Bodyguard For Christmas. Carol J. Post

sure he’d moved the last of his possessions. The break-in had shaken him. Apparently, it had taken almost losing his nephew to make him realize life wasn’t just one cosmic joke.

      Colton turned from the door, Liam perched on his hip. This time, the house would sit empty. Not only had Cade gotten an apartment, he wasn’t even going to be in town for the next month. He’d teased that he didn’t want to be mistaken for Colton.

      In reality, he’d gotten leads on some collections to be auctioned off. Cade’s plans often changed at the last moment. The lifestyle suited him well. He didn’t let anything tie him down, which was why he’d never bought a house, even though he could afford it. Home ownership felt too much like commitment.

      Colton headed down the porch steps. A black Suburban waited behind his Highlander. Jasmine stood next to the driver’s door.

      Her eyes shifted to him briefly before she went back to scanning their surroundings, ever vigilant. She’d spent the night and slept on the daybed in Liam’s room. Thursday night, Liam had awoken screaming so many times Colton had lost count. Last night’s sleep had been blissfully free of nightmares, at least for his son. Unfortunately, he’d had a few of his own.

      As Colton swung open his rear driver door, Jasmine continued to stand guard. Her presence brought just the sense of security he’d hoped.

      Before leaving Burch Security yesterday, he’d signed the necessary paperwork. As he had written the check for the first payment, Gunter Burch had reassured him of Jasmine’s qualifications. Between her military background, her civilian assignments and all the advanced training in both capacities, he and Liam were going to be in good hands. Of course, eating carpet fibers had already dispelled whatever doubts he’d had.

      Jasmine’s eyes shifted to him, and he nodded. Yes, he was ready. More than ready.

      She opened the Suburban’s door. “I’ll be behind you, but I might hang back on the interstate. Keep your phone plugged into your car’s stereo system. Anything suspicious, I’ll let you know.”

      “Thank you.” She was only doing her job, a job that was costing him a pretty penny. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating everything she was doing to protect them.

      He leaned into the vehicle to secure Liam in his car seat. Brutus sat next to him, tail thumping against leather. Huge brown eyes seemed to hold sadness, maybe even guilt, as if the dog sensed he’d failed in his job to protect.

      Colton fastened the last latch, then leaned across Liam to pet Brutus. “It’s okay, buddy. It wasn’t your fault.”

      He straightened and closed the door. Yesterday morning, before going to Burch Security, he’d taken care of the things he hadn’t gotten to on Thursday. Mandy’s jewelry was now locked in his safety deposit box.

      Then he’d gone to a thrift store and parked at the open bay door in back. It had taken all the strength he had to climb from the vehicle and pull out the first box. With each one he passed to the volunteer, he’d felt as if he was handing over a piece of his heart.

      Now it was done, and several suitcases holding his and Liam’s possessions occupied the space behind the back seat. He’d packed everything he could think of. Anything he’d forgotten, he’d buy in Murphy.

      The investigation was far from complete. Cops had viewed the security footage. Besides the knit masks, the intruders had worn gloves, so the likelihood of recovering prints was nil.

      As he drove through the subdivision’s exit gate, some of the tension flowed out of him. In two more hours, he’d be pulling up the drive and stopping in front of the log home with its soaring windows and steeply pitched roof.

      Warm, cozy and filled with love, it had always held a special place in his heart. He and Mandy had purchased it six years earlier for a weekend getaway and built so many memories.

      Four years ago, he and his pregnant wife had decided Murphy was a perfect place to raise children, and they’d made the move. Until the district attorney’s office had lured him back.

      Now he was going home.

      After several turns, he accelerated up the I-285 ramp. The black Suburban was right behind him, Jasmine at the wheel. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes. But he didn’t need to see them to know she was watching traffic in more than a defensive-driving sense.

      He craned his neck to glance at his son in the rearview mirror. As expected, he was awake, left arm clutching his plush rabbit, right thumb in his mouth. Another change Colton had noticed. As Liam’s speech had gotten less, soon stopping completely, his thumb sucking had gone from only when sleeping to almost all the time. Colton would have to address it eventually, but certainly not now.

      He moved into the left lane and accelerated. Varying his speed would make it harder for someone to follow him, at least without Jasmine noticing. He checked his mirrors. On a Saturday morning, traffic was moderate. The Suburban was some distance back, traveling in the right lane. He signaled and prepared to merge onto I-75. As he decreased his speed, several vehicles went around him. He moved into the far-right lane and exited 285 in front of a slow-moving dump truck.

      After several miles, he picked up speed again. Soon he’d be on 575, headed toward Murphy. An unexpected sense of anticipation wove through him.

      He’d made this move twice before. Each time, it had represented a fresh start, and he’d found freedom, happiness, a sense of belonging.

      The first time, he’d been fifteen, leaving behind years in foster care to become part of a real family. The second time, he’d been filled with excitement, ready to start his own family.

      This would be a new start also, one he’d never hoped to make. He and Liam, facing an uncertain future, their family unit shattered. Hoping to stay hidden from someone who might want them dead.

      The phone’s ringtone cut across his thoughts. It was Jasmine.

      “Don’t take the 575 exit. I think you have a tail.”

      His pulse picked up speed, and an instant sheet of moisture coated his palms. “Which vehicle?”

      “The silver Mustang.”

      He looked in his rearview mirror. There it was, one lane to his left, about five cars back. “Can you slow down, get a tag number?”

      “I’ve tried. I think he knows I’m with you. Whenever I drop back, he does, too. Won’t give me an opportunity to read his tag.”

      “What do you have in mind?”

      “Ernest Barrett Parkway is the next exit. Easy off, easy on.”

      After he disconnected the call, Jasmine slowed down so much he almost lost sight of her. Several cars moved between them. The Mustang didn’t.

      As he approached 575, the GPS told him to exit. He ignored it. Jasmine was in charge and he had no problem letting her call the shots.

      After he exited I-75, the light ahead was red. He eased to a stop, then dialed her back. “Did our friend follow?”

      “I’m not sure, but I think he’s behind the box truck.”

      He counted the vehicles lined up in his rearview mirror. In their lane, three waited between him and Jasmine, two more between her and the box truck. Likely every one of them would turn left on Ernest Barrett. If the Mustang followed him and Jasmine back onto 75, they’d know for sure.

      The light changed, and he moved forward. As he made his way up the on-ramp, two vehicles followed from Ernest Barrett, a semitruck blocking any farther view.

      He completed his merge and touched the phone, still clipped into the dash mount. Jasmine’s rang four times, then went to voice mail.

      Maybe she was calling the police, which meant someone was following them. A sense of protectiveness gripped him, an urge to wrap Liam in his arms so tightly no one could pry him loose.

      Colton lifted his chin until the rearview mirror framed