Page 1 of The Protection Agreement

Chapter one

Lexi

“Wake up, wake up,” Amrit whisper-shouts, shaking me roughly. “Someone is here.”

My eyes fly open, and I’m immediately alert. The reality of my situation crashes back in.

“I need you to grab the bag and run. Don’t look back, and don’t stop until you arrive at the spot. Just keep going,” he says rapidly as he tosses one of my hoodies at me and places my shoes in front of me. I pull the hoodie over my head while he shoves each of my foot into my boots, lacing them tight. I sleep in leggings and a T-shirt because of moments like this. I get up from the bed and grab the bag.

“What about you?” I ask, trying so hard not to show fear. I’m completely dressed and ready to leave. I want him to come with me, even though I know that’s not the plan.

“I’ll be right behind. You need to leave now so I can buy you time. Get going,” he commands, and I know better than to defy him in this moment. I watch him holster guns and tuck knives; he’s ready for combat. Moments like this are something I watch on TV, not live through.

“Promise me you will meet me at the spot,” I plead.

“I promise to meet you, but don’t wait for me. Keep moving until you get to Jonah and you are safe.” His voice is stern, reminding me not to deviate from the practiced plan. Before he woke me, I’m sure he had already pulled the emergency alert, so Jonah is aware of what’s happening.

I pull him into a quick hug and grab the bag tight. He opens the secret tunnel. I step in, and he quickly shuts the door. I hear him move several items to hide the entrance. We’ve come through here several times, hoping the day would never come. Now I have to keep moving alone and pray I make it to safety.

Amrit will join me. He promised. I keep moving as instructed and trained, holding my backpack tight. It’s my lifeline. My mind drifts, wondering when this nightmare will end.

Chapter two

Bruce

My phone flashes with the name Jonah. I turn away and hug my pillow. I shouldn’t have sent that woman away. She was annoying, always yapping, always wanting to spoon but, in this moment, she really did make the best pillow. And a much better distraction than the guy calling me. My phone beeps with a text and I see his name again, Jonah. Why the hell is this motherfucker calling me at this hour of the day? We are not friends. It’s something we and our fathers have all established as a known fact. The Lloyd and Powells are enemies and we avoid each other like plagues; we never play at the same table unless we are competing against each other. Even then, it's must be unavoidable.

Another beep, now I’m irritated. Taking the phone, I read the text message.

Jonah: I know you are seeing my messages, I won’t stop, you might as well answer and we can get this over with.

I grunt, and I know this motherfucker won’t stop, just as he said. Sitting up in bed, another beep on my phone and my security system flashing.

This fucker better not be at my door. It just might be his last day alive. I press my security button, and he’s right there, with his hands and shirt already pulled up.

He does a slow three sixty so I can see he’s not armed. I scoff; I still do not trust him. The fact he’s at my home has me on edge. My defense walls are stacking up fast. I don’t let him in. He pushes the button again. I get up and pull my pants on with a T-shirt. Grabbing my gun and a few knives, I alert Ice, my right-hand man, to meet me downstairs. He lives in the unit right below mine. No way is Jonah coming into my home. I open the door and head down to the lobby. I see him; he hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw him in passing. He turns around to show me he’s not carrying any weapons. Like I would stupidly let my guard down. I scoff again.

“Sit,” I say to him. He obliges with a smirk on his face; this motherfucker must have a death wish, or he may have lost his fucking mind. I sit when I see Ice standing behind him.

“What the fuck do you want?” I gruffly ask. It’s pointless pretending that his presence is welcomed.

“I need your help,” he states. My response is a scoff. “You are the only person who can help me. Given our family’s dislike for each other, it makes you the best person.” His word “dislike” is an understatement of our families’ true feelings. I stare at him, unmoved by his statement. I don’t give a fuck about him.

“Why would I help you?” I ask with an intense stare, knowing how his father contributed to my father’s downfall and pain for years.

“Because someone is trying to kill a woman that’s very important to me, and I can’t focus on finding out who wants her dead and I need to protect her. And I can’t do both, simultaneously” he explains, like it should move me.

“So, you can’t walk and chew gum.” I scoff and relax in my chair. “Just how is it my business that you can’t keep your woman safe?”

“She’s innocent and they’ve attempted to kidnap her, and tried thrice to kill her. It’s just luck that she’s still alive, I need to figure out who wants her dead, and until I can do that, I have to place her somewhere no one will look for her and that’s with you. Everyone knows about our family’s dislike for each other, so no one would look for her at your place. They wouldn’t think I would ever bring her to you, but I’m not too proud to beg you when it comes to her,” he explains. I glance past him, a quick scan of our surroundings, wondering if I've somehow landed in an alternate reality where entitled Jonah Lloyd would solicit my help, or if this was merely a dream. However, the harsh light of day confirms I'm awake, and I should reject him, yet I utter:

“Go on, beg then,” I nudge, sitting back.

“I beg; it means you will protect her with everything you’ve got,” he challenges.

“Maybe.” I shrug and see the anger brewing in him, but he holds it in. I want him to unleash that anger so I can kick his ass out.

“She’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to die because she’s with me,” he pleads. Fuck me, this woman must mean a lot to him. That’s something you don’t see every day: Jonah fucking Lloyd willing to beg me to protect his woman. Guess as the saying goes, there’s a first time for everything, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t shockingly wild to me.