Shattered Trust. Sara K. Parker
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she couldn’t help but consider that her father’s fears may not have been all that unfounded.
“How long have you been with Shield?” she asked Luke, curious.
“About five years.”
“Almost since the beginning.”
“Roman and I go way back.”
Natalie had met Roman DeHart and interacted with him a few times. She remembered him as a little intimidating, his eyes dark and intense, always serious and professional when she’d observed him. There’d never been any doubt in her mind that her dad had hired the best private security company around. Luke’s performance so far had only solidified her judgment.
“I’m surprised I’ve never met you.”
“Spent the first three years as a security engineer before training under Roman as a bodyguard. Now I just work for Shield on a contract basis. Trying to get a community center off the ground in my old neighborhood in Cherry Hill.”
“What kind of community center?” Natalie asked, her interest piqued.
Streetlights cast shadows through the cab, and Luke shifted in his seat to face her. “A place where kids can come after school for help with homework, pickup basketball games, a free meal. I’d like to get some small group Bible studies started, too. And eventually literacy and parenting classes. Things like that.”
She barely knew him, but she was immediately rooting for his success. The sincerity in his expression and the determined tone of his voice spoke to the immeasurable time he had likely poured into planning. “It sounds amazing. And like a lot of work.”
“It’ll be worth every dollar and every second I sink into it.”
There was a story there. She didn’t have a chance to ask about it because the cruiser was pulling up to the hospital entrance. Time to get her shoulder patched up and then head to the police station. Neither task appealed to her, but she wasn’t a complainer, and she’d do what needed to be done, like she always did.
* * *
Luke paced the floor, silently strategizing his next steps as Natalie’s shoulder got stitched up.
“Feel free to wait outside,” Natalie said wryly. “I’m sure I’ll be safe enough in here.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” He leaned against the wall, sending her a sympathetic grin. She seemed unfazed by the needle moving in and out of her skin, the clenched fists in her lap the only sign of her discomfort.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “I’m not keen on having a needle poked through my flesh. The thought of a stranger watching it happen thrills me even less.”
“I’m not watching the needle,” he said, his gaze never wavering from hers as the doctor shot more painkiller into the area around the knife wound. Come to think of it, her sun-kissed skin had paled, her breathing shallow.
“Some vacation, huh?” Luke asked, hoping to get her mind off the procedure.
“Not exactly what I had in mind.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’m sure my father filled you in—a romantic honeymoon with the man who was supposed to love me. You know, until death do us part and all that.” She pressed her lips together as if regretting the words. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the sordid details.”
He wouldn’t mind hearing the sordid details, but he wouldn’t press her for more. “I’m sorry,” he offered quietly. “One-sided love hurts.”
He knew that all too well. Had learned it first as a young kid, desperately trying to convince his mom to get help, to change, to love him and his siblings more than she loved her addictions and her dysfunctional romantic relationships. And the theme had repeated itself in his life more than once.
“It’s hard to come to terms with the idea that it was one-sided.”
He read confusion in her eyes, and it was clear that she had been blindsided by her fiancé’s wedding-day abandonment. He had the urge to tell her all the things he knew she wouldn’t want to hear—that she was better off without the jerk, that she had a lot going for her in life, that the right person for her would show up when she least expected him. But he had a feeling that any words he offered would come across as useless platitudes.
“All done,” the doctor said, drawing back. “Eight stitches.”
“Not bad.” Luke offered Natalie a hand as she sat up.
She straightened, but her grip on Luke’s hand felt weak. He slid an arm behind her back for more support as the doctor reviewed care instructions for the wound and then opened the door for them. As Natalie’s feet met the ground, Luke held her arm, steadying her.
“I’m okay,” she said, but leaned into the help he offered.
The doctor said goodbye and gestured down the hall to the exit.
“If you want to go back to the hotel, we can go to the station tomorrow,” Luke suggested as he led Natalie to the checkout desk. He recognized the exhaustion setting in, along with the shock from the night’s events, and didn’t want to keep pushing her.
But Natalie shook her head, determined. “Let’s just get it over with.”
* * *
More than an hour later, Luke and Natalie had finally been fingerprinted and then escorted to the lobby of the police station, where Officer Perez was waiting to transport them back to the hotel. A storm had set in, rain pouring in windy sheets outside the ancient building. The squad car was less than thirty yards from the station’s entrance, but they were all drenched by the time they reached it.
Officer Perez opened a back-passenger door and gestured for them to slide in just as someone called to him in Spanish from the far edge of the lot. Luke followed Natalie into the car, peering across the seat and out into the dark parking lot, where a car with flashing hazards was parked at an odd angle with its hood popped.
“A moment, please,” Officer Perez said, closing the door and jogging away from the cruiser. Luke watched the officer run through the downpour until he disappeared behind the open hood of the car. Normally, he’d get out and offer some help, but the safest place for Natalie was in this car, and he didn’t plan on leaving her alone.
Now was probably a good time to bring Roman up to speed. He wouldn’t be thrilled to start his Sunday with this news, but he’d be unhappier still if Luke delayed reporting it.
“I’m giving my boss a call,” he told Natalie, pulling up Roman’s number on his phone.
“Luke,” Roman answered on the second ring, his voice alert. “Everything okay? I was just about to call you.”
“I’ve got things under control,” Luke assured Roman, surprised at the edge in his boss’s voice. “Natalie’s safe. But we’ve run into a problem.” He proceeded to fill Roman in on all that had transpired that night and their plan moving forward. “As soon as we get her passport, we’ll reschedule our return flights,” he added.
“My crew’s already getting the jet ready,” Roman said. “I don’t want her traveling on a commercial flight when we don’t know who this guy is.”
Luke leaned forward, pressed the phone closer to his ear. The connection wasn’t great, but he was pretty sure he’d heard Roman correctly. “You’re already loading up? How did you know we—”
“There’ve been some developments here,” Roman cut in, his voice deadly serious. “Natalie’s ex, Kyle Paxton, is MIA. And the State police want to bring Natalie in for questioning.”
“Hold on a minute,” Luke said. “I’m putting you on speaker. Natalie’s here with me. It’s probably better if she hears the news firsthand.”
What news?