Texas Bodyguard--Luke, page 1
Luke checked over his shoulder. Still no sign of the attackers.
This almost felt worse than actually seeing them. If they weren’t in sight, Luke didn’t know where they were, and he liked to always have an eye on his enemies.
He and Claire crossed not far from where he’d parked when gruff male voices from around the corner made them freeze. Luke yanked her down with him behind the side of a dumpster.
Claire let out a low whimper and shrank into herself. Luke put a hand on her arm and pulled her to his side. But her cat, Kahn, decided he’d had enough of being held and slipped through her crooked elbow. As Claire gasped, Kahn jumped onto a nearby trash can, toppling it with a loud crash.
“What was that?” one of the men asked.
Claire reached out for Kahn, but Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her back. She loved that cat, but he wasn’t letting her get killed for it.
TEXAS BODYGUARD: LUKE
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Janie Crouch
Janie Crouch has loved to read romance her whole life. This USA TODAY bestselling author cut her teeth on Harlequin Romance novels as a preteen, then moved on to a passion for romantic suspense as an adult. Janie lives with her husband and four children overseas. She enjoys traveling, long-distance running, movie watching, knitting and adventure/obstacle racing. You can find out more about her at janiecrouch.com.
Books by Janie Crouch
Harlequin Intrigue
San Antonio Security
Texas Bodyguard: Luke
The Risk Series: A Bree and Tanner Thriller
Calculated Risk
Security Risk
Constant Risk
Risk Everything
Omega Sector: Under Siege
Daddy Defender
Protector’s Instinct
Cease Fire
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Luke Patterson—One of the four boys adopted as a teenager by Clinton and Sheila Patterson. Before being adopted, he lived at one of the worst San Antonio group homes that was later shut down. Owns San Antonio Security with his brothers.
Claire Wallace—Introverted software designer who spent some time at the same group home as Luke. Likes Khan, her Maine coon cat, much more than she likes people.
Brax Patterson—Most charming and outgoing of the Patterson brothers. Don’t let the smile fool you.
Weston Patterson—Most quiet and serious of the Patterson brothers. Often underestimated.
Chance Patterson—Oldest of the Patterson brothers, and the most strategic. The caretaker.
Vance Ballard—Claire’s employer and CEO of Passage Digital. Willing to do whatever it takes for power and wealth.
Maci Ford—San Antonio Security’s office manager.
Sheila and Clinton Patterson—Adoptive parents of the four Patterson brothers.
Since this book is about family, it’s dedicated to Kiddo #1. What a talented, beautiful and resourceful woman you’ve become—you amaze me constantly. Thanks for making me a mom.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Excerpt from Danger on Maui by R. Barri Flowers
Prologue
Everything in this house was clean.
The kitchen had been recently mopped and wiped down to almost sparkling. The bedsheets were freshly laundered; soft, not scratchy like what he was used to. The shower was clean, his clothes were clean, the walls were clean. Everything was clean.
But Luke was dirty.
He’d been at the Pattersons’ house for a month. Hadn’t been hit or kicked by adults or the other three boys who lived here. Kids could sometimes be the most vicious, especially ones feeling like they needed to defend their territory. But not these guys.
Luke had his own room in this giant old house. He definitely hadn’t had his own room at the group home. Or on the streets when he’d run away.
And his door locked. Clinton Patterson, the guy here with his wife, had shown Luke how to use the lock.
That was all great, but Luke still put the wooden desk chair under the doorknob every night. It wouldn’t keep someone out, but it would at least warn him if someone was trying to get in.
The three other boys living here seemed okay. They were all foster kids, and all close to fourteen like Luke. Luke had seen one of them, Brax—what a stupid name—last year for a few days at Skyline Park group home, before Luke had sneaked out again as soon as possible. By the time the cops had caught him and brought him back, Brax was gone.
The other two boys were okay, too. Weston was the quiet Black kid. He hardly ever said anything, but always let Luke play video games with him. The Hispanic kid, Chance, was supersmart. Luke didn’t mind him, either.
This place was way better than Skyline Park. It was probably temporary—great foster parents like Clinton and Sheila didn’t keep kids like Luke long-term. They adopted babies or sweet blonde angels who floated into group homes for a few months and needed someone to look out for them.
At least that was one good thing Luke had done. Maybe a few months in the Patterson house was his reward for helping out the little girl.
He sat up in his bed and swung his legs over the side. He was hungry. It was late and Clinton and Sheila were old as dirt—like forty or something—and had probably gone to bed. He could sneak some stuff like he’d been doing every night.
Because if being here was a reward, he might as well take advantage of it as long as he could. There were no locks on the pantry or fridge here. There was so much, no one even noticed that Luke was stealing food.
Going to bed not hungry had been nice, he wasn’t going to lie.
He got up, still fully dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and moved the chair from the doorknob. He padded down the stairs but stopped when he heard Clinton’s and Sheila’s voices in the kitchen. He was about to turn around and go back to his room when he realized they were talking about him.
He sat on the stairs so he could listen. If they were going to kick him out, it was better if he knew ahead of time.
“I just don’t feel like we’re reaching him, Clint. Even Weston, with his abuse, didn’t take this long for any sort of breakthrough.”
“Give him time.” Clinton’s voice was much deeper. “He’s been alone. On the streets and in that group home. We’ll get it shut down, don’t you worry. Now that social services knows exactly what’s going on, they’ll make changes.”
Sheila gave a shuddery sigh. “I’m just glad he’s here where we can keep him safe.”
A few seconds later, Luke heard chopping.
“Nothing else bad is going to happen to him. Not while he’s in our care.” More chopping. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cutting some carrots and celery sticks.”
Clinton let out a sigh. “It’s after ten thirty at night. Why?”
The chopping resumed. “He comes in every night and gets food. I thought I’d at least make him something nutritious. These vegetables, and I made a sandwich, too. Maybe he’ll eat that. I just want him to know he can have all the food he wants.”
“I love you, Sheila Patterson.” Clinton’s chuckle was muffled, like he was saying it with his lips pressed against something. “Luke is going to love you, too. Give him time.”
The chopping stopped. “He’s been so hurt. He’s been on his own too long. He tries to carry too much. He thinks we’re going to dump him at the first opportunity. I don’t know how—”
“Hey.” He cut her off. “Luke is strong. With the right guidance and nurturing, that strength will grow and flourish. He’s a protector.”
“But he’s also just a boy. I want to hug him... I wish he would let me.”
Luke couldn’t even think of the last time an adult had hugged him. He had no idea what he would do if Sheila tried.
“He will. Someday. When he’s ready. Now put that stuff away and let’s go to bed.”
Luke climbed the rest of the way down the stairs and hid in the dining room until Clinton and Sheila left the kitchen and went up the stairs to their bedroom. Then he slowly walked into the kitchen.
He opened the fridge and grabbed the plate with the sandwich and veggie sticks.
And it was the most delicious food he’d ever eaten.
Chapter One
Claire Wallace wasn’t a hero. No one, by any stretch of the imagination, would ever call her one.
Heroes were outgoi
She, on the other hand, was a relatively slow-moving, rather plain, introverted loner who rarely talked to others unless that “person” happened to be her cat, Khan. Khan didn’t tend to answer back, but that didn’t bother Claire much. She still preferred his company over almost anyone else’s.
Right now, she was sitting where she had sat almost every weekday for the past five years since she graduated from college—at her desk at Passage Digital, a software and phone app development company. Most of the people hired five years ago had moved up the corporate ladder at least a little bit. Claire still worked on the third floor with mostly newbs, fresh out of school with their first career-oriented job.
Not being promoted didn’t bother her much, either. Getting promoted generally required regularly interacting with other people and getting noticed.
Did she have crippling social anxiety? Yep.
Did she plan to tackle that any time soon? Nope.
A hero she was not. So when her coworker/partial boss, Julia Lindsey, emailed her an hour ago to be at her terminal at 10:00 a.m. and that it would make Claire a hero, Claire had been less than enthused. But here she was.
Maybe she wanted to offer Claire a promotion?
But promotions came with more responsibility, and more responsibility came with increased human interaction, and increased human interaction came with...
Claire pressed a hand to her suddenly tight chest. Had someone turned up the office’s heat?
Taking a deep breath, she did her best to shake off the bad feelings.
The clock kept ticking. It was only 10:02, but Julia had always been early to meetings; her punctuality was one of the things Claire had appreciated the most while they were working on the camera phone filter app Julia had conceived.
“Hey.” Claire reached a hand out toward the guy walking by her cubicle, not quite touching him.
Tom? Trent? Terrance?
Who knew? He’d been working there a couple of years, but the two of them had never spoken.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Uh...yeah?”
Claire cleared her throat, swallowing past the lump. “Have you seen Julia?”
Tom-Trent-Terrance shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
Claire nodded and slumped back into her chair. That had been hard enough. She wasn’t asking anybody else.
Julia probably wanted to talk about their cell phone filter app, Gouda. The first version of the app had been hugely popular. The new version they’d been working on—with a much more complex facial recognition matrix—would be able to do so much more.
Teenagers all over the country would be beside themselves with excitement as they were able to morph their faces into all sorts of animals, celebrities and objects.
Or would’ve, until Julia halted all work on Gouda last week. There’d been no explanation given for the project’s sudden stop, which was probably weird.
But, of course, Claire hadn’t asked for reasons. She never did.
Today’s meeting probably wasn’t about the app, anyway. That was over. It was probably related to doughnuts or something. Passing treats out would make anyone an office hero.
Claire’s phone beeped with a text from Julia.
Bring a portable drive to my office ASAP. Get on video chat.
Snatching up a portable drive, Claire did as instructed. Julia’s office was at the other end of the open work space, nice and private, with windows and its own door—exactly the kind of isolated area Claire dreamed of having.
The office was empty, but the computer screen wasn’t. Julia was already on the video chatting app the two of them had used regularly when working on their filter software. Her dark hair hung limp and tangled while bags underlined her eyes.
Taking a seat at the computer, Claire frowned. Julia was usually so polished.
“Are...are you okay?” Claire hated the way her voice shook.
“Listen, we don’t have much time.” Julia leaned closer to the screen. It was then that Claire recognized the board table in the background. Julia was in one of Passage Digital’s executive offices.
Did that mean she’d been called in for a meeting with CEO Vance Ballard? Was Gouda being green-lighted after all?
Julia licked her lips, seeming to not notice the hair falling in her face. “I don’t know who I can trust, but I believe you’re out of this entire mess. It’s gotten more dangerous than I thought.”
Claire’s stomach hardened. “What are you talking about?”
“Gouda. Ballard is using it to steal identification and money...from kids. He’s creating a database to utilize once these preteens become adults. He’ll be able to access their phones and bank accounts.”
They’d known this was a possibility with the camera software. Which was why they’d changed it—spent dozens of hours specifically designing it so the pictures that were taken weren’t stored.
Claire let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh. “No. We took all those sensitive fields out—”
Julia shot a look over her shoulder at the door behind her. “And Ballard put them back in. Hook up the drive. I’m sending you everything that proves Ballard has knowledge about what the camera filters do.”
Claire’s hands shook so much that she wasn’t sure if it was physically possible to connect the drive to the USB port.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. We don’t know what—”
“Claire, we don’t have time. Do it. Hurry.”
Gulping, Claire did as she was told. Oh yeah, she definitely wasn’t hero material.
“We’re going to have to go to law enforcement. Ballard doesn’t know that I know, so we should be able to—” Julia sucked in a breath and glanced over her shoulder again.
The box with Julia’s face went small on Claire’s computer. This meant Julia had turned off the picture on her screen—Claire could see Julia, but nobody on the other end could see Claire.
Vance Ballard strode in with two big security guys behind him. “Trespassing in my office, Julia? That’s a shame...it truly is.”
The Passage Digital CEO’s voice was smooth and calm—making it even more frightening. He patted his graying hair as he strolled closer to Julia and the camera. Claire had only spoken to the older man once, muttering an apology when she bumped into him in the hall.
“I just left some papers I needed to pick up. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have come in here without permission. I’m sorry.” Julia sounded nervous and high-pitched—the opposite of Ballard.
“You left papers on my laptop?” Ballard raised an eyebrow. “Convenient.”
Claire looked over at the drive. Whatever Julia was sending was still transferring.
It didn’t take long for Ballard to realize it, either.
“Oh, Julia, what have you done?” He shook his head and reached for his laptop.
The transfer to the drive stopped. Now Ballard’s face took up most of the screen as he typed. At the very edge of what the camera captured, Claire could see Julia backing up until one of the large guards stopped her, holding her arm.
“Looks like you were transferring some pretty important data to your office,” he tsked as he turned to glance at Julia.
“I’m not going to let you steal all these people’s identities.” Julia tried to jerk herself away from the guard, but he held her tight. “And these filters are mostly for children. There are even more laws against that.”
Ballard shook his head. “You should’ve just minded your own business. I gave you the perfect out. Told you I’d take care of it. You should’ve looked the other way.”
He nodded at the man holding Julia and almost before Claire could process what was happening, the man grabbed Julia by the head and snapped her neck.
Claire clapped her hand over her mouth as she watched Julia’s body hit the ground, her eyes still open staring toward the laptop.
“Take care of this.” Ballard gestured toward Julia. “Make sure the body is found far away from this building and that it looks like an accident.”
Claire pressed a hand to her chest, her heart thumping uncontrollably against her shaking fingers.
Julia was dead.
