I was a little shaken up, but after a quick self-evaluation, I felt fine overall. I’d never been driven off the road like that before, so at least it was a new experience.
A little adventure, I thought sardonically.
Admittedly, I didn’t ever want to do it again, but at least I wasn’t hurt, as far as I could tell. My airbag hadn’t even deployed, and I hadn’t been knocked around at all by the crash.
My little Jetta, on the other hand, was screwed. One of the rocks I’d driven over when the black truck had slammed me off the road had done something to my undercarriage, and oil was pooling beneath my car. And, on top of that, I’d had to kick the driver’s side door open to even get out. The double slam from my stalker had messed up those panels pretty thoroughly.
I didn’t know what I’d do. Between the gallery going under, the crazy bikers that were apparently now out for blood, and my wrecked car, my whole life had just completely turned upside down.
And, God, what had happened to Richard? He still hadn’t shown up, and the distance he’d left between us shouldn’t have been more than a few moment’s drive. He should have been right behind me already. I could feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes again as I thought of his body mangled at the bottom of the valley, my ultimate fate shifted to him somehow.
What if they’d hurt him, too, somehow? All because of me not turning over my stupid gallery when Wyatt Axelrod had demanded it. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him because of me. I didn’t care if it was his job to stand in harm’s way or not. I turned and kicked my tire, frustrated, a couple tears spilling down my cheeks.
All of a sudden, as if God himself heard my thoughts, I heard the sound of his Jeep as he came driving around the corner.
I looked back at him as he crunched to a halt behind my car as my misty eyes locked with his own frantic gaze.
“Fuck, Jessica!” he yelled as he leaped from the Jeep and came running to me, his eyes wide with obvious fear, blood dripping from his lips. “I’m so sorry! Some Skull and Bones bikers cut me off just as I lost sight of you!”
My heart sang as he came running to me, and my tears of fear turned to ones of relief. “Sorry?” I asked in a half-sob, meeting him halfway as I sniffled. “What the hell happened to you? What are you sorry for?”
“I wasn’t here,” he said, putting an arm around my waist and pulling me into a warm, strong hug before either of us realized what he was doing. “Are you okay?” he nearly whispered in my ear.
A shiver went through my body as I relaxed into his arms and lay my head against his chest, tears soaking his shirt.
“Yeah, it was just a fender bender,” I replied with a sniff, pulling back from him so I could take a look at his bloodied face, at his already scabbing lips. I explained to him about the truck and told him about what happened. I reached up, forgetting that we didn’t have a relationship to speak of, and touched his chin. “What about you? You’re all bloody.”
He winced and brushed my hand from his face. “Some of those Skull and Bones bikers came up from behind and cut me off. Got into a fight with one of them before Frank came and kept me from kicking his ass,” he said. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “Besides, I’m not the one that’s traumatized,” he continued as the old Mustang I’d seen earlier came barreling up and parked right behind Richard’s Jeep. With all these vehicles piling up, the side of the highway was starting to look like a parking lot.
Another tall, equally heart-throbbing hunk climbed out of the car. Rather than blonde and clean shaven like Richard, this one had dark brown hair and a well-trimmed goatee.
“Everyone okay?” he called as Richard broke away from me, almost as if he was embarrassed by our moment of intimacy.
“Yeah, Frank,” Richard called back. “Client’s fine.”
At first I was hurt by his pulling away from me so suddenly, but then I realized this was another one of the security guys, the one who’d helped with the fight Richard had been in. If sleeping at my cabin the previous night had been against protocol and required special approval from Richard’s boss, then hugging a client and sharing a moment after a traumatic event, like we just had, certainly was too.
“Frank, meet Jessica Long. Jessica, meet Frank O’Dwyer. He’s back up from Denver, and will be helping us out on your protection detail.”
Frank grinned a little as he came towards me, his boots crunching over the gravel with every step. He was a little shorter than Richard, but he was definitely broader. He looked like the body building type, and, just like Richard, he exuded that same vibe of quiet danger. Not necessarily the kind of guy I’d personally go for, but I could see why Sheila would have been so enamored with this one.
“Jessica,” he said in a strong Texas twang, offering his worn, rugged hand, “a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I replied, taking it firmly.
Frank craned his head around me and looked down at the pool of motor oil forming around one of the wheels. “Car’s fucked,” he said, not even attempting to sugarcoat things.
Richard glanced down, and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, but then looked to me. “But you’re safe, right? Cars can get fixed faster than people.”
“Cheaper, too,” Frank agreed.
I nodded and smiled, reassured a little. They were right. I might be stuck between a rock and a crazy biker gang, but at least I was alive.
Richard set his eyes on me. “Safe house?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, not even having to consider it any longer.
“Good,” he replied, then addressed Frank. “Get a wrecker out here to pick up her car while I run her back to her place. I want to get her moved fast.”
“Gotcha covered,” he said, nodding curtly. “I’ll get the cabin stocked full of fixings, too, while you guys get her packed. Fresh meats, everything you’ll need for a few days. The whole nine yards.” He turned and headed back to his Mustang without saying another word, his phone already in hand.
“Grab your purse,” Richard said to me, “and keys and whatever else you need from your car. We go to your place, we get Eli and Wallach, we get everything else, then we drop off your dogs and head for our bolthole, okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure thing.”
And, like that, I was headed for a secluded cabin in the woods.
With Richard. For a few days.
As I mechanically grabbed my belongings and piled into Richard’s Jeep, I realized that I was way less freaked out than I should be. Something about his presence just made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like everything was going to be alright, even if there were moments when they weren’t.
One part of my brain was terrified by what was happening.
The other part, though? It was just relieved that Richard was okay.