Lawfully Cherished (Billionaire Bodyguard Lawkeeper Romance) Page 2

  “You made your choice, Price,” he murmured under his breath. “This is what you get for not following protocol. You botched a case. You let the perp get away. And you…” His voice trailed off as he finished the sentence in his head. You got your partner killed.

  Victor fisted his hands and swallowed the lump in his throat. It’d been five years since Nicholas Livingston took a bullet that was meant for him. Five years since he’d lost his best friend and given up the job he loved. And five long years of guilt and shame.

  He wondered sometimes how he was still alive. In all honesty, the only thing that kept him going was the thought that Nick couldn’t have died in vain. He also had to keep the promise he’d made to him, to keep an eye on his baby sister. Those two things, plus his faith, motivated him to wake up each day and to keep one foot moving in front of the other. There had to be a reason God had spared his life.

  From his sweater, he pulled out his last gift from Nick, a silver cross he wore around his neck. Clutching it in his hand, he said a quick prayer. It was the same prayer he said every day, first for protection over Nick’s sister, then for strength for himself. He didn’t have much faith, but he supposed whatever he had was enough. Natasha was safe and he … well, he was still alive. That’s all he could ask for.

  The ringing of his phone jerked him out of his thoughts. He groaned to see an unlisted number flash across the screen. Probably a new client with another cheating spouse for him to follow. He answered with a gruff hello.

  “Victor?” a low, commanding voice greeted him. “This is Silas Livingston.”

  Victor shot up in his seat. Nick’s uncle? The tech billionaire contacted him from time to time whenever he needed Victor to dig into the background of one of his employees. He hadn’t heard from him in months though. “Mr. Livingston, hello. How are you?”

  “There’s an urgent matter I need you to attend to.”

  “Of course, sir.” Victor’s mind raced as he considered why Silas might be calling him today. There was an unfamiliar edge to the older man’s voice.

  “It’s regarding Natasha.”

  Victor’s heart began pounding at the mention of Nick’s younger sister. “Did something happen to her? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. For now, at least.”

  “For now?” The hair on Victor’s arms stood up, a telltale sign from his cop days that something wasn’t right. “What do you mean, sir? Is she in some kind of trouble?”

  “I suspect she is or will be. I just received a threatening letter in the mail. It came in an unmarked enveloped with a sentence cut out from a magazine: I know where she lives. I have a feeling she refers to Natasha. I have no other living relatives to speak of and certainly no one of significance in my life. I’ve been trying to reach her for the past hour, but she turns her phone off when she’s teaching. I need you to pick her up from the rec center and bring her to my home.”

  “Of course, sir.” Heart racing, Victor checked his watch. Four thirty on a Monday afternoon. Traffic in the city was always bad, but now that rush hour had started, it’d take him some time to make it across the city. It was a good thing he was more than familiar with these streets. “I’m on my way now.”

  “Thank you, Victor.” His voice faltered as he continued. “Please keep her safe.”

  “You have my word.”

  Victor started his car and pulled onto the street already packed with commuters rushing to get home. Squinting against the late afternoon sunshine, he weaved in and out of traffic, relying on the fast reflexes he’d gained from his years of chasing down criminals. A long-forgotten thrill of adrenaline rushed through his veins. He sped toward the Sunset District, eager to reach Natasha before she left the community center. He was especially wary of the fact that she didn’t own a car, instead relying on public transportation to get around the Bay Area. Who knew whose ridesharing vehicle she’d get in today? It could very well belong to the person who had sent the threatening note to Silas. Victor had to stop her before she walked straight into a dangerous situation.

  He slowed the car as he neared Lawton Street, scanning the sidewalk for signs of a petite brunette. “Where is she?” he asked out loud. “She couldn’t have gotten very far.”

  Silence answered him. Victor smirked, partly in amusement, partly from self-pity. In the years since he’d started working solo, he’d gotten into the habit of talking to himself. That’s what a guy did when he no longer had anyone to confide in. It was times like this that he missed having a partner or even a friend. He supposed God could hear him still, and for that, he was grateful. He was going to need the Lord’s help more than ever right now to locate Natasha.

  Suddenly, he spotted a head of nearly black hair. The hair reminded him so much of Nick’s, except that it was thicker and hung halfway down the woman’s back. It was Natasha; he was sure of it. He drove forward until he could see her profile. With the curb full of parked cars, he had no choice but to stop in the middle of the street. He rolled down the passenger side window, ready to call out to her, when she paused and spun around.

  Her eyes immediately landed on Victor’s car, narrowing in suspicion. She cocked her head as she studied him for a good three seconds. Worry flickered across her face, along with confusion, as she made her way to his car. With a cautious tone, she asked, “Victor? What are you doing here?”

  Victor’s mouth grew dry, the bitter taste of coffee coating his tongue. The young woman standing before him bore a striking resemblance to his old partner. The siblings shared the same fair complexion and defined features, but Natasha was also distinctly different with her long dark lashes and full pink lips. She wore minimal makeup, but the small amount served to highlight her natural beauty. He blinked twice, completely mesmerized by her light green eyes.

  It’d been years since he’d seen Natasha face-to-face. A little over six years since they’d dated behind Nick’s back. Victor hadn’t liked keeping secrets from his best friend, but Natasha had insisted life would be easier without her overprotective brother looking over their shoulders. Victor had agreed, knowing his and Natasha’s ten-year age difference wouldn’t have sat well with Nick.

  Honestly, to any outsider, he and Natasha didn’t make sense. She was innocent and refined; he’d been rough around the edges, a reformed rule-breaker. But they shared a love of music, and they got each other. All was going well until the fateful day when everything changed. After Nick’s death, he’d broken things off and never contacted her again.

  In keeping his promise to Nick, however, he made it a point to check in on Natasha from time to time. But he always did so from a distance. Having only seen her from his car parked across a street, he hadn’t realized she had grown even more gorgeous since the last time he saw her.

  “Your uncle…” He managed to utter two words before he lost his train of thought. The car behind him honked, pulling him out of his stupor. Focus, he reprimanded himself. Natasha Livingston was an assignment, nothing more. Swallowing hard, he tried again. “Your uncle asked me to pick you up. Get in, please. I’ll take you to his place now.”

  She took a step toward the car then stopped. Indignation colored her cheeks. “Is this some kind of April Fool’s joke? I haven’t seen you since the memorial service, and suddenly you show up out of the blue? Why didn’t Uncle Silas call me himself?”

  “He did. He’s been trying to reach you for the past hour. Will you please get in the car? He has reason to believe you’re in danger.”

  Natasha scoffed. She crossed her arms over her coat. “Danger? What kind of danger?”

  “I’ll explain,” he insisted loudly amidst more honking as cars sped around him, “as soon as you get in. Tasha, please.”

  With one hand on the handle, she flashed him a skeptical look before opening the door. She quickly climbed into his car, tucked her legs to one side, and shut the door.

  Victor released a heavy sigh as he stepped on the gas. Frustration replaced all the pleasant emotions he’d had a m
oment ago. He and Natasha had a lot of water under the bridge to deal with. He set his mind on this fact and not on his overwhelming urge to breathe in the sweet floral scent of her perfume. This was business, strictly business, Victor reminded himself. He was most definitely not looking to rekindle a relationship with his ex-girlfriend.

  Natasha

  This was the strangest birthday surprise Natasha had ever received. Never in her life did she imagine her old boyfriend pulling up in front of the rec center to pick her up. The last time she’d seen Victor, he’d been a shell of a man. Neither she nor her uncle had blamed him for her brother’s death, but he had walked like a man guilty of murder—bent over with guilt and grief. She’d thought about him often in the years that had passed, wondering if he had moved on with his life. From her initial impressions today, it was fair to say he hadn’t.

  Sitting in his beat-up sedan as they drove south along I-280, she snuck a look at Victor from the corner of her eye. He was leaner now, the angles of his jawline more defined. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, something she herself was all too familiar with. His dark hair was shorter than she remembered with a touch of gray at the temples. Victor was only thirty-five, yet he appeared much more weary than a man his age.

  Victor had been a wild card when he and Nicky met at the police academy. Confident and brash, he’d almost gotten kicked out for partying too hard and skipping classes. Nicky had been the one to get him on the straight and narrow, sharing the gospel with him, not so much with words but through his patience and acceptance. Natasha had witnessed Victor’s heart change over time and found her own heart softening toward him. Yes, she’d fallen for his bad-boy image, but she had really fallen in love with him after he became a Christian. Victor had been her first love and only love … until the horrible day that changed all of their lives.

  Natasha had so many questions to ask him, she didn’t know where to start. Questions about her brother’s last words and whether he had suffered or not. The police reports told her one thing, but she had always wanted to hear it from Victor himself. He was the last person to see Nicky alive. But this was a topic best saved for another time. There were more pressing matters at hand.

  She twisted in her seat to face him. “So, why am I in danger? You said you’d tell me everything once I got in the car, but you haven’t said a word for the last fifteen minutes.”

  Victor shot her a side glance then returned his eyes to the bumper-to-bumper traffic up ahead. He tapped the fingers of his right hand on the steering wheel before replying. “Your uncle received a letter about you. At least he suspects it’s about you. It said, I know where she lives. That’s all he told me so far.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. A shiver traveled down her back, causing her to shake. What was it with letters today? As much as she wanted to believe this was another April Fool’s joke, the coincidence was too great. She pulled out the piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. “I got a letter this morning, too.”

  “You—what? Why didn’t you say something?” Victor gestured impatiently for her to hand over the paper. He glanced at it and shot her a stern look. “You knew you were in danger, yet you still went to the rec center today? You should have gone to your uncle’s or to the police—anything else but carry on as if nothing had happened!”

  Natasha’s brows shot up to see Victor’s face flush red. She didn’t appreciate the accusation in his tone. He was treating her like a child who didn’t know right from wrong. Squaring her shoulders, she retorted, “You’re making it sound like I knowingly put myself in danger. I did no such thing. I was fine all day. I’m still fine.”

  “Victims always think they’re fine—until they’re not. It’s the illusion of safety that puts you in danger. You’ve got to stay alert. Never let your guard down.”

  She eyed him with concern. He wasn’t kidding. The way his gaze flitted about the car, from the rearview mirror to his side mirror and back again, showed he practiced what he preached. Natasha wondered, however, if it was also a sign of paranoia. Perhaps witnessing Nicky’s death had messed with his mind? She chose her next words carefully, thinking it best to lighten the mood. “You do realize what day today is, don’t you?”

  “It’s Monday. The first day of April.” He paused. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Natasha was touched he remembered. She tried not to dwell on it though; it wasn’t a hard date to remember. “It’s April Fool’s day. When I found the letter on my doorstep, I thought it was someone playing a joke on me. I would’ve called the police if I’d known it was a real threat.”

  “A joke?” Victor scoffed. “A joke is adding food coloring to a carton of milk or squirting water from one of those plastic flowers in someone’s face. A joke is leaving a whoopee cushion on somebody’s chair. Does this—” he waved the letter in front of her face “—look like a whoopee cushion to you?”

  Natasha gawked at Victor for a few seconds, the corners of her mouth twitching. She could tell by his firm tone that he meant every word he said, but the situation was too absurd for her to keep a straight face. A giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it. She clamped one hand over her mouth, but not before she snorted.

  Victor flashed her an incredulous look. “This is not a laughing matter.”

  She nodded, schooling her features. “I know! I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that I never ever in my life thought I’d hear you say the words whoopie cushion. And you just said them twice.” A mental image of a red rubbery balloon popped into her head, causing her to giggle again. She turned toward her passenger side window to try to compose herself. Maybe she was the one losing her mind? She hadn’t found anything so funny in a long, long time. And now that she’d started laughing, she couldn’t stop. She repeated the mantra, It’s not that funny, it’s not that funny, until she finally caught her breath. When she turned to face Victor again, she steeled herself for a look of disapproval.

  Surprisingly enough, a smirk played on his lips. He worked his jaw to suppress it, but the appearance of a dimple in his right cheek proved his efforts unsuccessful. He stole a quick glance at Natasha, giving her the smallest hint of a smile when their eyes met.

  She gasped dramatically. “I thought you’d lost it.”

  A crease between his brows appeared, but his tone stayed light. “Lost what?”

  “The ability to smile,” she teased. “I thought maybe your facial muscles only worked in one direction now.”

  Victor flashed her an unimpressed look. “I’m a man of many surprises,” he answered drolly, not missing a beat. His dimple peeked out again as he smirked.

  Natasha couldn’t help but grin. There was the Victor she remembered, the confident and quick-thinking man she’d fallen for. Now that he wasn’t frowning, there was a softness to his features. His whole countenance was brighter. His shoulders dropped as his chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths. Her eyes traveled across his broad shoulders, noticing how good his sweater looked on him. Or how good he made the sweater look. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t deny how much she was still attracted to Victor, despite the fact that tall, dark, and brooding was so not her type anymore.

  Who was she kidding? He was definitely her type.

  Natasha shook her head free of the notion then shoved it to the corner of her mind where she hoped it would disappear. She wasn’t looking to get hurt again. Not by any man, especially not by Victor.

  The cars in front of them began moving, urging them to follow. Victor stepped on the gas, his posture stiffening as he concentrated on the road. He became all business again, his brows furrowed and jaw set. His hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Without warning, he jerked the car to the right, squeezing them into a small opening behind a truck. “Hold on,” he barked to Natasha as he drove them across several lanes at once to reach the turnoff.

  Holding onto the door handle, Natasha braced herself as her body swung fr
om side to side. Colors blurred before her eyes as they passed multiple cars, the freeway sign, and a row of small trees planted along the freeway. Her heart rate picked up speed, reminding her of the frantic pace of “The Flight of the Bumblebee.” That piece always gave her an adrenaline rush when she played it, but it was nothing compared to the fear running through her veins now. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed the world would stop spinning when she opened them.

  After a few minutes, the car slowed down, and Victor let out a loud sigh. “Are you okay?”

  Natasha opened her eyes and looked around. They were on a local street now, driving up the familiar hilly road leading up to her uncle’s mansion in Hillsborough. Shadows fell over them as they drove past the tall trees lining both sides of the road. She glanced in her side mirror, relaxing when she saw there was no one behind them. Still trying to process everything that had happened, she jumped in her seat when Victor called out to her again.

  “I asked if you’re okay?”

  “I-I’m fine.” She brought a hand to her chest where her heart was still pounding. “Just a little freaked out. What happened?”

  “Someone had been tailing us since we got on the freeway. An older black Cadillac, no plates. The driver wore dark shades.”

  She glared at him, mouth agape. “Are you serious? But why? Who?”

  “My money’s on whoever it was that sent you and your uncle those letters.”

  A wave of cold fear washed over Natasha as the reality of the situation sank in. This was definitely not an April Fool’s Day prank. Someone was after her, and she had no idea why.

  Victor

  Victor’s jaw dropped in awe as he drove up the road leading to Silas Livingston’s mansion. The two-story home, with its white columns and large floor-to-ceiling windows, sat at the top of a hill overlooking the bay. With tall trees surrounding it on all sides and the closest neighbor half a mile away, the home was quiet and secluded. Still, he did a visual sweep of the area, relaxing a little at the sight of half a dozen men in dark suits and shades standing along the property line. No doubt a tech genius billionaire would be well protected with his own entourage of bodyguards. He also spotted several security cameras perched atop the roof, turning in their direction as they neared the wrought iron main gate.