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“Savage.”
I nod toward him. “You good?”
“No,” Cash says. “This whole thing is fucked.”
“I don’t see how you can stop her. She’s going on a vacation,” I say. “That’s a pretty normal thing for an adult woman to do.”
“You don’t know the full story.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Let’s talk in the study.”
Apparently, this is that serious. Cash’s grandfather’s study is stuffy, full of dark wood and old pictures, and the faint smell of cigar smoke. It’s like the spirit of the man inhabits the place, staring down on anyone who enters with disapproval. He reminds me of a drill sergeant, even in pictures with his family.
Cash opens the curtains and allows in light that show off motes of dust. “Ganny keeps it like it was when he was alive.”
I nod. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I need your help.”
“What do you need?” I’ll always help Cash. He’s been my best friend since the day I arrived in Heatstroke. He saved my life, and I owe him a debt that runs so deep, there’s no denying a request.
During my time in the SEALs, I had brothers. Cash didn’t serve with me, but I consider him as close as those men because of what he’s done to help me.
Cash pinches the bridge of his nose and stares out of the window at the slatted fence that rings the yard.
“What is it?” I ask.
“She’s got a stalker.”
Heat travels through my body at the speed of fucking light. I hold my breath and release it slowly. “What?”
“Hannah has a stalker. Some fuckhead out in Houston who met her on a dating site. He keeps texting her, calling her, that kind of thing. He seems like a limp dick, but I’m not willing to take any chances,” Cash says. “Dad’s been trying to get her to move in here, but she says no. He went as far as to get movers to go over to her apartment, but she refused. And the messages are increasing in frequency. It’s only a matter of time until this guy shows up, and if he can find her here, he can find her when she’s away from Heatstroke. When she’s vulnerable. The most she’ll do is arm herself, or so she says.”
“She has a gun?”
“No. Pepper spray.”
“That would be first prize,” I say. “A gun. She learns how to shoot. What about the cops?”
“You know they won’t do a damn thing,” Cash replies. “My hands have been tied, but you?—”
“Me, what?” I ask.
“You are the only man I trust around her.”
That’s a kick to the stomach, both because it’s a reminder and because it sends my guilt to new heights.
“Savage,” Cash says. “I need you to be her bodyguard.”
“Say what now?”
“Her bodyguard. At least while she’s still in town, until—” Cash’s gaze flickers from left to right, desperate. “Fuck. Okay, I get that you can’t uproot your whole life and follow her across the country?—”
“You’d be right there. I can’t leave the camp.”
“You haven’t hosted a camp yet, right?” he asks. “You’re still getting it set up?”
