Someone To Watch Over Her 1

Credit to whom due: Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. Sbrooks103x also gives me a prepost read. My editors are Girlinthemoon, Hal, and Pixel the Cat. Thanks for everything you do. This is a long story. There is very little sex until chapter three. If that doesn't sound like your thing, this would be a good time to click the back button. For those who continue, I hope you enjoy the story, Randi.

*****

I'd been keeping an eye on Fallon since her mother was killed nine years before. She wasn't aware that I was watching her. I'm sure she had heard stories about her father from Seaver, but I was never allowed to see her. When her mother found out that I sold guns instead of auto parts, that was the end of my "Daddy" role. I never really blamed Seaver for that. I should have told her the day we met.

She was just mad enough to call the ATF, and I had to get out of the country. I lived in Costa Rica for five years and I stayed off the radar. I was old news and no one was looking for a guy with a different identity when I slipped back across the border. I called Seaver a dozen times and asked to see her, but she always threatened to have me arrested and I had to be content with just seeing Fallon now and then. I went to school plays and concerts where it would be dark, and I watched her cheer at football games and play drums in the marching band. When her mother was hit by a cement truck, she moved in with her mother's sister and she seemed happy there, so I didn't interfere.

I was very proud of her when she made it into Dartmouth, and when she graduated from Yale law school; I was at her graduation. She was heavily recruited by dozens of top law firms, but for some reason she wasn't into corporate law. She wanted to be a federal prosecutor. Three years of that and she switched teams and became a defense attorney. She seemed to have gained a disgust for the Feds, and she took mostly cases where the civil rights of her clients had been violated by the cops.

Law enforcement hated her, but she never backed down from anyone. I was prouder than I'd ever been. She grew up beautiful. She had her mother's black glossy mane of hair, huge, tilted up blue eyes and a body that Playmates would have coveted. I noticed that she didn't go on many dates. She didn't drink or party much, either. She was dedicated to the job, and that was the end of it.

I started interfering some in her cases. I destroyed one FBI agent's career when he threatened her, making it plain to him that his destroyer knew where to find his family if he ever bothered her again. I mailed her anonymous tips and found some people for whom she was looking. I persuaded them to give her a call. She was working a RICO wiretapping case when she met me for the first time. As I said, I was keeping an eye on her. I knew these were some pretty nasty boys she was up against. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms views themselves as above the law. I bumped up against them all the time. If they weren't so stupid and ham-handed, they'd probably have caught me. The day I found out I was going to die, they caught Fallon. There was no way they were going to win their case, so they indulged in a little old-fashioned corruption and hired thugs. I was on my way to lunch after leaving the doctor's office. There's a medical name for it. It amounts to brain cancer. They held out no hope. The tumor was slow growing, but persistent. There was the possibility that they could slow its growth by some months, but the costs to my quality of life weren't worth it to me. They had never seen this type of tumor taken out that didn't recur. They offered to do the surgery, but the chance that this would speed the progress of the tumor by months made that not worth it, either. I had a year before the process began to cause debilitating symptoms. That wasn't pleasant news, but such is life. My security chief called and told me they had taken Fallon. He gave me the address and I decided that it was time for Fallon Blake to meet Canton Thomas. I don't know if the BATF intended to rough her up a little to scare her off, or they intended to have her killed, but things went off the rails.

When I killed the two guards outside and got into the old factory where they had her, she was bleeding from her forehead and one corner of her mouth. Three of them had her spread out on a counter and she was down to just her panties. She was putting up quite a fight, but she was losing. My 9mm was silenced and there were three loud spits. They dropped, one on top of her, and she kept fighting for a minute before she realized that the man on top of her was just dead weight.

She pushed him off and saw me standing there. One of them was still moving and I double-tapped him. She slid off the counter and came running to me. She threw her arms around me and sobbed into my chest.

I held her for a minute and patted her. I took off my jacket and hung it over her shoulders. She realized she didn't have anything on and went red all over. She pulled the jacket around her and a pair of amazing breasts disappeared.

"I don't know who you are, and thanks seems inadequate, but thanks," she said.

Her voice was low and husky. I was shaken listening to her talk. My baby was all grown up and she was talking to me.

"Do you think any of your clothes can be salvaged?" I asked her.

"They ripped them up. I might drape them around me but they're torn and dirty. The buttons are gone, too. They broke the zipper of my skirt."

"That's okay, you can keep the jacket. It looks better on you anyway. Are your shoes here?"

"They're around somewhere. Help me look."

She buttoned the black suit jacket. It was way too big for her, but it did cover her up. It came to the top of her thighs and those amazing brown legs were bare. We found her black flats and she was as modest as she was going to get.

"Who are you?" she asked. "How did you know I was here? Who are these people?

"Which one do you want me to answer first?"

She hesitated for a minute. "Who are you?"

I gave her the name I use. "I'm Canton Thomas, and you're Fallon Blake."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"That's another question."

"I know, I ask a lot of questions."

"It's the only way to learn." I told her. "I know a lot about you."

"How, I've never met you before."

"It's my job to know things. I don't want to creep you out, Miss Blake, but I keep an eye on you. That answers your second question."

I could tell she thought I was weird. She looked at the three dead thugs and relaxed a little. "I guess it's a good thing you do. You have to explain all this to me."

"Okay, but I think we should leave. We should get you some clothes, and then if you want me to, I'll explain."

"Should we call the cops?" she asked.

"They sent these guys. I'd just as soon not answer a bunch of awkward questions. The BATF hired them. That's the answer to your third question."

"I see," she said. "Do you have a car?"

"Yes, I'll take you home."

"Do you know where I live?"

"I know nearly everything about you."

"That is sort of creepy, Canton."

"I know, but I can explain." I offered her my arm and she leaned on me as we walked down the stairs and outside to the Navigator.

I opened the back and sat her down on the tailgate while I got out the first aid kit. She winced a little when I cleaned her up with alcohol swabs. She just had an abrasion on her forehead and a small cut in the corner of her mouth. I brushed that mane of hair back and put a little disinfectant on her. I put away the kit, and she hopped down and got in.

"You're very gentle, Canton, and you have good taste in cars," she said. "Clothes, too," She admired the jacket. "Take me home."

We drove to her apartment and she chattered the whole way. I loved listening to that husky little voice. She told me all about her case and it sounded as if her client was going to walk. I knew about it, and I knew her client was guilty. I mentioned that to her and she got a little fierce.

"I don't care if he is. His civil rights don't depend on whether he's guilty or not. He's a human, and because he is, he has rights. You don't stop being human because you're guilty."

"Yes, I know. I agree, but I just thought you should know he sells guns to a South American Cartel."

"How do you know that, Canton?"

"It's my job to know things, especially about people who sell guns."

She threw back her head and laughed. It was delightful. "I know; that's what you told me. I like you, Canton. Well, you did save me from being raped and killed back there. I should like you."

"I'm very likable," I assured her.

She laughed again and peeked up at me from under those impossibly long lashes. "We'll see," she said. "You do make a good first impression."

"Always make a stylish entrance; that's my motto," I told her.

We pulled up in front of her place and I hurried around to open her door. "You're a gentleman, too," she said.

"I just wanted another look at your panties," I said. "It was very disappointing that you kept the jacket pulled down."

She laughed for a long time, and then she gave me a little flash. "There, are you happy?"

"Ecstatic," I assured her. "Miss Blake, I have somewhere to be. Do you think it would be possible for me to make that explanation another time?"

She looked disappointed. "I suppose. I won't be able to sleep tonight, though. I've got to hear this. I'm not going in to work tomorrow. I think an attempted rape and murder are excuse enough to stay home. Will you let me make you dinner tomorrow evening?"

"Do you cook?" I asked.

She giggled. "Not well, but I get by. How is it that you don't know that?"

"Actually, I do. I was just reminding you. I don't think I deserve to be punished for rescuing you. Why don't you let me cook? I do cook well."

"What will you cook? Do I have the stuff?"

"I doubt it. I'll bring it. You get a good bottle of red wine and I'll take care of everything else."

"I don't know how to get good wine. I don't drink enough to know."

"Well, it's easy. You pay a lot for it. The trick is finding a good one without paying a lot. If it costs more than $25 a bottle, it's likely good. I'll give you a couple of names if you want."

"No, I'll try it myself. I won't learn without doing it."

"Smart girl," I told her.

I watched her climb the steps. She turned around at the door and looked back down at me. She ran back down and threw her arms around me. She laid her cheek against my chest.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she said.

"You're welcome," I told her. "Helping damsels in distress is high on my list of things to do."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, then she climbed the steps again. She waved and went inside.

*****

I was trying to figure out what I was going to tell her, all day. "Luke, I am your father," didn't seem right. I didn't want to lie to her, either. I settled on a plan and went grocery shopping. I was going to do this up right. I was cooking for my daughter for the first time. I was going to sit in her house and talk to her for the first time. My heart pounded in my chest all day, just thinking about it.

I got there at six, and she was just getting home. She let me in, carried a bag into the kitchen and told me she was going to jump in the shower. I made myself at home, chopped my herbs up and I was ready to cook. She had a nice kitchen. There was a bar with a six-burner gas range top in it, and she had two ovens. That was good, and she had nice pans, too. Her knives could do with a good sharpening, but maybe another time.

She came in dressed in black slacks and a creamy sweater. Her hair was still damp and she looked adorable. I adored her, for sure. I poured her a glass of the good Chardonnay I had brought, and she watched me prepare our meal.

"This is going to be fun," she said.

We started with roasted carrots and Brussels sprouts. I made kasha ravioli, and we had flank steak, a pastrami knish and chopped liver. She didn't care much for the liver, but I liked it. For dessert, we had a strudel, bacon and crème, which she loved. She had gotten a good wine, and it went well with the meal.

"I would have never thought to put bacon in a dessert," she told me. "You are a good cook, Canton. I thought you were just bragging. Are you a chef?"

I laughed. "No, I wouldn't like doing this every day. I just cook like this for my rescued damsels in distress."

"Well, if I could get food like this I'd weigh 200 pounds in a month," she said. "Remind me to be rescued more often. I'm stuffed. Pour me another glass of that white wine and let's find more comfortable chairs."

We went in to her living room and sat on the sofa, sipping our wine. She curled up her legs and leaned into me, putting my arm around her shoulders. She looked up at me, those huge blue eyes liquid pools.

"Canton, I'm ready for that explanation now."

"Okay, brace yourself, Miss Blake."

"Stop it," she said. "You saved my life, saved me from being raped and cooked the best meal I've ever had. I think we've moved past the 'Miss Blake' routine. My name is Fallon."

"Okay, Fallon it is. You want to know why I keep an eye on you. I'll tell you. I'm doing it because of your father."

She stiffened up when she heard that. I could tell she didn't like the idea. "He sent you? Why? He never gave a damn about me before, why would he start now?"

"You're wrong about that, Fallon. He cares very much about you. I've been keeping an eye on you for years. It's hard to explain. He knows how much he's botched it. He regrets not being part of your life very much. He trusts me to look after you."

"Why would you do that? I'm nothing to you."

"You're mistaken. I've watched you grow up through the years and you've become something special to me. You're my pet project. I help you with your cases when I can, I try to make sure you're safe, I give you tips when I can and I keep up with your life."

"That's sort of creepy, Canton. I'm grateful for the tips. I didn't know who my mysterious tipster was. I'm not sure I like you watching me, though, especially for my father. I've never seen him, you know. I think he's a criminal. Mom always said so."

"What was it you told me about criminals and rights?"

She laughed. "I should have known that would come back to bite me."

"Just because he's a criminal doesn't mean he doesn't care about his daughter," I told her. "Your mother never wanted him to be around you. He respected what she wanted. He couldn't be part of your life, but he still wanted you taken care of. That's my job now. I'm not going to try to hide it, Fallon. I'm a criminal, too. I supply guns to people fighting for freedom all around the world. I don't sell to governments or criminal organizations, but I sell guns to rebels."

"Is that what my father does?"

"Sometimes he does. He's more of an information broker."

"He steals secrets?"

"No, he doesn't do it himself, but he buys and sells secrets."

"I see. What do you do when you're keeping an eye on me?"

"Well, I keep track of where you are. I don't have hidden cameras or anything like that. I keep track of that by tracking your cell phone. It has a GPS in it, and with the right software I can track it. You should really turn that off. I'm friendly, but other people aren't. I don't peep at you. I try not to invade your privacy. I don't listen to your phone calls or read your e-mails. I keep track of your cases through your firm. I investigate the people you're defending and the people that are prosecuting them. I have a large network of people who I use to get the information I need. I'll show you the whole operation. If there's anything you don't like, I'll stop."

She relaxed and snuggled up against me again. "I do feel safe knowing you're out there. This feels right to me. Are you certain we've never met before? You seem familiar."

This was going down the wrong track. I needed a diversion so I told her about the BATF hiring the men that attacked her.

"Fallon," I told her, "I think you need a driver. I don't feel right about you mixing it up with these alphabet agencies. They play rough. I have a man who needs a job. Why don't you let me give him one? He's also an excellent bodyguard."

"I can't afford that. Maybe someday I can, but not right now."

"He'll work for me. I'll pay his salary."

"Why would you do that?" she asked.

"You've very important to me," I told her.

"Why? What is your relationship with my father?"

"I've known him longer than you've been alive. He's very important to me, too."

She thought about that for a minute. "What do you do when you're not being my guardian angel?"

I didn't know how much to tell her. I didn't want her to freak out, but I thought I should be as honest as possible.

"I make deals. If there's a group in South America that wants weapons, I arrange for them to meet the people who sell weapons. If they need to know how to build an offshore oil platform, I find them the people who know how to do that. If they want to know what the BATF is doing in El Paso, Texas, I find out and charge them for the information."

"So you're a criminal? Jesus, Canton; why do you do that?"

I was stumped. I didn't know quite how to answer that. "Most of the things I do aren't criminal. The things that I do that are criminal are things that are going to be done anyway. The US government does all those things. They take cocaine from Panama, sell it in Los Angeles and use the money to buy weapons from Iran to supply their buddies in some banana republic. I do the same thing except I won't touch drugs. Well, that's not strictly true. I make deals for pharmaceuticals. If they need antibiotics in Africa and they have them in Canada, I facilitate that."

"I see," she was quiet for a minute. My heart was in my throat. I was desperately afraid that she would hate me. She hadn't moved and my arm was still around her. She looked up at me and I drowned in the pools of those blue eyes. My heart ached.

"Canton, if you ever need an attorney, I want to represent you."

I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Fallon; I was worried that you were going to hate me."

She laughed. "You saved my life and my body. How could I possibly hate you? I don't like what you do, but you may not like what I do. You saved me without any question and I'm going to accept you the same way. Am I going to see you again?"

"Do you want to? I think I should keep my distance. I work best in the shadows."

"Then I'll see you in the shadows. I like you, Canton. I think I want you to be part of my life. I never knew my father. I have a few memories, but I think I've needed a father. It's hard to miss what you never had, but I like sitting here with you. I feel like nothing can harm me. You make me feel safe, but I know you're a killer. You killed those three men back there. How can you do that and then be so gentle with me?"

"They were hurting you, Fallon. I don't like just killing people, but if that's what it takes to protect the people I love, I'll shoot and never look back."

"That's interesting," she said. "Do you realize that you just told me that you love me? How can that be? We've just met."

"I didn't mean to say that."

"So you don't love me?"

"I never said that either. You've just met me, but I've know you all your life. I watched you grow up and become a fascinating and beautiful young lady. I know what you are and what kind of heart you have."

"I'm going to love you, too," she said. "You saved my life. I can't get over that. You killed those men for me. I owe you more than I'll ever be able to repay."

"You don't owe me anything. Anyone would have done the same thing if they had the opportunity."

"'Anyone' didn't. You did. You made that opportunity happen. Will you let me take you to dinner?"