydney’s gray SUV coming up the winding gravel drive toward the house. “Looks like Joy is here.”
“Oh, good.” Laura moved to stand in front of him, close enough that a strand of her hair caught on his gray T-shirt.
He saw curiosity and a brief flash of pity in her eyes, just long enough to make him stiffen. Then it was gone.
“I’m sorry.” She gestured toward the picture. “For whatever happened.”
She squeezed his forearm, then walked out. His chest hurt from her words. It was clear that she knew his friends were dead, but he saw no reason to confirm it. How could she know that? Maybe it wasn’t hard to figure out, but it made him feel as if she were in his head.
The realization made him want to bolt. He didn’t do personal, not after what had happened in Afghanistan. And not after what had happened once he’d returned home to Emily.
If Laura had been any other client, he would have passed her off to Boone or Sydney, but because of his friendship with Joy, he couldn’t.
He glanced back at the photo of him, Ace, Davy and J.J. His jaw tensed.
Griffin didn’t want to be responsible for Laura Prentiss aka Parker, but he was. He wouldn’t fail her the way he’d failed his teammates.
* * *
Last night at Griffin’s had gone better than Laura had expected. She’d been comfortable and somewhat relaxed, but after what had happened at the hospital, she couldn’t shake the fear that Vin had found her.
Though Griffin had stayed nearby, he hadn’t crowded her. And for the first time since Laura and her father had their falling-out three years ago, she hadn’t felt alone. Even with Vin, it had often seemed as if she were all by herself.
This morning she was still thinking about Griffin’s reaction to her seeing the photo of him with his friends. The tortured look in his eyes had troubled her. It had been obvious something awful had happened. She didn’t really blame him for not wanting to talk about it.
It wasn’t her business. In another week, she would be gone and she would likely never see him again. Still, she’d wanted to know about the photo. And him.
Though she had tried not to dwell on his reaction, she wondered about it. Wondered about a lot of things. He knew a lot about her. She knew next to nothing about him. Except that she was finding it hard not to like him.
Sydney had arrived for Joy, assuring Laura they would meet her at the hospital. The brunette had an ease about her that made her easy to believe. Laura and Griffin had left soon after.
Now she and her bodyguard hurried across the hospital parking lot and into the warmth the building provided. As they stopped in front of the elevators, Laura removed her coat. The paperwork she’d brought added a little weight to her purse.
“So your new clothes fit okay?” Griffin asked in a deep rumble.
She glanced down at her dark purple sweater. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be wearing the same clothes until my things arrived from Pueblo. I appreciate you stopping last night so I could buy what I needed.”
“You’re welcome.” The barely there smile he flashed had her smiling back.
All in all, he had gone to a lot of trouble. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting houseguests. Thank you for everything.”
“Sure.” He looked away, as if uncomfortable with the compliment.
No one else stepped into the elevator car and as Laura pushed the button for the seventh floor, so did Griffin. They quickly broke apart but just as it had earlier when he had entered her prints and information into his security system, the feel of his hand on hers lingered. Strong, warm, rock steady. She glanced up. “No word yet on what was in the syringe?”
He shook his head. “I expect to hear anytime now.”
As the bell dinged their arrival, Laura looked up at the man beside her. “I hope my—Nolan’s awake this time. After I turn in this paperwork, I want to see him.”
As they exited, she lightly touched Griffin’s arm. “I’d like to use the restroom before we check on him.”
“Sure. I’ll wait for you here.”
She walked back past the elevators and down the sparsely populated hall, then pushed open the door to enter the ladies’ room. Chrome faucets gleamed against the white countertops and sinks. The floor and stall doors were also white.
She finished quickly and moved to the sink, putting her purse on the floor at her feet. After washing and drying her hands, she bent to pick up her bag.
Suddenly something snaked around her throat and bit sharply into her skin. She registered a thin cord around her neck as she was jerked back against a hard masculine body. The cord tightened, cutting off her air.
Choking, she clawed frantically at his hands, trying to get her fingers beneath the razor-thin band. It tightened even more, pulling at her hair and crushing her windpipe.
Spots danced before her eyes. The edges of her vision went black and a surge of pure panic shot through her. She twisted, still trying to get her hands under the cord biting into her flesh. The man lifted her off her feet and she struggled, accidentally kicking the trash can.
Desperate for help, she kicked violently, connecting again with the can. She managed to slam the heavy metal container into the wall. Her vision blurred as she distantly heard what she thought was the sound of the falling can.
She felt herself fading. A scream welled up, but she couldn’t get out even a sound. Terror flooded her.
Abruptly, the pressure around her throat eased and she fell, hitting her head on the corner of the sink. She was conscious enough to register a series of grunts and then a sickening thud against the tile.
Suddenly Griffin was on the floor beside her.
“Laura?” He leaned over her, moving her hair gently out of her face as he peered at her. “Laura?”
His face came into focus, his hard-edged features stamped with concern.
She lifted a shaky hand to her throbbing head.
“Can you breathe?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing words past her bruised throat as she gripped his hand. “What happened?”
“You were attacked.”
It had come too close on the heels of yesterday’s attack. Fear sliced through her like a blade, jamming her breath painfully in her chest. “He found me. Vin found me.”
“Looks that way.”
Everything went black.