Bulletproof Badge

The motorcycle screeched to a halt, sliding sideways in the gravel. Her rescuer slowly took off across the field, avoiding the closed front gate.

“Hold on tight.”

She didn’t think she could hold tighter until her bottom was airborne over the first incline. Had she left the safety of the house for a dangerous daredevil? Had it been safe at the house? Absolutely not. And how did she know for certain this man wasn’t a part of the...the...

Go ahead and say it. Murders! The man dressed in black had murdered two people right in front of her, then stared openmouthed as she’d screamed. This wasn’t the killer. His dark green eyes proved that. The man she’d fought with was just as tall, but his eyes were black with hatred.

She’d never forget those eyes.

They flew over the next small hill, landing hard on both tires.

“Slow down before your kill us!” she shouted in his ear.

“Can’t. They’re following. May start shooting.”

She turned behind them, her hair whipped across her face. Sure enough, a black SUV bounced over the rolling hills of the Texas lake country. The motorcycle skidded, and she held tighter. If the men shot at them, she’d be dead. Period.

Her rescuer turned sharply, heading toward a tree line. “Where are you going?”

“Where they can’t.”

The trees were so thick she didn’t think they could get through, either. He slowed a little, but zigzagged, tilting them from side to side, making her want to put her feet out to drag along the ground. She kept them secured and kept her body smooshed against the stranger’s back, moving like a second layer with him.

Bushes whacked at her legs as they zoomed past. The branches stung but suddenly stopped. The first thing she saw was the perfectly smooth carpet of green. She looked behind them, and no one followed. The SUV turned and followed on the other side of the trees for a few seconds before turning away.

“Hey!”

Someone shouted, making her look forward. They were on a golf course, bouncing yet again over the greenway to a cart path. Once there, the ride was smoother, but her hero didn’t slow. If anything, he went even faster. It was a Friday night at dusk, and the golfers were finishing their rounds. So they were few and far between on the earlier holes they’d zipped past.

Kenderly only relaxed a little. This time when her eyes closed, they were burning with tears for Isabella. No one deserved to die that way.

He was right. Her hero. They couldn’t stop. Her unnamed rescuer popped over curbs, into a parking lot and on to the street. He ran stop signs, passed other cars as if they were standing still and just kept going.

Once on Highway 71 leading back to Austin, he wrapped his long fingers around her thigh and gently tugged her close again. His subtle message was that their wild ride wasn’t over. She moved, resting her head once more on his back. They rocketed through the wind, which didn’t allow for talking.

She couldn’t have answered any of his questions or any of the thousands running through her mind. Isabella had given her a small jewelry case and told her not to open it for three days.

Oh no! The case! She’d dropped it somewhere. She’d been so out of it by losing her cookies all over the guard’s feet that she’d forgotten. What had Isabella not wanted anyone to know? Why was she supposed to wait three days? Kenderly wasn’t sure she’d ever know now.

Her hero stroked her frozen forearm, slowly warming it back to life against his chest. When she cried harder, he held on to her hands tighter.

It didn’t matter who he was. He’d probably saved her life. Okay, he’d definitely saved her life. But that was only one reason she was thankful. The stranger’s actions in the past few minutes were more intimacy and kindness than she’d felt in years.

Chapter Two (#ulink_4afd39f0-c5dd-5276-bc46-5242640c14d0)

The arm under Garrison’s hand was no longer frozen. Early spring in Texas was fine with lots of sunshine on you, but once it got dark—and speeding in excess of seventy miles per hour—you could get chilled to the bone.

“You can let me off anywhere,” she said as he slowly merged with city traffic near the university hangouts.

“I don’t think so, sweetie. No discussion necessary.” He sped up again to limit the conversation.

“But I need to go back. I have to.”

Darting between stopped cars, the horns blared as he pushed safely through red lights. He had to keep moving, so she couldn’t jump off. Go back? She was the ranger’s big break, and he couldn’t let her disappear.

“Let me go at the next corner, or I’ll start screaming my head off,” she shouted, piercing his ear.

“We have a head start, but we’re still being followed.” It was logical to think so. There was only one road back to Austin from the crime scene. It didn’t make sense that Tenoreno’s men would give up because of a row of trees. He slowed the bike to a more normal speed. “After I rescued you and everything, screaming just wouldn’t be cool.”

“Neither is kidnapping.”

“Come on, Kenderly. We both know I’m not kidnapping you. I saved your a— I got you out of there safely,” he amended. “Why the hell do you want to go back?”

“I appreciate it. I really do. But there’s something I... I just want to go home.” She sat straighter, pulling away from him.

He immediately missed her soft breasts pushed against his back. He needed both hands to control the bike, or he’d pull her closer again. Instead he pulled into a parking lot, darted to the side of the building and cut the engine. He twisted a bit on the seat to face her and reached into his pocket.

“Is this what you need to go back for?” He held up the smaller case he’d picked up from her seat. “The purse strap got stuck on the gear shift. I couldn’t get that. You tossed this to me at the balcony.”

“Oh my God, thank you so much.” She reached for it, but he kept it high above her head.

“I’m thinking I should have a look inside.”

“No. You don’t understand. It isn’t mine.”

“Then I especially need to look inside.”

“Just who do you think you are? A hotshot waiter with a fast motorcycle has no right—”

“Lieutenant Garrison Travis, Company F, Texas Rangers. Temporarily on assignment in Austin.” He wanted to pop whatever lock was on that case, but he didn’t have anything with him. “I’m sorry that you can’t go home. They’ll be waiting there. They know who you are.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” She grabbed his upper arm. Her hand shook a bit. She was either shivering in her short sleeves or from the shock of everything that had happened.

“They don’t know that. Plus, you saw the killer.” He shrugged out of his split jacket and flipped it around her shoulders, holding it until she slipped her arms through the sleeves. “You’re coming home with me. It’s your only option.”

“Are you crazy? I don’t know you. Where’s your ID? Just take me to the nearest police station, and we can tell them what we saw.” She swung her leg over the back of the bike and took off. “They’ll protect me if I need it.”

“I can help you,” he called after her. “And that’s smart, asking for my ID. But I don’t carry it while I’m undercover.”

“You did help, and I thank you. But the police need to know what I witnessed. I’m sure I broke a law or something leaving the scene of a crime.” She backed up across the run-down parking lot in a short fancy skirt and his torn tux jacket. She might trip in her heels. “Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Come on, get back on the bike.” He threw one of his best smiles at her, attempting to make his witness feel more comfortable. But she wasn’t reacting like the rest of the women in his life.

Maybe because she’d just seen two of her friends executed, and someone was trying to kill her. Maybe he should change tactics.

“No.”

“Well, I’ll need my jacket. It’s a rental.” Fortunately, he’d dropped the murder weapon in the cycle’s saddlebags, so it was safe. He dug his cell from his front pants pocket. “I’m going to dial a number, and you can confirm my identity. Then I’m taking you to my place.”