Top Dog

I watched the realization spread across Abigail's face at those words. There was no doubt in my head that she posted her adventures to social media. Libby too. It was an easy target for anyone to know where they were going to be.

“I’m calling your Dad,” I said, scrolling through her contacts. “We have to get out tonight. We can find out who the people worked for that shot at us soon enough.”

Abigail swallowed thickly. “How soon?”

“Within the next hour or two. When they figure out why they aren’t answering their phones to confirm whether or not they killed you.”

She didn’t say anything to that. I waited for the secretary of Robert’s office to transfer me to his direct line.

“Robert Carter speaking,” he said, annoyance evident in his voice. “This better be an emergency whoever is calling.”

“It’s Harley Jordan,” I said.

“Harley? What is going on?”

Panic filled Robert’s voice instantly as I knew it would. The only person who had the money and connections to get us out safely and fast was Robert.

“We have to get out of Spain,” I said. “Within the next hour preferably. A hit on Abigail had been attempted just now.”

“Oh, God. Please tell me my baby girl is okay.”

“She’s going to be fine.” I glanced over at Abigail who was close to tears. “Can you get us out of Spain? I’ll explain everything once we are in the air.”

“Yes. I will call now.”

I hung up before he could ask anything else. I spotted the hotel and Libby walking up the sidewalk at a hurried pace. I opened the door quickly to pull out Abigail before throwing money at the annoyed driver. He sped off without pausing even to see if the passenger door was shut.

Libby hugged Abigail tightly as they both fell into tears. I ushered them both up the sidewalk while glancing over my shoulder. No sight of Roco, or anyone else that looked familiar to the shooters in the trees.

“What are we going to do?” Libby asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Harley. I should’ve listened to you. I just didn’t think that something like this would happen.”

“We can’t stop to apologize right now,” I said, flatly. We entered the elevators. Once the doors slid shut, I let my hand fall away from the hilt of my gun. “Get all your shit and pack it up in ten minutes. Keep that damn door between our rooms open too.”

“What happened?” Libby asked.

“I don’t know,” Abigail said, holding onto her. “I don’t know. We were down at the beach when someone came up on us shooting.”

“Tried to shoot,” I corrected. “Whoever they were, weren’t good at all. I can tell you that they had shitty aim. Someone hired amateurs to take a hit out on

you.”

Libby looked aghast at the thought. “Who though? Who would come to Madrid to kill Abigail?”

“Someone that her Dad is putting in jail,” I replied, and the elevators dinged open. I glanced out to find the hallway empty. “It’s not that difficult to figure out. Give me your room key.”

Abigail handed it over without question. I did a quick survey of the room before pulling them both in. The startled affect. I could read it on their faces as they stood there together looking about their room with wide eyes. I sucked in a deep breath to keep myself calm as I pulled the door open to my room. Gunfights never fazed me anymore. It was pure adrenaline and instinct that took over now.

“Hurry it up,” I told them. “Get your things. Whatever you leave behind, is what stays behind.”

They moved then. I gathered my things that were packed neatly in one spot out of years of habit of having to move quickly when we needed to. It only took me a few minutes before I had everything gathered.

I entered the room to find them silently throwing things into their suitcases without speaking or looking at one another. While Libby went into the bathroom to gather a few things, I stepped over to where Abigail was zipping up her suitcase with trembling fingers. I reached out to calmly grasp them in mine.

Her eyes were still wide with absolute terror. I pressed a kiss against her right temple, ignoring the fact that it was an intimate gesture. Even if I had spent the past few weeks fighting with her, fighting my desires to have her, I knew how terrified she felt. In just a matter of minutes, her world had came crashing down on her.

“I’ll get you home safely,” I said. “I promise. This is what I was paid to do.”

“I know,” she said, numbly. “You were only paid to protect me from horrible things. Go figure that it actually happened. At least I had someone in the Special Forces there to shoot back.”