Don't Let Go Page 4

  Zoe’s attention rocketed back to Simon when she heard Isaac dragging in a strained breath.

  “If you think I’ll let you touch a hair on her head, you’re delusional,” Simon said. “You get one free pass because of Macy. If you come after Zoe again, I will take you down hard. Are we clear?”

  Isaac shifted his gaze back to Zoe.

  Simon must have done something different, maybe shifted his weight, because blood drained from Isaac’s face. “Last chance, Lyons.”

  “I got it,” the trainee choked out.

  After another minute, Simon released him and stepped back, keeping his body between Isaac and Zoe. “Go cool off. Either head to your room or hit the track and run out some of the aggression. I don’t want to see your face the rest of the day unless it’s time for a meal. You will stay away from Zoe.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Simon shifted toward him. His voice dropped. “Try again, trainee.”

  “Yes, sir,” Isaac snapped out. With a last glare at Zoe, he stalked past Simon and his teammates.

  Trent St. Claire used some kind of hand signal and Cade left the dining room.

  Zoe was finally able to drag in a full breath after Isaac was gone. Oh, man. That had been painful to watch. Scary, too. For a second, she’d wondered if she would end up at the hospital again with another injury.

  Unfortunately, Isaac blamed her for Macy’s death. Considering the way he’d tried to get his hands on her more than once in the past two minutes, Zoe knew he wanted to hurt her. She didn’t understand why. Zoe would never hurt Macy.

  Was Isaac responsible for Macy’s death? If he had been, wouldn’t he have killed Zoe, too? Maybe he didn’t have time. Simon might have scared off the killer before he had a chance to do more than bash Zoe’s head against the wall.

  If Simon had interrupted him, the killer might come back when the operative wasn’t around and finish the job. Zoe shuddered. She didn’t understand everything about Simon’s job, but knew he deployed with his teammates every other month or so. That meant his team would be sent to handle another job soon. If Bravo deployed before Macy’s killer was caught, what would happen to Zoe?

  Simon laid his hand on her shoulder, staking his claim in front of the trainers and trainees. Zoe had a feeling the gesture was a warning to the other men and a reminder to her that they were a couple now and he’d do whatever it took to protect her. But he couldn’t protect her from afar.

  She’d protect herself. The other women married to operatives did it all the time. Zoe wasn’t a shrinking violet. If she planned to do the dating dance with the dangerous operative, she couldn’t be a weak woman.

  The whispers and murmurs swirling around the dining room fell to total silence when Josh Cahill strode to the center of the room. “Time for the day’s classes to begin,” he reminded them. “Lyons won’t be joining you today. His girlfriend was killed early this morning. Move out.”

  Trainers and trainees alike rose, deposited the dishes and cutlery in the appropriate places, and scattered for various parts of the building, leaving in small groups. Conversations were muted as the people walked to the first training session of the day. Many of them cast sly or questioning glances Zoe’s direction.

  “Do you teach hand-to-hand combat to all the trainees at once?” Zoe asked Simon.

  He shook his head. “The classes are broken up into groups of 50. I’ll teach four sessions today.” Simon tugged Zoe to her feet. “Nate is serving strawberry shortcake at lunch today. He needs help slicing strawberries. Do you feel like helping him?”

  “I’ll still be able to watch you teach one of the sessions?”

  “I have two sessions before lunch and two after.”

  “In that case, I’d love to help Nate for a while.”

  Simon guided Zoe toward the kitchen with a hand at the small of her back. Instant kitchen envy hit Zoe when they walked inside. The stainless-steel commercial-grade ovens and dishwashers gleamed in the overhead lights. The breakfast cleanup was in full swing with Nate issuing orders to another worker.

  The chef turned at their entrance. Zoe had to smile at the irony of Nate Armstrong the food artist also being an operative. She didn’t know his specialty but could guess. The Otter Creek police department had called on him and Cade to handle more than one bomb.

  What was Simon’s main job? That was a question she intended to ask later. Was he allowed to tell her? Bravo and Durango didn’t talk about their jobs aside from the PSI training. Maybe they couldn’t.

  Nate’s gaze softened as he hugged her. “I’m sorry about Macy.”

  Tears stung her eyes again. “So am I.”

  “Otter Creek police are the best. With Fortress to back them up, it’s only a matter of time before the killer is run to ground.” He released her. “Please say you’re here to work. My helper is going to class.”

  The woman stripping rubber gloves from her hands smiled. “I can’t be late. Mr. Murray will make me run extra laps if I don’t arrive on time.”

  Zoe grinned. “Voice of experience?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” With a glance at Nate, who nodded in dismissal, the woman hurried from the kitchen.

  “What do you say, Zoe? Willing to help me slice the strawberries for shortcake?”

  “Show me where to set up.”

  “Excellent.” He looked at Simon. “Better get moving. Trainees have long memories.”

  Simon chuckled and turned to Zoe. “Stay with Nate. If you need me, I’ll be in the large classroom to the right of dining room.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “If your symptoms worsen or….”

  Amused and exasperated by his protectiveness, Zoe laid her hand on his chest. “Simon, don’t worry. I’ll tell Nate if I need help. I promise.”

  Nate clapped Simon on the shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Go.”

  With one last glance at her, Simon left.

  The chef inclined his head toward a stool at the counter. “Sit there. I’ve already washed the strawberries.” He slid a knife and two oversize bowls across the counter to Zoe. “One for scraps, one for the berries. We have a lot of work ahead of us. The trainees will be starving by the time lunch rolls around.”

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him a lame salute, unable to resist when he sounded so much like a military officer.

  Nate rolled his eyes before gathering supplies for the shortcakes and dumping measured ingredients into a commercial mixer.

  The two of them worked in silence for a while. Once the first batches of shortcakes were in the oven, Nate started placing more shortcakes on baking sheets. “How is the nausea?”

  She grimaced. “Alive and well.”

  “Still have a headache?”

  “Oh, yeah.” If she could, Zoe would crawl into bed and drag the covers over her head to block out the light.

  Nate wiped his hands, dimmed the overhead lights, and grabbed his phone. He tapped in a text, then shoved it back into his pocket before washing his hands again and resuming work.

  Five minutes later, Matt arrived. “I brought something for the nausea.”

  Zoe frowned at Nate. “You ratted on me.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “I’ll lose my kitchen assistant if she’s hugging a porcelain bowl, puking her guts out. There’s no need to suffer, Zoe.”

  She rounded on Matt. “What more can you do? I’ve already taken the pain medicine. I can’t take another dose for several hours.”

  “An anti-nausea patch will help.” The medic ripped open a packet and pressed the patch behind her ear. “Lying down will help the headache.”

  “I can’t. Nate needs me.”

  “If you’re miserable, go to the infirmary.” Nate frowned. “I can handle the work.”

  Zoe shook her head and almost cried at the spike of pain. “I want to finish slicing the strawberries and I don’t want time to think.”

  “Running from reality won’t stop pain, sugar. Although I appreciate the help, you aren’t doing
yourself any favors by wallowing in denial.”

  “When I’m ready, I’ll deal. I can’t fall apart right now.” Not until she was alone. Giving in to the pain with an audience? Nope, not going to happen. “I have to function, Nate. Nick and Stella need all the information I can give them.”

  “All right.” He glanced at Matt. “Ice packs?”

  The medic nodded. “Might help long enough for Zoe to get through the day.” He faced her. “Twenty minutes on, two hours off. One against your forehead, the other on your nape. If the headache worsens, have Nate or Simon notify me. You can’t mess around with head injuries. Understood?”

  “Thanks, Matt.”

  “Another soft drink might help or Nate can brew chamomile mint tea for you.” He squeezed her shoulder and left.

  Zoe picked up the knife and resumed slicing strawberries. “Where did you find the recipe for the shortcakes?”

  “My parents own a restaurant. Strawberry shortcake is one of their specialties. I’ve been using this recipe since I turned ten.” Nate moved to the walk-in freezer and returned with two ice packs that he wrapped in kitchen towels. “The ice would help more if you lie down.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Of course you are.” The operative pressed the smaller pack to her forehead and draped the larger one around the back of her neck. “What happened this morning at the bakery?”

  Images of the bloody bathroom filled her mind. Zoe swallowed hard and shoved the mental images aside. “I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “You need to.” Nate’s voice was gentle. “You’ll remember more details as you think through what happened. Retelling the incident will also help your mind begin processing it.”

  Slowly, her delivery halting, Zoe told Nate everything she could remember about the incident. He listened without comment until she finished, then took her back through everything step-by-step, asking her more detailed questions.

  The operative leaned against the edge of the counter, arms folded across his chest. “Who wants you dead?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Simon stood on the left side of the large training classroom, watching paired students run through a sequence of moves he’d taught them. He scowled when a trainee flubbed a move more than once and took his frustration out on his partner.

  When the second man ended up with a fist to the jaw, flat on his back, Simon stepped onto the mat and approached the pair. “Take a breather, Dolan,” he said to the trainee still on the floor. “Next time, block the punch and contain the threat. If an attacker takes you down, your principal is toast.”

  “He’s my training partner.”

  “Anyone who attacks you is a threat. You contain a threat or you end up dead.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dolan rolled to his hands and knees and got to his feet. He moved to the side to watch, rubbing his jaw.

  Simon motioned for Dolan’s partner to approach. “Let’s go through the sequence again, Kenwood. You’ve almost got it.”

  The trainee ran through the exercise with Simon stopping him to correct stances and strikes, slowing the pace until Kenwood nailed the movements. When the motions were in muscle memory, he sped up the exercise.

  Triumph filled Kenwood’s eyes when they finished.

  “Excellent.” Simon clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re quick and have a solid strike. The next time you’re frustrated with an exercise, ask for clarification. The point is to learn the moves, not beat your partner into the ground with a sucker punch.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re lucky Dolan has a slow-burn fuse, Kenwood. Your partner is strong. He’ll mop the floor with you if there’s another incident, and I’ll let him.”

  Cheeks flaming, Kenwood gave a short nod. “I’ll remember.”

  Simon motioned for Dolan to return. As Kenwood offered an apology to his partner and the two men resumed the exercise, Simon walked around pairs of trainees, correcting moves when needed, complimenting pairs when they proved to be quick and fast.

  After introducing another series of movements and counter strikes, Simon watched students running through the routines, correcting angles and stances as he walked the classroom’s perimeter.

  An hour later, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Simon called a halt to the session, assigning further practice before the next close-quarters-combat training in two days. “Practice with as many classmates as possible before the next class. Dismissed.”

  After the trainees left, Simon ran a damp mop over the floor, readying the room for the second session. Finishing his task, he checked the clock again. He had enough time to check on Zoe before the next class started.

  Simon strode to the kitchen. Alarm roared through him when he found the kitchen empty. Where was Zoe?

  He hurried to the door leading to the hallway and saw Nate standing guard outside the women’s restroom. The EOD man glanced up as Simon approached. “How is she?”

  “Matt gave her an anti-nausea patch. Her headache is worse.”

  “Maybe I should take her back to the hospital.”

  “That’s something you need to ask Matt or Rio. She needs to lie down but your woman is stubborn.”

  His woman. Simon couldn’t deny that he liked hearing the phrase. “Zoe is a strong woman.”

  The bathroom door opened. Zoe walked out and into Simon’s arms. “Hi.”

  He hugged her tight, grateful for the right to hold her at last. Simon frowned when he realized she was trembling. Fatigue or something else? “How do you feel?” he murmured.

  “Like I’ve gone a few rounds with a world-class boxer and lost.”

  Simon tightened his grip at the reminder that he could have missed out on this opportunity forever. “Is the patch working?”

  Zoe scowled at Nate. “Seriously? You gossip more than Maeve at the hair salon.”

  He gave her an unrepentant shrug. “It’s fact, not gossip. I told Matt because he could help. Simon cares about you. Besides, you can’t deny you’re better now with the patch behind your ear.” Nate shifted his attention to Simon. “You have another class?”

  He nodded. “Ten minutes. I’ve got her if you want a quick break.”

  As the other operative walked down the hall, Simon nudged Zoe’s face up to his with the side of his hand. He looked at her forehead and winced. “You have a colorful bruise forming.” Just seeing it made Simon want to pound on the face of the man who had hurt her.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I saw it in the mirror.”

  He kissed her temple. “I’m sorry you were hurt, but I’m grateful it wasn’t worse. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Zoe dropped her gaze to the middle of his chest. “I’m fine.”

  “Try again.”

  “I will be fine.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’d kill anyone who tried to harm her and wouldn’t lose a second of sleep over it. Simon tilted her face up to his. “What upset you?” If Lyons had taken another run at her, Nate would have told him. “Talk to me.”

  “Nate asked me who wanted me dead.” Her gaze flew up to his face. “Before today, I’d have said no one.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know who to trust anymore. One of my friends may be a wolf in disguise.”

  “You can trust me. No one is more important to me than you. I’ll keep you safe, Zoe.” No matter the cost to accomplish that goal.

  Time to lighten the mood. He leaned down until his mouth brushed against her ear. “You have no idea how much I want this day to be over.”

  She shivered. “Why?”

  Her physical response made him smile and gave him hope that the chemistry he felt when they were together went both ways. “I promised you kisses and I always keep my promises. Having your mouth against mine is all I can think about. You are one serious distraction.”

  Zoe’s breath caught. “Simon.” Her voice sounded strangled. She inched closer.

>   He had to back off before he pushed them farther than they needed to go. But, man, was it tough. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry Zoe out of town. He’d love to spend several weeks with her in a place where he knew she was safe and he could concentrate only on her. “Are you still helping Nate?”

  “We’re making strawberry glaze in a few minutes and finishing the last preparations for lunch.”

  “If you feel up to it, would you like to sit in on my afternoon classes?”

  “I’d love to watch you work.” Her eyes sparkled, worry and sadness momentarily forgotten.

  “After I finish, I’ll give you a tour of PSI, then take you to dinner.” He smiled. “Our first official date.”

  “I thought our first date was this weekend.”

  “I can’t wait until then. As long as you feel up to it, I’d love to spend more time with you this evening.” Maybe by then he’d have figured out a way to inform Zoe that she wasn’t staying by herself until Macy’s killer was behind bars.

  While coaching the trainees, Simon had contemplated the few facts he knew about Zoe’s situation. He agreed with Nate. Although Macy was dead, Simon couldn’t help but worry that Zoe was the real target. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, the killer might have finished the job and Simon would have lost Zoe forever.

  “I may not be able to eat tonight.”

  “I’ll make sure the restaurant menu includes lighter options in case your stomach is still upset. You need to eat, though. You have to take care of yourself.”

  When Nate returned, Simon dropped a quick kiss on Zoe’s mouth and released her to the other operative’s care. He trotted back to the classroom and started his next session.

  Ninety minutes later, he dismissed his class, damp-mopped the floor, and entered the crowded dining room. His gaze zeroed in on Zoe as she walked to the serving area with a large tray of shortcakes in her hands. Nate was on her heels with a large bowl of strawberries mixed into a glaze.

  Simon’s stomach growled, a loud reminder that breakfast was a distant memory. Except for the coffee Zoe had prepared for him, he hadn’t consumed anything since he left his house at four this morning. On a normal day, he would have grabbed a snack from Nate between classes. He didn’t regret the few minutes he’d been able to hold Zoe in his arms and couldn’t wait to do it again.