Seducing the Cold Bodyguard Gangster

Chapter Five

Some rescue, I say to myself, as we made our way through the rough terrain of the large park reserve. The night was hot and horrible, with stuffy humidity from the swelling heat. I know that I am absolutely dripping with disgusting sweat. I would have thought that December in Texas was a lot cooler than this. The heat is also a result of the exercise walking this much at night. The first thing I want after this is justice with the name of Damien Cole under it, and then a nice long cool shower. 

During our hike, I fell and slipped several more times against the rocks and trees. Emilio has now offered to carry me three times. I don’t know why I keep refusing, knowing in how much pain I actually am. I have never been in more burning agony, exhaustion, and fear. But, these three are strangers. I do not know them, even if I know that they were sent by Mr. Whitaker. He is also a stranger. I have hired him, and therefore these three as well. But I am not ready to trust anyone at the moment. And I do not want to be in someone’s arms being carried right now. I don’t want to be touched at all.

How could I have been such an i***t to not see anything about my partner for over a year was real? What kind of dream world had I been living in? My instincts had always been so good, I could always trust my gut. I have never once questioned my relationship with Damien. I will reexamine every relationship that I have, and all future ones. The hard lesson on who to trust in this world has definitely been learned. 

After countless hours, the four of us finally stopped at a main road. It is pitch black and we are on the side of a highway in the middle of nowhere. I am afraid that Damien is looking for us right now, and I do not feel like being visible on a highway is a good idea, even if it is completely vacant without a vehicle in sight. Any car that passes us are likely to call the police and inform them there is a group of people dressed completely in black holding guns with a pretty distressed white female, which is also not a good idea. Emilio, and Miss fierce, keep looking forward and then behind us again which affirms that I am still in real danger. 

Finally, we reach a van left parked on the side of an old house closed down for the winter. I cross my hands over my shoulders thankfully that we can finally stop walking as Miss Fierce starts to hotwire the vehicle. The engine rolls on with a difficult crackle like it has not been used in years. I get in without question followed by Emilio sitting rigid and ready for a gun battle. 

The seats are scratched and torn black leather. There are no seatbelts. This van was old, and I am surprised is still even running. At least we are no longer just walking on the highway. 

It was time to break the silence with this team of three. We are a good distance now from Damien and I want some answers about the man that I hired to get me out of that horror scene. 

“How far away were you three?” I asked the leader a few minutes into our ride.

“We were in Mexico when we got the call from Mr. Whitaker having just finished another contract there. We made our way to the airport at Monterrey International close to the border as Mr. Whitaker uncovered where your partner was working in Texas. Once we got the location, we were dropped in by plane about two miles east of your location.” 

Oh. Umm ok. Sure. That’s fine. Whatever you had to do to get me out of there, I guess. I am very impressed with however Mr. Whitaker had managed all of this and especially how quickly. He was obviously very connected around the entire world. All I knew about him was what Tyler had told me. He had been with him in the military, which probably meant he was in the Navy and a SEAL like Tyler. That would indicate he was trained for combat. Now, however, he was an international gun for hire. How does one go from being a soldier in the Navy to a private bodyguard? With the cost of seven million dollars, not a minor sum, by far, he must be highly successful as well. And I am sure glad about that. It’s not like I hired him after looking over a folded resume. All I had was his phone number and my trust in Tyler. 

The sun was rising and we were heading in the direction of the Texan coast. I looked at the leader. I want to fathom a guess that he is in his forties. He had gorgeous brown eyes, tanned skin, and brown lips. His hair was very dark but not completely black, and even wavy with a few curls falling attractively around his neck. He looked like a well-trained army official that could snap a neck and I was pretty happy that he was capable of it too. 

Miss Fierce is driving the van at an incredible speed. I consider only for a few seconds about asking her to slow down because it is terrifying, but at the same time I feel like I should be confident that she knows how to drive this van really well and the faster the better. The speed has the giant Emilio rocking back and forth trying to keep hold of his gun with one hand with his other holding the side of the two seats that his expansive frame covers. Their leader as well, is finding it difficult to hold his gun firmly with each twist and turn of the road. I am happy it’s not just me who has to hold on during this girl’s rollercoaster trip. 

Not even an hour later, we stopped at the line of the coast in a what appears is a quant suburban town. 

“Miss Ericson…” the leader lifted his hand to help me out of the van as we came to a stop at the edge of a dock on the waterfront.

I know we must be just outside of Houston on the beaches leading to the Gulf of Mexico.  

My injuries are clear without shoes. My feet are covered in blood, sweat, dirt, and that painful lash cut from the glass and walking for so long without the protection of shoes. I am limping and can’t help it one bit as we walk towards a wharf. It was still slightly dark in the early hours of the morning. I guess a boat trip is next on the agenda. Is that boat going to take us to wherever Mr. Whitaker is?

I followed after the leader as he moved towards a boat ramp that had several small boats tied to it. He gestured Miss Fierce towards a giant yacht moored at the end.

“Shouldn’t we be going to the police right now?” I asked seeing that the three of them were intent to take that yacht, and none of them were producing a key for it.  

Miss Fierce pulled out a small digital computer that looked pretty technically advanced. She then started to climb towards the deck. I don’t stop to ask what the plan is in all of this. I don’t really have a choice but to follow as we are now stealing a yacht. The further we got away from Damien the happier I was going to be. I got straight in as she started the engine followed by Emilio. 

“Police is not an option at the moment Miss Ericson. My name is Allessandro, this is Emilio,” he addressed Mr. Muscle, “And this is Carla.” Allessandro added towards Miss Fierce. 

They both nodded to me in turn. I think that Carla was incredibly seductive. She was dressed completely in black-grey paint as well yes, but through the paint you could see her tanned Spanish skin was delicate. She has light blue eyes as well, unusual given the most common color would have been brown from Spain. Both Allessandro and Emilio have those chocolate brown eyes. I look at her defined arms. She could be an Olympian with those clearly toned muscles and zero bodyfat. They are all strong and distinctly fit, something that is surely accredited to their profession. 

“Vanessa.” I said in their acknowledgement to be polite and thankful to them even though they already knew very well who I was. 

“Like I said, Miss Ericson, we had just completed a mission nearby in Mexico when we got a call from Mr. Whitaker. He deterred our trip here to extract you and bring you to him, since he was too far away to be able to get to you in time.” Despite he is Spanish, Allessandro’s English was perfect. So much so, that he may have travelled abroad in an English-speaking country to study.

“And, where is my mysterious rescuer?” I asked. 

“Italy.”

Who is this Mr. Whitaker who you have set me up with for seven million dollars Tyler? I have definitely never heard my best friend Tyler ever mention him before and we caught up at least monthly when he was in San Francisco on business. Italy, not just around the corner was right. 

“We are taking you back over the border and straight to the coast of Mexico, and then Monterrey International Airport. Right now, it is too difficult to travel on public flights. Mr. Cole will be looking for you at the airports in Auston and Houston much more likely than Mexico. There is a private jet fueled and waiting to take you privately and safely to Italy. We will be with you the entire time. You are safe now.” Allessandro was trying to comfort me, and it was not working given that new information. 

“Mexico? Then Italy? I want to stay in the United States.” I demanded, “I want to go to the police. I have to tell them everything I just saw in Houston. I don’t want to go to Italy!” I shouted as the rather sizeable engine of this super yacht rolled on with Carla at the helm.  

“We have a lot of new information about your situation Miss Ericson. I think it is best if you meet with Mr. Whitaker.”

“What is that new information?” I asked lowering my tone once more.

I had no reason to yell at these professionals. They were following Mr. Whitakers orders to get me out of Texas, that was all. 

“We are not fully aware of the situation either Miss Ericson. We have only been informed by Mr. Whitaker that things have become rather complicated, and that we must bring you to him to secure your safety.”

I huffed walking to the side of the deck and peering back at land. I have never been on a yacht before and it is definitely a sight of pure luxury. It is two levels above sea-level and that probably means two below deck as well. The yacht seems abandoned. There is not a crew member in sight. 

Carla is in the captain’s deck steering with that digital computer. I look out over the beach of Texas as the sun starts to rise. This has been one heck of a night. My fear has subsided completely to my exhaustion. I have no clue how we are about to cross the border by boat to Mexico. Surely, that is not an easy thing to do past patrols boats. But who would be looking at a massive yacht like this anyway? And I assume that those patrols are more interested in travelers crossing the other way. All I want right now is some rest and to not think about Damien. 

I feel a bit of reprieve as the sizable yacht began to coast further into the ocean water away from land. Damien was going to be looking for me on flights, just as Allessandro had instructed, which is why we were now heading in the direction of a private jet in another country to take me to Italy. I felt a feeling of safety, but not in its entirety. I have the realization of one particular reality. I don’t think I will feel safe again until both Damien and his father, Derek, who must be involved in this as well, are both behind bars. 

I do not want to go to Italy. I do not like that whoever Mr. Whitaker is, he is drawing me towards him. Why is he not coming to me instead? Why can’t I just go to the closest police station and tell them everything that just happened? I know that the Cole’s are highly connected and might be able to get to me. But now I have hired a man for seven million to protect me against him. Or, I could be placed in the witness protection program. I will testify at a trial. I have no problem with that. So why are we now on the way to Europe?