Bodyguard (Den of Thieves, #2) (4 page)

“Really, and just what would that be?” the tall one sneered.

“I've been asked to come here by Detective Stan Brookshire. The company I work for has been hired to protect Miss Woods upon her release from the hospital.”

The two uniforms looked at each other and then back at Bo.

“What is the name of the company that you work for? Shorty, I.D. him again,” relaxing a little.

“D.O.T. Recovery.”

“Recovery company?” The tension was back in a blink of an eye.

“Listen.” Bo held up his hands. “We are a recovery company, yes, but we are helping Miss Woods as a favor to Detective Brookshire.”

“Sure you are.” Suspicion and leeriness seeping into this voice, “Are you with the press?” Tallboy glared at him as Shorty turned away and spoke into his radio.

“I completely understand where you guys are coming from. I wouldn't trust anyone either, given the circumstances. You guys are doing your jobs same as I am.” Bo took a deep breath, reminding himself that the officers, while slightly annoying, were only doing their jobs. “Once your partner confirms what I've told you, you will see.”

His partner did not take his eyes off Bo. Minutes dragged on for what seemed like hours before Shorty returned to them and smiled.

“He's clear.”

Tallboy nodded and visibly relaxed his shoulders.

“We are very sorry about that.” Shorty reached out his hand to Bo, “I'm Tom Glavine and this here is Joe King.”

“Bo Jackson,” Bo reciprocated, shaking both men's hands.

“Like that football player?” Tom asked, smiling.

“Something like that.” Bo groaned inwardly. If he had a dollar for every time someone made that comment, he would never have to work another day in his life.

“Anything we can do to help you?” Joe offered.

“Nothing at the moment, but I'll speak to you once I've had the chance to introduce myself to Miss Woods.”

“Of course,” Jim said, suddenly cheery and stepping aside to allow Bo to enter the room.

He stepped into her room; the first bed just inside the door was empty. The curtains were drawn on the bed closest to the window.

“Miss Woods?” Bo said, stepping up to the wrong person.

“Who is it?” a woman's voice replied quietly.

“My name is Bo Jackson, Ma’am. I'm from the D.O.T.; Detective Brookshire sent me.” Bo figured it was best to get it all out at once after his little run in with the officers out front.

He waited for her to reply.

“Now, if this is a bad time, I can come back a little later.”

He could hear her sigh before she spoke.

“I would rather you just not come back at all, but I highly doubt that is going to happen.”

“I am sorry, Ma’am, but we both know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I know,” the disembodied voice replied.

Bo waited.

“You might as well come in since I can’t get rid of you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Bo said, parting the curtains and stepping inside.

He stopped. The picture they have been given had depicted a beautiful, strong-looking prosecutor, the kind of woman who cut you down with a glance.

The woman lying in the hospital bed shared the same high cheekbones and the plump lips, but gone was the perfectly dyed hair and the tough as nails stature.

She looked so helpless lying there, hooked up to I.V.s and monitors.

“What? You act like you've never seen a woman lying in a hospital bed before.” While her body might have been temporarily rendered helpless, there was no missing the fire in her brown eyes.

“My apologies, Ma'am,” Bo mumbled, momentarily losing his train of thought.

“Mr. Jackson, We are going to be spending a lot of time together in the coming weeks, correct?”

“Yes, as far as I'm aware, I will be with you until either they catch the person or the persons responsible, or until they believe the threat on your life has been neutralized.”

“Whatever,” she waved her hand, “And since we are going to be spending time together, there is one thing that you're going to have to do for me immediately.”

“Of course, what would you like?” He was confused briefly, but felt slightly curious as to what her request would be.

“You really need to stop calling me ‘ma'am’.”

*****

O
livia stared at him. He was a good-looking man. Clearly he spent a lot of time at the gym, based on his well-chiseled figure.

“Excuse me?” His deep brown eyes looked perplexed.

“I said that you are going to have to stop calling me ma'am if we are going to spend the next little while together.”

“Okay. Miss Woods—-” he started again before she cut him off.

“Please, Olivia.” She held up her good hand, wincing slightly as she shifted, causing a sharp pain in her bad shoulder.

“Olivia,” he repeated and stood there looking uncomfortable.

“Have a seat, you look absolutely ridiculous standing there, looking like that.”

He dutifully sat in the chair that the detective had been sitting in a short while before.

“So,” she said to him, “Are we just going to sit here in silence or do you have things you need to talk to me about?”

“Yes, I'm sorry I—-“

“I get it. From what I've learned in the last ten minutes, being someone's bodyguard isn't exactly what you signed up to do.”

He looked at her confused again.

“Good ears. I could hear you getting through the good old boys out there.”

He smiled.

“Good you
are
human.” She smiled back.

“Yes. We should discuss the plan for when you are discharged from the hospital.”

She nodded and let out a sigh. She was hoping that whatever was going on was over and dealt with before the doctor thought about releasing her. She wanted to get back to work.

“Ma’am?” His smooth voice cut through her thoughts.

“Olivia,” she said absently, thinking about what she needed to get done once she got herself back to the office. Her mind was not on whatever it was he was talking to her about.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No, I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“Bo Jackson, Ma-—Olivia.”

“Bo. Good.” She would have to try to remember that.

“Please don’t say anything about being related to the football player.” His face was serious but she could see a small twinkle in his eye.

Maybe this won’t be so bad
, she thought.

“What were you saying, Bo?” she asked, pulling her mind back to the task at hand.

“I was asking if you knew when they were thinking of letting you out of here?”

“I don’t know. They haven’t said. Although, if I had my way, it would be sooner rather than later.”

He nodded, “I understand.”

She looked at him, trying to make out what he was all about.
Quiet
was the first word that came to mind.
Brooding
was another. She wondered what sort of a man would make recovery work his job.

“So,“ she started in an effort to restart the conversation. The man was certainly not much of a conversationalist.

“We need to find out when they are letting you out. As soon as you know, you will have to make sure you let me or one of the other members of D.O.T. know.”

“You’re not going to be the one watching me the entire time?” She was sure the detective had said that there would be one bodyguard at all times.

A slight tremor in her stomach began. If there were more of them, how was she going to be able to tell them all from one another? How would she distinguish the people sent to protect her from the people who might come to do her harm?

“I am going to be the one with you most, if not all of the time. I only meant that if I was out taking care of things for your return home, and I was unreachable that you would be able to contact my associates in the meantime."

"For a second there, I thought that I was going to have to deal with more than one of you."

"I can assure you, one of us is more than enough."

"You said that you are from D.O.T. Recovery. What sort of recovery is that, that would need that sort of specialty?" she asked, finally finding her way into the line of questions she wanted to ask.

"We find things that people need finding, Ma’am."

"What sorts of things would need finding that would employ people who could double as a bodyguard?" she pressed.

"Sometimes things are taken by people who are less than scrupulous and we have to retrieve them and get them back to their rightful owners," he explained, looking at his hands.

She watched him rub his hands together. His fingers long, his palms had a slight callous to them. Definitely a man who used the weight room at the local gym.

"Sort of like pirates?" she asked quietly, still watching his fingers move slowly back and forth together.

"Hmm?" he asked looking up, their eyes met. Her breath caught in her throat, as their eyes locked for a moment.

"The people you have to track down, they are sort of like pirates?" She looked away at her own hands, immediately starting to pick at the tape on her I.V.

"Something like that, I guess you could say." He was still looking at her. She could feel the heat of his gaze.

What was he looking at? Surely she wasn’t anything to look at in the condition she was in at that moment.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked, returning his gaze, hoping to make him look away, but he held her eyes.

"Sometimes."

She nodded and looked away again. Her mind was all fuzzy and she blamed the drugs that they had her on for the pain. It made her angry that she had so little control over her mind. She was not used to being out of control.

"So, what do you do?" she asked, not looking up again, but fighting to keep him talking so she would have time to clear her head of some of the fog.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean for the company. What is your roll? Or are you simply just the hired gun?"

He laughed.

"You have a very odd perception of the way our company works."

"Well, you just said that you are in a recovery business and that you fight against pirates, and that sometimes it gets dangerous."

"I suppose I did, but how did you get that I am, as you called it, ‘a hired gun’ out of that?" His eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"You are the one your boss sent to be my bodyguard, so I would have to assume that you are the one with the most skill and experience in protecting someone from danger."

He didn’t say anything for a moment, she wondered if she had made him angry. Not that it really should have mattered to her, she honestly didn’t want him there in the first place, but there was something about him that had managed to disarm some of the hostility she’d originally had towards the idea.

That was one of her biggest weaknesses. Inside the courtroom, she was strong and almost ruthless with her job, there wasn’t anything she wasn’t willing to do to make sure that justice for the victims was had. But the second she stepped out of the courtroom, away from her office, she had this soft side to her that left her feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“I guess that is true,” he said abruptly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she apologized, realizing she might struck a nerve.

“Don’t worry about it. I really should get going,” he said, standing up. “I would like to head over to your apartment and have a look around and make sure it is safe and secure for you there.”

“Yes, of course.” She swallowed hard, his short tone striking at her already frayed nerves. “My keys are in drawer there.”

She motioned with her good hand to the side table.

He reached in and scooped her keys out.

“You really shouldn’t leave them so readily accessible when there is a threat on your life.” He glared at her.

“Well I didn’t think anyone would be so interested in my keys if they were able to get past the armed guards at my door.” She glared back; if he was going to be like that, two could play at that game.

He turned and started out of the room.

“What, no goodbye?” she snapped at his back.

He turned around and gave her a look before leaving without saying a word.

*****

B
o stormed out of Olivia’s room. What the hell was he thinking? There was no way that he was going to be able to do this. Cat was right. He wasn’t ready for this and he might never be ready.

“Everything alright?” Tim asked, as he left the room.

“Fine. Just going to head over to Miss Woods’ house now and make sure things are ready for her to come home.”

“She going home soon?” Joe asked.

“Not that I know of, but knowing my luck I’ll be the last to hear about it when it happens. The lady doesn’t like the idea of having a bodyguard.”

“Yeah, she does seem to be a bit on the feisty side,” Tim chuckled.

“Yeah,” Bo agreed. He wished he could get out of the hospital that moment but if he left too quickly, the cops might say something to Detective Brookshire and then he would never hear the end of it from Jake.

“If you need us please let us know,” Joe observed, “You seem to need to get on your way.”

“Yes, thank you.” Bo nodded and made his way back down the hall to the elevators. He could still feel the watchful eyes of the officers on him as he boarded the elevator.

In the elevator, he replayed the entire encounter with Olivia Woods. While she seemed helpless, she clearly wasn’t entirely. There was still quite a bit of spunk in her and she clearly was not going to be an easy asset to protect.

Not to mention, she asked too many questions. All of the others he had protected over the years had just let him do his job and not bothered with idle chatter, but this woman asked questions like he was a witness on the stand. Questions that he did not feel like answering.

Why he had agreed to this assignment against everything his mind was telling him was beyond his understanding.

He shook his head and got off the elevator.

After making his way through the pouring rain, he got into his jeep and took a deep breath before putting the key in the ignition. He was going to have to find a way to explain to Jake that there was no way that he was going to be able to continue with the assignment.