Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Miguel

I arrive at the office building fifteen minutes before my early-morning appointment with my boss, Shane McIntyre. I have just enough time to stop by the martial arts studio to say hi to one of my best friends—Liam McIntyre, Shane’s youngest brother. Liam and his girlfriend, Jasmine, are teaching a women’s self-defense class for new hires. I watch through the glass viewing window as they demonstrate some maneuvers to the students.

Jasmine smiles bigtime as she catches sight of me. She waves, and I return the gesture. It’s good to see her looking so happy. Only months ago, she was living on the streets, selling her body just to survive. That is, until she met Liam. Now she’s happy and safe and looking forward to a bright future.

Liam catches my gaze and gives me a thumb’s up. I wave as I walk away. With five minutes to spare, I take an elevator up to the twentieth floor, where the executive offices are located.

Shane called me late last night and asked me to come meet a new client this morning—well, meet the new client’s godfather anyway. The actual client is the man’s 24-year-old goddaughter, Ruby Foster.

When I approach Shane’s office, the door is partially open, so I peer inside. Shane’s seated behind his big mahogany desk, and there’s an older, gray-haired gentleman seated across from him. The man’s dressed in a brown corduroy jacket, a red plaid shirt, and khaki trousers—he’s definitely got a professor vibe to him. This must be the godfather, the guy who’s hiring me.

Shane spots me loitering in the doorway and waves me in. “Perfect timing, Miguel. Take a seat.”

I suck in a breath before walking in and take the empty chair next to the client.

Shane leans back in his black leather chair. “Mr. McCall, this is Miguel Rodriguez, the bodyguard I’m assigning to your case. Based on everything you’ve told me about your goddaughter, I think Miguel is the perfect person to assess her situation.”

The man seated beside me smiles as he offers his hand, and we shake. “Nice to meet you, Miguel. Your boss here—” he nods toward Shane “—speaks very highly of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say.

Shane gestures to me. “Edward, why don’t you bring Miguel up to date on what you’ve told me?”

McCall sighs. “Ruby, my goddaughter, lives alone in an apartment in Wicker Park. She’s lived there for two years now—and never once has she stepped foot outside her apartment. She suffers from agoraphobia, as well as anxiety and paranoia. She experienced a terrible tragedy when she was young—the poor girl witnessed the murder of her own mother. Despite what happened to her, I think Ruby’s doing relatively well all things considered. She completed a university degree in art—online, of course—and got herself an apartment. She’d been living with her father up until then, but sadly their relationship has deteriorated over the years, ever since Helen’s—Ruby’s mother’s—death. Ruby lives a very frugal lifestyle, and she manages to support herself from her work as an artist.”

McCall shifts in his chair to face me directly. “Helen Foster was a dear, dear friend of mine. We met at University of Chicago and became inseparable friends. Shortly after she graduated, she married Allen Foster, a financial investment broker here in Chicago. They had one child—Ruby. When Ruby was eight, she and her mother were out shopping in downtown Chicago. As they were returning to their car parked in a public parking garage, they were the victims of a carjacking. Ruby was already buckled into the backseat when Helen was pulled out of the driver’s seat. When she fought back, the assailant shot and killed Helen right in front of Ruby. As you can imagine, the poor child was traumatized. The carjacker took off with Ruby in the car. He drove around the city for hours before he finally dropped her off at a convenience store in South Chicago.”

“Ruby was never the same after that,” McCall says. Frowning, he shakes his head. “She developed a deep-seated belief that the world isn’t safe. Honestly, can you blame her? She’s coping as best she can, but things have taken a turn for the worse over the past year. She claims someone is terrorizing her—that she has a stalker. Allen—her father—thinks it’s all in her head. He’s been pressuring her to move back home with him, but Ruby refuses.” Edward slumps back in his chair, looking defeated.

“Allen had Ruby in therapy for years when she was younger,” he continues. “She’s taken a variety of prescription medications over the years, but nothing has helped. Since the carjacking, she did all of her schooling online from home. When she graduated from the university at twenty-two, she moved out on her own. By that time, she’d already built a career for herself as an artist.”

Shane nods to me. “Miguel, your assignment is to determine whether or not Miss Foster’s claims are valid.”

I turn to McCall. “Do you think her claims are valid?”

The man nods. “I believe her. Ruby has her challenges, no doubt, but I’ve never known her to make things up. If she says someone is stalking her, then I’m inclined to believe her—which is why I’m here.”

I nod. “When do I start?”

“Today, if you can,” McCall says, looking hopeful. “The sooner we get her some help, the better.”

“I’ll text you her address,” Shane says to me. “I’ve recommended to Mr. McCall that you stay with Miss Foster in her apartment. Hopefully, we’ll soon have an idea as to what’s going on.”

“I’ll need to make a quick stop at my place to pack a bag,” I say.

“Why don’t you meet Mr. McCall at Ruby’s apartment around—” Shane looks to the client “—when? Ten o’clock?”

McCall nods. “Perfect. I’ll call Ruby to let her know what time to expect us.”

* * *

After a quick trip back to my apartment to pack a bag, I head to the address Shane gave me. When I arrive at an older red-brick apartment building, I drive around back and park in the visitor section. It’s not a big building. It looks to be four apartments wide, three floors high, front and back units. Twenty-four units in all. The rear parking lot is pretty well kept. There’s no trash lying around or weeds busting through the pavement. Beyond the parking lot is a small neighborhood park.

I sit for a few minutes in my car and study the building. Three floors, wooden balconies for each of the rear units. From what I can see, it looks like a decent place. It might be on the older side, but it looks well kept, at least from the outside.

A moment later, a sleek, black Mercedes pulls into the parking lot and slips into the open space beside me. Edward McCall gets out of his car and waves when he sees me doing the same.

I nod in greeting as I grab my duffle bag. “Mr. McCall.”

He chuckles. “Please, call me Edward.” He heads for the rear door. “This way.”

I follow him up the cement walkway and wait while he presses an intercom button. There’s a loud buzz followed by a lengthy silence.

He frowns and pushes the button again. “Come on, kiddo. Answer the intercom.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “Having a stranger come over is really pushing her outside her comfort zone.”

A moment later, a wary female voice says, “Yes?”

“Ruby, honey, it’s Edward. I’m here with Miguel from the security company.”

She hesitates a moment before saying, “All right.” She sounds resigned and far from happy about it.

The lock buzzes, and McCall opens it and motions for me to step inside. The interior is cool, a pleasant contrast to the warm summer air heating up outside. The place smells faintly of disinfectant and lemon-scented floor polish. I follow McCall up the stairs to the second floor.

We stop in front of an apartment marked 2B.

McCall knocks on the door. “Ruby, honey, it’s Edward.”

When several seconds pass with nothing but silence on the other side of the door, McCall glances at me. “This isn’t easy for her,” he murmurs. “Please be patient with her. Take things slowly and work on gaining her trust. She doesn’t give it easily.” Edward knocks again. “Ruby, it’s okay, honey. Please open the door.”

I hear the quiet, tell-tale snick of a deadbolt turning. Then another. And another. Three deadbolts. The door opens a crack, stopped from opening any farther by a chain lock. The gap is just enough that I can see one pretty blue eye gazing warily through the opening. She glances at her godfather first, then at me. Her eye widens as she scans me from head to toe.

I can only imagine what she’s thinking. I’m a big guy, tall, and dark. I know I can come across as intimidating to those who don’t know me.

“Hi, Ruby,” I say, giving her my most nonthreatening smile. “I’m Miguel. It’s nice to meet you.”

The door closes abruptly, and then I hear the chain slide free. When the door opens once more, McCall slowly pushes it wide open and motions for me to step inside.

Immediately, my gaze lands on a young woman with long, wavy red hair, a pale complexion, and a light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are clear blue.

My heart slams into my ribs, and I can’t look away.

The first word that comes to mind is otherworldly. She’s stunning and delicate, like an angel or a fairy. Immediately, I find myself having to tamp down anger. If someone is stalking this girl—terrorizing her—I will find him, and I will end him.