My Biker Bodyguard by J.R. Turner Read Free Book Online Page A

A friend at the LAPD called in for me."
"The LAPD? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Beth hired me to…protect her. I have a detective friend
back home who alerted the Milwaukee P.D. Once we get to
this guy you know, he can run my name and everything will be
fine. You'll see."
"Everything will not be fine," she muttered. He just didn't
get it. People like her, people who made an honest living in
professions the law thought lawless–tattooists, motorcycle
mechanics, bar tenders, club owners, bouncers–never got a fair
shake.
She didn't argue with Mitch though, what would be the
point? There was no going back, no reversing the past. She
had to live with what she had done. Even so, she wanted to lift
the Magnum from between her feet, point it at Mitch, and
demand that they hightail it to Canada, leave the country, avoid
her fate.
Two things kept her from taking just that course of action.
She could never leave her father–especially if there was a
chance he might be…hurt. Never killed, she couldn't imagine
that, it would rip her in two. And the other; she couldn't touch
the Magnum right now. If she did, the coffee sloshing in her
belly would make a second appearance.
Shooting at the gun range was a hell of a lot different than
shooting a man, regardless of how dangerous that man was.
She couldn't get his face out of her head. Palms pressed to her
eyes, she tried to obliterate that cold, brown stare, the surprised
pain, the ugly eagerness to kill her. She'd done the right thing,
but she felt all wrong about it.
Mitch took the alley so fast, they fishtailed for a moment
before he straightened out.
She couldn't help herself. "Careful."
He didn't reply, but came to a jarring halt in front of a
black-and-white cruiser, its lights mounted to the hood
revolving, the siren silent.
Jack stepped from the parking lot and into the alley, her
father right behind him. As soon as Jess saw the pair, her
insides lurched. Her dad's face matched the grey in his beard,
his blue eyes were wide and more frightened than she'd ever
seen them. He's safe .
She was out of the car before Mitch had gotten his door
open. Her father wrapped his strong arms around her and the
dam burst. She was eleven again, returning from foster care.
"Jesus, Jess," his voice cracked, "what the hell happened?"
"I don't know, Dad." Jess stepped back, acutely aware of
their audience. She wiped the wet off her face and inhaled
deeply, pressing down pain and shame. A moment, that's all
she could afford, a single moment to wallow in her shock and
fear. She couldn't be weak now, not in front of Mitch and Jack.
"Mitch said this is because of…my mother?"
He looked over her shoulder at the big man behind her.
"You told her?"
She turned and caught Mitch's nod. "Some, not
everything."
Jack eyed Mitch with that steel-gray lie detector look she
had come to know all too well. He rested his hands on his hips
above the police-issue holster, sandy blonde hair shimmering in
the sun, his brow furrowed deeply. "I need your weapons.
Don't," he said, stopping Mitch from reaching beneath his coat.
"Place your hands on your head and turn around."
Jess waited for Mitch to argue, but he simply laced his
fingers together over his scalp. The action parted his coat,
revealing the shoulder holster and the breakfast mess on his
shirt. The dripping stain pointed like an accusatory finger to
the butt of the Glock he had only had time to shove in the front
of his pants.
Jess recalled his hand emerging over her head, gripping
the pistol. How brutal he'd looked stalking through the door.
She struggled to understand what it all meant. The depth of his
dark, brown gaze, the resonating low thrum of his voice as he
said, "Your mother sent me."
Jack took the guns. "Are there more?"
Mitch shook his head. "I'm on file with your department.
You can check it out. I'm in from L.A. on the Kramer case.
Ring any bells?"
"No. But I've got the call in now. We'll wait and