The Protectors Series Bundle - By Nana Malone Page 0,66
bag and quickly rifled through it. Her small hand closed around something, and she closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath. Pulling out her hand, she stared at the locket, twirling it between her fingers. “How—why would you do this for me?”
“Because when I was your age, I needed someone’s help, and I used to lie awake wishing there’d be someone to come and save me.”
Riley tipped her chin up. “I’ll pay you back. Every penny, I swear.”
Symone shifted uncomfortably on her feet for several moments. “The way you pay me back is you get on that bus. I’ve got a friend who’s going to meet you in Atlanta and take you to a place for teenagers in trouble. They have GED programs and work assistance. They’ll even help you go to college, if that’s what you want. All you have to do is stay there and get off the street. That’s payment enough for me.”
“And if I don’t go?”
“That’s your choice. But if you don’t take the help I’m offering, I don’t know if anyone else will come along and try to help you. The opportunity is yours for the taking.”
“Can’t I come with you?”
Symone silently cursed at the tears stinging her eyelids. “Not right now. Those assholes back there and the other trouble I mentioned are all coming for me. In case it escaped you, the object of the game is to keep you safe. But I promise I’ll check on you at least once a month. You don’t hear from me, I means the world ended or zombies got me.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “Shit, are there seriously zombies? Like in Resident Evil or some shit?”
“Again with the way too many comic books and gory movies. No such things as zombies.” Though she wouldn’t put it past Peter to try and go there.
“Riley ducked her head. “I—” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for this. What time does that bus leave?”
Symone let out a breath in relief. “It leaves in thirty minutes.”
“Then I guess we better haul ass. Seems like I’m headed to Atlanta.”
Chapter Six
Garrett floated in and out of consciousness. And given the initial shock and charge of electricity from Symone, he should have felt like shit. When she grabbed his wrist, he hadn’t been prepared for the jolt of electricity that charged up his arm. Nor had he been prepared for his body’s nerve endings to warn him of impending death. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for the feeling of severe bliss that followed. Before she had let go, a shudder of ecstasy had traveled up from his toes, spreading and infusing his cells.
His heart hadn’t stopped, but rather slowed to a dangerous level. He had actually felt his whole body slowing down, each heartbeat booming in his ears.
He didn’t know how long he lay prone by the dumpster, but he remembered everything about how he got in that position and the woman who had put him there. He recalled the softness of her hand and the way the moonlight lit her café au lait skin. The steel in her eyes when he told her she’d be coming with him. Not once had she given any indication that she’d given up. The concern in her eyes when she leaned over him, the grim determination when she thought he was dead.
There were a slew of other things he knew about her but couldn’t explain. Almost like when she touched him, she’d transferred something. Her fear had singed his nerve endings. But the fear wasn’t for her life. From the way she’d defiantly fought him, he’d seen her strength and determination. He knew she didn’t want to kill him. That girl was no terrorist.
If he’d had any doubts that Reaper and Rex had lied to him, they were gone now. Garrett would find out why Reaper wanted Symone so badly. Clearly she was an enhanced soldier like himself. But she’d be the first female, as far as he was aware.
Grimacing, he rolled on the pavement so he was face down. The mere act took more effort than he anticipated. Bringing his hands to shoulder width, he pushed himself up, dragging his feet under his body to support a crouch. He didn’t know who Symone Jackson was, but whoever she was, she packed a hell of a punch. She was a hell of a weapon.
Garrett frowned as something niggled at his memory. When he’d put the cuffs on, she’d had gloves on one hand. But he focused in on