Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)
Deciding to leave him a note, she found a notepad and scribbled a quick message, then left it propped against the lamp on the bedside table. It was best if she slipped out for a little while, offered comfort and an ear to Suzanne and then come back.
Besides, she wanted to prove to Mason that Suzanne was perfectly harmless. Maybe she’d even ask her about the fake name and whatnot. If she could get Suzanne to confess her past, maybe that would bring them closer.
Leaning over him, she dropped a quick kiss to his stubble-roughened cheek. She grabbed her purse from where it rested on her dresser and quietly snuck out of the house.
* * * *
The place was small, just as Suzanne had described, with a giant pine tree that took over the entire front yard and blocked the door and windows. An unfamiliar older model sedan sat in the gravel driveway and Blake parked behind it, wondering who it belonged to.
Was someone at Suzanne’s house? God, could it be the guy she was referring to?
She cut the engine and sat, contemplating what she should do. Call first and make sure Suzanne was all right? Or just walk in and bust up whatever kind of conflict might be happening inside?
Deciding the latter tactic, Blake climbed out of the car and ran toward the front door, whipping the hood of her coat over her head. The rain still fell steadily, the air so bitterly cold, it stole her breath. She shuffled up the slippery steps, rapidly knocking on the front door.
Suzanne opened it, her face a mask of extreme exhaustion, her skin pale, her eyes droopy. She looked so terrible, Blake had to stifle the gasp that wanted to spill.
“Suzanne.” She couldn’t come up with anything else to say. Her friend appeared ill, her normally olive skin had a greenish tint to it and her dark eyes which usually flashed with vitality looked…dead.
“Come in.” Suzanne opened the door wider and Blake walked inside, a blast of chilled air greeting her. She shivered, reluctant to take her coat off though she at least pushed back the rain spattered hood.
The living area was dark, the furniture sparse and old, though it appeared Suzanne at least decorated as well as she could, considering what she worked with.
“It’s kind of—brisk in here.” Blake rubbed her hands together, wishing she’d worn gloves.
Suzanne shrugged. “I try not to run the heat too much. It doesn’t work that well anyway. Besides, I can’t afford it.”
Blake’s heart panged. She had no clue what it was like, unable to pay the bills, having to make sacrifices.
It made her feel guilty.
“Too bad you don’t have a fireplace.” Blake glanced about the room, then turned to smile at Suzanne. “You could light a fire. That would at least keep this room warm and it’s cheaper than running the heat.”
“Yeah.” Suzanne didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation. She kept looking down the short hallway that must’ve led to the bedrooms, her gaze skittering to it again and again.
Blake struggled to find something to say. After all, it was Suzanne who begged her to come here. Why wasn’t she talking? “Is someone here? There’s a strange car parked in the driveway.”
“Listen.” Suzanne to
ok a step toward her, so close she could speak directly in her ear. She lowered her voice. “I need to talk to you, Blake. Quickly, before he comes back out. Is your shadow here?”
Blake wrinkled her brows. Anxiety rolled off Suzanne in giant waves, she could practically smell her friend’s fear and worry. “My shadow?”
“You know, your Secret Service agent, the guy who’s always watching over you.” Suzanne glanced toward the hallway yet again. “We need him to come inside. Now.”
“But he didn’t come with me. You said you needed to talk so I figured you’d want some privacy.” Panic surged through Blake and her heart started to trip over itself. This wasn’t good. Whatever was happening, Suzanne was clearly close to losing it.
“He didn’t come? He didn’t follow you? Shit!” Suzanne grabbed Blake’s arm so tight it hurt, even through the thick layers of her sweater and coat. “You need to get out of here. Get out and go get your agent man. Hurry.”
Blake shook off Suzanne’s death grip and headed toward the front door, her mind racing. The one time she didn’t tell Mason she left and now she was in some sort of perilous situation?
Mason was going to kill her. Especially after last night’s discussion and the way he’d warned her off Suzanne. He’d been right. Something was wrong with her. And Blake was almost too scared to find out what.
“Maybe you should call the police too. Yeah, call them. Without him here, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I have my phone.” Blake dug into her too large purse, searching for her cell yet unable to find it. It always sunk straight to the bottom of her bag and she blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll call Mason.”
“You need to leave. Call him but get out of the house. Hurry.”