Page 5 of Rescuing Erin (Red Team #5)

Colin, being the perceptive man he was, caught on that I was done talking about Olivia, and with a sigh you’d expect from a five-year-old not getting his way, he got out of the car.

I knew better than to exit without him scanning the area first and then opening my door.

I’d been scolded enough in the past I didn’t think I’d ever open my own door again.

Even if I thought he was being overly cautious, it wasn’t worth another argument.

He led us into the house and went straight for the alarm panel before turning back to me.

“Hungry?”

We’d skipped lunch while on post, and I was starving. “Yeah. I’ll cook tonight. You did it last night.”

“Do you know how?”

“Why would you ask that? Do you really think I’m some spoiled bitch who’s been pampered my whole life?”

I hated that he thought so poorly of me. I shouldn’t have cared, but it rankled he constantly mistook me for a mollycoddled girl who’d never done anything for herself.

“It has nothing to do with me thinking you’re spoiled and everything to do with being hungry.”

“Sure, it does.”

Not wanting to debate the state of his hunger, or how he’d placed me in this box of affluent indulgence where people waited on me hand and foot, I went into the kitchen.

I searched the fridge and pantry and found both well-stocked.

Figuring Colin was a steak and potatoes kind of guy, I pulled out everything I needed and went to work.

The mundane task reminded me of my mom and the time we’d spent in the kitchen together when I was younger.

She’d always told me the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach and while she thought a woman should and could do anything she wanted outside of the home, it was still important to know how to run a household.

When my father became president, our time in the kitchen was one of the many things that had changed.

My mom had happily taken on more responsibility in my father’s White House.

She refused to become what the media had portrayed her as, nothing more than arm candy.

It was true my mom was stunning, but she was smart, too, and played an active role in many goodwill trips overseas.

Unfortunately, that left me locked inside the confines of the White House grounds most of the time.

Complaining about my upbringing or the luxuries I’d been afforded because of who my parents were made me sound like an entitled cow.

But I wasn’t. I was very aware of all the extras I’d received and the top-notch education.

However, other than the grades I’d received while in school, I hadn’t earned anything, it was all given to me, and I didn’t like that.

Even the apartment I lived in was well above what I could pay, but the building was chosen for me because the agents that guarded me deemed it safe.

So my father paid for it. He also paid for my car.

My college education was taken care of by them as well.

I was an adult and still living off Mommy and Daddy. Most days I felt like a failure.

An hour later dinner was ready and on the table, and I went in search of Colin.

I found him in a downstairs office, I scanned the space, noting there were no personal items in this room either.

The whole house had been furnished but looked like it was staged to sell, rather than to live in.

No part of the house told me about the man who resided there.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay.”

If he hadn’t been so caught up in what he was looking at, I would’ve found his lack of attention rude, but when I got a look at the images spread out over the desk in front of him, I felt like I was going to vomit.

“What are those?”

“Pictures that were sent to your father today. They obviously didn’t make it to his desk, but they were given to the secret service.”

“They’re of me.” I knew my voice sounded shrill, but it wasn’t every day I saw surveillance images of myself. “Who took those?”

“No clue. Zane and the team are analyzing them now.”

I stepped closer, getting a better look. “Who in the world would want to take pictures of me getting in and out of a car?”

“To prove they can. Or to show how close they’d been to you. These were not taken with a high-powered lens.”

“These are from a lunch meeting with the board of Hope for All.” I pointed to three pictures grouped together. “There you are in the back. We were in the private conference room.”

“Yes they were. Other than the men you were meeting with, the only other people in the room were the two waiters.”

He was right. We’d been discussing donations and opted to eat lunch away from the crowded dining room of the hotel where our monthly meetings were held.

“Wait. A woman came in right at the beginning to give Mr. George a message. Look, there’s no food on the table yet. These had to be taken before the servers came in to deliver our lunch, and my day planner is still in front of me on the table. I put that away when lunch was served.”

Colin picked up one of the glossy, four-by-six images and gave it a thorough examination.

“Fuck, you’re right. I totally missed the timing. Good eye.”

Something that felt a lot like happiness swelled inside of me. It was nice to be on the receiving end of his praise for once.

“Maybe if you kept me in the loop I could be of more help. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

His gaze shifted from the picture to me. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Erin. Far from it. I haven’t told you everything because there’s no reason to cause you unnecessary stress. It’s not only my job to keep you safe, but to allow you to continue to live your life as normally as possible.”

“Normal? You call having people following me all day, every day, normal? I don’t even remember what normal feels like.”

I had no control over my own life. I hadn’t for the last seven years.

At least when I was a kid, before we moved to Washington, I had the same freedoms all the other kids my age had.

Then D.C. happened, and I wasn’t just any other teenager, I was the first daughter, fair game for the tabloids and news outlets to take potshots at.

My whole life was under the microscope. It fucking sucked.