Triple-Duty Bodyguards: Chapter 47

The drive to the location is a nightmare.

Matt is losing it. I haven’t seen him get so lost in his flashbacks in a long, long time. It’s like they’re rolling over him in waves. Every few minutes, he’s clenching up, panting, trying to wrestle out of his seatbelt or slamming a fist against the inside of the car door. I try to talk him through them, but it’s getting harder and harder to reach him. I can tell he feels trapped in here, so I have Glen open the skylight in the car’s roof—then shut it again almost immediately, as Matt grabs onto it like he’s going to climb right out of the car and jump onto the road.

The officer in the driver’s seat looks downright terrified. He keeps twisting in his seat to stare at Matt, as if he’s about to pull out his gun and start shooting us all.

“Is he going to…” he starts, as Matt slams a hand against the car door, panting.

“Stop looking at him,” I snap, and the man’s eyes widen. He turns to face forward. I check the GPS. We’re twelve minutes out. Just twelve minutes. I swear to God, every second feels like an hour. The road ahead of us is dark and empty; it’s really more of a dirt trail, and the trees are so dense here that the headlights only light the path a few metres ahead. We’re forced to drive slower so we don’t crash. I grit my teeth. It’s taking too long. We need to be there now.

Matt jerks in his seat. I sigh. “Matt. C’mon, man. You’re good.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, and he wheels, throwing his fist at me sloppily. I shift out of the way, catch his wrist, and force my fingers between his, holding his hand. Holding his hand. If any of the guys back at Angel HQ ever saw this, they’d probably take a photo and distribute it to all the staff in a high priority email. Frame it and hang it in everyone’s offices. Get an artist to turn it into the company Christmas card. But I don’t know what else to do. It worked when Briar did it.

“C’mon,” I mutter. “You’re good. Listen. Everyone here is speaking English. You’re good.”

He looks down at our joined hands. His throat jumps. “I love her,” he says suddenly.

“I noticed.”

His fingers tighten on mine, gripping me hard, and my heart just about breaks.