Justice Burning (Hellfire #2) (9 page)

She was so gorgeous with the sun’s rays bouncing off her auburn hair, turning it a flaming copper. Nash had the sudden urge to gather her in his arms and pull her body against his. He could keep her safe, if she let him. As though drawn by an irresistible force, he leaned toward her, wanting to press his mouth to hers.

Something whizzed past his ear and pinged against the glass of the passenger seat window behind Phoebe.

Nash’s gaze shifted from those tempting lips to a perfectly round hole in the glass. No sooner did it register what that hole meant than something struck his arm. He jerked at the stabbing pain.

Almost as soon as he did, Phoebe flinched and grabbed her shoulder.

“Ouch!” She glanced down at her hand. When she pulled it away from her shoulder, a bright red smear stained her palm and spread across her sleeve, where her hand had been. “What the h—”

Nash grabbed her and flung her to the ground, covering her body with his.

“What’s happening?” she said, her voice muffled beneath his chest.

“Gunfire. Stay down!”

More bullets pinged against the body of his truck, putting another hole in the window, this time shattering the glass completely. Nash lay still, listening, straining to hear the weapon’s report. Based on the lack of noise accompanying the shots, the weapon had to be a high-powered sniper rifle, fired from a good distance away.

“I can’t breathe,” Phoebe said, her voice dwindling to a whisper.

Nash eased off her body, positioning himself between Phoebe and the shooter. He eased his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed dispatch. “Gretchen, I’m in the parking lot in front of Bob’s Diner, and we have a shooter lobbing bullets at us.”

“No shit!” Gretchen responded. “Stay down. I’ll alert the sheriff.”

“Tell him not to come to the front of the building. Seems to be us they’re shooting at, but I don’t want him to get caught in the crossfire.”

Half a minute later, Sheriff Olson appeared around the side of the diner, weapon drawn.

By then, the gunfire had ceased.

Nash didn’t feel confident it wouldn’t start up again, so he remained on the ground, his body a shield protecting Phoebe.

Within the next three minutes, every sheriff’s deputy on duty arrived in the parking lot, their vehicles surrounding Nash and Phoebe. The men on duty spread out on foot, searching in the direction Nash indicated from which the shots had been fired.

Nash rose to his haunches and pulled Phoebe up to hers. “Let’s get inside the building.”

“What’s happening?” Phoebe’s body trembled against his.

“I don’t know, but it’s not safe to remain outside in the open.” He led her into the diner where they were surrounded by the staff.

Chance arrived, wearing his paramedic uniform and carrying what appeared to be his medical tool box. Within minutes, he’d cleaned and bandaged Phoebe’s wound and Nash’s. “You should have a doctor check them out, just in case. A tetanus shot wouldn’t be a bad idea either. But from what I could tell, they are only flesh wounds. You’re lucky. I saw your truck.” His lips thinned into a straight line. “It could have been worse.”

“Why would someone shoot at us?” Phoebe asked.

Nash shook his head. “Sweetheart, does your father have bodyguards?”

She nodded. “He does.”

“Did he hire them for you?”

“I suppose.”

“You don’t have bodyguards here. You’re exposed, and someone knows who you are. They might be targeting you because of your father.” Nash frowned. “Or whoever killed your fiancé might be after you as well.”

Phoebe’s eyes rounded. “You could have been killed. I can’t stay here.” She pushed to her feet and swayed. “I can’t stay in Hellfire. If I do, people could end up as collateral damage. I couldn’t live with myself if you or Audrey or Lola were killed by bullets meant for me.”

Nash pulled her against him. “The problem isn’t
you.
It’s the crazy people shooting at you.”

“But they’re shooting at
me
. I can’t let anyone else be hurt because of me.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Do you think they killed Ryan trying to get to me?”

“I don’t know.” His arm firmly around her waist, he shook his head. “Until we catch them, we just have to play it safe.”

Phoebe’s shoulders drooped. “I have to call my father.”

“Why?” Nash asked.

“He has the bodyguards, the gated estate and the money to spend tracking down the culprits.”

“Or you can let the sheriff’s department here in Hellfire handle this,” Sheriff Olson said. “We don’t like it when our citizens are threatened.”

“But I’m new in town.” Phoebe spoke through the tears welling in her eyes. “You can’t really call me a citizen.”

“Are you, or are you not, living in the apartment over Lola’s garage?”

Brows wrinkled, she responded, “For an entire day. Just twenty-four hours.”

“Are you gainfully employed?” the sheriff continued.

Phoebe nodded. “Yes, but—”

Sheriff raised a hand to stop her protests. “Sounds to me like you’re a citizen of Hellfire. And we take care of our own.” He winked and turned to Nash. “Grayson, you are officially assigned to protect Miss Sinclair until we find the man responsible for the shooting.”

Nash’s chest tightened, and his chin rose. Even if he hadn’t been assigned, he’d have taken on the responsibility.

“
Y
ou can’t do that
,” Phoebe said, straightening as she spoke. “I’m sure you can’t afford to assign one of your men to me full time. It’s not practical. My father pays a staff of security personnel. He has the money and can afford it.”

“Are you living with your father?”

“Not now. But I can go back and keep you and Hellfire from having to jump through hoops to protect one person.” She waved her hands in the air, feeling what little control she’d thought she had on her life slipping through her fingers. “I didn’t come here to be a burden.”

Sheriff Olson frowned and addressed Nash. “Deputy Grayson, do you consider protecting the citizens of Hellfire a burden?”

Nash’s lips twitched. “No, sir.”

“Then it’s settled.” The sheriff clapped his hand onto Nash’s back. “Grayson will see to it that you are safe until such a time as we find the shooter and lock him up.”

This wasn’t happening. The runaway train she’d been riding since she’d left the church seemed to have an endless amount of track and stops. “Seems as though I’m bad luck for Hellfire.”

“You can’t think that way.” Sheriff Olson touched Phoebe’s arm with his big callused hand. “You aren’t to blame. And you don’t have to give up your independence because an unidentified outlaw is gunnin’ for you. We’ll take care of the situation. And you.”

Phoebe swallowed hard on the constriction in her throat and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “Thank you.” She turned to Nash. “Can we go now?”

Nash nodded and hooked her elbow in his grip.

He had to be furious at the orders his boss had given. When he’d first learned she was the daughter of a wealthy man, a debutante and socialite, he’d been so angry. She’d lied to him and now he had to be her babysitter until further notice. This was not how independence was supposed to be.

Even with a parking lot full of the sheriff’s department SUVs, Phoebe hesitated before stepping out of the building.

Nash circled an arm around her waist and held her close, using his body as a shield.

She wanted to push him away. Dear God, if he took another bullet meant for her…

They made it to his truck without further incident. Though the window was shattered, someone had swept the glass out of the seats. Phoebe turned her head, left and right, searching for gunmen, not really knowing where to look, or what to look for. Nash was the former soldier, surely he knew.

Nash handed her up into the truck. “You might want to sit low in the seat.”

Phoebe glanced around, her jaw tight, her gaze skimming the buildings and nearby bushes and shadows. “You think they’ll try to shoot me again?”

“I don’t know what to think. I just know you should stay down. That way you don’t make a good target.”

Phoebe hunkered down, her head so low, she could barely see over the dash.

Nash got into the truck and pulled out onto Main Street. The short drive to Lola’s house was accomplished in strained silence.

When he pulled into the driveway in front of her apartment, he drew in a breath, shifted the truck into Park and turned. “Gather your clothes and whatever you might need for the next few days.”

“What?” With her hand on the door handle, she looked back at Nash, her eyes narrowing. Was he taking her to the nearest bus station and buying her a ticket home, just to get rid of her? “Why do I need my things?”

He pinned her with his stare. “You’re coming to stay at the ranch.”

Expecting the bus scenario, she took a moment before his words sunk in. Still they left her confused. “What ranch?”

“My ranch.” He unbuckled his seat belt, without looking away. “The Coyote Creek Ranch. It actually belongs to my brothers and I.”

Phoebe shook her head. Everything was happening too fast, leaving her thoughts spinning. “I have my own apartment. I’m not moving in with you, your brothers or anyone else.”

“From what I know about your apartment, it’s pretty small. Too small for the two of us.”

“What two of us?” Her cheeks heated as her chest tightened. She didn’t want to rely on anyone else. Taking a deep breath, she fought for calm in the face of the latest storm. “For the first time in my life, I live alone. I’m not ready to give up, yet.”

The infuriating man shook his head. “Sorry, honey. You heard the sheriff. Until we catch the guy who shot at you, I’m assigned to protect you.”

Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t leave my father’s house, and his dictates, for another man to call the shots for me. This is my life, damn it!” She pounded her fist on the armrest. “I can take care of myself.”

“Do you own a gun?”

She shook her head. “But I can get one.”

“Do you know how to use one?”

“I’ve shot skeet before.”

“Have you fired a handgun?” He waved his hand. “Never mind. You’re in danger now. There’s a waiting period to purchase weapons. You don’t have the luxury of waiting for a weapon to protect yourself.”

“I’m not going with you. You’re not responsible for my safety.” She glanced out the window. “I’ll be careful.”

He shoved a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated breath. “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t handle that well. I’m used to my men following my orders. I forget sometimes that I’m not in the military.”

She glared at him. How was she supposed to be independent when Nash insisted on hanging around? She didn’t need a man to be her bodyguard. Especially Nash Grayson. She had come to Hellfire to start over on her own. If the ruggedly handsome deputy was around day and night, she wasn’t sure she could resist him. Already, she’d been close enough to kiss him, and the temptation had been almost irresistible. No. Resisting him wasn’t possible.

The deputy lifted her hand in his. “Let me put it a different way.”

His voice had softened until it was like warm butter seeping into every pore of her skin, igniting her senses.

“I’d be pleased…” He raised his other hand, “no…honored, if you would allow me to protect you by staying by your side twenty-four-seven. Please, say yes. The decision will be one hundred percent yours.”

For a long moment she stared at him, her eyes narrowed, her free hand fisted in her lap as she fought to keep from throwing them around his neck and kissing him. He would probably be appalled by her advances. Just because she was secretly lusting after him didn’t mean he was lusting after her. Oh, hell, she was getting too deep, too fast with a man she’d only met a day before. Phoebe didn’t believe in love at first sight. But lust? Oh, hell yeah. Nash Grayson was purely lust-worthy and he was staring with those incredibly blue eyes, imploring her to say yes. “I’ll think about it,” she finally blurted. Anything to get him to let go of her hand before she raised it to her breast and begged him to touch her any ol’ way he liked, and then some.

“Be advised...If you say no to coming with me to the ranch, I’ll be forced to sleep in my truck here in the driveway, to make sure you’re okay. I wouldn’t want you to feel bad or anything about making me sleep in this cramped, bullet-ridden vehicle.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “I’m willing to do whatever is needed to keep you safe. Even sacrifice my beauty sleep.” He winked.

“I said I’d think about it.” Hell, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Crammed into his truck, outside her window. Or, if she went with him to his ranch, he could be in the room beside hers, sleeping naked. Cowboys slept in the nude, didn’t they?
Oh, sweet Jesus
. Was it hot inside the truck cab, or was it her? She resisted the urge to fan herself.

“Fair enough,” Nash said. “Now, if you could stay put, I’ll check things out.” He climbed out of the truck and studied the nearby houses, the bushes, shadows and windows, probably searching for gunmen.

Phoebe could imagine him in full combat gear. Images of news reels ran through her mind of soldiers fighting battles in the desert hills of Afghanistan. Only Nash wasn’t in a foreign country. Yet, he was facing a potentially hostile environment in Hellfire, Texas. Because of her.

Eventually, he opened the passenger door and helped her down from the truck. Using his body as a shield, he walked with her up the stairs to her apartment, following closely.

The entire time he hovered over her, she prayed no one would shoot. She didn’t want anything to happen to Nash. He’d more than proven himself a hero by rescuing her a couple times already. He deserved a long, peaceful life. Not one peppered by bullets meant for her.

As Phoebe pressed the key into the lock, the door swung open. “What the hell?”

Nash shoved her behind him. “Let me go first. While I do…sit.”

She didn’t argue, just did as he said, and sat, her hands shaking as she stared past his legs to the interior of her apartment as Nash entered.

From what she could see, boxes had been thrown, their contents spilled onto the floor. The drawers of the small kitchenette had been yanked from the cabinet, knives, forks and spoons strewn every which way.

Holy hell, what a mess. Phoebe crawled through the door and stood, her heart breaking over the damage.

Blankets and sheets of the twin bed in the corner had been ripped down the middle as though someone stabbed a sharp knife into the mattress and slashed down the center. Pillows were ripped open, the stuffing scattered like small cotton clouds. “Who would have done this?” Phoebe whispered through the hand covering her mouth.

Nash spun to face her. “I told you to wait and let me check it out.”

“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, tears welling in her eyes.

He shook his head and held open his arms.

Needing the reassurance of someone holding her, Phoebe walked into them. She felt as if her space had been violated. No place was sacred or safe.

“By the looks of it, someone was looking for something.”

“But I don’t have anything. The boxes are Lola’s. They’ve been here for a lot longer than I have, and nobody bothered them until I came along.”

Nash smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’m betting whoever shot at you did this.”

Phoebe curled her fingers into his shirt, clutching onto her sanity in the face of so much adversity. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Sense or not, you aren’t safe here.” He tipped up her head. “You agree, don’t you?”

She nodded. “How am I going to tell Lola? She took me in. Gave me a place to stay. And I repay her with a trashed apartment.” She waved her hand at the boxes. “And her things have been destroyed.” She couldn’t stay here. Phoebe looked up at Nash, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. She brought too much danger to the people around her. “I have to leave. I’m like a magnet for trouble.”

Nash tightened his arms around her. “
You
didn’t do this. Stop blaming yourself.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes, instead her gaze dropped to his lips. “I’m beginning to think I should just go back to my life with my father and give up on this insane notion of independence. Then, at least, no one else will be hurt.”

“No one else has been hurt.”

She touched his shirt where the bullet had cut a hole. “You were.”

“Just a scratch.” He tilted her chin upward. “You’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay. Let the sheriff and his deputies handle finding the bad guys. In the meantime, I’ll keep you safe.”

His tone was warm, caressing, and his arms felt so strong and comforting. When Phoebe met his gaze, she melted into his blue eyes. More than her fear of bullets, she was afraid her heart wouldn’t be safe from this handsome deputy. Nash didn’t need her kind of complication in his life. He deserved so much better. With her breasts crushed to his chest and her hands trapped between, she couldn’t fight the intense longing building inside. “Are you sure I’ll be safe?” she whispered.

“I promise,” Nash said. Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss started out light, almost like an exploration of her mouth. Phoebe leaned into him, her hands climbing up his chest to circle around the back of his neck and bring him closer.

His tongue skimmed the seam between her lips and she opened to him.

At that point, something snapped between them.

Nash raised one hand to cup the back of her head, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping the length of hers, caressing, thrusting and flicking hers until she could barely think. At the same time, his other hand dug into her buttocks, pressing her belly against the hard ridge beneath the fly of his jeans.

Phoebe should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. Instead, her body burned, an ache spreading outward from her core, making her want more. She lamented the barrier of clothing separating her body from his.

When he finally raised his head, he stared downward for a long moment.

“Phoebe?” A female voice called from below. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Nash dropped his arms to his sides, and Phoebe stepped backward as Lola arrived in the doorway. “I don’t think my kitchen floor has ever been as shiny, or my laundry room so clean as it is today—” She stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth falling open. “Oh, my God. Phoebe, darlin’, are you okay?”

Phoebe struggled for words when her entire being shook with the force of her desire for the man standing so near. “I’m fine.” Hell, she wasn’t anywhere close to fine, and she might never be fine again. Not after that all-consuming, earth-shattering and soul-defining kiss.

N
ash drove
to the ranch in silence, still reeling. Had he known how profoundly he would be affected by one kiss, he might not have kissed Phoebe.

Who was he kidding? The more he’d been with her, the more he’d wanted to kiss her. Especially after the shooting, when Phoebe had shown her true colors. She hadn’t wanted any of her newfound friends hurt because of her presence. She’d have gone back to her father’s world, a world she had sworn to leave behind, just to save her adopted town from trouble.

If a body was truly in that stolen car, the murderers had killed once. They probably wouldn’t stop until they killed again.

Nash’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The sun was setting on the Texas horizon. Before he left Hellfire, he’d been in contact with the sheriff. The deputies had canvassed the area and hadn’t found any mention or evidence of a sniper except for the bullets lodged in the door panel of Nash’s truck. The sheriff sent them immediately to the state crime lab in Austin but it would take time before the office got anything back. Without suspects, all they could do was be on the lookout for a stranger carrying a sniper rifle.