Her brain flashed to images of all of them. To all the innocent people on the other side of the wall. Then her attackers started moving. She dragged her feet and grabbed for a hold in the chipped wall. Fingernails scraped against old paint, but she couldn’t halt his progress.
Inhaling deep and gathering all her strength, she lifted her foot and nailed her attacker in the shin. At the thud of heel on bone, they slammed to a stop. The guy swore as he threw her body against the wall and held her there with his weight against her back.
Her head hit plaster and the world around her tilted. She gasped, trying to drag enough air into her lungs and brain to keep thinking.
The crunch of her nose against the wall sent pain spiraling through her. She turned her head and blinked when the crushing ache of her cheek against the wall threatened to be too much. Her body felt as if it were being ripped apart and smashed into a small ball at the same time.
In the next second, all the pressure vanished. The sudden change had her dazed and sliding to the floor. As her body fell, she saw a flash of gray.
Limp seemingly gone, Paxton moved in a blur. His body honed and aimed like a weapon, he came in the back door fighting. He jammed an elbow into the smaller attacker’s head and knocked him into the wall. The guy went down in a motionless whoosh.
Something whizzed in front of her. She glanced over and saw Paxton standing with his arm out and his furious glare aimed at the taller attacker. She followed the line of Paxton’s body and watched the other attacker scramble, his shoes scuffing against the floor, before he dropped. A red blotch spread on his stomach a second later as his gun dropped and spun across the floor.
Her first look at the knife was of the way it stuck out of the attacker’s body. Even with his eyes closed and his body slumped to the side, he scared the crap out of her.
It all happened so fast and with less sound than if she had been moving boxes around back there. The pulsing tension seeped out of the hallway, but she couldn’t take it all in. Sounds muffled, but she thought she heard someone talking. With her head tilted back, she saw Paxton grab the abandoned gun and point it at the bleeding man before hitting him with the end of it.
Paxton was talking but not looking at her. The words refused to come together in her brain. Finally, he glanced down at her, and the scowl marking his forehead eased. He dropped down to balance on the balls of his feet and winced as he went. The move put them face-to-face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The calm words brushed against her and she answered with the truth. “No.”
His gaze traveled all over her. “Were you hit?”
“I don’t think so.” She closed her eyes to keep the room from spinning, but the reality of where she was had them popping open again. She tried to sit up, hoping her legs would hold her if she somehow wrestled her fatigued body to her feet. “My employees and the people—”
He put his hand on her noninjured knee, and the light touch held her down. “Everyone is fine. They don’t even know anything happened back here.”
The noise. The slamming doors. The grunts and yelling. None of that fit together with his assurance. “How is that possible?”
“I need a team and possibly medical.” He talked to the air.
He kept issuing orders. Something about identities and watching the front. She really focused on him then, letting her gaze wander over the firm chin and across his broad chest. Apparently he threw knives. He had the attacker’s gun plus another one.
In a matter of minutes he’d morphed from cute flirty guy with an injury to scary fighter guy.
“Is the limp real?” She blurted out the question before she could stop it.
“Yes.” He touched his ear. “Now, Joel.”
“Joel?”
Then she saw it. A tiny piece of silver. He had a microphone and was talking to someone who wasn’t actually in the hallway.
Her eyes closed as a wave of nausea rolled over her. She hadn’t dreamed any of it, and all of her fears of walking into the middle of a terrifying gun battle had come true.
That left one very big question.
She opened her eyes and stared at him again. “Who are you really?”
“Same guy you served the coffee to.”
She tried to scoff but she didn’t have the energy or extra breath. “I don’t think so.”
“You should probably call me Pax.” He had the nerve to smile at her as he stood up.
This time she didn’t buy the full mouth or twinkle in his eyes. “You’re not a normal coffee customer.”
“I am, but I’m also something else.”
Dread spilled into her stomach. “What?”
“Your informal bodyguard.”
Chapter Two
From the huge brown eyes to the grim line of her mouth, Kelsey looked about two seconds away from striking out. Maybe screaming her head off. Both options sounded bad to Pax. He wasn’t a fan of throwing up, either, and the sudden green taint to her skin suggested that was a real possibility.
He reached down to help her up, but she shrank back against the wall, her petite frame curling in on itself. In the tucked position, her long hair fell over her shoulders, shielding her face from view and hiding the ripped strap holding her shirt on her shoulder. The denim shorts showed off her lean legs and a red welt right above her knee.
Seeing her injured and scared dropped a black curtain of rage over him. Every cell inside him craved revenge. He seriously considered removing his knife and then plunging it into the bad guy a second time.
But attack mode would have to wait. They had to get out of there, which meant providing a dose of comfort and reassurance. Not two of his strengths, sure, but since joining up with the Corcoran Team he’d been polishing the skills.
These jobs weren’t like the ones he’d worked at his old employer, the Defense Intelligence Agency. There, he’d tracked down military intelligence leaks. He dealt in bad guys, dangerous situations and threats to service members.
In his new life he still went after bad guys, but now his main objective centered on rescuing kidnapping victims. Or even better, stopping kidnapping threats before they happened, something he’d basically failed to do with Kelsey.
“Kelsey, it’s going to be okay.” Pitching his voice low and keeping it as soothing as possible, he said the words even though he knew she was in no condition to hear them.
She glanced at the body on the floor just a few feet away from her thigh and then back to Pax. “How can you say that? Look around you.”
He wasn’t sure what to say or how much to share about his real reason for visiting her shop almost every day for weeks,
