didn’t think so.” Whitestall leered and let out a long, putrid breath. Sweat beaded on his jaw, and his greasy hair fell in front of his beady eyes. He stopped beating his flashlight against his palm for a moment. “I’ve seen you and Ms. Thorn in her classroom, when you think I’m not watching. The way you look at her—sidle up to her. You want to get closer, don’t you? You wish you were outside these walls, so you could really get to know her.”
Myles was stunned. How could he possibly respond? Silence was his only hope, so he bit the inside of his cheek viciously to keep quiet.
“I knew it,” Whitestall snarled. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ll be in solitary for a year if I turn you in.” A slow, cruel smile shaped his lips. “But…I might be willing to help you. Get you what you want and let you have a little fun with her…if you do something for me. You’ve got nothing to lose now.”
Where was this going? “What did you have in mind, sir?”
The guard held up what looked like a silver car key.
“It’s simple enough, really. I want you to make her disappear. For good.”
The silver car key in Myles’s pocket poked his leg as he stretched out on the back floor of Kenzie’s car. He ran a hand over his new jeans, supplied by Whitestall, and tipped his head, angling for a view out of the enormous windows in the bus barn. Late afternoon, he guessed.
It would probably be at least a couple more hours before she would leave for the day. Whitestall had told him that she usually didn’t leave until it was dark.
That meant he had some time to make plans and think through this crazy turn of events.
He’d never even considered that this would be a possibility of the job. That he’d be forced to kidnap his mission. To be honest, he hadn’t even been convinced she was truly in danger. But he knew better now. Someone wanted her dead.
Number one rule of protection: Don’t let your assignment die.
As soon as they made it out of the prison, he could take care of that.
Rule number two: Find out who wants your charge dead, and why.
Certainly Whitestall wasn’t the man in charge, but Myles at least had a good place to start. That guard could and would point him in the right direction.
While he was investigating, he needed to stash Ms. Thorn in a safe location. There was an FBI safe house less than a hundred and fifty miles away. That would work. Get her there, touch base later with his supervisor. Then the really exciting stuff started—following the clues from Whitestall to the perpetrators. Who knew where that trail might lead?
He loved the unknown about this job.
Normally, at this point in a case he’d be running scenarios, figuring out angles, making plans. Yet, for some reason, his mind kept wandering back to his last interaction with Ms. Thorn.
He really had meant to compliment her on the lesson the day before. She was an excellent teacher and had a great rapport with the inmates. She provided easily understood instructions and taught with so much passion that it seemed possible she could teach the entire prison.
But he just hadn’t been able to keep that smirk off his face. The force of habit was too strong. He’d used it all his life to keep the people around him at a distance. And it came in especially handy in prison. It was much easier to be guarded by other men when he kept himself emotionally removed from the situation.
As soon as Kenzie had seen his sneer, he recognized the fire in her eyes and flare of her nostrils that told him she was spitting mad. And his immediate reaction was to soothe her. But by grasping her hands, he hadn’t soothed her, he’d crossed the line. He knew it. She knew it.
So why had she stepped closer to him?
He wanted the chance to look into her eyes today. To see if she was still mad, or had forgiven him that insolent smirk. He was strangely surprised that her opinion of him really did matter. Her funny little smile—well, that was just an added bonus.
Kenzie Thorn was a spunky woman. A very attractive spunky woman.
But for the moment, she was just a job. And completing his assignment for the bureau was more important than seeing her smile or smelling her citrus scent.
Besides, as soon as she got into the car tonight, any affinity they shared would be demolished. When she crawled behind the wheel after her final class, he was going to have to threaten her life. At least make her believe that she was in danger.
Wrapping his hand firmly around the tiny blade that Whitestall had given him, he tried not to focus on the fear he knew he was going to cause.
No matter what, it was better him than someone who might like scaring Kenzie, who might really hurt her.
Suddenly the truth of that slammed into him, almost stealing his breath. God, thank You for putting me here and not someone who would be willing to hurt her. Please keep her calm as we make our way toward the safe house tonight, and give her understanding when I can finally tell her about this assignment. I ask for wisdom as I investigate the people behind this plot against Kenzie. Lord, I pray, too, for her family, who will be frightened beyond belief. Please guide me, Lord, on my mission to protect her.
He mouthed an “amen,” not daring to say it aloud, just in case Whitestall or someone else had bugged the car. He couldn’t take any chances that they would catch on to him before he had Kenzie tucked away in the safe house.
They’d make it out of the prison. And he’d find the people behind this plot. He’d make sure that she never had to worry about them again.
Kenzie sighed as she collected the last of her papers to be graded the next day, particularly tired after an extra late night of grading. Myles had never showed up for class. Immediately, her mind jumped to the sight of the yellowish bruise around his eye when he’d first entered her class the previous day. Could he have been beaten up? Was he seriously injured?
Suddenly breathing heavily, she shoved the papers haphazardly into her desk drawer and headed toward the infirmary. The evening nurse, Jayne, was always kind and would tell her if Myles was in there. But how could she ask about him without seeming too interested?
“Please don’t let him be hurt,” she whispered toward the ceiling. “If You see fit, please keep him safe and healthy.”
Kenzie slid to a stop at the window where the middle-aged nurse should have been. But no one was there. There was no point in waiting around for Jayne or someone else to show up. It could be hours.
Turning around dejectedly, she trotted toward the security checkpoint. Having learned to navigate security efficiently, she quickly flashed her ID tag and bustled out the door, toward her car. Shivering as a sturdy breeze cooled off the evening air, she picked up her speed.
The night fell on her, closing around her. The ominous spotlights illuminating the prison yard did little to make her feel safe. Shadows in the bus barn spooked her as she flung open her car door, threw in her purse and jumped behind the wheel. The ignition turned over and the engine purred to life as she shoved the lock down.
Putting a hand over her
