Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes Book 1) Read Online Free

on my testimony. It all happened when they were between
accountants and I was trying to eke my way through their financials
and try to keep their bills paid and their business afloat. I truly
had no damn clue what I was doing, but I had tried nonetheless. I’m
a paralegal, not an accountant. I could barely balance my own
checkbook, but the selfish bastards obviously hadn’t cared about
that. They just used me to get a job done ‘til they could hire
another. They should have called a temp agency instead of relying
on my inexperience. But maybe that had been done on purpose. Deep
loathing and resentment was beginning to take root in my gut. Anger
was starting to stew inside me at their selfishness.
    The hissing and smoke of boiling water
caught my attention and I threw the pasta into it, stirring it a
little as I went back to my musings. Again chewing my nail, I
wondered what was gonna happen once this agent arrived to “protect”
me. Was he going to stay here? Sleep on the couch? I have two rooms
but had yet to furnish the second one. It was nothing but four
walls, a closet, and a few of my boxes. Maybe he was going to take
me somewhere? How long would I be on the run? What if I had to run
forever? What if I had to change my name, move to a different
state, say goodbye to my family and friends and become someone else
forever?
    The smell of something burning caught
my attention. The water had completely boiled out of my pasta and
now it was scorching the bottom of the pan. I turned off the burner
and sank to my ass on the floor of the kitchen and burst into
tears, cradling my face in my hands. I was in shambles, crying over
ruined pasta.
    No, I was crying over my ruined
life.
     

     
    I woke the next day the same I’d had
the past four days. Full of despair and wondering what the point
was of getting out of bed. But I knew I had to. I was 27 years old,
and my life was far from being over. I had to fight for what was
left of it. So I slogged out of bed, showered, and forced some
instant oatmeal down my throat. I didn’t, however, manage to bother
fixing my hair or putting on any makeup. I mean, what’s the point
of looking pretty in prison? Because really, that’s where I was –
in prison. Imprisoned in my own home. It felt like Hell. Yes,
that’s where I was. I was in Hell.
    As I flipped on the TV to stare
mindlessly at daytime television, my cell phone chirped. I
reluctantly went over and checked it. The FBI had made me turn off
my data (okay, they had called my service provider and made them
disable it) but I could still get texts and calls. I had a text
from “Jack-N-Jill” – the not-so-cute name they had made me add to
my phone’s address book to indicate that the FBI was texting or
calling.
    The text read: He’ll come calling around 4.
    I rolled my eyes. Cryptic
much?
    My reply: Who?
    The response was
immediate: Your knight in shining
armor.
    I laughed at that. At least whoever
was texting me had a sense of humor. And here I didn’t think the
FBI had one.
    So my agent was on his way. I glanced
at the clock on the phone. It was 9 a.m. Well yippee, I get to mope
around my condo for the next 7 hours and hope the guy sent to
babysit me arrived on time and was a decent person.
    Deep down, though, I had a feeling I
was in for a rude awakening, and the next 11 days until the trial
was going to very much suck.

Chapter 5
    Duke
     
    The damn GPS sent me down the wrong
road again. What the fuck is wrong with this thing? I pulled the
cord from the cigarette lighter and chucked the entire device into
the floorboard of the passenger seat. Spying a gas station up
ahead, I decided to put away my man card for the first time ever
and just ask for some damn directions.
    Slamming the car door and fumbling
with the little key fob lock thing, I managed to find the lock
button. The government had given me a tiny little black Nissan 370Z
sports car. The thing had speed and style, I’ll give it that, but
I’m 6-foot-3 and