The Assassin’s Billionaire Bodyguard
Chapter 42

Isabella ended the class with a call out to the ladies to give a round of appreciative applause for the volunteers. As everyone filed out, she started cleaning up the mats. Cam, Portia, and Gideon all stayed to help and as they stacked the mats, Portia was talking a mile a minute, but Cam was silent and standoffish. "That was so cool. It wasn't like when Dad's team tried to teach me to box. It was things geared just for me. I didn't get hurt once."

"Good, from now on Isabella can take over your self-defense training." Cam commented dryly.

Isabella kept her back to Cam not wanting him to see the expression on her face at his comment. He apparently didn't mind a trained assassin teaching his kid tricks. It was a start at least. "Would you Isabella?" Portia's voice held out hope

"Of course! If you want variety, every Saturday morning at nine either me, Clara or one of my friends are here to do a self-defense class. You're welcome to come any time as we all teach a bit different. I can also teach you independently if you want. I'm still learning myself."

"You're not a novice," Gideon said as he rubbed his ribs from where she'd punched him hard earlier. "Also, I consider us very much even for my involvement in spying on you."

She laughed at his comment, "agreed. We're settled up."

The last of the mats stacked she grabbed her bag and threw it on her shoulder. "Thanks again guys, I really appreciate your help. I think the ladies learned a lot this morning. Sometimes a demo is good."

She walked away and heard Portia hissing at her father, but she ignored it. If Cam were only here to pay his debt off to Clara, then so be it. She had better things to do than pine over the guy, regardless of how sexy he was. Movement at the door of the class caught her eyes and she smiled brightly

"Dylan! Looking fine!" She walked straight to the man and gave him a tight hug. "What brings you to this humble establishment on a Saturday morning."

The man's brown eyes were warm and familiar. Isabella always said they reminded her of a bear's eyes, big, brown, lethal but thoughtful. She leaned up and looked at him.

"I brought a new friend in to see Clara."

She knew what he was saying. Privacy laws prohibited him from saying too much but he often brought domestic abuse victims he encountered in his job to Clara's center for help. Sometimes they stayed, sometimes they didn't but at least he got them there. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Whoever she is, is lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have this place as a resource." He shook his head. "Thought I'd check in and see if you and Casper were free for coffee?"

She knew they were blocking the exit from the gym and pulled him into the corridor. "Yes, for sure. Let me collect him and we can go. Walking?"

"Yes, if it's not too cold for Casper."

"Nah, it's surprisingly warm considering it's November."

"Great, I'll meet you outside."

"Isabella, aren't you coming with us for lunch?" Portia called out, eying Dylan's departing back.

She looked at the younger woman with a shake of her head. "No, I'm not going with you for lunch. I'm having coffee with my friend." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the daycare, "I've got to go pick up Casper. Talk later," she waved at Portia and then made a quick escape to collect her dog.

As she stepped into the November air, she shivered a bit grateful it wasn't as cold as other years had been but still pulled her coat tighter around her. She grimaced when she saw Cam, Gideon and Portia standing next to Dylan's car and Portia was chatting his ear off.

Immediately Casper was tugging on his lead trying to reach Gideon and Isabella laughed as he squatted down and accepted the exuberant kisses of the tiny dog. "I swear you're trying to steal my dog."

"Only a few more kendo sparring sessions and a misguided sword," Gideon teased, his raspy voice happy as he hugged the dog tightly, "and he's all mine."

"That's dark," Dylan said with a twist of his lips.

"Gideon gets me," Isabella winked at him. "Dylan, these are friends of mine, Portia, Gideon and Cam." She jerked her thumb at Dylan, "remember when I told you a friend had taught me how to disassemble a gun? Dylan was my instructor." "How does it even come up in conversation?" Dylan eyed her curiously, "or do I want to know?"

"You don't want to know." Isabella noted Cam still hadn't said a word. She faced Dylan, ignoring the trio behind her. "We should get a move on before your phone starts ringing, and you get called in."

"Why would you get called in? You're a cop." Portia demanded

"Detective," he corrected with no hint of arrogance, "and I work homicide."

"Then why are you here? Did someone die?"

"Because my mom, sister and I were guests of this center when I was a kid. The guys in my precinct know to ask me to help when a domestic violence has occurred, and I do my best to convince a victim to come here and get the help they provided my mom." Dylan spoke seriously.

"Oh," Portia whispered suddenly embarrassed at her words. "I'm sorry, I was being rude."

"No apologies necessary," Dylan said with a shrug, "you ready Bella?"

"Bella?" Portia made a face, "pretty familiar."

"Oh my god, Portia," Isabella faced her, "quit it. I know what you're doing so stop. Dylan is a friend. He's been my friend a long time and just because I dated your dad doesn't give you the right to question my activities."

"Dated?" Cam suddenly spoke, "didn't realize it was a past tense thing." He stood upright now, folding his arms in the defensive pose Isabella had come to know all to well.

Dylan held his hand up against Isabella's shoulder as she whirled to face him, "woah, enough. Let's go. You are obviously itching for a fight and doing it in front of the women's center is the worst place to do it. You and I need to chat so let's go." "Fine," she cast an angry glance over her shoulder as she picked Casper up and held him to her chest.

Dylan chuckled, "she's a pain in the a*s."

"You have no idea. I like her though. She's feisty."

"She's the kind of woman who could give you a migraine and an erection at the same time," Dylan commented dryly.

"I wouldn't know about the latter," she hooked her free arm through his and they walked to the coffee shop on the corner.

Two hours later, Isabella was making her way from the subway to her house and noted the Porsche parked outside her house. She filled her lungs with the crisp November air and exhaled a plume of steam into the space surrounding her head as she approached the front entrance.

"How was your date?" Cam called out as she ignored him and took the steps to the front entrance.

She didn't answer as she pulled her key out and unlocked her door.

His voice spoke from right behind her, "so we dated huh?"

"What do you want from me Cam?" She turned and faced him. "You left here in the early hours yesterday morning and I haven't heard a thing from you and then you show up today and tell me the only reason you are there is to pay a debt. It's not exactly instilling confidence for me there is anything more."

"You went on a date!"

"I had coffee with an old friend to talk about a project he wants me to help him with. We have been missing each other for weeks and couldn't get it set up. We were supposed to meet on a Sunday night a few weeks back, but I blew him off to have dinner at Helena's. He was happy for me."

"What kind of project."

"The kind where I collaborate with him in reviewing some statistical information for a program he's spearheading on domestic violence. He needs an unbiased analysis of the difference a center like Clara's makes in a high-risk community. How does the availability of resources, education, safety and medical services impact the rate of violence in a community?"

He pushed his fingers into his hair and Isabella noted it was getting longer and a curl fell toward his forehead. Her hands itched to push it back and she clenched her fists reactively.

She licked her lips subconsciously and then grimaced, "I'm cold, Casper is colder and I'm going in." She turned and pushed the door open and walked inside the house. She knew he was following her, and she was torn between telling him to leave and flinging herself into his arms.

Isabella was emotionally raw, and she knew it. It had been a hard week to get through and she had done it, but she was worn from it. She kicked her shoes onto the mat and bent down and unclipped Casper's harness. He stayed close to her heels, signaling her mood and her need to rest. She felt Cam's presence in the small entryway, and she kept her back to him.

The masculine scent of his filled her senses as he stood immediately behind her as she stood with her eyes closed. She stepped away from the overwhelming presence of him and moved into the living room and pulled her Abuela's throw off the sofa and flung herself into the armchair and pulled the blanket over her. Casper jumped up and curled under the blanket on her lap.

"Are you ill?"

"No, why do you ask?"

He looked around the living room. "There's a pizza box, a beer bottle on the table and a pillow from the bed on the sofa. This is far messier than I ever would have thought."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Cam, I'm exhausted. I think I've slept a total of five hours since Thursday morning and I'm supposed to be having dinner with my parents tonight. I would like to get a few hours sleep before I do. I know you feel you have all kinds of things you want to say or not say or, whatever this is," she waved between them without opening her eyes, "but I'm just too god damn tired." "Then you should go to bed."

"I can't," she made a face. "I tried already. Can't sleep there."

"Isabella, I'm struggling with this."

"Really? I hadn't guessed."

"Portia said you covered her face so she wouldn't see anything when you were getting her out of the guy's apartment. What were you protecting her from?"

"A gutted man with his d**k shot off. A room where he had tied another woman up in the bed where he'd sexually assaulted her so much there was blood and feces everywhere. He also marked her like a dog, pissing on her. Her whole body was covered in it. We got her out as soon as we got there. I don't think Portia knew she was there."

"She didn't mention it."

"Good. The woman was so savagely beaten we had to run fingerprints to identify her." She decided to give him all the details. "There was a bad odor in the apartment and our cleanup crew found he'd obviously abused the woman in every room of the house. He'd had her there about a month."

"Jesus Christ."

She opened her eyes then and looked at him, "Clara told me it's harder to rescue one of your own because it takes the anonymity from it."

"And rescue? It's what you call what you do?" his comment was clearly designed to start an argument as he sneered at her.

Isabella took a deep breath and prepared herself to do battle with the very real possibility she could lose the first man she'd ever genuinely loved in the fallout of what was to come. If Artemis and Clara were correct, he just needed time to come to grips with her activities and he would be accepting, and they could move forward. If they were wrong, she was about to spill the activities of a multi-billion-dollar illegal empire. Either way, everything she held dear was at stake and she was terrified.