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Story: Near Miss

“Great, we have a plan.” Sophia tucked the thumb drive into her purse and stood.
“Hold up, ladies. Until we get to the bottom of this, you need to watch your six.” Nathan gestured at both women. “Give me your phones. I’ll program in secure, untraceable numbers for Lachlan and me. If we don’t hear all’s well in your world by designated check-in times, we’ll be coming after you weaponed up and with a bad attitude.”
Lachlan hid a smile.Crafty bastard. It wasn’t exactly what Lachlan was aiming for—he wanted Sophia to stay here and not return to her condo or LAI. But if Nathan planned to do what Lachlan thought, she wouldn’t be completely unprotected.
Nathan held his hand out to Emily first, a clear challenge in his eyes. Lachlan knew what his mate was doing. Emily had grown up with a SEAL for a father, who was probably paranoid as hell, like Nathan. His request wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to her.
And if Emily agreed to Nathan’s demands, Sophia would follow.
Emily gave Nathan a hard stare, then huffed out an irritated breath and slapped her phone into Nathan’s waiting palm.
Lachlan held Sophia’s gaze.Make the right choice.After a moment’s hesitation, Sophia handed over her phone.
Bloody brilliant, mate. His friend had known just how to play it.
Nathan stood from the table, both phones engulfed in his massive palm. “Keep your daddy out of this, Miss Dane,” he growled, “We don’t need a retired Navy admiral sticking his nose into Lachlan’s business.”
Emily narrowed her eyes like she wanted to run her father’s ceremonial sword through Nathan. “Mydaddy, as you put it in your charming colloquial way, does not need to protect Sophia or me.” She glared at Lachlan. “And it’s not my place to tell him about Lachlan’s miraculous resurrection.”
Her tone would shrivel most men’s balls. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the big Texan. Nathan was fighting a grin.
Silence blanketed the room as Nathan excused himself to his war room. He returned a few minutes later and handed the women their phones. They gathered their coats and purses.
Pressure built behind Lachlan’s eyes, and his lungs squeezed tight. He didn’t like this plan. He was a damn prisoner in Nathan’s home, relying on other people to prove his innocence.
If anything happened to Sophia…
“Lachlan?” A soft hand on his arm brought his gaze to Sophia’s. “We’re leaving now.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He and Nathan followed the women out to Sophia’s car.
Nathan, the tosser, leaned his forearms on Sophia’s open window. “You can visit me anytime, sweetheart.” The arsehole winked at her, then shot Lachlan a sly grin.
Lachlan made sure Nathan saw the fuck you in his eyes and ignored the other man’s chuckle before bending down to peer in at Sophia. “I’ll be seeing ya soon.” It was both a warning and a promise. Sophia would not be collateral damage.
He stepped away, his gaze following her down the driveway until she rounded the bend, and Nathan’s woodland buffer obscured his line of vision. “Did you put a tracker on their phones and Sophia’s car?”
Nathan snorted. “I’m offended you had to ask.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Billiardswasananomalyin the otherwise tony DC suburb of McLean, Virginia. True to its name, the dive bar boasted three pool tables down the center of the room, two dartboards on opposite sides of the bar, and mismatched worn wooden tables and chairs planted along the walls. A permanent haze of smoke fogged the air, clinging to the clothes and hair of anyone who passed through the doors.
Respectable people didn’t come to Billiards. People who didn’t want to be seen—or didn’t fit the definition of polite society—did. It was one of Nathan’s favorite places. Lachlan could see why. The former SEAL fit right in.
Tugging the bill of his ball cap lower, Lachlan followed Nathan through the haze to the bar. The bartender, a bloke with a crooked nose and cauliflower ears, took their orders and dropped two mugs of cold American brew on the sticky wooden surface before giving the counter a cursory wipe.
In the bar mirror, Lachlan sized up six members of a local motorcycle club shooting pool at the center table. Other than a slight tilt of their heads to Nathan when he walked in, they ignored them. The remaining occupants were a waitress with blonde hair, black roots and tired eyes and a sullen middle-aged man in a cheap suit perched on a stool at the rail. Neither gave him or Nathan more than a passing glance.
He threw down some cash for the beers. Nathan made his way to a table in the back corner, away from the activity at the billiard table, and sat, facing the door. He opened his laptop and began tapping away at the keys.
Lachlan joined him, his back to the side wall so he could view the bikers and the front door. “This is your office away from home?”
Nathan huffed out a laugh. “Hey, don’t knock it. No one bothers me, and the food’s pretty decent. Every once in a while, I need a change of scenery.”
The waitress approached their table and gave Nathan a genuine smile. “Hey, handsome, I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Lachlan kept his head down and avoided eye contact. It was better that she not get a good look at him or the cuts and scrapes decorating his mug. Once the police discovered he hadn’t been the one to die in his car, his face would likely be all over the evening news programs.