Page 8 of Shielding Serena

Garrett nodded to Kujo, but his face had gone expressionless. Not welcoming, but not hostile either. Walker didn’t blame him, after the shit that had gone down. Having a full complement of mercenaries and a federal witness in hiding had been one giant shitshow for all of them. And now Walker was introducing yet another new element.

“I’m part of a group of men and women known as the Brotherhood Protectors,” Kujo said, holding out his hand for a shake, which Garrett matched. It wasn’t a pissing contest; there was no squeezing or prolonged contact. Kujo’s mouth kicked up in a half smile as he let Garrett’s hand go. “I like to describe us as a security service for those who need highly trained special ops folks who know how to handle a gun and run a tactical mission.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say a word.

“We don’t operate outside the law. In fact, we prefer to have law enforcement on our side and even get referrals on occasion for jobs that can’t be handled within those realms for a multitude of reasons. Walker and his team have passed all of our background checks,” Kujo continued. “I’m here to assess the viability of them basing a branch operating out of Last Light.”

The medics were finishing up with Serena, so the men ended the conversation and moved back to her side. She was waving the paramedics off, saying she was fine and that she’d follow up later with Dr. Pearson. That seemed to satisfy them, so they bundled up their gear and headed back to their rig.

Garrett stepped forward and Walker grabbed a chair, sitting a respectful distance back. He wasn’t going to get in the man’s way, but he wanted to hear what Serena had to say.

“That ice bag ain’t for sitting in your lap, Serena,” Garrett said gently and in response she held it up to her forehead. “Now why don’t you tell me what happened.” He didn’t make it a question, and he’d pulled out his phone to record her words.

“It was a totally normal morning. I got up to put the first round of frittatas and pastries in the ovens. We prep those the night before,” she explained and then closed her eyes.

Walker could see that it wasn’t necessarily from pain, but that she was trying to remember every single detail. He had no doubt that she actually would. Serena Blackstone was that kind of woman.

“On the way downstairs, I heard something and couldn’t tell really what it was, but it wasn’t normal. But the damn third stair down creaks and he must have heard it. I saw a light in the south parlor right before he clicked it off. Thought maybe I’d surprise him,” she said and shot a glance Walker’s way. He was already grinding his teeth in frustration.

“You should have called me,” Garrett said, his voice still kind.

“I know,” she said. “I just reacted. I know I’m like a too-stupid-to-live chick in a horror movie, but I grabbed that big candlestick and figured I’d wait right outside the door and conk him over the head when he came out.”

While Walker didn’t like the fact that she’d put herself in danger, at least she’d armed herself.

“As I stood there, I started to have second thoughts. I knew I should have brought my phone down, should have called 911, so I started to kind of fade back to use the landline and he blew out of the door. I never saw his face; he was wearing a mask, and it was so dark. You know how old houses like this are, and there’s no streetlight outside.”

“Did he hit you with his fist or something else?” Garrett asked.

She closed her eyes again, concentrating. “It was a flashlight, maybe? Or maybe I’m thinking that because I saw the light in the parlor. But it was definitely something like that. Then you and Walker were here,” she finished.

“So you were unconscious, not simply dazed?” Garrett asked.

She looked at Walker. “I guess so?”

“I don’t know how long she was out before I got here. I saw him fleeing when I pulled into the parking lot and rather than give chase, I came in here to make sure Serena was all right.” Walker could hear the worry in his own voice and didn’t even try to curb it.

“What time did you come downstairs?” Garrett asked.

“Five, like every morning,” Serena said, and Walker heard the wobble in her voice as she took in the fact that the sun was now up. That she’d been down for the count for over an hour.

“Shit,” Garrett said, and stood. “That’s a long time to be unconscious. We’re going to the ER.”

She started to protest, but Walker crouched down next to her again. “Please go in, Serena. It’ll ease everyone’s mind.”

She stared at him with those clear blue eyes that’d captured his heart at eighteen, as if gauging his sincerity. Then she sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

CHAPTER 5

Walker was here. Everything would be all right. He helped her to her feet, one hand on her elbow, the other low on her back. While she knew the gesture was meant to be supportive, his touch branded her as it had all those years ago. Made her flush in a way she hadn’t since she was seventeen.

She sent him an appreciative glance, then stepped away. The last thing she needed to do was show up at the ER with a racing heartbeat to go along with her aching head.

She hated hospitals more than almost anything, but she’d push down her memories and be strong. Because that’s who she was. She was Serena fucking Blackstone. If only her mind wasn’t already beginning to spin.

They moved through the front door, and she stopped with a jolt. The small parking lot was crowded with emergency response vehicles and big trucks. The EMTs loitered near the entrance to the lot, and she figured Garrett had sent them a text to stay and transport her to the hospital. Besides the ambulance, there were two sheriff’s SUVs and Walker's big-ass truck.

On the street she could see three other vehicles and recognized two of them as regulars who’d showed up for their coffee and breakfast. The man who had been standing beside Walker--Kujo, he’d called him--was headed toward his own SUV.