Page 68 of The Bodyguard's Fall

“Keep looking, let me know if you see anything move,” he mumbled as his eyes pored over the ground, searching for footsteps or any sign that it was human. But a thick crop of trees covered the ground. The roots had grown up and out of the packed dirt, curling into each other and creating more of a wood-like floor than dirt. A wood-like floor covered in colorful leaves. Not great for tracking footprints.

“Maybe it was a squirrel?”

Tate didn’t answer. Instead, he moved farther up the hill and off the trail, scouring the ground and the trees. His body was tense, held in a slight crouch, like a tiger waiting for any opportunity to pounce.

“You can run up and check if you want to. I can wait here. Or go with you.”

He finally looked back at me, agitation etched across his face. “I can’t take you with me, and I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“Maybe it wasn’t...” I trailed off, not wanting to put words to the obvious, while at the same time, wanting reassurance that it wasn’t.

Tate did neither. Instead, he made his way back down to me, regret in his eyes. I knew he would be scouring the hills right now if he had backup. But he didn’t. It was just him and me and a forest full of shadows and whispers from the wind.

He grabbed my hand again, leading me back down the trail. We were almost to the farm before he holstered his gun. His hand was warm in mine, his grip tight and firm, but our carefree walk was over.

Plot Twist: It had been such a nice day. I’d much rather leave this plot twist out.

Tate: He’s here.

Will: What? Where?

Tate: Carver Maple Farm. He was watching us from about 100 yards away. By the time we got there, he was gone.

Will: Did you see his face?

Tate: No.

Will: Then how do you know?

Tate: It was him.

Will: This was all part of your plan?

Tate: Yup.

Will: Is she still safe with you?

Tate: She’s safe. He’s here. And we’re going to get him.

I was fine.

The next couple of days, I sequestered myself in my room most nights. But that was because I was behind and on a deadline. It didn’t have anything to do with our scare in the woods, which was probably just nothing. It was nothing.

I was fine.

To show just how fine I was, I even agreed to meet up with Ari and Reese at the pumpkin patch the next day. We had started the day laughing about each of our latest antics that our texts just didn’t do justice. Tate had hung nearby, giving us space to talk, but was never out of reach. Never out of sight. Never not watching.

It should have been enough.

But my skin kept prickling, and my eyes kept darting. The constant feeling of someone watching me was enough to drive me crazy. I was a walking target. Nobody knew what we were dealing with. Were my friends in danger just for being with me?

Unable to stomach the thought, I made an excuse, and Tate and I left soon after with a weak promise on my part to get together again soon.

So, imagine my surprise on Sunday afternoon, when two friendly knocks sounded at my bedroom door. When I found Ari and Reese on the other side, my surprise laugh turned into a cry. Four arms quickly enveloped me in a giant hug, causing more tears to flow down my face.

Once I extracted myself enough to close the door behind them, I glanced down the hallway and met Tate’s eyes at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, I was startled at his sheer attractiveness wearing a baseball hat and jeans. I didn’t have to get any closer to know how devastating the blue on his shirt would make his eye color.

“You good?” he asked, nodding toward my bedroom with my unexpected guests.