by J. P. James
I nod at Shelly, who pauses her work at the computer. Next time he comes around, she’ll schedule him for the 10th of never.
With a cool smile, I turn to Victor and shake his hand, with a wintry smile that never touches my eyes. “Good luck, and maybe I’ll see you around.”
Victor looks a little off-balance, like the meeting with me hadn’t gone quite like he’d pictured. Tough shit. He’s been playing with puppies all of this time, but I’m the wolf he should really be worried about.
12
Milo
In my bedroom, I hum as I put the laundry away. My clothes are clean, there’s food in the kitchen, and for now, I don’t have to worry about finding another job.
Playing Desires is over. The club is shut down while the police investigate the shooting and Milton Harmsworth’s death, but at least I have the money from Neil to tide me over for a bit. I’m grateful to the billionaire, even if I’m still a little confused. What does he want from me? Where are we going with this?
Plus, since I’m not going to the club anymore, I’ve had some time to think seriously about just how deeply in love with Neil Woods I’ve fallen. There, I said it. It’s the truth, and I can’t deny what makes my heart beat fast and hard.
But it’s true. Everything about him fills my mind and makes me happy. For example, earlier today, I went by the conservatory and a few local music schools to get their catalogs. I know I can get catalogs more conveniently online, but I like to hold the thick paper in my hand and smell the ink. It makes it easier to imagine re-enrolling in school and taking my academic life back in my own hands once again.
On the way home, I’d walked through Central Park and texted Neil from the fancy garden there just because I could. The sight of all those colorful roses and other flowers reminded me intensely of the Friday night we spent together, and the long and delicious weekend that came after. It’s only been a few days, but I’m already hooked on Neil. He’s so incredibly charismatic and handsome. The definition of the kind of man I never thought I could have for my own, or even that I deserved. But now, I have him, or at least a part of him, and it feels wonderful.
My phone chimes. It’s a special notification from my bank, letting me know my balance for the week. Quickly, I fold the last of my boxers and put them in the drawer before reaching for my phone. I open the app and log in to my account, expecting to see about twenty-thousand dollars from Neil’s first check, more or less.
But the amount I see in my account makes me blink once, then twice.
$160,000.
What? Where did this come from? How did I go from twenty thousand to eight times that? My mouth drops open, and I can’t help but stare at that number. I drop down to the bed, right on my ass.
Suddenly, I remember Neil said he was going to pay me for my performance at Alexandra’s. But I didn’t know the price tag was going to be one hundred and forty thousand dollars!
My bank account has never had this much money in it before. Not even a quarter this amount. A flutter ripples up and down my stomach; it feels like a whole new door has opened for me. Maybe now, the catalogs I picked up today can become more than signposts of a dream I can’t achieve. With this money, there are more possibilities open for me than ever before.
But then I stop short. It’s Neil’s money, really. The first installment was basically for sex. The second one... Well, the second deposit was actually for performing, but he’s the man I’m falling in love with. Can I take his money like this?
My finger taps against the side of the phone. I bite my lip.
The phone suddenly chimes from my hand, and I almost jump out of my skin. It’s Carla.
“Did you read my mind?” I ask breathlessly. “I was just about to call and ask you for more advice.”
“Oh my God, Milo. Turn on channel 3!” Her voice is high and squeaky. She sounds panicked, and nothing like the level-headed friend I rely on to keep calm in most situations.
Galvanized by the urgency in her tone, I rush into the living room and turn on the TV.
On the screen, the same reporter who’d reported on Milton’s death at the club is speaking.
“...and today, police confirmed the news. This latest shocking murder only adds complications to the Playing Desires case. The police are asking for any tips and information to help them move forward with the investigation.”
What happened?
Just as I open my mouth to ask Carla what’s going on, a news banner scrolls across the screen: James Harmsworth - dead.
“What?” I practically shout the panicked question into the phone. “Oh my God! Poor Jimmy. Oh my God!” The phone drops from my nerveless fingers and tumbles across the floor.
“Are you all right, honey?” I hear Carla’s voice from far away, but I can’t answer. My whole body is frozen in shock.
What’s going on here? First Milton and now his son? Is somebody targeting the owners and upper management of the bar? Why? What about the people who worked there? Am I next?
The reporter’s voice keeps going. “Again, James Harmsworth was found dead this morning in his Manhattan residence. What makes the case particularly chilling is the message the murderer left for the police.” The reporter looks very well put together in her chic dress, despite the terrible news she’s relaying. She lifts a paper to read the message from the killer. “The note with the body reads, ‘This is what happens when you mess with the hunt; you become hunted.’”
What? What kind of bizarre note is that? It sounds poetic, but in a lame way. Nonetheless, the reporter continues babbling. “The police now know, for certain, that the infamous Don Hunt and his gang are involved in the murder of both men, Milton Harmsworth and his only son, James.”
A sudden scream rises up from outside my window. I nearly jump out of my skin. Holy cow! Cautiously, I creep to the window to look out, but it’s only a bunch of cats fighting in the alley. My fingers curl up and dig into the edge of the window as my breath starts to come faster and faster. I can feel a panic attack coming toward me like a freight train, starting to roll over all of the logic in my brain.
What if they come for me next? What am I going to do?
Frantic now, I spin around and grab my phone from where it fell. Carla is still on the line, calling my name desperately.
“Milo! Please! Say something! If I don’t hear your voice in ten seconds, I’m coming right over there!”
Swallowing my panic, I force my voice to calm down. “I’m okay. I just... I just need to talk to Neil. He seems to know what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”
“Thank god you answered,” Carla gasps in relief. “I was just about to throw the kids in the car and drive over there.”
“No, no. It’s okay. I’m going to call Neil and see what exactly is going on. I’ll tell you what I find out.”
“Okay, but be careful, Milo. Two guys are dead now, so stay safe, you hear?”
The anxiety and concern in her near scream set off my own panic again. “I know. Listen, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.” Then I hang up before she can say anything else.
My hands are shaking like leaves in the wind when I dial Neil’s number. When he answers on the first ring, I suddenly start to feel a little bit settled again.
“Neil!” I gasp into the phone, pressed tightly against my face. “Please help me. I don’t know what to do. Did you hear the news?”
In a trembling voice, I relay everything I’ve heard to the billionaire. My hope is that Neil can help me because only with his savvy and resources will I come out of this situation alive.
13
Neil
When I get Milo’s panicked phone call, my heart jumps into my throat. It’s automatic. I don’t think. Across the table from me, my billionaire client looks puzzled when I suddenly stand up with the phone still in my hands.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him. “My apologies, but it’s a family emergency.”
He nods in understanding, his hipster/computer geek gl
asses glinting in the light. “No worries, Mr. Woods. Call me when you can.”
I drop a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the coffee shop tab, and practically run out to my car.
No business deal, no family emergency has ever made my heart beat so fast that it feels like it’s going to fly out of my chest. Even when I got the call from the cops a million years ago saying my father was found unresponsive, I never knew this kind of dread.
Still, my dad is a sad story actually. My father had been killing himself for years with alcohol and various recreational drugs, heartbroken from his love for a deceased woman who’d been killed by a careless hit-and-run driver long ago. He’d been trying to off himself for so long that I didn’t know him any other way. I was just the company he’d chosen to keep during his slow suicide. His death hadn’t been a surprise, to be honest. I’d been mourning him all of my life, and that call from the cops had just seemed like the final part of it.
But Milo’s cry over the phone. Oh shit. The way he’d called my name like only I could help him immediately sparked my adrenaline. It was help that had nothing to do with my money, and everything to do with the connection he and I have. His pleading lit a fire under my ass so quickly, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’d left burnt tire marks between the coffee shop and his apartment.
Fortunately, someone’s left the door to the building ajar, and I push it open, storming up the stairs to Milo’s floor. At his front door, I knock firmly. No answer. I knock again. Still no answer.
My heart rattles in my rib cage from worry. Before I know it, my phone is in my hand. He answers when I call. Thank God!
“Milo, honey, I’m at the door. Can you let me in?”
“Is it really you? Neil...” His voice wavers and then completely falls away. “I’m so scared. Please help me.”
“I’m here, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay. Just open the door.”
A cold sweat runs under my clothes. He sounds like he’s having a complete panic attack, like he doesn’t even know how to do something as basic as let me in.
Damn, he’s so frightened.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.” My voice lowers, becoming soothing, deeper. “Where are you? Near the front door?”
“I’m... I’m in the bedroom.” A sob tears from his throat and just about breaks my heart. “I feel like I’m trapped in a block of ice. I can’t move.” His teeth sound like they’re chattering.
“I’m here, and everything’s going to be all right. Just trust me, okay?”
“Yes, yes.” A pause. “I trust you.”
“Okay. I’m just going to put the phone in my pocket for a second, okay? I’m not going to hang up.”
“Okay.” He sounds so lost. So scared.
What the hell did this to him? Or whom, might be the better question? Well, it doesn’t matter now. What matters is taking care of my lover. I slip the phone into my pocket and test the strength of the door. It’s a piece of shit that any kid with a grudge could knock down, so it takes me about two seconds to push it open, smashing the flimsy lock. It breaks with a sound like a gunshot. I grab the phone from my pocket in time to hear Milo’s frenzied breathing.
“What was that?” He gasps the question over and over again even as I try to calm him with my voice.
“It’s just me, baby,” I say into the phone, loud enough that he can hear my voice from the bedroom where he’s hiding. “I’m in the living room, and I’m on my way to you now.”
When I get to the bedroom, I see Milo sitting on the floor, squeezed between a chair and the wall. The curtain hangs partly over his head, and the material flutters over his mouth with each terrified breath.
Slowly, I approach him, still talking. “I’m here now. Nothing can hurt you, baby.” Although I don’t know what he’s afraid of, it’s obvious that he’s terrified of something. More specifically, a something that will get him if he dares opens the door. Whatever it is, whoever it is, they’ll pay for making him feel fear like this.
“Neil?” The phone is pressed to his mouth, and his eyes are huge in his face. Dried tears stick to his reddened cheeks, making sticky trails. He looks at me like he can’t believe I’m actually standing right here. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, baby. It’s me.”
Before I finish saying the words, he drops the phone and leaps into my arms. He’s shaking so hard that both of our bodies vibrate with it.
Who caused this? What the fuck?
Placing a kiss on his forehead, I sweep him into my arms and carry him to the bed. With one arm, I pull the covers down and try to put him down, but he holds on tight to me. “Don’t leave!” he cries. “Please. Please, don’t leave me!”
“I’m not going anywhere, Songbird.” Because he won’t let go, I toe off my shoes and climb into the bed with him, suit and all. I’ll worry about wrinkles later.
With the covers up around Milo’s trembling shoulders and his body wrapped tightly around mine, he settles into the bed.
“What happened, baby? What’s wrong?”
He starts to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out of his tremulous lips. The look in his eyes is pure terror. It breaks my heart. It pisses me off, to be honest, lighting a fire deep within.
My songbird should never fear like this. He should never hurt like this, and I’ll do whatever is in my power to make this horror go away.
“It’s okay, Songbird. You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.” I smooth my hand over his thick hair and tuck his hot and tear-stained face against my chest. “You’re completely safe with me. No one’s going to hurt you.”
And that’s a promise. The minutes pass, and gradually, slowly, he calms down enough to stop shaking. But even though we lie there in silence for nearly an hour, his eyes never close. Milo blinks and holds on to me, his chest slowly rising and falling with the passing minutes. For him, I stay still and silent and unmovable. Whatever he needs.
A long while later, he shifts in my arms. “Neil,” he breathes my name like a prayer. “Thank you for coming.”
“Whenever you need me, baby, I’m here. Always.” My fingers sift through his heavy curls and across his neck, feeling the steady and strong thud of his pulse.
His eyes are wide and damp when they look up at me. Milo licks his dry lips just as tears flood down his cheeks. He swallows loudly but doesn’t say anything. His Adam’s apple bounces up and down painfully as he gulps.
“Let me take care of you, Milo. I’ll stay here with you all night if you want, but wouldn’t you feel more comfortable at my place? It’s big and has top-of-the-line security. No one would ever be able to hurt you there.”
I pause because it feels reckless to say this. “Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do. Wherever you want to be, I’ll be there with you.”
He swallows again, and his lashes fall low to hide the deep pools of chocolate. When he looks up again, there’s a sudden resolution there.
“Yes,” he says in a soft and trembling voice. “Please, take me home with you, Neil. I need that.”
With those words, love blossoms in my chest. Him needing me? That’s what makes my world go around, and I sweep the young man into my arms, holding him tight.
14
Milo
“Welcome to my place.” Neil steps into the wide hallway behind me and closes the door to his penthouse with a firm click. He adjusts my overnight bag over his shoulder and comes closer to take my hand. “Let me show you where you’ll be spending the night — or however long you want to be here.”
I’m feeling better enough to smile through my innocence. “Hopefully, I’ll be sleeping wherever you are.”
A smile shapes his firm and sensuous mouth. “Absolutely.”
The moment he swept me up into his arms after coming into my apartment, I felt safer. He held me, talked to me, and soothed me. And with only a few words, he offered me the ultimate safety of his home. For as long as I want it, no less.
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br /> Of course, I didn’t know what I was getting into because his home is huge and beautiful. He has the entire penthouse floor of a twenty-story building, complete with a doorman, marble floors, and artwork that looks like it belongs in a classy museum. The ceilings are high with glittering chandeliers hanging down, and the windows are wide enough to showcase Central Park.
As soon as we come in, though, he darkens the windows so that I’ll feel even safer and not like the entire city is watching us. He’s aready shown me the cameras, the security guys who guard the building, the alarms that set automatically behind him, and the panic button in the extremely unlikely case that someone gets past the other safeguards.
Even though I’m still a little shaken up from the news of Jimmy’s death, now, with Neil, I feel safer than I ever have in my whole life.
His fingers tighten around mine. “Come on. Let me show you my suite.”
I fight to find a smile. My chin wobbles, but at least the crying is over. “You want to show me where the magic happens, huh?”
His eyebrows wiggle up and down. “Magic can happen all over this place, handsome. Especially with you.”
A wave of pleasure fills my chest. God, he’s so amazing, and such a good man. It’s incredible how Neil has always been kind to me. Even in the beginning when he offered me the twenty thousand dollars for “performing,” not to mention when he pulled me out of Playing Desires, he was trying to protect me. Me, a stranger. A nobody, really.
So even though it’s happening right now, part of me can’t believe that any of this is happening. Not to Milo Barnett, college drop-out and failed concert pianist.
After all, Neil Woods is handsome, sexy, incredibly wealthy, and somehow sweet as well. He’s the whole package. How and why does he choose to spend his time with me? It’s like a fairy tale turned into reality. I’m living some sort of a dream, except for the nightmare of Jimmy and Milton being murdered, that is. I shudder and shrink against Neil.