Chapter Fifteen

This was the worst day of his career. The first time that a principal under his watch had gotten hurt. Gage didn’t care about the implications of his vocational fuck-up. All that mattered was Chantal—an individual who he cared for. An innocent woman cornered by a savage hireling. 

When he’d turned and seen her on the ground, shattered and hurt… 

Gage wiped a hand over his face as he pieced together what happened. He sat by Chantal’s side in a sectioned off area of the emergency room. She wouldn’t let go of his hand and knowing it might get him into trouble, he still held on. He’d removed his helmet and ran his other hand through his hair.

At some point, he’d need to let go and step back. Slip back into an MSD team leader mode. But she wouldn’t allow anyone else near her. And damn, if he didn’t feel as possessive as all hell. Gage should shut down this mounting attraction, which could only lead to the dismantling of her heart and his career. 

They’d given her a light sedative, and although she’d calmed down, Chantal fought the urge to sleep.

While they were alone for a minute, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. She hadn’t said much since arriving at the hospital—just described her assailant and whispered that he’d interrogated and strangled her for information. And her mother hadn’t yet arrived. Depending on how long Chantal remained at the hospital, the ambassador might choose to meet them at her residence. 

Still, Gage couldn’t fathom a reason for not rushing to your daughter’s side after such a traumatic encounter. 

“Merci—Thank you.” Chantal licked her swollen lips. Her voice sounded raspy, and it looked painful to talk. The red finger marks on her neck darkened as the bruising began to form, and Gage tamped down his rage. 

“Don’t say thank you. I’ve done nothing. My team failed, and you paid the price.”

“I tried to call your name… After he… I couldn’t speak.”

“Jesus, Chants.”

“Knew you would kill him.”

“I would’ve. A hundred times over. He won’t get away—DSS will track him down.”

 Glassy eyes still reflected her shock as she rolled to face him. “Bram Miller—probably not his real name.”

“No, honey. It doesn’t mean we won’t find him. Now, rest that voice.”

Brow creasing, she squeezed his hand. “He says he… he knew my father. Worked with him.”

“The shithead said that?”

“Said they were… partners.” Face crumpling, Chantal shook her head. “My father would never—”

“You need to rest. We’ll deal with unanswered questions once you’ve recovered.” However, it wasn’t likely that Gage would remain by her side. Chantal would most likely fly to the States under the protection of hired help. 

“I should’ve insisted on being in the treatment rooms. A tango slipped past my team. How did I let that happen?” Gage rubbed his forehead, analyzing the morning routine.

“Knew who you were… the flat tire and the beggar.”

Chantal was right. Rajin’s hired help planned and executed the infiltration, providing enough distraction to allow one man to slip through. No-one had known about a missing flash drive. Whatever was on that device was worth going head-to-head with an MSD team. They’d all underestimated the threat. 

“Ambassador Durant has arrived.” Gannon stuck his head past the curtain, and Gage stood.

She’d arrived two hours after her daughter’s attack. Gage hoped that whatever took precedence was worth the delay. Not wanting to let go, he exchanged a last lingering glance with the damaged woman curled on her side.

His nonperformance when it counted had added distress to her already haunted gaze. Shame warmed his skin. Unaware, she released his hand and smiled shakily. “Get back to your team. Thank you for your protection when I needed it most.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she winced. 

“Ice and rest. Listen to the doc.” Gage reluctantly stepped back and placed his helmet back on. 

“Chantal?” The curtain whipped open, and the ambassador approached with a scowl. “I was on a conference call with the White House when I got the news. Let me see that neck.” 

Chantal twisted to her back, flinching reflectively when her mother traced her jaw. She’d reacted that way with the doctor and even the nurses. But not with Gage. He gritted his teeth and looked away as he fastened his helmet strap. 

“How did this happen?” The ambassador turned on the two MSD agents in the room.

Gage wouldn’t make excuses. He deserved an ass whipping, and Chantal’s’ entire detail earned a dressing-down. 

“A hostile pretended to be a patient, and we dropped the ball. I take full responsibility for the assault.”

“Good. I’m holding you to that.”

“It’s not his fault…” Chantal sat up. 

“Chantal.” Gage shook his head.

“You’ll address her as Miss Durant. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Madam Ambassador.”

“I asked for privacy in treat… treatment rooms.” 

“Stop talking.” Gage clenched his fists. “You heard what the doc said.”

“You put me in this situation.” Chantal grabbed her mother’s jacket. “Where’s the flash drive?”

“The what?” The ambassador turned back to her daughter. 

“Is whatever is on that thing, worth… worth my life? That monster wanted Rajin’s flash drive.” Chantal’s face flushed, and her chest heaved. Gage stepped forward. 

“We don’t have a flash drive.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” The shouted words came out as a whisper. Her eyes filled. “Don’t leave me… out of the loop. It’s my life!”

“I’m not. Sweetie. It’s okay.” Her mother grasped her wrist, and Chantal drew back. 

“Don’t. She doesn’t want to be touched.” Gage’s muscles locked, and he craved to pull the ambassador away from her traumatized daughter. 

“What about Daddy?”

“What?”

“Knew him. He knew him.” Chantal pointed a trembling finger at her mother. “He knew.” 

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Madam Ambassador, your daughter should rest her throat.” The doctor stepped around the curtain. 

“Want to go home.” Chantal swung her legs over the side, and Gage sidled closer. 

“In about an hour. The IV should do its job.” They’d treated the inflammation with an Ibuprofen drip. “For pain, you can take over-the-counter meds—Advil or Tylenol.” 

“Let’s go, man.” Gannon grasped Gage’s arm. “She’s good—with family. Team Three are providing support for the drive back to the Jefferson House.” 

Gage nodded, knowing after today, Team Five would take a backseat until they knew their fate. They’d either stick with the detail, be reassigned, or sent back to Virginia for the debrief. This could be the last time he’d see Chantal—hurting and angry. He took a moment to take in every last detail—her glistening earthy brown eyes, her soft, slightly downturned mouth, and that one solitary freckle below her left eye. Chantal’s entire focus was on her mother, and she didn’t see him walk away—forcing one foot in front of the other. Gage hated the smell of hospitals, which reminded him of another tragic day—when he’d seen his mother for the last time. The hollow feeling in his gut expanded, and Gage shook off his friend’s hand on his shoulder. It was time for a debriefing, the first of many. His heart rate ratcheted as he left the room. Every step in the opposite direction bolstered his failure. 

“Son, a word?” 

Gage gritted his teeth and swung to face Martin. “I’ll save you some time. Her assault happened on my watch, and I take full responsibility.”

“You’re not the only one who’ll be raked over the coals.” Martin clamped a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “You look like shit.”

“I let her down. She relied on me for protection and…” Gage covered his mouth and shook his head.

“We all did. Can I remind you that it’s impossible to guard a principal while also allowing for freedom and movement—you know it’s a compromise.” Martin squeezed his arm. “Take some deep breaths.”

Gage did as instructed. His insides shook with unspent adrenaline.

“The ambassador wants the local details and Team Three on duty tonight. You can return to the hotel. If we need you, we’ll call.”

 Fuck—the dismissal felt like a reprimand and Gage gritted his teeth.

“The poor girl can’t catch a break.”

“What do you mean? Chantal?” Gage asked.

“Let’s sit.” Martin walked over to an empty corner of a long waiting room. Gage chose a seat beside his mentor and waited for the older man to speak. 

“You’re already too involved—with her.”

“Sir, listen—”

“You don’t know what she’s lived through.”

“You’re talking about the assassination—”

“And her college years. The first year of college to be exact.”

Gage frowned at the opposite wall, thinking back on what he’d read about the younger Chantal.

“Her file mentioned a confrontation,” Martin stretched out his legs. “but details weren’t included.”

“At the University of Colorado.” Gage recalled a brief mention of a mugging and assumed the thief had made off with Chantal’s purse. The word ‘assault’ conjured up dark alternatives.

“Yeah. Just a couple of years after her father had died. Chantal started her studies with a broken spirit. Still, she persevered and split her time between her mother’s recovery and her classes.”

Gage folded his arms, not liking the image of Chantal in a bad mental space—seeing her parents sliced apart by an assassin, losing a father, and piecing together a shattered existence. Gage’s traumatic childhood had sent him spiraling in a similar downward plunge. If it weren’t for the man next to him… 

“One night, after a late class, Chantal walked to her vehicle.” Martin leaned forward and clasped his hands. “A masked thug with a knife ambushed her in the lot—demanded her purse and phone.”

Gage swung his gaze back to Martin, bracing himself for what came next. 

“He stabbed Chantal.”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. The angel didn’t know what hit her. Luckily, the college football team who’d just finished practice, heard her scream. The bastard ran, but it was too late.”

 “How bad?” Gage’s fisted hands craved vengeance.

“He knifed her in the stomach, and she almost died. But she’s tough like her mother and went on to make a full recovery, catching up with her missed studies.”

Gage swore softly. “Did they catch the fucker?”

“No—and Connie left no stone unturned. She even hired a team of private investigators. The assailant was a ghost. After her father’s death and the attack, the trusting kid became an afflicted and rebellious girl.” 

“Her rebellious phase? Is that when she dated the French dude—with the sandals?”

“Correct—about four months after graduation. Chantal fell in love with the ass, and after the break-up, she turned into a tame shadow. That’s her story to tell. My point is, you shouldn’t get too close. After today, your team will likely leave Sri Lanka. It’s time to say goodbye before it gets too messy.”

“Why should it get messy?”

“I’m trying to protect you, son.” Martin stood, and Gage sensed he wasn’t getting the full story. “If the ambassador thinks you’re interested in her daughter—in the principal—she’ll nail your balls to the wall. That’s a career-ender.”

“Great talk… pops.”

“Gage, don’t—I’m trying to help.”

“Good night, Martin. Sir. I’m big and ugly enough to take care of myself.” Gage wanted to hit something. Instead, he headed for the stairs. Martin was right. They should never be at a hospital—not with an injured principal. And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her as more than a job?