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For Her Protection(68)

By:Amber A Bardan


A sliver of realization hit him. Security had insisted the side exit was always locked—someone let Gregory in. He strode to Frank and tapped him on the shoulder. Frank turned, a frown wrinkling his nose. Connor closed his hand around Frank’s throat and slammed him against the wall with a thud.

“Where is Charlize?”

Frank’s eyes bulged. Connor backed off just enough to let the man speak.

“I don’t know.”

“Like fuck you don’t.” He squeezed again and shook the neck in his fist. His chest heaved as if he was the one being choked.

“Hey,” a man called and then hands were on Connor, dragging him back.

Frank bent over and gasped. Connor flexed his arms. He could break free of the two security guards and pummel the shit out of Frank before they’d be able to drag him off again. But that wouldn’t help Charlize.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice vibrating off the walls.

“Hey man, if you’re looking for the chick you came in with, she left with some old dude.”

Connor’s limbs unclenched and he turned his attention to the younger security guard on his left. “Are you sure it was her you saw leave?”

“Black hair, purple dress, rocking body?”

“That’s her,” he said cautiously and shook off the hands holding him. “It’s okay—I’m not going to touch him. But I am going to call the detective now, get him out here. Don’t let that prick go anywhere.”

The security guards released him and moved toward Frank. Connor dialed Mark but watched Frank straighten himself and follow security. Frank didn’t protest, didn’t try to run, acted the part of an innocent with nothing to hide. What a shame… Connor wouldn’t have minded using force. Unease shifted under his skin. Maybe Bob had taken her home? She’d looked unwell when he’d left her but he’d been a cop too long for that to stick. A dark thought buzzed at the back of his brain.

The missing money, Gregory’s history, the way he went after Charlize so deliberately. He watched Frank enter the office and the door closed. Oh Connor would bet his left nut that bastard was involved with stealing the money but there was something more to this.

“Hey, buddy, I got a call. I’m on my way,” Mark answered.

Connor glanced around one final time. “Good but I need you to tell me something. That rock-solid alibi you said Gregory had for the disappearance he was linked to—who provided the alibi? Do you remember a name?”

“The file’s on my desk but it was Robert somebody.”

Connor’s mind ticked at double speed. “Robert, as in Bob?”

“I guess.”

Sense formed from the rubble of information. He just hoped he’d figured it out in time.

* * * * *

Her thighs slid against leather seats then a door thudded. Something in the back of her mind reminded her she wasn’t supposed to be going anywhere but her body was too heavy to protest. Bob arranged her along the rear seat of his car.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re about to have a stroke.”

A stroke.

Like her dad, like her uncle… Is that why she felt sick? She should be scared, she was conscious enough to realize that but too relaxed to actually feel fear. Bob pulled something from inside his jacket pocket, a small syringe.

“Is it so hard to imagine? With your family history? And I’ve heard you’ve been very stressed, very overwhelmed. I bet your blood pressure has been way up.”

Her eyes fixed on the syringe and even though her mind faded in and out as if she were in some kind of trippy nightmare, a strange clarity settled over her.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. The needle is fine and I gave you something earlier to relax you.”

Her tongue moved restlessly in her mouth, bitterness still coated her taste buds.

Ah…the wine…

Bob pulled a cap off the syringe and the sharp point of a needle gleamed menacingly. Why did needles always look so fucking big?

“Please, Bob, don’t…”

“I wish I didn’t have to, I tried to find another way,” he said and his gaze ran over her almost fondly. He pushed the plunger and liquid squirted. “I’ve always liked you, Charlize, you were such a sweet little girl. I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it. But Gregory—he hates you. With his history, with what he owes me, it wasn’t hard to plant a few ideas in his head, keep myself out of it this time. But that option didn’t work out.”

Charlize braced herself, knew she had to wait for him to get close, hoped she still had the strength, the reflexes to move fast enough.