***

Half an hour later, Lauren stood at the door of her apartment, Royce by her side. He leaned in and kissed her. “Let me check it out before you go in.”

“I’m feeling pretty good about the bodyguard routine right now,” she said. “Feel free.” She pressed her key into his palm and then watched while, instead of entering, he felt around her doorjamb.

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the wall, knowing all too well that he was looking for some sort of trip wire or surveillance equipment. It was overkill, she told herself, suspicion and caution built into his blood by a lifetime in law enforcement that he was incapable of fighting. But deep down, caution felt right, and that meant something was very wrong.

The minute he opened the door, his gaze dropped, he squatted then stood, having retrieved an envelope. “Does your doorman allow people to just come and go?”

Lauren stepped toward him, reaching for it. She half expected him to resist. “No. You’ve seen how he hovers.” To her dismay, her hands shook, yet again, as she fumbled with the seal and opened the envelope. Inside she found a single sheet of paper that appeared to be a calendar.

“Today’s date is marked off,” Royce observed from over her shoulder. “Any idea what it means?”

She shook her head. “No. Should I be touching it? What about evidence?”

“There won’t be any,” he said, as if he were sure.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she let him take the piece of paper from her hands. The envelope slipped out of her hands onto the ground.

Drawn to Royce’s strength, she studied his profile as he examined the calendar. His jaw was tense, his eyes probing and intense. He bent down and picked up the dropped envelope, inserting the page back inside.

When he spoke, his voice was unaffected. He seemed calm and collected, so very unlike her right now. “I need to check out the rest of the apartment.” He reached out and smoothed a piece of wild hair behind her ear. “Stay put.”

It wasn’t a question, and though taking orders normally wasn't her cup of tea, it suited her just fine if it meant she didn’t have to go inside alone. She nodded and leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling exhausted. The adrenaline high from her initial scare was wearing off to be replaced with stark fear.

***

Royce waited to pull out his gun until he stepped inside the door. He didn’t want to upset Lauren any further, and right now, things that wouldn’t normally bother her, might. She was just that rattled, and that sensitive.

He searched the apartment, all the while aware of the leaden feeling in his gut. Gathering his thoughts, he stood in the bedroom, giving himself a minute before returning to Lauren’s side. He wasn’t sure what weighed on him more heavily, Lauren’s safety or the fact that he knew she didn’t give trust or control easily, but she was giving it to him. No, no, the thing that weighed the most heavily was knowing he was bound to hide the secret pact with her father until this blew over. Part of him even wondered if he could simply never tell her, but he discarded the idea, knowing all too well that he’d end up captive to her father, and even more so, to guilt. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a loud breath. Then he heard Lauren’s voice. “Royce?”

He holstered his weapon before responding. Walking into the living room, he found her looking nervously around the room. "Woman,” he said, “I thought I told you to wait.”

She bristled. “You took forever. I was worried.”

He smiled, unable to help himself. The idea of her worrying about him wasn’t such a bad one. "You were, huh?”

Her brows knitted together. “Why are you smiling?”

In several long strides, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her close. “Because I’m not used to anyone worrying about me. I’m not leaving you tonight you do know that, right?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I need to make some phone calls and talk to the doorman though. You do whatever you do at night, and I’ll finish up as soon as possible.”

***

An hour later, Royce sat at Lauren’s kitchen table, and ended a final call with Luke, having confirmed the phone booth was in Time Square, and had been swept for fingerprints. He pushed to his feet, more than eager to join Lauren in the living room where she’d snuggled under a blanket in a red silk robe to watch a True Crime show he’d tried to convince her to change to something else, but she’d refused.

Royce rounded the couch to find her fingers curled under her chin, her eyes shut, her breathing heavy. He smiled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so good at putting a woman to sleep. But the adrenaline rush from the fear, on top of limited sleep the night before, had clearly worked a number on her. And never before had he found himself just watching someone sleep, so lost in taking in every delicate line and curve of someone’s features. He shook himself and bent down to kiss her, stroking his hand over her fiery hair.

He flipped off the television, kicked off his boots, and slid onto the couch behind her. She sighed and snuggled that perfect round backside of hers to his front, and dug deeper into her pillow. Royce smiled into her hair and made a silent vow. If he was going to be forced to keep a secret from Lauren to keep her safe, then he damn sure was going to make whoever was messing with her feel the pain he was going to.

***

Dirt Diver sat with his booted feet kicked up on the wooden surface of a cookie-cutter hotel desktop, a smile on his lips. The monitor in front of him displayed an image of Royce Walker acting like a watchdog to Lauren Reynolds, camped out by her couch as she slept. He snorted. Royce Walker and the Walker brothers. Like they could stop him from getting to her. Like anyone could stop him from getting to her. He liked that the brothers were bad asses by most people’s standards, his included. He liked it a lot. That meant Lauren would feel protected, safe, secure. That meant that when he reached inside her world and sliced it to bloody hell, she’d feel as gutted as she’d made him feel. As she’d made so many people before him feel. That meant she would know just how lethal he was, just how ready he was, just how good he was. The bitch would know his name before this was over. Oh yeah, she’d know his name and she’d know why he’d come for her. No one, not even Royce Walker and his piece of shit brothers, were going to protect her.