The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology) Read online

  Cassie watched the front grounds as Peter’s Mercedes meandered down the driveway. Immediately she burst into action. She brushed out her hair and tossed on a T-shirt and sweats complete with a hoodie. On her feet, standard issue bunny slippers. She at least had to be able to sell the whole going to bed scenario. Yanking open her door, she poked her head out.

  Reynolds looked up startled. “Yes, Miss Reeser? What can I do for you?”

  “Reynolds, do you mind if we go downstairs and make some hot chocolate? Sometimes it takes the sleeping pills a few minutes to work and I’m pretty worked up after fighting with Peter.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Hot chocolate runs weren’t out of the ordinary with them since, in essence, he served as bodyguard, teacher, nanny and confidant. “Sure, Miss Reeser. After you.”

  As she strolled down the hallway, Cassie felt his keen eyes on her back as if trying to discern what was off about her. That funny smell in the air buddy boy—that’s the smell of me fighting back.

  As always, Cassie got out two mugs, the milk, cocoa, marshmallows and cinnamon. Reynolds watched her like a hawk, but he watched her larger movements, he must not have paid much attention to her fine motor skills because he didn’t notice her dusting crushed sleeping pills into his mug. She did what she could to distract him. “Do you think my brother is right, Reynolds? Do you think this is fair?”

  It wasn’t like she expected an actual answer. He worked for Peter after all. But at least his mind would be occupied finding a PC answer instead of noticing the fine white powder she slipped in his cup.

  “I think your bother worries about your safety and this is an attempt to keep you safe. I’m certain he wishes it didn’t distress you so.”

  Oh Reynolds. Ever the loyalist. That loyalty would get him hurt one day. Peter thought she didn’t notice, but his personal staff had gotten smaller and had had high turnover. She could only guess at the imagined infractions, and her brother was quick to fire. She’d seen it happen on more than one occasion. Her brain stuttered over the thought of what else her brother might have been doing to his staff. After all, look what he’d done to her.

  Once the milk was poured and cocoa added, she led the way back upstairs. She prayed Reynolds would drink enough to at least not be alerted to her slipping down the hallway. He was six-foot- six and weighed nearly three hundred pounds. The pills were made for someone of her size so they might not be effective on him. But then again, they were also made for someone of her strength, so they would need to be able to stop her in her souped-up state.

  When she reached her door, a pang of regret sliced through her. What would happen to Reynolds when her brother discovered her missing? Her constant companion would no doubt get fired, but would he be okay? Would he be able to find other work? It was these kinds of things that occupied her mind as she whispered a goodnight and slipped into her bedroom to wait. What fate was she condemning this gentle giant to? Another pang of guilt and pain bit through her as he uttered “Goodnight, Miss Reeser.”

  Thirty minutes later, she’d switched out her bunny slippers for running shoes, tied her hair into a pony tail and pulled up her hoodie. The cash she’d been saving for six months was tucked safely into her shoes. The moment she’d heard Peter’s thoughts about Symcore, she knew this was about more than a party. She had to leave. But she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to Mallory.

  With a hand on her door, she paused. What if she stayed? Could she fight Peter for her freedom? Did she have a choice other than to run? Her brain ran through every scenario she could think of. No. This was the only choice. She had to be a survivor. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. She chose flight.

  She creaked open her door, not daring to breathe. She used her nose first. Old Spice. Chocolate. And the smell of alcohol and sunflower oil that Reynolds used for his hair gel. No one else was in the hallway. She eased her door open and stepped through it. She’d given the sleeping pills thirty minutes to start working, but maybe it hadn’t been enough. Stepping through the doorway, she found Reynolds in his usual chair, body canted to the right—snoring. She exhaled. Thank God.

  Sprinting down the hall, she paused at the top of the stairs. There was no way she was making it out the front door. She’d already seen Peter leave. He only ever gave her two sleeping pills when he was going out. Didn’t matter though, the security team he’d hired a month ago when she’d gotten her powers were ever vigilant. Or at least what she imagined was vigilant per the action movies she’d watched. None of them ever seemed to go on break. They actually paid attention at night. But lucky for her, they were all looking out. None of them was focused on keeping her in—just on keeping everyone else out.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she landed softly and instead of the front door, she headed right for the kitchen. As a kid, she and Peter had played hide- and- seek in the house for hours during rainy afternoons. Being older, he’d always gotten bored with the game. But not her. She’d found the old bomb shelter on one of her marathon hiding sessions. She’d been hiding in the pantry and had flattened against the far wall in an effort to slink further into the darkness—and that wall had given way.

  She’d been terrified. She’d eventually gone back with her father and shown him what she’d found. Now, as she tiptoed into the deserted kitchen, she smiled at the memory. Her father going first with the large flashlight in hand, resolute that he wouldn’t actually find anything behind that pantry wall. What they’d found was a bomb shelter from the thirties. In all likelihood it was probably used more for making moonshine during prohibition.

  When Cassie slipped into the shelter, she flipped on her flashlight. Dust particles filled her field of vision. No one had been down here in years. Before her father had died, he’d intimated that he’d never told anyone about their secret hideaway.

  Cassie traversed around the small table and the covered chaise using the shelves lining the walls to steady her progress. To her right, she heard scurrying and swallowed hard. Please don’t let me find a mouse. Please don’t let me find a mouse. When she reached the tunnel, she sucked in a breath of dusty air.

  Getting on her hands and knees, she began crawling through the hard packed earth, praying she didn’t disturb anything creepy and crawly or fuzzy and furtive.

  For several dark minutes, as she followed the trail, all that filtered through Cassie’s sense of smell was earth. Wet, dank earth and animals. Some alive, others not so much. After what seemed like forever fresher, greener smelling air washed away the pungent odor of things dead and alive. After another ten minutes, Cassie reached the end of the tunnel.

  She tried to focus her hearing, but all she heard was trickling water and owls. Some crickets and scurrying forest nightlife. Holy cow. She was free. Whipping around, she tried to get her bearings. Through the trees, she saw the lights of the house some distance away. Maybe a mile. Maybe more. Damn, how long had she been in that tunnel? Had Peter noticed her missing yet? No, he couldn’t have. She’d hear the dogs looking for her by now.

  “Get a move on,” she muttered to herself. Just because no one had noticed her missing yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t come looking for her soon. And she wanted to be out of the woods by then and at least somewhere she had access to transportation.

  Running south, she followed the stream, for once grateful for what Peter had done to her. She was fast and agile, even in the dark of night. She navigated the brush at record speed. Before long, her path ran parallel to Fisk Road. If she kept following it south east, she’d eventually hit the school and the center of town. And Mallory and Bryan.

  Chapter Three

  Cassie didn’t want to think about her friends. Sure. When she’d made like the boys of Prison Break, it had been about getting out to see her friends. But now it was about so much more. Peter was never going to let her go. She had to get free. But she also owed it to her friends to warn them. Peter would come after them and it would be her fault. And she needed some help with some wheels. M
aybe Mallory would loan her hers. It was a tall order, but she’d have to ask. Then she could put miles between her and her brother.

  Hanging a left at Briargate Road, she followed the sounds of revelry to the school. Kids of all ages roamed round. Laughing and talking and playing in the fake snow. Some were in band uniforms. Some in cheerleading uniforms. She’d seen enough movies to know that never the twain shall meet. Heading straight for the gazebo where the sounds of the live band were coming from, she saw Mallory leaning over the gazebo laughing uproariously. Cassie had to smile. She’d really miss her friend.

  Her eyes did a quick scan of the grounds and she found Bryan instantly, segregated from the crowd. Leaning against the far wall of the school, he watched her. When their gazes met, he gave her an easy, lazy smile. Without conscious knowledge, her feet moved toward him. She probably looked like hell. After all, she’d been trekking in the mud for the last hour.

  She halted about ten feet from him, unsure of what to do or say. Thankfully he spoke first. Inclining his head, he whispered, “Cassie.”

  “Uhm, hey Bryan.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “You okay? You look a little…” His voice trailed off.

  “She looked down at herself. “Worse for wear. Yeah I know.“ She looked around. She didn’t really have time to talk to him. She needed Mallory. “I’m sorry I’m late. I can’t stay either. I just thought I’d say hi. I need to grab Mallory and borrow her car for something.”

  Bryan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She’d never learned the nuances of lying “Not really, but there’s nothing you can do about it. “

  He shrugged. “You’ll never know unless you trust me. Want to tell me why you look like you’ve just done a mud run?”

  Did she trust him with her secret? Would it get him hurt? “I, uhm, had a little trouble getting out of the house tonight.” There, that was the truth at least.

  Bryan frowned. “What, did your brother drag you out through the mud ‘cause you asked to go out?”

  She giggled at the mental imagery. “You’re actually not too far off.”

  Nodding, he added. “Any particular reason you want to borrow Mallory’s car? I have my bike if you want it.”

  She blinked at him. “Oh wow, that’s really cool of you, but I can’t. I just need Mallory. I couldn’t ask you for a ride.”

  “Why not? You obviously need to get somewhere, and last I saw Mallory, she was heading out with Greg Meeks. So she might be awhile.”

  Cassie turned around and scanned the gazebo where she’d seen her friend. Sure enough the redhead wasn’t there. Damn. Mallory had been talking about Greg for ages. If she was with him then borrowing her car would be out of the question. There was no way Mallory would bail on the opportunity to make out with the hottest guy in the world, as she saw it.

  That also meant Cassie wouldn’t get to say goodbye. But maybe that was for the best. Everyone would swear they’d seen her with Greg all night and that would keep Peter away from her friend. A twinge of guilt pinched her heart as she thought about what Peter might do to Bryan. “Maybe this isn’t such a good—”

  “Look, you need a lift.” He shrugged. “I can give you one.”

  “Oh okay. Uhm, then, maybe if you could give me a ride to the bus station.” The nearest train station was two towns over.

  He didn’t even blink when she said bus station. Instead, he yanked his baseball hat from his back pocket and held out his hand to her. Cassie stared at it. Her heart thudded trying to explode out of her chest. The closer she got to him, the louder she could hear his heartbeat as well. And the more in time to hers it got. Boom, thud, boom, thud, boom, thud.

  She slipped her ice-cold, dirt-stained hand into his and he squeezed. Not once did he cringe at the dirt or filth. Instead, steady warmth surrounded her diminutive hand and for the first time since Peter had turned her into a freakazoid, she felt safe.

  He tugged her along the back of the school and they approached a motorcycle. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

  He grinned. “Somehow I had a feeling.” He handed her a helmet.

  Cassie slipped the helmet over her hair and hopped on the back of his motorcycle. How the hell had she gotten here? On the back of some guy’s motorcycle riding off into the—well, not quite the sunset, but to a bus station. To freedom.

  This wasn’t supposed to be her life. Her parents weren't supposed to die and her brother was supposed to protect her. Instead, he had become the enemy. He’d become the point of fear in her life. And now she was running from him as fast as her legs could carry her. Which, lucky for her, was now faster than an Olympic sprinter and prolonged over distances.

  As they whizzed down the streets, houses and trees and cars flew by and she squeezed her hands around Bryan’s waist. Would he pay dearly for this one favor? How much trouble would he be in? Would Peter even know that he’d helped her? Yes. Peter knew everything. She shoved away her guilt of having dragged this poor boy into her private hell.

  As they pulled up to the Greyhound station, she eased up on her grip. Bryan parked the bike and cut off the engine. Immediately, it was as if her hearing breathed a sigh of relief and went back into overdrive mode, listening for the littlest thing out of place. If she concentrated hard enough she could hear conversations inside the bus station.

  She eased herself off the bike and faced Bryan. “Thanks for the ride. It would have been a hell of a walk.”

  He shrugged. “I figure if you were running from something, I’d want to be the one to help you. At least I could do that since I’ve been too afraid to talk to you since we were kids.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Why?”

  He chuffed. “’’Cause I thought you were pretty. I was so excited when you started to come back to school. I pretty much joined the food bank volunteer program so I could see you. I thought just one of these days I’d have the nerve to talk to you. Kind of figures, I finally work up the nerve and you gotta skip town.”

  She slowly expelled a breath. Not sure what to say, she tugged on the hem of her mud-caked hoodie. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d known.”

  “How could you know? It’s not like you’re a mind reader or anything.”

  Yeah, not like. “Listen, Bryan. I appreciate all of this—“

  Bryan took a step into her space. The kiss happened so quickly, their lips making contact so briefly, she didn’t believe it had happened at first. His gaze searched hers. When she blinked back at him, speechless, he kissed her again. This time the contact of their lips was much more deliberate. Firmer. Cassie forgot to breathe.

  Bryan released her and stepped back. “Sorry. I just had to do that once. Pretty sure it would have driven me nuts forever if I didn’t.”

  Cassie’s heart galloped and raced. Tentatively, she put her fingertips to her lips. Unable to stop the smile that played on them, she met his gaze and blushed. “I’m glad you did.”

  Bryan grinned. “Listen, whatever’s got you spooked, maybe you don’t have to leave. Maybe—“

  She stopped him mid-flow as her ears picked up on the distant screeching of tires. “Listen, Bryan, you have to go. Thank you for the ride. Please don’t tell anyone you saw me. Please go. It’s not safe.”

  “Cassie, what’s wrong?” He looked around, obviously alarmed by her panic, but didn’t seem to see anything.

  Of course he wouldn’t. But she had to get him out of here. “Bryan. Look, I wish I could explain, but I don’t have time.”

  “Cassie, tell, me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

  Her eyes scanned the so far empty roads. “Bryan, you can’t help me. You have to run. If you don’t, he’ll hurt you.”

  He frowned. “Your brother? I’m not running without you. You need my help.”

  The screech of tires pierced Cassie’s hearing. “Bryan, listen to me. This isn’t a good idea.” With all the power and force of her will, she implored him to listen. She hated using her power on him, and
truth be told, it had only worked a handful of times, but she pushed the thought into his mind with a force of will so strong she worried she’d have a nosebleed. He was going to get hurt if she couldn’t make him listen. From the distant tire sounds, they only had minutes—three maybe five.

  Bryan held his head still for a moment. Then slowly, deliberately, he repeated. “Go. Now.” But he didn’t move. What the hell?

  “Bryan, move.” She grabbed his arm and shoved, but he didn’t go easily, as if catatonic. She’d seen that look before. On some of Peter’s patients when they’d come by the house. As if drugged. Cassie recoiled. Had she somehow done this to him? Oh God. More screeching tires. Frantically she searched their surroundings. She had to get him to safety.

  Cassie jumped on the bike and pulled him with her. “Bryan. Come on.” He complied, wrapping his arms around her. She followed every motion she’d seen him do. Gas, brake, rev engine. The bike roared and sputtered to life. She immediately drove in the opposite direction of Fisk Street. Over the roar, she shouted, “Where do you live?”

  He leaned in and shouted. “Down on Holly Lane. Through the center of town.”

  Would they make it that far? Hard to tell. It wasn’t until she checked her rearview that she understood what a fatal error she’d made. The cars were right on her tail. Not only did Peter know she was gone, he was tracking her somehow. She’d been an idiot to think he’d just let her escape. And now she’d dragged Bryan into this mess. His only crime being that he wanted to help her.

  Bryan wasn’t going to make it home tonight. At least not by her hand. As she drove, she ran through any scenario that might get him to safety. If she’d been able to get him to listen to her and put him in a semi -catatonic state, she could maybe do the same to Peter’s men. She could make Bryan forget her. Then she could make Peter’s men forget they’d seen her with him. As plans went, it was pretty half- assed, but it was all she had.