Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Travis turned to watch her too. “Do it for her.”
I growled. “Goddammit. What if I got my own security?”
“That would work, but I got a call on the way over here. We’ve already reached out to the Kings, and they agreed to let police shadow you if that means you can make all your practices. They also approved having extra police around the stadium through the week.”
My growl just got louder and deeper. Frustration pulsed through me. “Should’ve slammed the fucker better. Knocked him unconscious.”
Travis bit out a laugh. “For what it’s worth, the slam was impressive. You were worried about Billie. That’s the only reason you didn’t get a better hold of him. Also, don’t be surprised if that gets leaked. It was epic.”
I tossed him a dark look. He needed to shut up.
Sobering, his eyes cooled. “I’m just saying, if you want to be there for her and also there for your team, you need to expect some extra police around, at least until we catch him.”
“Or until he fucks up.”
“That too.”
Billie made another sound, and every inch of me wanted to burst through the door and go to her, either stop the exercise or just hold her.
I wanted her to feel safe and only safe, nothing else—no fear, no worry, no more ghosts, because whether she knew it or not, I could see them. She was one of the most haunted people I knew.
“She’s safe in there, and Nikki knows what she’s doing,” Travis said. “If there’s something Billie can remember that will help us find him faster, she’ll get it.”
“She’s a profiler. This is what they do?”
“This is what she did before specializing as a profiler. And because at her core, she’s FBI. She’ll do what she needs to find this guy. And a heads-up, we got your statement, but you were fighting him. She’s going to press you again for anything you might’ve left out.”
“I didn’t leave shit out. He knows how to take a hit.”
“You didn’t mention that earlier.”
“Just thought of it.”
“See? That’s why she’s going to press you again. Tell me what you mean when you say he knows how to take a hit.”
“I came at him hard, trapping his arms so he couldn’t hit me with anything. After the initial contact, he loosened his body. He averted his head so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it was more. He didn’t want me reading him while we were fighting.”
Dickhead nodded. “For a guy to do that, that kind of thinking—”
“He’s a fighter or a quarterback.”
He grunted. “Doubt he’s a quarterback.”
“Me too. So he has fighting experience, real fighting.”
“A guy learns how to maneuver like that if he’s gotten hit a hundred or more times. Mind and body are both conditioned by then.”
“Shit.” I scrubbed my hand over my face.
“Yeah.” He sighed and turned away.
After a moment, he indicated that I should follow him. “Come on. Show us this fancy security system you got. Wow us so we don’t need to be inside the house.”
He’d thrown that my way as a challenge, but impressed or not, there was no way they’d be inside the house.
My system was flawless.
38
BILLIE
After Travis and Agent Cardiman left, Brett and I made a round of calls. The news would break in the morning, and we didn’t want everyone to hear about it that way.
It was decided that I’d stay at Brett’s while he went to work. His place was almost a fortress. Vicky, Howard, and Lo would take turns coming to me, and Roger and the girls would stay away until everything was sorted.
Lo had the first shift, bringing me everything I’d left at my place. My laptop. My printer. She also packed a large bag of my clothes in case this lasted a long while.
The next morning our phones started buzzing at four AM, and they never stopped. Brett got a call from the Kings, so he went in early, but only after making sure there were two squad cars outside.
Lo returned, and we sat in Brett’s giant living room, watching TV. I’d propped myself in the corner of his couch with pillows, my laptop, and a blanket over my legs. Every channel was covering the attempted kidnapping. Lo was riveted, not by the terror of me almost getting taken, but like most everyone else in the world, she was riveted by the slam Brett Broudou had given the guy to thwart the attack. I had to admit, I was too. Though I winced every time I saw my body lose consciousness.
The stalker had been about to lift me up, the back door of his truck open. It was idling there, ready for him. Then, mid-bend, Brett tore in from his side of the truck, a blur because he was moving so fast, and wham! The news slowed the video down, focused on how Brett was coming in, his head low, his eyes right on my attacker. His arms opened, and slam! He hit the guy square in the side, trapping his arms like he’d explained last night. My attacker was forced to let me go. Brett’s eyes followed me as I slumped to the ground, but he somehow managed to get enough traction to lift my attacker in the air before slamming him down.