Page 7 of Protecting What's Mine
“I’ll keep her safe, sir,” I say, my voice firm and steady as I look her father in the eye. My words aren’t just a promise—they’re an oath, and I don’t make those lightly.
Fredrick nods, satisfied, and we get to work transferring Tory’s belongings from their car to my truck. She has more bags than I anticipated—small, feminine things that don’t take up much space but somehow feel significant. Each one feels like a glimpse into her life, into the things she values. I tuck them carefully into the back of the truck, securing them as if they contain treasures.
When the last bag is loaded, I turn to see Tory hugging her father. The sight stirs something unexpected in me—a pang of emotion I quickly suppress. I don’t have room for sentimentality in this line of work, but watching her cling to him, seeing the protective way he pats her back, reminds me why I do this. Why I keep people like her safe.
But it’s not just about duty. Not this time.
When she pulls away from him, there’s a vulnerability in her expression that makes my chest tighten. She’s trusting me now. Trustingmeto keep her safe.
I stride over to the passenger door and pull it open, holding out my hand to help her in. She hesitates for the briefest moment before taking it, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity up my arm. I steady her as she climbs into the seat, her body moving with a natural grace that only makes her more captivating.
“You ready?” I ask, my voice a little gruffer than I intended. I’m already struggling to keep the edge out of it, to keep from letting her see how much she’s affecting me.
She turns those impossibly blue eyes on me, studying me in a way that feels almost too intimate. It’s as if she’s peeling back the layers, trying to figure out who I am and whether I’m worthy of her trust.
“I am,” she says softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength beneath the nerves.
I nod, closing the door behind her and circling to the driver’s side. As I settle into the seat and start the engine, I glance her way again. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight but not stiff. She’s trying to be brave, but I can sense the tension in her.
She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s safe with me. Safer than she’s ever been. And by the time this is over, she’ll know it too.
She’ll know she belongs with me.
Her father fades into the distance in the rearview mirror as I navigate the city streets, heading toward the safe house. Tory sits quietly at first, staring out the windshield, her delicate fingersgripping the strap of her small backpack-purse. She hugs it to her chest—her glorious chest—and I quickly snap my gaze back to the road.
I force myself to focus. The thoughts swirling in my mind are anything but professional, and I can’t afford to let them linger. There will be time for that later—afterthe mission. Once I’ve ensured she’s safe, I’ll allow myself to consider how much I want her, how much I want to claim her in every way. But not now. Not yet.
The streets are bustling with midday traffic, and I take several intentional detours, weaving through back roads and making random turns to ensure we aren’t being followed. It’s standard protocol, though I’m aware it’s adding unnecessary time to the drive. What should’ve been a quick twenty-minute trip has stretched into over an hour.
To her credit, Tory doesn’t complain. Instead, she fills the time by talking—endlessly.
It’s not mindless chatter, either. She launches into her life story with an enthusiasm that catches me off guard. She talks about her studies, her love for molecular biology, the intricate jewelry pieces she designs in her spare time. There’s something charming about the way her words tumble out in a steady stream, her voice light and animated. I find myself captivated by her energy, the way her hands occasionally gesture as she emphasizes a point.
She’sadorable.And I’m not being sarcastic.
“We don’t have a tail,” she finally says when I merge onto the highway after one last detour. There’s a playful edge to her voice, as if she’s been humoring me this whole time.
I glance at her briefly, smirking. “Better safe than sorry.”
Her intelligence isn’t lost on me. She knew exactly what I was doing from the start, and she didn’t even need to ask.
“You probably think this is beneath you,” she says after a moment, twisting in her seat to face me more fully. Her tone shifts, quieter now, with an edge of vulnerability. “Watching over some science nerd.”
I glance at her again, longer this time, meeting her wide blue eyes. “I take all my jobs seriously,” I say firmly. “If your life is in danger, then that’s serious enough for me.”
Her lips part slightly, and she tilts her head, studying me. “I’m more worried about my father,” she says, her voice soft. “Do you think anyone would even bother coming after me?”
I frown, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I think it’s more than that.”
The file I reviewed before this assignment was clear—her father’s work has ruffled some powerful feathers, and a group opposing his appearance at the Summit has been making waves. If they’re as determined as the intelligence suggests, targeting Tory could be their way of silencing him.
“You do?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
She hugs her backpack even closer, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the strap. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, and I have to fight back a groan at the sight. That lip is going to be the death of me if she keeps worrying it like that.
“Yes,” I say, my voice low. “I think there’s more to this than your father’s overprotectiveness.”
Her brows knit together, and she looks away, her gaze falling to the dashboard. I can see the unease settling into her features, the weight of what I’ve just implied.