7. Luke

Iwas out of the taxi and stalking up the front walk of the estate before the car came to a full stop, Elijah hot on my heels.

The twin gargoyles glared down at us as we reached the front door, but I didn't have time to glare back at them. I'd waited long enough back at the parking lot, through a paramedic examination and then a witness statement for the police.

Both had taken much too long. With the exception of a few stray bruises, I was uninjured, thanks to Elijah's quick instincts. And I had little information to report, given I'd been bungee jumping when the bomb was likely planted beneath the car. Elijah had straight-up refused the paramedics, then had what appeared to be an extremely tense phone call. He was saying something to me now, but I ignored him.

Couldn't ignore Preston, however, prowling down the hallway outside Dad's office with a pinched look on his face.

"Please tell me I did not just receive a call about someone trying to blow you up," he said.

I forced a cheery smile. "And I'm fine, thank you."

He narrowed his gaze, first at me and then to Elijah, hovering close. "You've had this job for three days and you've already angered somebody? How lovely."

"This one's on Dad, not me. Elijah told me that he'd been getting more death threats than usual right before he died."

Preston's face darkened. "He…he what?"

My eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "You didn't know? I thought Dad told you everything."

"He does…um, he did," Preston said, clearing his throat. "It must have slipped his mind. There was a lot going on. Still is, starting with the unfortunate fact that Dad's assistant, Adrian, quit ten days ago and we currently have no one in place to manage your schedule and your meetings. Also, the Sunrise Village project continues to be absolutely fucked. We need to figure something out as soon as possible. Regardless of my termination, I still want to further Dad's legacy instead of burning it to the ground."

"Little soon, don't you think?" I clicked my tongue. "I was literally almost burned to the ground an hour ago."

Preston gave a mirthless laugh. "Will you take something seriously, Lucas? For once in your life?"

It was a direct hit—and much too close to what Elijah had said to me moments before the car bomb went off. Nor have I had the distinct privilege of inheriting a billion-dollar company without having to do a goddamn thing.

But before I could answer, Elijah's hand shot out, stopping Preston from following us into the office. "I'm sorry, Mr. Beaumont. Luke requires a few minutes of peace and quiet to recover from the attack made on his life. Please wait outside."

Then he slammed the door in my brother's face.

Call it a side effect of the explosion, but watching Elijah slam the door on Preston was the biggest turn-on of my entire life. Though that wasn't counting what happened at the parking lot—Elijah pinning me to the ground with ease. Using his broad body to cover my own.

Which was possibly a messed-up thing to say. The man was trying to save my life, not seduce me. But I was obsessed with the heavy weight of his palm on my chest, shoving me down. The taut lines of his throat, his knees straddling my hips.

Elijah caught my eye and held out a glass of water, ostensibly mistaking my daydreaming for a trauma response. "Luke? You've had a shock. You should sit."

"Sit?"

He indicated the luxurious couch behind me. The cushions were a bold red, and a series of paintings from the Baroque era hung on the wall behind it. They were oversized, highly detailed, depicting various bloody hunting scenes. Dead boars, supine foxes, victorious men on horseback.

As a kid, I'd hated those paintings. There was a reason I'd become a vegetarian.

Shuddering, I stayed standing and accepted the water. "Thank you, Elijah."

"It's nothing."

I shook my head. "Not for the water. For protecting me from a fiery bomb blast. You didn't have to do that."

He pressed his lips together. "Technically, I'm paid to do that."

"Right, yes," I said quickly. "If we didn't have a contract, you would have let the bomb take me out, huh?"

He ignored my joke, his gaze sliding to the floor. "I should have been watching the parking lot more closely. This is on me, Luke."

That snapped me out of it. I brushed past him and made my way to my father's gigantic desk. Started pulling out drawers, riffling through the papers that had been left there.

"You were right, Elijah. About everything."

"I'm sorry?"

I glanced up with a grin. "What was it you were telling me a couple days ago? Some letter addressed to me, asking about a flash drive?"

With a short nod, Elijah closed the distance between us and pulled out his phone to show me a picture of it. The message was scrawled on plain white paper.

I know you have the flash drive. Give it back or you won't like what I do next.

I tapped the screen. "See, it's just like you said. Someone was coming after him and now they're coming for me. This flash drive they're asking about, that tells me that Dad had secrets. Was keeping secrets, possibly dangerous ones. And that's the kind of information I can use."

Elijah eyed me narrowly. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"I need a way out of this," I said, indicating the room around us. "If Dad hadn't put so many restrictions on things, Preston would already be here, kicking me out. And I'd be overjoyed to leave. So the only way I can think to challenge the will is by forcing open a loophole. Find this flash drive or find the person behind it, and figure out who he was screwing over. If I can dig up some dirt on him, dirt that carries weight, then I'll use that to threaten the board, to threaten the lawyers, with going public. The last thing they'll want is anything tarnishing Lincoln Beaumont's sterling reputation, destroying his legacy here in Cape Avalon."

My father was a monster who hid in plain sight, who gathered up accolades and achievements while terrorizing Preston and me behind closed doors. And his behavior had only grown worse after our mother died when I was ten.

We were reminders of his loss, and grief, like every other emotion, was nothing more than weakness dressed up in finer clothing.

If he was going to harness me to his ill-gotten legacy, I was going to ensure the world knew exactly what kind of person he really was. But I needed something big, something dramatic, to move the board to action. In the rare moments when I felt safe enough to share my experiences growing up, I either wasn't believed or was completely dismissed.

The sparkling sheen of his privilege and wealth protected him in more ways than I could count—especially in the rooms that mattered and to the people with influence.

Elijah opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. I watched him struggle, probably more comfortable with being a silent presence in the background.

I tipped my head to the side. "You have something to say."

His jaw tightened. "It's not important."

"We did just survive a car bombing together. Just say it, Elijah. You should know by now that I don't give a shit about whatever rules you're supposed to be following."

"Yes, that's been made very apparent to me."

"And…?"

"The car bomb was a clear escalation," he explained. "Whoever did it wanted to harm you—or at the very least intimidate you. Before your father died, the frequency of death threats and harassment had increased. We were tailed, multiple times. This very office was broken into. Twice. Though Lincoln didn't believe they succeeded in taking anything."

I jerked my chin at the photo on his phone. "Maybe they were searching for this mystery flash drive the letter referenced?"

Elijah hesitated. "Maybe. But to be clear, none of this means your father was the instigator. These people could be seeking revenge for something pointless, a transgression they invented. In fact, that's the more likely reason. Lincoln was famous and wealthy. He worked with celebrities and politicians. That's enough to attract this kind of unwanted attention. I've done this job long enough to recognize the pattern."

He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. When it finally landed back on me, he said, "I was your father's lead protection agent for five years. Don't you think I would have known if he was engaging in something nefarious?"

A thousand light bulbs blazed to life in my brain. "That's right," I said slowly. "You were by his side nonstop. Probably traveled to meetings and dinners that were never recorded in his planner. Because he trusted you." I snapped my fingers. "You could help me, Elijah. We could do this together."

"Your father trusted me because I was bound by confidentiality. It's what he paid for."

I propped my hands on my hips. "Yeah, well…he's dead. I'm here, totally fucking alive, and asking for your help."

Elijah rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Luke. I am here to help. An entire team of people is here to help. As your bodyguards. I'm contractually obligated to keep you alive every day that you're in my care. But do not ask me to go on some wild goose chase to dig up secrets your father probably didn't have."

I tapped the picture on his phone again. "Does this letter really read as a potential wild goose chase to you?"

He tipped forward, lowering his voice. "The letter is concerning to me and my team because of the intent. It doesn't mean its claims are true. In my experience, the why of these things matters less than understanding if they have the means to carry out acts of violence. Let law enforcement handle the why. That's their job. We're here to prevent the violence from happening."

I studied Elijah for a long moment—the sharp line of his shoulders, his rigid posture, not a single hair out of place even after a car bomb.

The man was too honorable for his own good. But I didn't want this job. I wanted revenge.

Rounding the desk, I stepped closer to Elijah. "But you are aware of some of his secrets. You know about Harriet, right?'

He didn't even blink. "We're aware of your father's blood relations. All of them. Just as I'm aware she was with you this morning when I picked you up."

"Did his file indicate what he did to her? What he did to her mother?"

"Having an affair isn't a crime, Luke," he said softly. "Even if some of us find it abhorrent."

I didn't have to guess who some of us was. "You already know one of his secrets, and it's a big one. All I'm asking is for you to help me go from there. Attempt to track down who's behind all of this. What do you think?"

His dark eyes hardened. "I think what you're asking of me is not only well beyond my job description, it's morally dubious at best."

I cracked a grin. "Life's more fun in the gray area, Elijah."

"No. It's not," he said simply.

He stared at me and I fought like hell to hold it. I had another card up my sleeve, but I wasn't looking forward to using it. Finally, I said, "I'll cancel your contract."

Irritation blazed across his face. "What did you say?"

I twisted at the waist and grabbed the contract I'd seen on top of a pile of papers at the edge of the desk. "Help me do this or I'll fire you and every one of your coworkers."

There was a heavy beat of silence and then his upper lip curled back in a snarl. "Backing me into a corner isn't the best way to start a working relationship that relies on trust. Yes, your father could be ruthless. I didn't expect you to be as well."

The words hit their intended target but I barreled through the discomfort. "Call it what you like, but I need something from you, and you need something from me."

"I need you to let me do my damn job. You've already had one attempt made on your life. Another will come. If I lose this contract, I'll lose my job. Same goes if I let you die on my watch."

"You don't want me to die? That's so sweet."

"Lucas," he growled, and all the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

We stood like that—in a total stand-off—until I gave in, pinching the bridge of my nose with a sigh. "Let me ask you this. If you found out your client was doing evil shit, what would you do about it? And I'm not asking what your job says you should do. I'm asking what you, Elijah Knight, would do."

Elijah dropped my gaze to stare out the window.

"He hurt me," I said, hoping my voice sounded steady. "He hurt Preston. He hurt people that I love deeply, people I would do anything for. I know I just came at you with this wild idea, but you have to believe I'm doing this for the right reasons."

His throat worked on a swallow, and he released a controlled but furious breath through his nose. When he turned back to face me, his scowl was extremely…murder-y. He snatched the contract from my hand and slammed it onto the desk.

"Sign the new contract with my company first and you've got a deal."

"Happily," I said with a shrug, then signed with a flourish.

Elijah scanned my signature before holding it just out of my reach. "You will follow every one of my instructions for your own safety. Do you understand? You will give me advanced warning of where you're going so my team can assess it. You will inform me of the people in your life so I can research them. You will refrain from?—"

My stomach dropped. "Please don't say it?—"

"Yes, I will say it, because I'm the expert here and you're not," he said sternly. "You will refrain from any of your usual hobbies, including those that put your life at greater risk. And before you ask, I'll tell you why. Whoever did this today was serious. They fit my car with an explosive that could have killed us both. Throwing yourself out of airplanes just gives them an easier way to kill you."

I bristled at the implication that I didn't value my own life enough to take the requisite safety precautions. Quite the opposite. Thrill-seeking, for me, was about the preciousness of life. About grabbing onto every opportunity I could, like squeezing every last drop of juice from a lemon.

"Fine," I said, irked at the spark of victory in his expression. "But let me see this thing again."

My eyes glazed over at the legal jargon I probably should have read before signing so confidently. But I homed in on the last paragraph on the third page. Pointing to it, I said, "What does this mean exactly? No fraternization between agents and their clients, past or present. I can't like…buy you a beer?"

He frowned. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you had a bad day?"

"Whether I had a good day or a bad one doesn't matter," he said. "Every single thing that doesn't serve to protect you is a distraction."

Elijah Knight was the fucking distraction. This close, he smelled crisp, like the coastal storms that sent wind rippling down the beach. And his tie was so impeccably knotted it looked unreal, though I could easily picture his long fingers folding the fabric just right.

The adrenaline still coursing beneath my skin had me feeling extra reckless. Had me imagining my hand closing around that tie and slowly, slowly, tugging him forward.

I wondered what, if anything, unraveled this man.

Wondered if he'd ever consider unraveling me.

"We're not friends then?" I asked, just to watch the muscle in his jaw twitch.

"If we became friends, my boss would have grounds to fire me immediately," he said. "Blurred boundaries and unprofessional behavior lead to mistakes we cannot afford. There's no room for error when lives are on the line."

That hadn't stopped him from speaking his mind earlier.

You're about to fire a group of highly trained security specialists just to be petty.

It was embarrassing how easily he'd seen through my bullshit. Maybe blurring those lines with Elijah was more dangerous than I thought.

I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off by the high whine of metal, the creaking of wood, the soft tinkling of glass from the chandelier above our heads. It pulled my attention up, so I didn't see Elijah reach for me. But he did, hooking an arm around my waist and shoving me behind his body. I stumbled as he moved us both backward, but he caught a handful of my shirt and kept me upright.

Then we watched that very same chandelier crash to the floor exactly where we'd been standing. I covered my head as glass flew outright, showering the room with tiny shards. As I carefully blinked my eyes open, I realized Elijah had taken the brunt of it. In the sudden hush, I could hear people running down the hall, raised voices and shouts.

Panting, I said, "Holy shit, are you okay?"

My bodyguard brushed glass from his shoulders with a single eyebrow raised. "That's why you don't want me distracted."