Page 21 of Defending Love
Chapter Twenty
Eli
I stayed with Dani until she drifted to sleep.
My body wanted to stay at her side, but that letter had my thoughts spiraling.
There was a secret to learn. Since the fake FBI agents were involved, I could only assume they were the ones who didn’t want the secret to get out, or quite possibly, they were paid by someone to let the secret die with Derek Sinclair.
Dani had a long day with her mother tomorrow and sleep would be best. I, on the other hand, functioned without the recommended eight hours. On most nights, during an assignment, I was lucky to get four hours.
Dani’s questions also had me wondering.
How did the fake agents know I’d have Guardian Security equipment? It wasn’t like we drove around in panel vans with the company logo on the side. How did they know where we were staying? How did they find us here?
The obvious possibility was an improbability.
The other souls from Guardian Security; there was the owner, Ben, the lead on this assignment, Larry, Jack Webb, and Brian, his night- shift replacement.
There was Melinda—though she wouldn’t know where we were currently staying.
And then there was Ella’s guard in Indianapolis, Deidra Burton.
I’d worked with Deidra on many assignments over the years.
I couldn’t let myself believe that any of those individuals would compromise an assignment.
Not one person on that list spiked my suspicions.
My thoughts searched for possibilities outside of Guardian Security.
There were people from the hospital and physical-rehab facility that were privy to the name of our company—again they wouldn’t know where we were staying.
We’d told the two county deputies earlier in the day that I worked for Guardian Security.
Could the county sheriff’s department be in cahoots with the fake agents?
As more questions emerged, I recalled Dani’s stories about Sinclair Pharmaceuticals, the dark Darius days, and Propanolol. The scientist who made it all happen.
I ran a search on Dr. David Carpenter.
His name wasn’t unique. There were numerous physicians with the same name throughout the country. There was an OB-GYN in Washington State. But the David Carpenter Dani mentioned wouldn’t be alive. Dani said he’d passed away. My next search was for David Carpenter, obituary, Indianapolis, Indiana.
Bingo.
The information was short—too short.
David J. Carpenter passed away in Avon, Indiana, at the age of 51.
He was born in Carmel, Indiana, to Donald and Carol Carpenter.
He married Brenda Marie Olsen Carpenter.
Together they had three children: Eric Carpenter, Julie (Michael Sawell), and Louisa (Grant Hills).
David’s journey included achieving Lieutenant in the US Navy, PhD in molecular fusion, and a fellowship at Indianapolis University Research.
David was survived by his mother, wife, children, and four grandchildren.
Donations can be made to the Foundation for Medical Research.
Why wouldn’t they mention his prestigious work for Sinclair Pharmaceuticals?
By two in the morning, I left the computers running with more searches as I went to the bedroom across the hallway from Dani’s room. In the hallway, I paused and looked inside her room, remembering every second of what we’d done a few hours earlier.
While Dani was currently asleep, she must have woken up at some point.
No longer was she as I’d left her, fully nude.
Curled up under a sheet, I saw she was wearing her tank top and panties.
The lamp near the bed, the one that I’d turned off, was again shining.
Lying next to her in the bed was the open photo album from her father’s safe.
Moving the album to the bedside stand, I turned off her light.
For a moment I hesitated, wanting to bend down and leave a kiss on Dani’s cheek.
My reason for not doing that was complicated.
For the first time in years, I not only wanted to protect a woman, but I desired more.
Having Dani in my arms was invigorating.
Touching and caressing her opened a part of my soul that I’d kept closed and buried since the day I’d put my heart on lockdown.
What happened earlier tonight fractured that hard dark cover I’d secured around my heart.
Dani had blown that casing to smithereens.
There was debris to tend to if I were to move forward.
Back in my bedroom, I opened my satchel and took out my personal laptop. It was something I always carried with me, yet I never used it for work purposes. As I brought the computer to life, a battle raged within me.
I needed to do this.
I owed it to both of them.
Using my fingerprint, I opened the computer.
The file wasn’t difficult to find, even though I hadn’t accessed it in ages.
Another code was needed to open the folder.
My heart clenched in my chest as Amy’s face filled the screen.
The photograph was a casual shot, a picture I’d taken only days before her death.
Her curly blond hair blew in the breeze, and her lips were upturned in a smile.
We’d been hiking at a state park in Oregon.
Little did we realize during that moment that soon we’d be called for the same job.
Amy wasn’t my assignment; she was my coworker, a fellow Guardian Securities bodyguard.
It was a line that never should have been blurred.
Like myself, Amy had prior military experience.
Her skills on a shooting range exceeded—hell, anyone else’s.
My assignment was a client in witness protection.
He’d turned state’s evidence against a powerful man with underworld connections.
The client was scheduled to testify in a federal trial on the second day of our assignments.
I was assigned to the man testifying. Amy was assigned his wife.
The transfer to the courthouse was supposed to be routine. The plan was to take two cars to the courthouse. I knew Amy was capable. We both completed our routine pre-inspection of the cars, discussed the best routes.
A normal day.
At the last minute, we decided to switch vehicles as an extra safety measure. My assignment and I made it to the courthouse. Amy and her assignment didn’t.
An incendiary device had been placed into the gas tank in the car I should have been driving. Even my complete inspection of the vehicle failed to find it. On their way to the courthouse, the device was activated.
“I miss you,” I whispered, or spoke in my mind.
I wasn’t sure. Reaching out, I touched the screen.
“I meant everything I said to you. I saw a future for us. I wanted that. You were stolen away, and I swore I could never love again.” I inhaled.
“I think I was wrong. There’s something about Dani.
” My cheeks rose. “I think you’d like her.
She’s strong like you. You’d kick her ass on a firing range, but she’d kick yours in a research lab.
I guess I just wanted to tell you that for the first time since you left me, I want to smile.
I want to protect her and keep her safe.
I guess I’m talking to you, to defend my right to love.
That doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget you. I won’t.
I’ve been given another chance, and I promise you and Dani, I won’t make the same mistake.
I won’t let my love for her blur the lines in a way that could risk her life. ”
For a moment, I stared at Amy’s picture, knowing it would be the last time I saw it. “I hope you can rest peacefully, knowing I’m trying to live, trying for more than work, and also trying to remember what love is. I owe you that.”
I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched the screen. My chest ached as I deleted the folder. As difficult as it was to say the final goodbye, it wasn’t fair to Dani for me to hold on to my past.
Dani and I had talked about grieving. I knew the process well.
As I shut down the laptop, I took off the gold band from my left hand. I hadn’t lied to Dani. I’d never married. That ring worked for the reason I told people. It also reminded me that at one time I’d wanted to marry.
I still did, but if it happened, that commitment deserved a new ring.
I made myself a promise. If Dr. Danielle Sinclair would have me in her life after this assignment was complete, I’d stay.
Because as much as I tried to walk away from her a year ago, the pull to return was too strong. I’d find who killed her father and was terrorizing her family, and after that, I’d devote myself not only to her safety but to her happiness.
One more sweep of the doors and windows, and I stripped to my boxer shorts and slipped under the covers. If I had my way, it would be one of the last nights I slept alone.