Midnight Vengeance (Midnight series) by Lisa Marie Rice

Author:Lisa Marie Rice [Rice, Lisa Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2014-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Some color had come back in her face. Jacko glanced over at Lauren in the passenger seat. Her skin had been the color of ice when they arrived at ASI.

He’d gone in fully expecting to walk back out without a job. Instead, he’d come back out with a team. Midnight and Senior—man. Those guys were real team leaders. A member of the team needed help? They stepped right up. Jacko was intensely grateful for that. But intense gratitude was nothing compared to the white-hot relief he felt knowing that ASI had his back. Lauren would be kept safe, no question.

Jacko could have done it alone—he knew that. He’d have locked them in his secure quarters forever if that’s what it took. But he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to be on alert 24/7 because he’d be sharing the job of protecting Lauren with his teammates.

Basic principle of bodyguarding and of soldiering—never do it on your own. You work in shifts. Otherwise the adrenalin of constant alertness will eat you alive.

So not only were they going to keep Lauren safe, they were going on the offensive. Oh yeah.

It wasn’t in Jacko’s nature to hunker down. If he knew Lauren was protected, he and ASI could go take down this son of a bitch.

He’d give Bud some time to dig up intel. It was always good to go the legal route. But bottom line? If there was no progress soon, he’d leave Lauren with Metal—no one better, no one smarter, no one meaner when he had to be—and go off to Palm Beach and smoke the fucker who was after her himself.

He knew how to do it and leave no clues.

So sometime soon Lauren’s nightmare would be over. Oh yeah.

“Jacko,” she said, turning to him, “I don’t know how to thank you—”

Jacko held up a hand in horror. “God, don’t thank me.” His throat tightened. He had a lot of skills. Get in his way and you’d be sorry. But words weren’t what he was good at. “Just...don’t.”

Unspoken words choked him. I would happily die to protect you. No will ever touch you again.

I think I love you.

That last thought made him sweat. He gripped the steering wheel harder, his palms suddenly damp.

Fuck.

His hands were sweating. That never happened to a sniper, and sweaty hands had sure as hell never happened to him. He’d always been the meanest, nastiest motherfucker around since he was twelve. No one messed with him then; no one messed with him now.

He’d shot and killed really bad guys without breaking a sweat. Sometimes he hadn’t used a bullet but his bare hands. And now just look at him.

He weighed twice what Lauren did. He could bench-press her. Hell, he could bench-press two of her. Yet she somehow reduced him to a wreck, particularly when he thought of someone hurting her.

He could have put it down to sex, but he’d felt this way for four freaking months now and they’d only had sex once. It was off the charts, okay, but still.

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