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THE PROTECTOR

I went to the bathroom to jerk off. I can’t believe I held so much frustration in me once again. I had to relieve myself. I jerked off like a man who hasn’t had sex in a year.

It’s not possible for a man like me, especially one who has such a beauty by his side. To put my big, fat cock inside of her and let her ride me until sunset. But if I did that, then we won’t leave this motel room. I need to find Ruslan’s killer, I can’t get distracted, not again.

I realize now why my brother struggled with her around, the more time I spend with her, the more I realize she is a temptation. No man can resist, no matter how hard I tries. When I think I know her, then she does something else to surprise me. Something new to keep me on my feet.

We’re not staying in the motel, so as soon as I get out of the bathroom, I make sure Penelope gets dressed so we can head back to the cabin. There we have our own rooms and we can be safe, I don’t get what time we get there, because as I think about the cabin my mind already starts to focus on the task at hand, finding the killer.

The road ahead is dark and empty, with only the hum of the engine cutting through the silence. Penelope sits in the passenger seat, quiet, staring out the window with a distant look in which she gets when she doesn’t know what to say. She wanted to be punished and I gave it to her back in the motel. I don’t like the way she’s trying to test me at the moment.

I’m not a man to be pushed.

“We need to find this killer to protect you,” I remind her.

Once again she ignores me as she sits in the car.

Does she want another punishment?

I don’t have time for these types of games. Not right now. I’ve been distracted enough, so I keep one hand on the wheel, and the other resting on my thigh.

I turn on the radio just so I can think about anything else but Penelope. Then my burner phone buzzes, and I glance at it, not recognizing the number flashing across the screen. Noah’s the only one with this number, he’s calling me from his burner phone, but why during the early hours of the night?

I pick up, pressing the phone to my ear. “What happened?”

“Jamie, it’s Molly. There has been an accident.”

What the fuck? When?

My grip on the wheel tightens, the leather creaking under my fingers. “What do you mean, an accident?”

“I—I don’t know exactly,” she stammers. “We were driving back from the hotel , and someone—someone ran us off the road. He’s at the hospital. Jamie, I think… I think it wasn’t an accident.”

Of course, it wasn’t. We’ve been grieving and I’ve been messing around with Penelope and not concentrating on matters, important matters like there being a killer out there who killed my brother and is probably the same person who wants to kill Penelope.

I can feel the heat rising in my chest, my pulse hammering in my ears. “Which hospital?” I demand.

She rattles off the name, but I barely hear it because I'm pressing down harder on the gas pedal, debating whether to turn back and drop Penelope in the motel.

“Just text me the address, I’ll figure it out!” Then I hang up.

Penelope looks over at me, sensing the shift in my mood, her eyes wide with exhaustion and concern. She heard the panic in my voice and saw the way I was driving. She knows something is wrong.

“What happened?” Penelope asks softly.

I don’t answer right away. I can’t. I’m too busy trying to keep my anger in check. “Noah’s in the hospital. Someone ran him off the road.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything. She just looks down at her hands, twisting them together in her lap. I can tell she’s scared, and for a second, I feel guilty for not paying better attention to this, but there’s no way out now. Not for either of us.

The cabin’s too far. There’s no way I can drop her off and make it back in time. It’s too risky to take her to the hospital with me, but then I can’t leave her anywhere, because like Molly said, it doesn’t seem like an accident.

I can spin around and be back at the motel in around twenty minutes. That’s the best thing to do.

“I’ll drop you off back at the motel. Get some takeout. Get some sleep. I’ll come back once I know what’s going on.”

“Jamie, I don’t want to—”

“I’ll be back,” I cut her off, after spinning the car around.

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” I warn her.

She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the exhaustion warring with the fear in her eyes. But finally, she nods, understanding that arguing isn’t going to get her anywhere.

It doesn’t take long to get there, once I pull up at the parking lot I step out of the car and round to her side, opening the door for her. She moves slowly, her body stiff, and I place a steady hand on her lower back as I guide her inside. The lobby smells like stale cigarettes and cheap coffee, and the obsessed TikTok receptionist barely glances at us as I check her in, she probably doesn’t recognize us from earlier.

Once we’re in the room, I watch as she sinks onto the bed. She looks up at me, I can see the hurt in her eyes, she’s probably thinking that I’m leaving her again. Just like I did at the cabin, even after all we’ve been through . “Be careful,” she says quietly.

I nod once. “Order something to eat. Lock the door behind me.”

She doesn’t argue, so it’s my cue to leave.

Back in the car, I push the gas harder than I should. The hospital isn’t far now, and I can already feel the anger building inside me. Someone tried to get to Noah, and I’m going to find out who. If only I’d paid better attention to what he was saying about the organ trafficking.

I think back to everything he said, he said this guy was working with him. I have his number too, but for now I need to see Noah. Ruslan would come back from the dead, if something happened to him. He would kill me, for messing with Penelope and nearly getting Noah killed.

Fuck!

When I pull into the hospital parking lot, I don’t even turn off the engine before I’m out of the car and moving, my boots hit the pavement hard. The sliding doors hiss open, and the bright fluorescent lights inside make me squint.

I spot Molly first. She’s pacing the waiting area, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face is streaked with dried tears. The moment she sees me, she rushes over.

“They said he’s stable,” she says, barely able to get the words out. “But Jamie… they think it wasn’t an accident. They said the brakes were tampered with.”

“When did this happen? How did they have time to mess around with the brakes?”

She shrugs, of course she doesn’t know.

“Shit!”

Molly could have been followed from the airport, and she doesn’t know how to be cautious, because she’s not trained like us. She innocently came to the funeral to support her boyfriend, how was she supposed to know that she put him in danger.

This is why in our business, it’s better if we don’t have any family, if we do then they always end up being killed or being used as bait.

My jaw clenches, and I look past her toward the hallway. “Where is he?”

She gestures down the hall, and I don’t wait for permission. I storm down the hallway, pushing past nurses and orderlies until I find Noah’s room.

He’s lying in the hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his head, bruises blooming across his face. He looks up when I walk in, and despite the pain, there’s something sharp in his eyes.

“They tried to take me out,” he says hoarsely, his voice scratchy from the oxygen tube. “But they didn’t do a good enough job.”

I step closer, gripping the edge of the bed. “Who?”

Noah shakes his head. “I don’t know yet. But I’m gonna find out.”

I nod slowly, the rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Not if I find them first.”

N oah’s chest rises and falls in time to the rhythm of the machines that he’s hooked up to. His breath is steady, his face is pale and he has bruises from the crash on his jaw

He’s alive. Well barely. Without the machines keeping him alive, then he would be dead in a heartbeat. I curl my fist into a ball wanting to hit someone, tear them limb-from-limb for putting him in this state, when really the only person I blame is myself.

My obsession with Penelope led me to be careless, just like it did with my brother, which is why he’s dead and I’m still alive, but not for long if I keep up like this.

My fingers grip the edge of the chair by the bed, but my mind is elsewhere—on Penelope. The door opens slowly, and Molly steps in, her face taut, her lips pressed together as she avoids staring at Noah. The idea of seeing him like this is probably too much for her to bear.

Her voice is low, almost too soft for the sterile quiet of the room. “There’s a message from Logan.” She pauses, glancing at Noah’s semi-unconscious form, and then meets my eyes.

Logan?

Shit, he’s the guy, Noah’s working with, once again my mind is elsewhere and not concentrating on the task at hand. It’s simple. Find the killer and then all this comes to an end. Yet, I’m too emotionally involved to do that right. I visualize Penelope in the motel room not able to defend herself, but then Noah could be the target too?

Why else did they go to so much trouble to tamper with his car?

“What is it?”

She hesitates, then takes a breath, and then the words fall from her lips, each one cutting through the air like a blade.

“There are tons of photos of Penelope on the Deputy’s social media page,” Molly says, voice barely a whisper. “He’s got pictures of her everywhere. Even a photo of them together on Halloween. He’s wearing some Jason mask and she’s Harley Quinn in a diner or something like that.”

What?

The words don’t register immediately, like they don’t fit together in my brain. The Sheriff’s son?

“What?” My voice is hoarse, like I’ve been holding my breath for too long. What does this mean?

Molly nods grimly, her face pale. “Logan says it looks like an obsession. He’s been posting about her for months, just over a year. She’s on his page all the time—different angles, different places. It’s like he’s watching her, studying her. Logan’s worried he might be stalking her.”

It’s not just some random guy. It’s the deputy . The bastard who kept mentioning Penelope’s green eyes, the one who wouldn’t stop talking about her like he memorized every detail of her.

I shake my head, my stomach flipping with realization.

“That’s it,” I growl, the words coming out in a rush. “It’s the Deputy. He’s obsessed with her.”

Molly’s eyes widen in shock. “Jamie, what are you—?”

“Noah’s accident,” I cut her off, my voice tight with cold realization, “It wasn’t an accident. It was a goddamn distraction. He wanted me out of the way. He wanted me here, stuck in this damn hospital, while he went after Penelope.”

The words hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking me off my feet. Penelope’s in danger ,and I was too damn distracted to notice it.

My legs are already moving before I can even finish speaking, boots thudding hard against the sterile floor as I storm through the halls. I need to get to her. Now.

I’m running on instinct, on adrenaline. The motel isn’t far, but every second that ticks by feels like a missed opportunity, because I’ve been by Noah’s bedside for hours. The night has turned into day, I don’t even know if she’s alive. I should have left her with a phone. A way to communicate, but my mind was on Noah, I’m always one step behind at the moment.

I jump into my car and drive at the speed of lightning, avoiding lights and nearly crashing as I try to contain my anger and fear. I need to maintain them because if I don’t—and I don’t reach the motel at all—I don’t even want to think about what is going to happen to her.

I won’t fucking let it!

I can see the faded neon sign flickering in the distance, giving me some comfort that I’m here, but I don’t know what I’ll find in the room.

I have to be hopeful.

And pray that she isn’t hurt, because if they touch one strand on her beautiful dark hair. I’ll make everyone suffer for it. They won’t know what has hit them, but they’ll fucking find out.