Sworn to Protect Page 2

  Grisham and I file out the metal sliding door into the lobby.

  Ronin “Swagger” Shaw claps me on the back as soon as the office door is closed. “Nice, guys. Heard you kicked some ass.” I accept congratulations from the man who’s been my teammate and best friend for years. First the army, then the police academy, then NES after we met Jacob while working on a kidnapping case.

  Dare “Wheels” Conners, our other teammate and the man who can drive anything out there like a goddamn stuntman, follows suit with a fist bump.

  When I’m in this office, in my city, with my people, I’m home. There’re no surprises, no unexpected bullshit the way there is when I’m on a mission. It’s how I like it.

  And it feels good to be home again.

  But as I’m back in North Carolina, weaving through the Wilmington streets on my drive home, my brain drifts back to long, black hair, flawless, olive skin, and the endless sea of blue eyes I once almost drowned in.

  It couldn’t have been her.

  2

  Rayne

  The cab pulls up to a cute Colonial-style home with a manicured yard. Bright flowers dot the mulch-hugged beds, and the house is a crisp white, gleaming against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. Black shutters and a red front door complete the picture-perfect look. It’s my first time seeing the place, but the perfection is less than shocking. My sister’s home is right out of a magazine. I wouldn’t expect anything less.

  It’s a far cry from my tiny little Mediterranean I’d been renting in Phoenix. The scrubby landscape there meant no flowers or bright green grass, even though my tastes are a lot more eclectic than my sister’s.

  The Uber driver drops us off in the driveway and gives us a wave before heading back down the street.

  My son, Decker, and I stare up at the house. There’s resignation on my face, while his holds nothing but eight-year-old curiosity.

  “So this is where Aunt Olive lives?”

  I nod, rolling my lips between my teeth. “Yup.”

  Neither of us moves toward the house.

  “Did you live here when you were little, Mom?” Decker is staring at the house like it’s a possibility Captain America lives inside.

  Shaking my head, I put my arm around him and squeeze. “No, sweetie. Mommy and Aunt Olive lived at a different house in Wilmington when we were growing up.”

  The house where I lived with your grandparents, who I haven’t spoken to since I got pregnant with you.

  “And,” I remind him, “your aunt is in Europe for a few more months for work. She said we could stay here as long as we want.”

  He glances at me, and I melt the way I do every single time I look at him. The kid is beautiful. An olive complexion that matches mine, but with hair a shade lighter. He keeps it long, the ends touching his collar, and his locks are thick and lustrous. His deep-set eyes are the most beautiful shade of jade green. Like his father’s. When I stare into them, it takes me back to the best and worst time in my life. His thick, long lashes brush his cheeks as he glances down.

  “I’m gonna miss my friends.”

  Getting down on my knees on the cement so that I can face him at eye level, I offer him a soft smile. “I know, baby. And I’m sorry about that. You’re going to make new friends here, I promise. And you’re gonna love the beach.”

  His expression brightens. “Yeah? Can I learn how to surf?”

  Closing my eyes briefly, I mutter a curse.

  “Mom…you said a bad word. You gotta put a quarter in the jar.”

  Standing, I circle an arm around his shoulders and pull him toward the house. “See baby? The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

  Putting in the automatic door code, I let Decker and I into the garage and then the house.

  The house is pristine. I don’t see a speck of dirt or dust anywhere, and I know for a fact I won’t be able to keep up the standard of living Olive does. We’ve always been so different. It’s glaringly obvious when I’m in her house.

  “Whoa,” whispers Decker, his eyes wide. “Mom? I think we’re gonna get it dirty in here.”

  Patting his back, I nod. “Yeah, Deck. I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

  A couple hours later finds us settled in, Decker in a guest room upstairs and me in my sister’s master bedroom. The sitter brought Decker a few things from home but I left with nothing, so I borrow some of Olive’s clothes. Evening has fallen, and as there’s no food in the house with Olive being out of the country, I decide to delay grocery shopping for a day and take Decker out for pizza.

  Using Olive’s car, I drive us the short distance into downtown Wilmington. It’s a straight shot into downtown from Olive’s suburban neighborhood, and Decker’s face is glued to the passenger-side window the entire time. The surroundings are familiar to me, but I realize he’s never even left Phoenix. All the green, the salty-sea smell, the beachy vibe…it must feel to him like we’re in a foreign country.

  “What do you think?” I ask him as we idle at a red light.

  He turns to me, dimples showing up deep in his cheeks as he grins. “Awesome!”

  Smiling, I ruffle his hair. High praise from an eight-year-old.

  For the first time since I arrived at the airport back in Phoenix, I take a deep breath and don’t feel like my world is caving in. Putting half a country between me and Wagner Horton gives me a sense of security that I crave. But deep down inside, I know the illusion of safety is just that—an illusion. Wagner, despite the lapse in technological creativity he’s been experiencing of late, is a genius.

  Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe Decker and I can be safe here. Wagner has no idea that I’m from Wilmington; he doesn’t know where I’d run. I can change my name back. I can disappear, as far as he’s concerned. I’ll stick to the plan. No credit cards until my new last name is official. New phone, already purchased at the airport. And just in case I have to run again? I have my emergency stash of cash.

  I shiver. I don’t want him to find me.

  I can’t even fathom what it all means, what he’ll do to keep his secret buried.

  “Let’s eat there!”

  Decker’s shout alerts me, and as I pull into the parking lot I eye the vibrant sign of my favorite restaurant as a teenager. There were a lot of memories made at Vinny’s…especially memories with Jeremy. Of course this is where Deck would choose to have dinner.

  “Come on,” I say with a smile, pulling him with me into the restaurant.

  Fragrant, spicy air meets us, and immediately my mouth waters. Decker and I haven’t eaten since lunch during our layover in New Orleans, and I know his little tummy must be grumbling same as mine.

  The hostess seats us and I peruse the menu while Decker stares around us with curious eyes. Leaning over toward him, I poke his belly.

  “Pizza is the same here as it is in Arizona, baby.”

  He grins. “Good. Can’t mess up pizza.”

  “Nope.”

  After we order, Decker points to the small section of arcade games the restaurant houses in a corner. He opens his mouth, but I wave him on with a smile before he asks.

  “Go. I’ll come get you when the pizza gets here.”

  The smile stays on my face as I watch him race over. He immediately jumps into a pinball game with another little boy who looks about his age, only that little boy is at Vinny’s with his mother and his father.

  Pain stings my chest as I watch the happy couple with their baby daughter and allow myself to wish, just for a second, that I could have given that kind of life to Decker.

  Pulling out my phone, I reread Olive’s text:

  I told my friend Berkeley to expect a call from you. She works with me at the design firm. Her husband might have a job lead for you.

  Lord knows I need a job lead. My meager savings, excluding my emergency stash, won’t hold Decker and me for long.

  I’m starting a new life here in Wilmington, trying to erase the old, painful memories this town still hold
s for me. Eating pizza at my favorite restaurant with my son and finding a new job is a really good start.

  Maybe I can make this work.

  God, I hope so.

  My phone vibrates in my hands, and I glance down at it to see a Phoenix area code.

  My hopeful smile disappears. The blood rushes downward, leaving my face and pooling somewhere by my feet. I don’t recognize the number as Wagner’s, but I know…I just know before I open the text.

  When I do, I drop the phone, both hands clapping over my mouth.

  I will find you bitch. You fucked with the wrong guy.

  The tenuous feeling of security from just a moment ago vanishes, leaving me cold and scared and lonely.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  The unexpected knock on the door on Saturday afternoon practically gives me an ever-loving heart attack. The riotous thump-thump-thump in my chest causes me to rest a hand there while I stare toward the entryway. From my spot at the kitchen sink, washing up the dishes from breakfast and lunch, I have a clear view to the front hall.

  Before I can decide what to do, Decker comes skidding down the hardwood hallway from his room. He glances at me and then at the door.

  “I’ll get it!” he yells.

  “No, Deck! Stop!”

  The frantic panic in my voice halts him. He pivots, a slow and wary movement and look s at me expectantly. “Mom?”

  Wiping my hands on a towel, I hurry forward. Very aware that I’m in a pair of Olive’s workout pants and a faded tank top, my hair in a messy bun on top of my head, I grab his shoulders and lean down so we’re at eye level.

  “Sorry, sweetie. I just…we don’t know anyone here yet, and I’d rather you not answer the door by yourself. Okay?”

  I plaster a bright smile on my face and hope my too-smart kid falls for it.

  He eyes me, a shadow of doubt in his eyes. “Okay.”

  Who would be knocking on the door? I don’t know anyone here. Not anymore.

  I take a deep breath and pull the front door open, Decker hovering beside me.

  A tall, gorgeous woman with dark brown skin and oodles of braided hair cascading down around her shoulders stands on the front porch with a sunny smile. She’s holding a basket in her hands, and there’s a little boy who looks to be about Decker’s age standing beside her. She looks perfect and trendy in light-blue, ripped-up jeans, heeled sandals, and a flowing white top.

  I try really, really hard not to feel like a hot mess, but let’s just be honest, shall we?

  “Hey, there.” Her smile is contagious. “I’m Macy, and I live next door. Olive called me this morning, asking me to stop in and check on you.”

  All the tension leaves me with a relieved sigh, and I step back from the door to let them both inside.

  “Oh, my gosh! It’s so nice to meet you, Macy. I’m Rayne Alexander, and this is my son, Decker.”

  Macy smiles at Decker. “Decker, your aunt told me all about you. This is my little man, Julius.”

  Julius shoots his mom an annoyed glance, probably due to the “little man” comment, and he eyes Decker. “I go by Jay.” Another pointed glance for Macy. “I got a hoop. You ball?”

  Decker looks at me, pleading in his eyes. I nod, smiling. Glancing at Macy, I ask. “Just out front?”

  With a wide smile, she assures me. “Right in our driveway.”

  “Go ahead.” I land a pat on Decker’s back before he runs out the front door with Julius.

  Ushering Macy down the hall and into the great room off the kitchen and dining area, I grab the basket she offers.

  “Thank you so much for bringing us…” I lift the towel lining the basket and grin. “Muffins! Delicious. If I’d known you were coming by, I would have chosen not to look like Cinderella.”

  She laughs, waving a dismissive hand. “Girl, please. Just between you and me, I only dressed like this to come over here to put on a good impression. I’m a stay-at-home mom. I live in yoga pants.”

  That’s the moment I decide I might adore Macy.

  “Drink?” I ask her, walking over to the cabinet where Olive keeps the glasses.

  She glances at her phone. “Damn. Too early for wine. Just water then. I’ll only stay a minute, I know you’re settling in.”

  Macy makes herself at home on one of the brightly printed chairs in the great room while I get her water. All at once it hits me: I didn’t have a single girlfriend while I was in Phoenix. I was a single mother at eighteen in a brand-new city. I was trying to support Decker and myself. So I didn’t exactly go out looking for friends. And I definitely wasn’t dating.

  Handing Macy her water, she thanks me, and I sit down on the couch adjacent to her. It’s the only comfortable piece of furniture in the large room. But, of course, it’s white.

  Gesturing to the couch, I offer Macy a wry look. “I’m pretty sure that by the time Olive comes back, this white couch is gonna be stained with orange juice or maybe there’ll be a fruit snack stuck to it somewhere.”

  Macy’s laugh is booming and buoyant. Just like she is. “Yeah…Olive’s place isn’t exactly kid-friendly.”

  Shaking my head, I sadly eye all the pretty pieces around the room. “Definitely not. She’s a fabulous aunt to Decker, though. We never got to see her much when we lived in Phoenix…she got out maybe every couple of years. But they love each other.”

  Macy nods, eyeing me over the rim of her water glass. “You know what? I’m just gonna say what I’m thinking. When Olive told me she had a sister staying at her house with an eight-year-old son, I just thought you’d be in your thirties, like me.

  “But clearly”—she looks me up and down—“I assumed wrong. You’re young and gorgeous. Now I’m gonna have to take an extra class at the gym to make sure I’m keeping up with you.”

  Laughing, I pull my feet up underneath me. It’s so easy talking to Macy, but I don’t want to give her my whole sob story. “I had Decker when I was eighteen.”

  Macy nods. “Gotcha. And I’m going to assume, since you’re staying with Olive, that his father’s not in the picture.”

  Something inside me shifts, crawling deeper into my soul to try and hide my feelings about Decker’s father. The only time I ever think of him is late at night, when I can’t sleep. That’s the time I allow thoughts of him to drift in, and the longing and aching I feel whenever I see a whole family together is fleeting.

  “Decker and I do just fine on our own.” My smile is tight, but not because I’m irritated with Macy’s curiosity.

  I just try to avoid thinking of him at all costs.

  Her eyes soften at the corners, melting into puddles of chocolate. “I bet you do.”

  We share a smile, and I have to admit that even though Macy probably doesn’t understand any of what I’ve been through, she’s a sympathetic soul.

  “Will Decker be going to the local elementary school?”

  Nodding, I bite my lip. “I feel so bad about throwing him into school like that. But the sooner he gets into school and starts making friends, the better. And a week from this Monday’s the first day of school, so that’s even better.” At least that’s what I told Decker, and I’m hoping he loves it. “He’s an easy kid, I think he’ll do fine.”

  After a beat, I add, “And I’m starting my new job this Monday. So I need him to be in school.“

  First thing this morning, I called the friend that Olive works with, Berkeley, and spoke with her husband, Dare. He said they’ve been using temps as assistants at the place where he works, and that I should come in on Monday because they’d just lost one. I told him that that’d be perfect, because my old job in Phoenix was as an executive assistant. He told me he’d call his boss for me and that I should show up at the address he gave me on Monday morning.

  Dare and Berkeley both seemed so sweet, and I almost cried with the relief of having a new way to support Decker and myself.

  Macy places her glass down on a little round side table beside her chair, sure to slide a coas
ter underneath it first. She must know Olive well. “You know what? I drive Julius to school and pick him up every day. I can do the same for Decker, if you’d like.”

  I think my eyes bug out a little as I stare at her. The thought of putting Decker on a bus in this town, even though it’s my hometown, scares the life out of me. Especially after the threatening text message I received last night.

  “Macy…there’s no way I can impose on you like that.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not an imposition. You live next door. And I can keep him at my house after school until you get home from work. Moms have to help each other out.”

  Leaning forward, I grab her hands and squeeze them. I don’t care if I don’t know her very well. I might kiss her. “I don’t know what to say…thank you so much! I’ll start giving you weekly gas money.”

  Macy starts to protest, but I lift a hand to cut her off. “And, anytime you want to have a date night with your husband, you let me know. I’ll keep Julius.”

  Macy beams, reminding me again that she might just be the sweetest person I’ve ever met. “Deal. What are you doing with Decker this week when you start work?”

  Shrugging, I try to exhale the stress I’ve been feeling trying to get everything in line. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Well, now you do. I take Julius to the Boys’ Club during the day; he likes to play ball with other kids and hang out. I can keep Decker with us, and he can go too. Is that okay with you?”

  Maybe Macy doesn’t realize that I’ve just designated her an actual angel, but in my book, she definitely is. “Thank you so much, Macy.”

  Leaning back on the couch, all the air goes out of me as the reality of today hits me. I found a job and a babysitter for Decker.

  And maybe a new friend.

  “So what’s your new job going to be?” asks Macy.

  I lift one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Well, I’ll be an assistant. A friend of my sister’s from the design firm…her husband works for a security company or something like that. So I think they probably install alarms or something.”