Magnetic Love: A Protector Romance (A Surviving Love Novel Book 3)

by Brinda Berry

  “Okay then.” I stand and grab Diesel’s walking leash. “I need to get out of here for a little while.”

  “Not without me.” Toby lifts his shirt and reveals a holster almost at his back. He retrieves the gun from the table and casually holsters it before grinning at me. “Ready.”

  “I’ve never had such a suffocating boyfriend in my life. Never. You’re pushing it.”

  “Don’t threaten me or I won’t let you break up when this is over.” He chuckles while grabbing his knit cap and pulling it on.

  “And then who’d be punished? You’d be stuck with me.”

  “If only...” he says and winks. “It’s going to break my heart when you go back to Dylan.”

  I don’t reply to his statement, but I think he’s wrong. I can’t get Dylan’s words to my sister out of my head. Like a hated song that sticks with me, a lyric burned on my brain, a melody looping on repeat.

  People don’t realize what they had until it’s too late.

  We head outdoors for a brisk walk. Toby stays close to me on the sidewalk. Occasionally, he glances over and smiles at something I’ve said. And I pretend to smile back.

  I wake in the middle of the night, startled until I remember staying overnight at Toby’s. He’s given me his bed, saying he could never allow me to take the sofa. His blanket is scratchy and thick. His pillows are too soft and they smell like him.

  Toby’s scent is what gets to me the most. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong, but there’s something about smelling him that makes me feel guilty. It’s a great scent, but it’s not Dylan’s.

  Without making a sound, I push my legs over the edge of the bed and stand. My bare feet are soundless on the wood floor. The bedroom door is cracked and unable to close due to the swollen doorjambs of the old house. Toby’s voice carries in a low rumble into the hallway. I hope that it’s someone calling to say I’m on the prison’s approved list.

  “I’m sure she’s not,” Toby says. “She’s a straight shooter. I really don’t think Dylan’s involved.” Silence. “Or his buddy. No. I’d bet on it.”

  I try to step forward, but my limbs won’t obey.

  Toby laughs. “You’re a real jackass. You know it? But seriously, she’s nice. If her pops won’t put her on the list, we have to find another way. I’m not letting her get hurt.”

  My knees wobble and I put my hands against the walls. I flip on a light so he’ll know I’m up. Diesel runs into the hallway and nuzzles my side.

  “Hey, big boy.” I pat the top of Diesel’s head. “Want to sleep with me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Toby says, walking around the corner and grinning. “Couldn’t sleep?” He eyes me in the T-shirt he’s lent me for the night.

  “Need a drink of water.” I move past him to the kitchen. If I’d ever hung around at his house for more than a half hour, I would’ve known that he hasn’t lived here long. The cabinet is virtually bare except for a stack of plastic cups.

  “Just water? I have soda, too.” Toby opens the refrigerator door.

  “No. Water’s fine.” I pause and turn to fill a glass from the tap. “I heard you talking on the phone.”

  Toby shuts the fridge and returns to his chair at the kitchen table. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Why were you talking about Dylan?”

  He runs a hand over his mouth. “How much did you hear?”

  “I don’t know. I heard his name. Why were you talking to someone about Dylan?”

  Toby pulls out the chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

  “I can listen standing.”

  “You’re getting upset over nothing. I was telling my partner that I don’t think Dylan or Jordy is involved with Rafa.”

  “Why in the world would you think that? That’s stupid.” I pace across the living room and stand for several minutes with my back to Toby.

  “Jordy’s not some ordinary computer geek. He’s a hacker. And hackers tend to get involved in things they shouldn’t. He and Dylan are friends. It only makes sense that Dylan would get accused by association.”

  I swing back to glare at Toby. “Jordy’s a good guy. He would never do anything like what you’re talking about. He’s the most honest person I know.”

  “Do you know about Jordy and your father?”

  “Jordy doesn’t know my dad,” I say in a small voice.

  Toby shakes his head gently. “He does. There’s a reason he’s kept it from you. They haven’t been honest. I’m telling you confidential info that could get me fired. I shouldn’t have told you that much. But I can’t have you bailing on me because you don’t trust me. I’ve lied to you too much already, and I need your total trust from here on. Because things may happen fast, and I can’t risk you doubting me.”

  Toby’s obviously trying to come clean. I glance at the clock. It’s eleven at night and Dylan is probably asleep. Jordy on the other hand will be awake.

  In the bedroom, I pick up my cell and study the display. Two missed calls from Gabby and one from Dylan. On impulse, I return the call to Dylan. He’s the only one I can talk to about Jordy. He’ll be shocked that Jordy kept something so important from us.

  “Emerson,” Dylan answers on the second ring. He says my name in one long sigh. “Where are you?”

  “Hi,” I answer. “Jordy knows my father. He’s connected to my dad somehow.”

  We sit in silence for too many seconds. I squirm uncomfortably and twist my thumb ring.

  “I know,” he says.

  I’m numb, my limbs unattached from my body, my heart again desecrated.

  “How does he know him?” I ask. Did they do business together? Was Jordy involved in something illegal? Why has Jordy never said anything?

  “He should be the one to tell you.” Dylan’s discomfort is tangible; it reaches across to contaminate me like a nasty itch.

  I squeeze my eyes together. “But I’m not asking him. I’m asking you. I want you to tell me.”

  “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m so sorry. Jordy’s the one who turned in your father to the police.”

  At first, I can’t comprehend his words. “Jordy? He did this and never told me? He pretended he didn’t know me and gave me a job?”

  “Emerson. I agree. He should’ve told you. He was scared you wouldn’t understand. That you’d blame him.”

  My hand trembles under the strain of holding the phone against my ear. “You’ve all been lying to me?”

  “We can talk about this in person. Are you at home? I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I press the fingernails of my free hand into my bare thigh. “I’m not home. And I won’t be coming back to your house. I don’t need a job working for a bunch of liars.”

  “Don’t. Don’t shut me out.”

  I pull the phone from my head and press END.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bringing Booty Back

  Dylan

  My roommates and friends have pimped the game room beyond recognition. They’ve gone all out to host Jelly Bean Queen. The last time we had a party at our house, a girl I didn’t know vomited in a potted plant sitting in one corner of the game room. The plant wasn’t ours. It was one of those plants with massive tropical leaves. Emerson brought things like the plants in because she said it made it homey.

  The following day, Emerson placed the potted plant in the trash and threatened to quit working for us. I’d smiled at her and said she loved us too much to leave.

  It was a douchebag thing to say. My douchery is always twenty-twenty.

  When I mentioned the party to Gabby, she immediately invited herself. I don’t mind that she’s here. It’s a sure way for me to know if Emerson calls her.

  The JBQ guitarist hands Gabby a beer. I stroll casually across the room and take it from her hand. “Why don’t I introduce you to Veronica? She’s over at the bar. Come on.”

  She allows me to guide her away. “One drink isn’t going to hurt anything.”

  “Your sist
er would kill me.”

  “What does she care?”

  Gabby’s harsh tone surprises me. Her mood has swung from worried to angry. I stop walking before we make it to Veronica. “You know she does. She’s not herself right now.”

  To my horror, Gabby’s eyes fill with tears. “I’ve been a pain in the ass. No wonder she left me. But if she’ll just come back or even talk to me, I’ll do better.” She wipes the tears from her face, smearing black mascara underneath her eyes.

  I put my arm around her. “Gabby, don’t cry. She didn’t leave because of you. We’ll get her back.”

  “Maybe.” She sniffles. “That blonde girl mixing drinks at the bar? Is that Veronica?”

  “Uh huh,” I say, distractedly glancing at my phone to make sure I haven’t missed a call.

  “She’s giving me a scary look.”

  I lift my gaze to see that Veronica is indeed glaring at us. “She’s Team Emerson and doesn’t know who you are. That’s all.”

  “Well, I’m Team Emerson, too.” With that, she mills through the sea of people who’ve all shown up to meet the band. A friend of ours is playing DJ tonight and the music blasts through the room. Several people sit in the area with the new furniture Emerson helped to arrange.

  She’d be so glad to see that the room works well for the party scene. But she’s too stubborn to let me talk to her and maybe, just maybe, she’s lost her mind. Why is she with Toby? She was with me—body and soul—in that hotel room. I’ve no doubt that she’s with him only to run from me. This powerful pull we have on each other has her running and I know I’m not vain to think that.

  I’m thinking about the other night, about tasting her skin, her lips, her tongue. Gabby grabs my arm and I look up in surprise. “Yeah?”

  “I need to go.”

  “Something wrong?”

  She looks away and then back at me. “Jenny wants to talk to me about Emerson. I’ll call you, okay? I need to go talk to her.”

  I give an irritated nod. “Sure.”

  Gabby tilts her head. “It’s going to be all right. Don’t worry. I’ll call you.”

  “Call me tonight. I don’t care what time. Call.”

  She smiles, relief spreading across her features. “You bet.”

  Gabby leaves the party, no sign of regret that she won’t be hanging around with rock stars. I grin a little at that. Maybe she’s not so bad after all.

  My gaze drifts to the cell phone on my nightstand, and I check the ringer so I know it’s working. I knew before I checked, but couldn’t help myself. A watched phone never rings. I’ve been lying on my bed unable to sleep for the past two hours. A few people are still downstairs and the music’s low but that’s not the reason for my insomnia.

  I surrender to my instincts and dial Gabby—my only lifeline to Emerson. It rings three times and goes to her annoying voice mail message. “Call me. It’s important.”

  It’s impossible to keep the edge out of my voice. So much for my trust in the bubble-headed sister.

  Since I won’t be counting sheep anytime soon, I go for a run. I loop my usual route three times. I bend over and catch my breath at the end. When I return, the house is quiet and the extra cars are gone. I walk inside and Veronica is picking up.

  “Hi,” she says softly.

  “Hi. Don’t worry about this. You should get some sleep.” I take the black trash bag from her and put it in the garage. I bump into her when I turn around to go back inside.

  “Why didn’t Emerson come to the party?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and yawns.

  “It’s all messed up. She’s not speaking to me.”

  “Then fix things.”

  “I wish it were that easy.” I move past her and into the house.

  “It is easy.” She grabs the back of my shirt to stop me. “Either you care enough to lay it all out there, or you don’t.”

  “I’ve been doing my best, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “You sound like a quitter.”

  “She won’t answer my calls. She’s hanging out with some guy she barely knows. She’s shutting me out.” I rarely get pissed, but Veronica’s way out of line. “What do you suggest I do? Go drag her over here and force her to admit that she wants me? Grovel? Blackmail her?”

  “Okay. Those are all good plans. But going for a run before daylight isn’t going to work.” She purses her lips like I’m being dense. “Better shower and go find her.”

  She’s right.

  On instinct, I pull her into a quick hug. “Thanks.”

  A half hour later, I pull into Emerson and Gabby’s apartment complex and notice how quiet everything is at this hour. No lady at the opposite building staring as she smokes. No kids hanging around the dumpster.

  By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I’m a little spooked by the ghost-town feel around the place. Emerson’s door opens and a guy peeks out. He’s wearing a backward baseball cap and a shady look.

  Anger and adrenaline cocktail in my body. “What are you doing in there?”

  “Nobody’s home,” he says. He closes the door behind him. “You remember me, right? I’m a friend of Gabby’s. Live two doors down. You’re Emerson’s old man.”

  “She’d take offense to that. We were together, but we had a misunderstanding. You’re Bruce, right?”

  “Bryce,” he says.

  “Where’s Gabby?”

  “I’m asking myself the same thing.”

  “How’d you get inside their apartment if Gabby’s not home?”

  “Key. Gabby gave it to me a while back.”

  I raise one brow. “Really?”

  He smirks. “Yeah, man. I know you’re wondering. She likes me. I come over sometimes. But she doesn’t want her sister to know yet. She thinks Emerson won’t approve of me.”

  I ask the question I don’t want to ask. “Do you know if Gabby came home last night? She came to a party at my house. She left early.”

  Bryce shakes his head. “No. I came by earlier. Something ain’t right.”

  “Where would she go?”

  “I don’t know. She’s not answering my texts.”

  Bryce glances to the parking lot and nods his head. “Emerson’s here,” Bryce says.

  We’re both out of view from below, but Bryce is closer to the railing. He peers over.

  “Who’s she with?” I ask. Instead of waiting for his answer, I take a step forward so I can see for myself.

  Emerson shuts the passenger door and waits for the driver to get out. I know deep down that Toby’s the driver. Still, I’m shocked to see him. It takes me thirty seconds to realize it’s the same guy. He no longer has the long hair. He grins at Emerson, white teeth flashing like he’s so happy.

  Given half the chance, I’d love to modify his teeth.

  I hate the guy with an intensity I’ve not felt since the eighth grade when Duke Warnock locked Jordy in a car trunk. Toby has stolen my girl right from under my nose. I’m not sure how he did it, but it won’t last.

  Emerson and Toby walk up the stairs and round the corner before they see us. They’re talking and I strain to hear the conversation. Emerson lifts her head and her eyes grow wide when she sees me.

  She stumbles and Toby frowns at me. When his hand settles on her back, I fight the desire to knock him flat on his ass.

  Emerson composes her face but not before I see her anger. “Visiting Gabby?”

  “She’s not home.” I note Emerson’s look of surprise.

  “Oh.” Emerson glances from Toby to me. “I—”

  A cell ringtone sounds and Emerson pulls her phone from her bag. “Hey.” She pauses, listening to the person on the other end.

  “Where are you?” Emerson’s brows draw together. “Why did Jenny tell you to go to Earle’s?”

  She freezes completely, one foot staggered in front of the other. Her face pales and she bends for a second like she might actually fall. I lunge forward, but Emerson pulls back.

  “We
have to go,” she says to Toby. Without waiting for his reply, she races down the building steps. He follows like her damn lap dog, ready for her orders. The morning is quiet again, and I realize they’re gone.

  “I know that guy.”

  The voice startles me for a second since I’ve forgotten about Bryce standing behind me. “Oh yeah?”

  “That fucker is the one watching her apartment.”

  A stealthy pull of nausea grabs me like a riptide. I grip the iron railing in front of me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m positive. What’s he doing with her?” Bryce adjusts his cap twice.

  “She doesn’t know he’s the one.” I rub both hands over my face. If Jordy’s right and the FBI is watching Emerson, then Toby’s part of it. What the hell is going on? “She said Earle’s, right? I’m going after them.” I turn on my heel and jog down the steps.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I hit the unlock button on my key fob and hurl my body into the car. Bryce hops in without waiting for me to invite him. The car tires squeal when I quickly reverse and head out of the lot.

  Why didn’t I question her? Force her to talk to me? A bad feeling threatens to smother me.

  I take a turn too fast and wide. The oncoming car banks to the shoulder of the road. Bryce puts one hand on the passenger door to stop from slamming into it.

  “Christ, man. Slow down,” Bryce yells in a nervous voice.

  I glance over in time to see him clip his seatbelt. “Sorry.”

  “We want to get there without a police escort, right?” he asks a little too loud.

  “Calm down,” I say without slowing.

  He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. As soon as I pull to a stop, he opens the car door and makes his way to the front of Earle’s.

  Earle’s Temptations is a lone metal building off the side of the highway. At night, the neon signs flash from seven until four in the morning, giving it a Las Vegas feel. In the early morning hours, the strip club looks seedy and deserted.

  There are three cars parked outside near the front of the building and I recognize the one Toby was driving earlier. I grab Bryce’s arm. “Hey, slow down.”