Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1)
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Authors: April Wilson
Vulnerable
McIntyre Security – Book 1
by
April Wilson
Copyright
©
2015 April E. Barnswell
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by April E. Barnswell
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations to be used in book reviews.
This novel is a work of fiction. All places and locations are used fictitiously. The names of characters and places are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people or real places is purely a coincidence.
* This romance novel contains explicit sexual content and is appropriate for readers 18+ yrs of age.
Vulnerable
is a full-length (400+ pages) standalone HEA novel, with a sequel in the works.
It’s also the first book in an ongoing series, the McIntyre Security series. If you love hot alpha protectors, and a little bit of suspense, this book just might be for you. *
Dedication:
To my muse, for sticking with me all these years.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
She found herself wandering aimlessly through the library, wondering what she was doing here so late. It was well past closing time, and all the lights were off. Moonlight streaming through the windows cast long, sinister shadows on every surface.
Beth shivered, then looked down at herself and realized she was naked.
Oh, it’s just a dream. Don’t panic. But that was easier said than done when she heard the heavy footsteps.
Oh, no. Not again!
She searched frantically for a place to hide, running through the tall stacks of books, her heart thundering painfully. When she came to the double doors that led to the stairwell, she pushed through them. It was pitch black in there. He’d never find her. The doors closed behind her with a resounding clang. Shit! Quiet!
The footsteps grew louder. They were heavy, dull thuds on the polished floors, drawing ominously closer.
She was cold, and her body shook uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around her naked torso, as much for comfort as for warmth. Too late, she realized the footsteps were coming up the stairs. Oh, God, he’s in the stairwell!
As she backed into the corner, she walked right into a pair of bruising hands that gripped her arms hard.
“There you are, little bitch,” he said, in that gravelly voice she’d never been able to forget. “You can’t hide from me. Haven’t you learned that by now?” He pushed her down to the cold cement floor.
No! Not again!
She screamed.
“Beth, wake up!”
Her first instinct was to fight the slender hands that pinned her down. Beth yanked her hands free and began to batter the dark shape hovering over her.
“Ow!” cried an outraged female voice when Beth’s fist connected with something soft. “Beth, stop! It’s me!”
Her eyes shot open, and she was practically blinded by the overhead light. She tried to sit up, but a pair of determined hands pinned her to the bed.
Beth looked up into a pale, freckled face framed with sleep-mussed red hair. “Gabrielle!” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt, and her lungs felt tight. Too tight, as if they were being squeezed in a vise. “Can’t breathe!” she wheezed, groping blindly for the top drawer of her nightstand.
Gabrielle leaned over and opened the drawer, grabbing Beth’s rescue inhaler. “I’ve got it. Relax.”
Gabrielle shook the inhaler, then angled it at Beth’s mouth. Beth pulled the inhaler into her mouth and administered the medication. Then she lay back and closed her eyes while the medication did its job. And just like that, all the fight left her.
“Are you okay?” Gabrielle said, returning the inhaler to the drawer.
“Yes,” Beth rasped, taking a hesitant breath. She pulled the quilt up to her chest.
Gabrielle turned off the bedroom light and crawled into bed, slipping beneath the covers. She rolled Beth to her side and spooned behind her. “It’s okay,” Gabrielle said, stroking Beth’s hair back from her hot, damp face. “You’re safe.”
“He found me in the library.” Beth tried to suppress the echo of the terror she’d felt. “I was in the stairwell and it was dark. He grabbed me.”
Gabrielle wrapped her arm around Beth’s waist and snuggled up against her. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”
Beth began to shake, a delayed reaction to the surge of adrenalin. She felt chilled to the bone, despite having a sheet and a quilt covering her. Even Gabrielle’s body heat wasn’t enough to warm her. Those god-awful nightmares always left her feeling so vulnerable. The shaking intensified.
“Go back to sleep, Beth,” Gabrielle said as she tightened her arm around Beth’s waist. “I’ll stay with you tonight.”
Faint light spilled into Beth’s bedroom from the hallway, but Gabrielle didn’t bother to get up and turn it off. Beth always slept better with a light on.
* * *
“Shane? Detective Jamison’s here to see you. Shall I send him in?”
Shane McIntyre turned away from the surveillance report he’d been reading on his computer and looked up at his executive assistant. “Thanks, Diane. Send him in.”
Chicago Homicide Detective Tyler Jamison walked into Shane’s office and paused just over the threshold. The man was dressed in his trademark black suit and tie, crisp white dress shirt, and polished black loafers. He was tall, with a trim, muscular build. His dark hair was cut short, tidy and conservative like everything about him.
Tyler glanced around the spacious, high-rise corner office, his sharp gaze taking in the modern furnishings and the million-dollar view of N. Michigan Avenue. He eyed Shane accusingly. “Apparently I’m in the wrong business.”
“Hello, Detective,” Shane said, unfazed by the man’s disapproving tone. He rose from his chair and met Tyler halfway, extending his hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you.”
Tyler nodded brusquely as they shook hands. “Shane.”
While the two men had crossed paths professionally many times, they weren’t exactly friends. Their respective careers brought them together with some regularity, but their personalities were too much at odds to allow for an easy friendship. Tyler Jamison was a stickler for doing things by-the-book, while Shane’s motto was more along the lines of
do whatever it takes
. The two men usually ended up butting heads, but they’d always managed to keep things professional between them.
“Have a seat, Tyler,” Shane said, returning to his desk chair. “What can I do for you?”
Tyler sat in one of two chairs parked in front of Shane’s desk. “I’m here on a personal matter.”
Shane leaned back in his own chair, not bothering to hide his surprise. Tyler Jamison never mixed professional and personal. “Okay. What do you need?”
“I want to hire your firm.” Tyler laid a black leather portfolio on Shane’s desk and opened it, withdrawing two manila folders. “I have two subjects here. One requires around-the-clock protection. The other – well, I’m hoping you can help me send him back to prison.”
Shane picked up the first folder and opened it. An 8x10 color photograph of a young woman’s face was clipped inside the front cover. It was a candid shot, and the subject looked pensive. The girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, had long, pale blond hair and blue-green eyes – she was a stunning mix of innocence and sensuality.
Shane glanced up sharply at Tyler. “Who is she?” But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew. It was in the eyes. Tyler and this girl had the same ethereal blue-green eyes.
“She’s my sister,” Tyler said. “Beth.”
“I’m guessing she’s the one who needs protection,” Shane said, frowning as he studied her photograph.
Tyler nodded, his expression tight. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Shane took one last look at the young woman’s photograph. She had an oval face, a smooth pale complexion, and lush, full lips that would undoubtedly bring some lucky bastard to his knees. But it was her eyes that grabbed his attention. He could get lost in those eyes. “How old is she?”
“Twenty-four.”
Shane knew Tyler had to be in his early forties, which made him old enough to be this girl’s father. “And she’s your
sister
?”
“Yes,” Tyler said, interpreting the skeptical look on Shane’s face. “She was a late surprise for our parents.”
Shane laid down the girl’s folder and picked up the other one. It contained a booking mugshot of an overweight man in his mid-40s, with pale splotchy skin, heavy jowls, and a greasy brown comb-over. The man’s dark eyes were bloodshot and watery.
Shane peered up at Tyler, a sick feeling in his gut. He knew where this was going; otherwise Tyler wouldn’t be here. “And this guy?”
“Howard Kline,” Tyler said. “He’s the bastard who abducted Beth from her front yard when she was six years old. A neighbor remembered seeing a plumbing van parked outside our house at the time of the abduction. We were able to track the kidnapper – and Beth – through the van. That’s him eighteen years ago.”
Shane scanned the attached report on Howard Kline. Kline had been living on a farm with his widowed mother at the time. He was convicted on multiple counts and sentenced to 30 years in prison. Just looking at the smug expression on the bastard’s face made Shane see red.
“We located her about twelve hours later,” Tyler said. “I was a uniformed officer then, fresh out of the academy. I was the one who broke down that cellar door and found her bound and gagged, lying naked on a dirt floor. She suffered from severe hypothermia and dehydration, but she was otherwise uninjured. Thank God.”
Tyler swallowed hard, his eyes radiating pain. “Some nights I can’t sleep for thinking about what might’ve happened to her if we hadn’t found her so quickly.”