Saving Serena (Hawk Security #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Duke

Eventually, Serena called, and I headed over to pick her up after work. Waiting at the employee entrance, I was relieved when the door opened and I recognized her curls. I felt like the luckiest guy in town as Serena graced me with a beaming smile and passed out of the security gate alongside the woman from earlier and a man.

“See you tomorrow, Katelyn,” she said.

“How about a drink?” the guy next to her asked. “Jacques will be there.”

I growled and advanced. “Hey, Princess. You’re late.” I sent the guy a withering glare. “She’s busy.” She was absolutely not having a drink with this guy or any dipshit named Jacques.

Katelyn eyed me before continuing on. “Have fun, Serena.”

The guy gave me a wide berth. “See you tomorrow.” He followed Katelyn.

I faced Serena again. “I thought you government employees got off earlier?”

She shook her head. “According to my wonderful boss, arriving late means I get to stay late. Hospital visits don’t count.” She took my hand and pulled me toward the sidewalk. “I’m famished, honey.”

Honey? She was taking this fake-boyfriend thing to a new level. I didn’t do relationships or girlfriends, not since?—

“How was your day?” she asked. The words were neutral, but the tone was all girlfriend-ish, if that was a thing.

Her hand in mine felt more natural than it should have. I considered dropping it, but Katelyn looked back at us. Instead, I stopped and pulled Serena close for a light hug, careful of the cut on her side. “I’ve been thinking of you all day, Princess,” I told her, just loud enough to be overheard by the woman. The odd part? It wasn’t a lie. I’d done my best to lock down my memories from years ago and stop myself from considering what could have been, but I’d failed.

Her only response was to wrap a hand behind my neck and pull herself up to my ear. “Me, too, honey.” She continued holding my hand as we walked to the cars.

“How did work go?” It was a lame line, but Serena had a way of taking me off my A-game.

“My boss sucks, but otherwise okay. They all bought the deer story, and as you suggested, I didn’t even tell my friend Katelyn what happened or that I had a bodyguard. She was the one who left with me.”

“Good work, baby. Who was the guy?”

“Remy.”

I watched him in the distance and growled.

She squeezed my hand. “For your information, Jacques is his husband.”

I turned to see Katelyn climb into a Maserati. “Your friend must be well paid.”

Serena dropped my hand and pivoted to look. “She has expensive tastes. Her fiancé died in a car accident not too long ago, and… He was rich, and well… She’s struggling. Grief and bills, a double hit.”

Back at the cars, I held out my hand. “Phone.”

Serena was busy scrolling on it. “Why?”

“I need to check it for threats. We’ve put it off too long.”

She huffed. “There’s nothing on it. If somebody sent me a text saying I was going to die today, I would have noticed.” Back in argumentative mode, she didn’t offer the device.

I wiggled my fingers, and she handed it over. It was locked. “What’s the pin?”

“Zero-four-zero-four.”

“Climb in the car. This will take a minute.”

Once she was safely inside, I went through her voicemails first.

While I checked them, I noticed the two coworkers she’d walked out with drive off. Reading the automated transcriptions was faster than listening to them. Ignoring the ones from her family, I didn’t see anything of interest until I got to one from George , sent yesterday. Feeling suddenly tense, I turned to her. “George is the guy you used to date?”

She nodded. “My very ex-boyfriend.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t gotten any threats.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t.”

“He sent you, and I quote, ‘It would be a mistake for both of us if we didn’t get back together.’” That one sent a chill down my spine.

“So?”

“That qualifies as a threat. It’s exactly the kind of message a stalker would send—not too direct or obvious, easy to explain away if he’s confronted, but with a clear undertone of warning.”

“Sorry. I guess since he wasn’t the guy who wanted to barbecue me, I didn’t think it was serious.”

“That was a mistake. How do you spell his last name?”

“Kittleman. Two Ts. But it’s not him.”

I dialed my brother, Jordy, our tech guru. While Lucas, Brett, and I had gone the military route, our nerd brother had decided on the NSA and later CIA.

“Hey, Cobra,” he answered. “What’s up?”

“I need everything you can get on a George Kittleman, two Ts.”

“What city?”

I turned to Serena. “Where does he live?”

“Brentwood.”

I repeated this to Jordy.

“On it.” The line clicked off. He wasn’t big on personal interactions, even with his brothers.

“It wasn’t him,” Serena said. “I would have recognized him for sure.”

“Like I told you, these guys can hire people to do the dirty work.”

She cringed. “I forgot about that.”

If it was Kittleman, this would be a lot harder. Nailing the guy who pulled the strings was always more difficult than catching the actual perp.

This was getting more difficult by the minute. I handed her phone back. “I’ll follow you home.”

She nodded, not seeming as confident as she had a few minutes ago. “You think it could be George?”

“Until we know more, it’s possible. Now, let’s get you home so you can change your bandage before the meeting.”

“Yes, honey.”

She meant it to poke me, but I could see myself getting used to it.

She pointed. “What’s with the keychain?”

I held it, felt the ridges on the metal, and the horrible memory came back. I pocketed the thing.

“What? I don’t get to ask you any questions? How’s that fair?”

“Not about that. Now get in your car, and I’ll follow you home.”

“Your dog tags?” She wasn’t going to let this go.

I turned. “Not mine. A buddy who died on an op with me. My best friend. He didn’t deserve to die, but sometimes bad shit happens to good people.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I blinked rapidly to rid myself of the image of Marilyn. “You’ve lived in a privileged cocoon your whole life. You don’t know shit about hardship. Now get out, Princess. I’ll follow you.”

She didn’t understand true loss. Hopefully, she’d never find out.

Did I watch her pretty ass sway as she strutted to her car? You bet I did. Closing my eyes, I imagined her naked, splayed out on my bed. My cock surged to life, and the horrible memory of Marilyn faded away.

Serena

I’d really struck a nerve asking about the keychain.

Maybe I hadn’t been to war, but I’d visited hell. I slammed the door to his SUV and walked to my little car.

“ You don’t know shit about hardship. ” Those words stung. I knew more about hardship than he could imagine. Fuck you, Duke Hawk. You don’t know shit about me or my history.

Beeping the door unlocked, I yanked it open, climbed in, fastened my seatbelt, and locked the doors. “You’re the one who doesn’t know shit, you big oaf.” His words still felt like lemon juice in a fresh cut, even if he was a sexy oaf.

After a few more breaths to calm down, I looked his way.

He smiled, and I pressed the start button.

BOOM .

The car shook, and fire erupted from the hood.

Why me?

I pulled the door handle—it didn’t open. Panic filled me as smoke entered the cabin. My eyes burned, but I found the unlock button and clicked it, still pushing on the door.

I coughed. The door was still locked.

The smoke thickened. I couldn’t see a thing but yelled the one thing I could think of. “Duuuuuuuke…”