He tightened his grip on his gun and leaned back, flush against the wall, as the sound of voices neared. He had counted three remaining armed men in the hallway before seeking cover. All inconspicuous in their standard-issue black shirt, suit, and tie.
A door opened, then closed.
He peeked out over the edge of the alcove, cautiously stealing a glimpse of the cluster of men. Make that four. He would have remembered that turd-brown shirt.
Bull leaned back again and stifled a groan. During his time in service, he had killed men. And each soul he took had taken its toll on him. His life and occupational choices since then were driven by his intense protective instincts. He would defend his clients and had completed each task with both a zero-failure and zero-casualty rate. But having to fight off four men likely meant he would have to add another soul to his mental list of kills.
Glancing up, Bull spotted the security mirror in the corner of the hallway.
“A man and young woman were spotted running up the stairs.” The voice was new and likely that of the new guy.
Bull craned his neck to get a better view and watched the men in the mirror, cataloging every possible detail of Mr. Brown Shirt. The man wiped blood off his hands with a handkerchief. He must have beaten the information out of someone. The man weaved his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He then curled his hands into fists in a slow deliberate movement as he looked to the others. “Did you check all the rooms?”
The men grunted.
“They’ve got to be on the roof. Go. Now!”
The men raced into the stairwell door on the north side.
“Bull, I’m here. Where are you?” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back when the familiar voice filtered through his earpiece. Finally, the secondary security team had arrived. Well, at least one member had. The one he knew was most motivated to keep his current charge safe. The lovestruck gaze Reinaldo aimed at the boss’s daughter left little doubt the man would stand guard while Bull took care of these men.
“We’re on the sixteenth floor. Don’t use the north stairwell.”
“Please tell me she’s safe.” The winded sound of his voice was surprising, likely a result of him sprinting up the stairs. There was little doubt in Bull’s mind the man was racing up sixteen flights of stairs like a knight on a mission to rescue his princess. Daddy dearest would likely castrate the man if he suspected the secret love between his little girl and his right-hand man.
“Don’t offend me,” Bull responded with a huff of a chuckle.
Within seconds and after Bull’s confirmation that the floor was clear, Reinaldo pushed through the door of the southside stairwell and immediately stalked over to him, scanning side to side until he joined him in the alcove. “The others are on their way.”
With a nod, Bull quickly led Reinaldo to Annamaria’s hiding place. He pushed open the door to the small storage room and spotted his client’s daughter huddled in the dark corner. Bull barely had a chance to say a word when Reinaldo shoved him aside and landed on his knees in front of her, pulling her into a tight hug. They clung to each other as they whispered words of affection and thankful praise to the heavens.
An eye roll was imminent, but Bull held back the urge. It would take a force greater than a snow blizzard in hell to drop him to his knees like that for someone.
“Can you keep her safe while I nip this shit in the bud?”
Reinaldo held her close as he looked over his shoulder. “With my life.”
It took every ounce of effort to steel his reaction. He wanted to scoff at the clichéd response, but the sudden tightness in his chest shut him up. If he had someone who stared back at him with that much devotion, maybe he’d understand the desperation in their embrace.
Determined to wrap things up tonight, he pushed out the door of the storage room as the young couple still lingered in his mind.
Letting the eye roll finally escape, Bull entered the south stairwell and climbed the steps leading to the roof.
At thirty-eight, he hadn’t felt that squeeze of heart most would call love, but he had been in a few long-term relationships that might have become serious. The last two relationships had left the strongest sting. Justin hadn’t cared about anyone but himself, and Amelia was all about filling her sex quota for the week, even if he wasn’t around to satisfy that itch.
So much for commitment.
Each time, Bull had left without a second of hesitation. It had hurt, but the realization of how easy it had been to walk away hurt even more. Maybe Cupid’s arrows weren’t strong enough to pierce his armor? He shook off the thought. Those magical arrows had made their way through Aidan’s armor—his friend and fellow brother-in-arms. If arrows could spear that tough heart, anything was possible.
Returning his attention to the mission, Bull carefully turned the handle to the last door at the top of the stairwell and inched the door open, ignoring the instant bite of cold Chicago air slapping his face.
Damn, he missed Miami.
The distant sound of voices traveled through the otherwise silent night.
He opened the door a little more and squeezed through. Keeping his body low, he worked his way closer to the chatter, taking cover behind the rooftop air-conditioning units.
The men stood together. He counted off…two, three…where was the fourth—
He sensed the presence before he heard the click of the gun cocking behind him.
Crap.
Bull whipped around and gripped the barrel of the man’s gun with his left hand and delivered an upper cut with his right, knocking the guy unconscious. He quickly stepped forward, hooking his arms under the guy and lowering him to the ground. Bull turned in time to see the remaining men split up, likely on the hunt for him and seemingly unaware of their comrade’s takedown. He sighed. This was going to take longer than he had hoped. He holstered his gun, preferring to use his fists when possible. He wouldn’t let a random shot cut through the night sky and hit an innocent bystander.
He pulled a plastic cable tie from his pocket and bound the man’s hands, securing him to one of the pipes on the roof. Bull tucked the man’s gun into his waistband for safe keeping and sought cover. After tonight, he’d rethink these bodyguard assignments. He didn’t need the extra money. He had enough steady work with his usual security assessments to keep him busy and cushion his already comfy nest egg. Besides, axing the extracurricular bodyguard duties would free up time to spend with his sister.
He had to chew on that a bit more once the assignment was over.
Three more men to go. Then he could call it a wrap. Easy peasy.
He crouched behind one of the rooftop HVAC units when he spotted two of the men to his left.
He edged toward the pair, keeping himself hidden as best he could. He snuck up behind man number one, wrapping his hand around the man’s mouth and his arm around the guy’s neck. The man dropped his gun and clutched Bull’s arm, fighting to break free.
The gun clanked when it hit the ground.
Guy number two spun and froze at the sight of Bull holding his friend in a headlock. The momentary distraction was all Bull needed to deliver a kick to the guy’s midsection, knocking him back against the thick metal pipe just as the first guy weakened in his grip. He dropped guy number one, checked his pulse, and walked over to guy number two. Both were breathing but passed out. Perfect. With another pair of plastic cable ties, he tethered the guys together and pulled them over to another pipe, securing them to the metal to keep them in place.