Home > Tangled Like Us (Like Us #4)(88)

Tangled Like Us (Like Us #4)(88)
Author: Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

“One-hundred percent,” Akara says, still glaring at me.

That’s not really true. And Akara knows this. My brother would want to stay and protect these families. And I’d want him to keep them safe. Especially if I’m dating Jane.

But I keep my mouth shut.

I trust Akara, who knows a hell of a lot more than I do right now.

Price lets out a long breath and narrows his gaze on me. “I won’t accept your resignation.”

What the fuck is going on?

I look between all three of them. Not interrupting.

Price continues, “After the fight on Halloween, Lily and Loren Hale have requested that you or Banks return to Xander’s 24/7 detail.” Their son.

The Tri-Force only needs one of us on the team. But Akara just saved me with a package-deal lie.

My chest rises, a surge of emotion rushing through me. I’m going to keep my job as a bodyguard.

They’re not taking my radio or my gun—but where the hell am I going?

Jane.

Let me stay with Jane.

Breath imprisons my lungs.

Price picks up the tablet he’d thrown down. “We were planning on putting Banks with Xander.”

I nod stiffly.

Sensing the hammer about to drop.

“But you’re not staying on Jane’s detail after this. You sealed your own fate.”

My mind is reeling. They’re punishing me. Because they couldn’t fire me.

I try to exhale, reminding myself that I’m being given more than I thought I’d receive coming in here. And I knew there’d be consequences to my decision.

“You want me on Xander’s detail, sir?” My voice is professional. Stern. Like always.

“Correct. Your post will start soon.”

I nod. “Thank you, sir.”

He nods to me, hurt still in his brow. Hurt in all of them.

Price became a bodyguard at twenty-two for the long-haul, same age that I did, and I think he saw his longevity and leadership in me.

Sinclair is the one who relates to the military in me. I’m supposed to be like one of him.

And Akara. Him and me. He has the most reason to be upset.

I’m concerned about Jane. More than anything. Because if I’m not on her detail, then it’s wide open for the taking. “Will you put Banks with Jane, sir?” I ask.

“You’d love that,” Price snaps. “No, it won’t be your twin.”

Donnelly is up for transfer.

Donnelly, then. I’m praying.

“Her new bodyguard is going to be Tony Ramella.”

I solidify.

The man I wouldn’t trust with a fucking goldfish—and I’m supposed to let him protect her? I would die for Jane. All of SFO would die for Jane. And I can’t say that Tony would.

And that’s the level of dedication she needs if I can’t protect her.

“He’s the best man for the job,” Price continues. “He has the highest skillset and experience from security services in LA. It’ll benefit Jane.”

No. I breathe coarse breath, trying to control my temper. “Respectfully, sir,” I say, pausing so I don’t growl out a fuck no. “He got his own client beat up.”

“No,” Price refutes. “Xander Hale asked to be in the fight. He was abiding by his client’s wishes. He followed protocol.”

My eyes tighten. “Xander is a minor.”

“Tony spent years protecting one of the most internationally recognized boy bands, teenagers close to Xander’s age. He’s experienced and understands the nuances of this job.”

We’re talking about the same guy who slept with my high school girlfriend.

I try again. “Jane doesn’t trust Tony, sir. In my professional opinion, they’re not suited for each other.”

Sinclair cocks his head. “You sure you aren’t just jealous, Moretti? This sounds like personal crap-in-a-bag to me.”

“Sir, you can talk to Jane,” I say sternly. “She’ll tell you.”

Price retorts, “We can’t have your personal feelings towards a bodyguard affecting Jane’s view of him. Tony is one of the best guards. The end. If she’s feeling uneasy because of your grievances, you can help her learn to trust him.”

I hear, help her learn to fuck him.

Goddammit.

But I can’t lose what they’ve just given me. My job. It’s the best way I can protect her. Even if I’m not on her detail.

“You don’t have a voice in this, Moretti,” Sinclair snaps. “Stand down.”

I’m not a lead. Seniority. Hierarchy. Everything that I cherish and honor and respect.

Akara pockets his phone and speaks to Price and Sinclair. “As formality, we should take a vote.”

Akara should vote with them. To gain favor.

I watch and listen as the Tri-Force do a quick vote for both transfers. Me to Xander. Tony to Jane.

Both votes are 2-1.

Akara opposed. He’s die-hard SFO, and by still vouching for me, he just made it known to the Alpha and Epsilon leads.

I rub my tensed jaw. “Are we done?” I ask. I just want to see her. Hug her. Tell her myself. Take the good and put away the bad for now.

And Jane—she’s everything good to me.

“One more question,” Price says. “And this stays here. We won’t tell anyone. But we need to know so that we can see the warning signs when we hire new guys.”

I stiffen, having no clue what’s coming.

Price says, “Was it for the fame or the sex?”

“Neither,” I say, not even hesitating. “It was just her.”

It was always just her.

47

JANE COBALT

I’m frozen, hands cupped over my parted lips. Tears filling my eyes, the kind stirred from a skipping heart and stolen breath.

I stand on the foot of the staircase. Staring at the closed adjoining door that Thatcher left through. I could hear everything when their voices grew louder.

He was willing to quit for me. So we could be together.

He’s sacrificed so much of what he loves. All for me. And I’ve never had someone make so many endless declarations. I feel them swelling up inside me.

He’s still a bodyguard. I didn’t take that from him. He kept something, and that breathes sunlight into my lungs.

The door blows open.

Thatcher instantly lays his eyes on me, and we take sharp breaths. “Jane,” he says huskily, soaking in my overcome expression. “You heard?”

I drop my hands off my mouth. My heart racing, nearly floating out of me. “I heard,” I confirm.

He comes straight for me.

And I can’t shut up.

“I heard…all of what you said, and I… I think you’re… I find you…” I watch his unwavering stride—not faltering, not hesitating—his strong eyes already clutching me before his hands do.

Swiftly, Thatcher lifts me against his chest, a gasp breaking apart my lips. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist while he holds me. While I clasp his hard, scruffy jaw between two palms. Staring deep into his yearning and affection.

His mouth brushes mine, longing in the air between our lips, and we kiss with unraveling passion.

He carries me up the narrow stairs, and when we get to my room, he kicks the door closed. Our lips haven’t parted. Each kiss like a blazing promise—this will happen again tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that.

No one is telling us this has to end.

We only break apart when my back hits the bedpost. Lips swollen and red, breathing heavy, and heartbeat sputtering a mile a minute.

Cats dart past his heels, and my animal-print drapes blow in a gentle breeze. Window cracked, blinds open and light shining through.

I speak, words tumbling out of my mouth at rapid pace. “I’m feeling so many things at once… and it’s so overwhelming.” Our eyes graze each other, and I just think aloud, “Will you stay with me here in my room?”

“Right now?” He brushes a piece of hair off my lips.

Heat flushes my cheeks. “I meant longer. You won’t be able to live in security’s townhouse if you’re not my bodyguard. But you can stay in mine, here with me—you can say no. I just thought it’d be easier and with the suspect not caught, the one who broke-in…” I trail off because he’s already nodding. He’s been nodding for a while.

   
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