Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Wren wondered what she was doing for the hundredth time. She was staying? At a stranger's home? It was crazy. Ridiculous. Stupid.

And yet, she couldn't deny that being here in Bo's little house made her feel…safe.

She nearly snorted at that. Figured that the guy's nickname was Safe and he made her feel exactly that way. But it was true. After the initial panic when she'd woken up and realized she didn't know where she was, she'd calmed after seeing the note he'd left. He'd given her a choice, and that was one thing she hadn't had much in her life while growing up.

And then the cereal thing had further relaxed her. Any man who had a pantry stuffed with sugary cereal, and actually enjoyed eating it, was a man she wanted to get to know.

The physical appeal was obvious. He was tall, over six feet. Had thick light brown hair that stuck up all over his head when he ran his fingers through it, a closely cropped beard and mustache, light brown eyes that were intense when focused on her. And a tattoo. She wasn't a tattoo kind of girl, but she couldn't deny the snake image on his right arm was hot.

Yes, it was safe to say—Wren tried not to snort at herself for the pun—she was drawn to Bo. But looks could be deceiving. She'd learned that the hard way. Her own mom was very well put together, tall, slender, beautiful…and a deceitful, lying, depraved bitch. And the men she'd brought into their house were just as bad.

So she knew better than to trust someone based on their looks. She wanted to learn all she could about Bo Cyders. What his childhood was like. What he did in his free time. How he interacted with his friends. Those were the things that would tell her a lot about him as a person.

She thought she'd vetted Matt Smith, but she'd been wrong— very wrong. So maybe the things she'd thought she needed to know about someone weren't actually very good metrics on what kind of person they were after all.

"What are you frowning about?" Bo asked.

They'd moved back to the dining table to plan the "mission" to her apartment. Wren had thought Bo was kind of cute when he'd pulled out some paper and began to draw the roads around her complex and explain how they would approach the building.

"Nothing."

"Don't do that," he said, putting down his pen and turning his golden-brown eyes on her. "If you don't think something I'm suggesting will work, speak up. "

"It's not that. I just…I was thinking about how I thought I was a good judge of character, but apparently I'm not."

At that, Bo picked up his phone and dialed a number. He once again put it on speaker and placed the phone on the table. Wren was about to ask what he was doing when someone answered.

"Yo. Safe. What's up? You good?"

"Hey, Preacher. I need some help."

"Anything."

That single word made Wren's eyes tear up. It was so silly, but hearing such simple and immediately proof of the friendship between Bo and the man on the other end of the line, someone who would clearly do anything , without even knowing what might be asked of him, wasn't something she'd ever had. And it hurt.

"First, I need you to talk to Wren. Tell her all the bad shit about me that you know."

"Wren?"

"The woman from the bar last night."

"Ah. She okay?"

"She's fine. But she's not sure she can trust me."

"That's not—" Wren tried to interject, to tell Bo that wasn't what she meant by her earlier statement, but the man on the phone talked over her.

"Something happen?"

"No. I told her she could stay here at my house as long as she needed, because we're pretty sure the asshole who spiked her drink last night has her purse. But after what happened, she doesn't think she has a good asshole-radar anymore. "

"Ah, I get it. And shit . He knows where she lives and can get into her place."

"Exactly."

"All right. I'm happy to tell her all the dirt I have on you."

"Relevant shit, Preacher," Bo warned.

The man on the phone chuckled.

Bo turned to Wren and said, "Ask Preacher your questions, Wren. I'll be outside." And with that, he stood and walked toward the sliding door that led into the backyard without another word.

"Wait, Bo…" But he was already closing the door behind him.

"Wren?" Preacher asked.

She turned back to the phone lying on the table. "Um…yeah. Hi."

"Are you really all right? No side effects from whatever that asshole put in your drink?"

"No. I'm okay. A little headache, but that'll go away in a few hours, I'm sure."

"I'm sorry we didn't catch the guy," Preacher said.

This was such a surreal moment. Talking to someone she didn't know about something horrible that had happened. Wren was much more used to sweeping this kind of thing under the rug and never mentioning it again. "It's okay."

"It's absolutely not. Safe was pissed last night. After he talked to Jessyka and told her what happened, he called Kevlar to ask for advice."

"Who?"

"Kevlar. He's our team leader, our go-to guy."

"Oh. Advice about what?" Wren asked .

"You. He was second-guessing his decision to take you to his house. He wanted Kevlar's opinion, since he's got Remi and all."

"Remi?"

"Shit. Hasn't Safe told you anything ?"

Wren didn't like Preacher's scolding tone. "I just woke up about an hour ago. We ate breakfast, talked about what happened after I passed out last night, and then started making plans to infiltrate my apartment using super-secret SEAL techniques, so sorry that Bo hasn't had time to give me the 4-1-1 about his entire life history."

She immediately regretted her snarky tone, but to Wren's surprise, Preacher chuckled.

"Right. Sorry. So…you know Safe is a Navy SEAL."

"Yes. He just got back from saving the world on a mission and has a few days off."

"Yup. I'm one of his teammates. There are six of us…no, sorry, seven. I told you about Kevlar. There's also MacGyver, Flash, Smiley, and Blink. He's our newest teammate. Anyway, Kevlar was on vacation in Hawaii and got left out in the ocean while on a diving trip. He and the woman he was left with, Remi Stephenson, were rescued, came back to California, got together, and then shit really hit the fan."

Wren leaned forward in her chair. "What happened?"

"We used to have this man on our team, Howler. He went to boot camp with Kevlar. They were best friends. Had been on the same team for years. Turns out he was jealous as fuck of Kevlar, and he was the one who arranged for him to get left in the ocean."

Wren gasped. "Seriously? "

"Yeah. And that's not the worst part. He kidnapped Remi. Took her into the hills, where he had a grave already dug. Planned on burying her alive, then ‘helping' the search parties find her dead body."

"Why? Why would he do that to his best friend's girlfriend?" Wren asked, completely enthralled with the story.

"Jealousy. He wanted the team leader spot. Instead of being a man about it and going to our commander to talk to him about the possibility of leading another team, he tried to kill Remi, knowing it would destroy Kevlar emotionally. He figured he could take over our mission to Chad once Kevlar was out of the picture."

"Holy crap," Wren breathed.

"Yeah."

"I'm assuming since you're telling me this story, his plan failed?"

"Yup. Blink, who's now the newest member of our team, was able to convince Howler he was on his side and when the opportunity arose, took him out and rescued Remi."

Wren figured she knew what "took him out" meant, but it still shocked her.

"So, you thinking you're not a good judge of character? Believe me when I say, anyone can hide their true selves from the world. From the people who know them best. You think Kevlar hasn't been beating himself up for not seeing that his best friend was green with envy for years? That all of us aren't pissed that we didn't see the crazy in Howler, a man we spent thousands of hours with? For not realizing he was the one who'd arranged for Kevlar to die in the ocean? That he was capable of kidnapping Kevlar's girlfriend and murdering her ?

"You were on a first date . Not seeing through that asshole's smokescreen and realizing he intended to drug you doesn't say anything about you. It says everything about him being a deceitful predator."

Wren's mind was spinning. "That's a good point," she blurted.

The man on the other end of the phone chuckled. "Glad you think so."

"How's Remi?" Wren asked. "That couldn't have been a fun experience."

Preacher didn't say anything for a long moment, and Wren got nervous. "Sorry, was I not supposed to ask that?"

"No. I was just thinking how perfect you are. Most people would be freaking out over the attempted murder thing and the fact that a member of our team tried to kill people—twice. But instead, you're worried about Remi."

"I'm not perfect. Far from it," Wren told him. "And I'm pretty hard to freak out."

"I'm guessing there's a reason for that."

"There is." She didn't elaborate.

Preacher didn't sound like he expected her to as he continued. "Right, so…Safe. He told you about how he got his nickname?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he wasn't kidding about that story, but his nick fits him in every way. He's the guy who worries over all of us when we're on a mission. Not to say we all don't watch out for each other, but Safe is always trying to keep everyone protected. Even the civilians we run across. He wants us to complete our mission, but he wants everyone to stay safe as we do it. So you asking him for help last night? You picked the exact right person."

"I didn't really pick him. He just happened to be in that hallway."

"You telling me you didn't pass anyone else on your way to the hall?" Preacher asked.

"I don't remember," Wren told him honestly.

"You did," Bo's teammate said. "I saw the tape. You passed three other men who would've helped you. But you waited until you were with Safe."

Wren wanted to keep arguing. Say something about how she probably wanted to be out of sight of Matt before asking for help, but she didn't get a chance because Preacher went on.

"Safe asked me to tell you all the bad shit about him, so you'd know what you were getting into. Let's see?—"

"No," Wren interrupted. "I don't want to hear it."

"But you're worried about being a bad judge of character…" Preacher said, letting his words hang.

Wren chuckled. "You guys totally planned this, didn't you?" she asked.

Preacher sounded more serious than ever when he said, "No. Absolutely not. Look, Safe isn't a saint, none of us are, even me, with a nickname like Preacher. But you seriously couldn't have picked a better man to be your champion. Let him help you, Wren. Let all of us help you. There's nothing that pisses us off more than a guy hurting a woman. And that asshole from last night? He's on the top of our shit list right now. We're gonna find him and make sure he gets what's coming to him. "

"You aren't going to kill him, are you?" Wren whispered.

Preacher laughed. Hard. When he had himself under control, he said, "No. Now—what's this about plans to infiltrate your apartment using super-secret SEAL techniques?"

Wren realized that he recalled word-for-word what she'd said earlier. She briefly explained Bo's plans to go to her apartment to get her things.

"Tell him I'm in. As are the rest of the guys. This'll be fun."

"Fun?"

"Oh yeah. None of us do downtime very well."

"Well, um…okay."

"Sorry. I get a little too gung-ho sometimes. But seriously, tell him if he needs help, any of us are more than willing to have your backs while you go inside."

"I'll let him know."

"Good. Wren?"

"Yeah?"

"Glad you're okay. No woman should have to worry about that shit when they meet someone for the first time."

"Thanks. I agree."

"I know Jessyka probably wants to make things right with you. Please don't let this incident keep you from going back to Aces."

"She told Bo she wanted to create special tables for people on first dates…where they can be reassured they'll be safe."

"That sounds like something Jessyka would do. Let Safe take care of you for a few days. You won't regret it."

Wren wanted to tell Preacher that she wasn't the kind of woman who needed taking care of. That she'd been taking care of herself since she was around six years old. But she didn't get the chance because he'd ended the connection.

She sat at the table for a minute or two, going over in her head everything she'd just learned, before pushing back her chair and heading over to the sliding-glass door.

Looking out, she saw Bo standing over by the backyard fence, staring at a couple of squirrels eating nuts off the ground, his hands in his pockets.

As she pushed open the door, he turned but didn't walk toward her. "You okay?" he asked.

Wren nodded. She felt awkward all of a sudden.

Bo strode toward her. So quickly she took a step backward. He stopped immediately.

"If you want to leave, I understand. I can take you wherever you want to go, but I still don't recommend you go back to your apartment until my friends and I can get your locks changed."

"If I want to leave, you're still going to change my locks?"

"Yes."

"You should know, Preacher didn't tell me anything. I mean, he did, but not about you."

Bo looked kind of irritated. "He was supposed to tell you all the bad shit about me so you could trust me."

Wren couldn't help it. She laughed. "How is telling me negative things about you supposed to make me trust you?"

Bo frowned. "Uh…I don't know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Well, he didn't, and I still trust you. I was unconscious, you could've done anything you wanted with me…and you didn't. I could've been just another sad story about a mu rdered body washing ashore, but instead I woke up warm and safe, had a perfect breakfast, and I feel better about the upcoming days than I did when I woke up a couple hours ago, despite knowing Matt probably has keys to my apartment. Oh, and Preacher told me to tell you that if you need help with your super-secret SEAL mission to get into my apartment, he's available."

"You told him about that?"

"Yeah."

"All right. You want to go back inside and continue with our plans?"

Wren stared at him. "This is weird."

"Yup," he agreed.

Wren made a spontaneous decision. Something she'd never done in her life. She was a planner. Didn't like making decisions without thinking about everything that could go wrong. "If the offer is still on the table, I'd like to stay. Here. With you. At least until we can figure out who Matt is and if he's going to be a problem."

"Good."

"I have today off, since it's Sunday, but I do need to go to work tomorrow."

"Can I ask where you work?"

It hit Wren then that as much as she didn't know this man, he also didn't know her. But she felt more comfortable with him than she had anyone else in a very long time.

"You can. After we've planned our get-into-my-apartment mission."

Bo smiled. "Deal." He gestured toward the door. "After you. "

As Wren led the way back to the table, her mind spun with everything that had happened in the last sixteen hours. She'd been on a first date, drugged, passed out, woken up in a stranger's house, found out she and the man who'd saved her from what could've been a horrific experience shared a love of sugary cereal, had talked to a friend of his who'd spilled some pretty intimate details about Bo—and the rest of his team—and now they were figuring out how to get into her apartment without anyone knowing.

When she'd taken the new job here in Riverton, California, she never would've guessed in a million years her life would be so eventful. But the funny thing was…she wasn't upset about it. Her adult life had been one long rut. Alive but not living .

Meeting Bo was exciting. She didn't like the circumstances under which she'd met him, but she had to admit, spending time with him was one of the better things that had happened in her life thus far.