by Aly Martinez
“I know.”
I swallowed hard. “He was there the night you showed up at the bar. He walked in behind you.”
His eyes turned dark, but his face filled with understanding. “That’s why you ran?”
“I lost it, Jude. I do every time I see him. He set me on fire. He wanted me dead. He still wants me dead.”
“Rhion,” he said in the same placating tone Johnson used any time we talked about the fire. “He was in jail. There’s no way he started the fire.”
“So he had someone do it for him. He hates me, Jude.”
He hooked an arm under the back of my legs and dragged me onto his lap. Holding me close, he asked, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I choked. “I mean, I guess I do.”
“Then tell me,” he implored.
“You’re going to laugh…but I’ve always felt like he was destined to hate me. See, my mom was a novice astronumerologist. She swore she could read the stars and all that crap. When I was born, she named me after the constellation Orion. For reasons known only to my mother and JR Ward, she added an h.”
“JR who?” he asked.
“She’s an author.” I waved him off. “Anyway…according to lore, Orion was in love with Artemis, much to her brother Apollo’s dismay. Eventually, Apollo tricked Artemis into killing Orion.”
“Uh huh.” He blinked at me for several seconds. “And do you have any reasons to believe your brother hates you that don’t involve mythology?”
“Maybe.”
“Could I get those?”
I let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. My father was no saint. He had a temper and was known to be cutthroat in the boardroom. But he was good dad—at least to me. He and Apollo…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “They were oil and water. Apollo lied about everything, and it drove Dad crazy. They used to fight nonstop. Dad shipped him off to this posh boarding school when he was in sixth grade. He got kicked out the first week. After that, Dad sent him to a not-so-posh military school. Apollo was miserable. He wrote letters and begged to come home, but Dad refused. When he came home for Christmas that year, he started acting aggressive toward me. He shoved me down the stairs, broke my arm. I swore to my father that it was an accident. It wasn’t. He’s just so damn angry.
“The following year, he tied me to a chair and cut all of my hair off the day before my big Christmas performance at school. I had our maid sneak me to the salon before my father saw. I was scared of Apollo, but I was terrified for him if Dad ever found out all the shit he did to me. It got to the point where I’d make up excuses to leave town any time he was going to be home. I rarely saw him after that, but I missed him. We were close as kids. We were young when Mom died, and Dad traveled a lot, but we had each other. When he went to jail, I hated the idea of him being alone, so I went to visit him. And the strangest thing happened: He opened up. He apologized, Jude. For everything. He was a mess, so filled with regret. He may have been in an orange jumpsuit and behind bars, but I laughed with my brother for the first time in almost a decade. Every week for a year, I went to visit him, two hours each way. And I felt like I’d finally gotten my family back. And then Dad died.” My throat became thick with emotion, rendering me unable to speak.
“He left you everything,” Jude filled in when my words failed me. “And your brother lost his mind. And then, six weeks later…the fire.”
I nodded.
“And then, two years ago, he got out of jail?”
“He attacked me at a charity event. Spouting lies about my entire family then told me he set the fire to teach me a lesson…” The words died on my tongue.
“And then he started following you, so you figured it was easier to hide than deal with him.”
My breathing shuddered as I tried to get my scrambled emotions under control. There was something distinctly freeing about telling someone, especially Jude, about the world that kept me locked in my ivory tower.
“It wasn’t just Apollo though. People came out of the woodwork after I inherited everything. All of Dad’s ex-wives, their kids, long-lost cousins. Even my best friends had their hands held open. People would show up to hang out with me while I was recovering from the fire, spend a couple of hours, and then, hours later, hit me up for money. Everything just felt so premeditated and insincere. I’d never felt so alone. So I decided I didn’t want it anymore. I signed over control of my father’s estate to his old business partner, Peter Higgins.”
His face turned to stone as he whispered ominously, “Peter Higgins.”
Embarrassed at the memory of when Jude punched him at the hospital, I attempted to look away, but Jude didn’t allow it.
Catching my chin, he forced my gaze back to his. “You gave him all of it?”
“Technically, it’s still mine, but he controls it now.” I laughed sadly. “See? I told you it’s a lot crazy.”
“Jesus Christ, Rhion. Stop saying that. In the span of two years, you lost your father, nearly lost your own life in a fire that has never been solved, and had the brother who’d mentally and physically abused you get out of jail only to start stalking you, all while having to deflect people who tried to leech money off you. Personally, I don’t think hiring a security firm and keeping to yourself is all that extreme.”
“Oh God.” My shoulders shook as a tear fell from my eyes.
He understood.
Jude tucked a stray hair behind my ear and grinned, “Look at you talking in paragraphs and actually saying something at the same time.”
I half laughed, half sobbed as he kissed me. He kept his mouth closed, but it was deep and lingering.
Promising.
When he finally leaned away, he held my gaze and said, “Leo assigned me as your new bodyguard.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“He liked the fact that you trusted me enough to go back to my place. So they sat me down this morning and laid it out. I needed to be fully informed if we’re out and we run into Apollo.”
“Yes, okay. Fully informed, fine. But what about Johnson?”
He frowned.
“Not that I don’t think you couldn’t do it or anything,” I rushed out. “It’s just… I’ve known Johnson for a long time and he gets me.”
His already hard face became harder, so I kept talking.
“I mean, I know you get me too. It’s different with him though.”
Jude’s eyes narrowed.
So I blurted, “I’m not having sex with him!”
Smooth, Rhion.
Thankfully, Jude’s lips twitched, and he sifted his fingers into my hair, leaving his palm resting over my cheek. “I’m gonna take this as good news, considering I’m having sex with you.”
I pressed into his hand and whispered, “I don’t want you guarding me, Jude. Sometimes, I get a little freaked out when Apollo shows up. I don’t want you to see me like that.”
“Baby, have a little faith in me.”
“I do have faith in you. Swear to God I do. But, Jude, this is different. I’d like to have a talk with Leo about this. I don’t feel comfortable—”
“Johnson and I will be splitting duty,” he stated as fact. “But, considering me and you now have a personal and professional relationship. I’m betting the majority of this is going to fall on my shoulders.”
I bit my lip. “Fall on your shoulders. Just what every girl wants to hear.”
“Rhion, look at me.”
I begrudgingly gave him my gaze.
“I’m keeping this assignment because, if your brother tries to make a move, I’m gonna be the man to keep you safe. And, if you get freaked out, then get freaked out. I’ll be the man to take care of that too. I’m not sure how taking my girlfriend out to dinner is going to translate on a résumé, but for me, it’ll be worth it. So, yeah, Rhion. This is me checking in for duty. And tonight, when I take you out to dinner, I’ll ask Johnson to tag along, not because I need him there, but because I think you do. We’ll take this transition slow, okay?�
�
My heart soared as I stated the obvious. “You don’t like Johnson.”
“Not even a little bit, though he’s growing on me since I found out he’s been taking care of you since you were a kid.”
I sucked in a shaky breath and buried my face in his neck. “Thank you.”
“How about you save the gratitude for when I have you naked tonight, and for now, give me some of the real pieces of Rhion Park?”
I smiled and allowed the truth to slip from my lips. “I’m a romance author.”
He rumbled in frustration, “I’m serious, Rhion.”
I leaned back so I could see him. “I am, too. I started writing after the fire.” Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Okay, so maybe some pieces could wait until we’d been together for more than a few days.
He tipped his head to the side and studied my face. “I have no idea if you’re bullshitting me or not.”
“It’s true, I swear. I’ve written fifteen books now.”
He blinked and asked in disbelief, “And you make enough selling them to cover a downtown apartment, personal chefs, and twenty-four-hour protection?”
“Oh God, no. I don’t sell them. I just write them.”
He twisted his lips and drawled, “Aaand, again, I have no idea if you’re serious or not.”
I laughed. “I’ve never published them. Have you ever sat down and read reviews online?”
“I can honestly say I have not.”
“Well, let’s just say they aren’t always pretty. I would have to stay drunk for, like, a month if I ever unleashed my books into the world. Writing is my therapy. It helps me get my thoughts and feelings out. It’s an outlet for my creativity, and I don’t need anyone else judging that. I’d do it for free, but a girl’s got to eat. When I signed over control of the money to Pete, I was already hiding out in my apartment, so a nine-to-five job was out. Not that I really had any special skills to begin with. My degree is in journalism, but I basically went to college to make Dad happy and stay away from Apollo. My first job out of college was recovering from the burns. That’s when I started writing, and I fell in love. There are a few people who read my books, like my best friend, Brianna, and occasionally my stepsister, Katie. But I like it that way. The deadlines give me a schedule so I don’t feel like I’m wasting away in this apartment, and the money is just an incentive. I’ll get a stipend whether I finish them or not, but the way Pete and I set it up, I get an additional bonus each time I finish a book. They keep my heart happy. My mind sharp. And my hands busy. It might sound silly, but it’s my dream job. And I don’t care one bit that no one reads them. I don’t need the approval from others. Those books are for me. No one else.”
He failed to keep a straight face as he said, “So, let me get this straight. You write stories that no one will ever read, and then someone pays you with your own money, which is enough for you to wear twelve-hundred-dollar heels and spend ridiculous amounts of money on a little girl you’ve only known for hours?”
I swayed my head from side to side in consideration. “Pretty much. And you might think it’s insane, and in some ways, it is. But, at this juncture in time, I’d like to remind you that you just admitted to knowing how much my shoes cost, which means either you have a predilection for high heels—a fetish that could potentially bode well for me if this relationship works out—or you actually took the time to look up my shoes on the Internet and see how much they cost. Which, I’ll be very honest, makes you look rather creepy. So I’m not sure you are currently in the position to call anyone insane.”
Jude smiled. And I’m talking a wide, blinding, white smile that made my stomach dip and a soft moan escape my lips.
He leaned me back until my shoulders were against the couch, and then he rolled on top of me, where he kissed me, hard and wet.
“I retract my statement. You’re a lot crazy,” he murmured against my lips.
I was. But, if the way Jude’s cock thickened between us was any indication, he liked it.
He confirmed this when he pushed my shirt up and aimed his mouth to my breast, mumbling, “I gotta say—I like it, Butterfly.”
“Katie, I swear to God, if you do not call me back, I’m flying to your house and kicking the door down. Yes, I know I have a key, seeing as the building is still in my name, but I’ve always wanted to kick a door down. And, as your landlord, I’m going to charge you double to fix it.” I peeked my head out of my bedroom door and saw Jude hovering over the maps sprawled across my dining room table.
I smiled to myself.
It had been a week since that night on Jude’s dining room table, and I could honestly say it had been hands down the best seven days of my life. I hadn’t written a single word in that time, but it had been worth missing every self-imposed deadline for those nights spent in his arms.
After silently closing the door again, I went back to cussing my stepsister out on her voicemail for what had to be the hundredth time. “I can’t believe you told your mother about my books!” I hissed. “She almost busted me out in front of Jude. But you probably already knew about that, considering you gave her my address! What the hell was that about? You fucked up big time. Now, call me back so I can scream at you. Voice messages aren’t nearly as therapeutic as the real thing.” I pressed end and let out a loud growl.
She’d call back eventually, probably right before her birthday. This year, I’d decided to really stick it to her by shopping in the online clearance section. Unfortunately, I knew myself well enough to know I’d get bored with the clearance stuff and click over to the shoes and we’d both end up with a new pair of Manolo Blahniks. I had a serious weakness for shoes.
After flopping onto my bed, I hit Pete’s number on the speed dial. It had been a while since we’d talked, and while I’d filled Sandy in on everything about Jude just the day before, Pete had yet to return my call.
“Peter Higgins’s office,” Sandy answered.
“Hey, it’s Rhion.”
“Oh, hey, baby.”
I grinned. “Any chance Pete’s free?”
“You’ve got good timing. He just walked out of a meeting. Hang on and I’ll put you through.”
“Hey,” I said, catching her before she transferred the call. “Did you have a chance to, um…”
“To tell him about your tryst with the drunk cop? Yes.”
“He’s not a drunk cop!” I exclaimed before lowering my voice so Jude wouldn’t hear me. “And it’s not a tryst. We’re…together.”
“Maybe, but I’m telling you. Pete is never going to trust the guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well. I’m a big girl, so I’m the only one who needs to trust Jude.”
And I did. Implicitly. An idea that made me smile. I trusted people in my life, but it was a very short list. Before Jude, Johnson had been the one name permanently inked on it.
“He punched Pete when you were in the hospital, Rhion.”
I groaned. “It was…a tumultuous time for us all after the fire. Can you just get Pete for me?”
“Sure thing. And good luck.”
“Gee, thanks,” I smarted, curling my legs under me as I settled into my favorite spot right in the middle of the mattress.
“Hey, kiddo!” Pete said in the same chipper tone he always used with me. This time it wasn’t genuine.
“Hey, Pete,” I replied softly.
“To what do I owe this honor? You finish the new book?”
“I know you know about Jude.”
“And I know you know I don’t approve. So, why bring it up?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Because I want you to approve. Because I’m crazy about him. Because I want you to meet him.”
“I don’t approve. I’m not crazy about him. And I’ve already met him.”
“Pete!”
“Rhion!” he mocked. “Look, I need to go. I have a meeting across town in half an hour. I can’t make decisions for you, but the man almost got you killed. You’ll
have to excuse me for not being real excited that he’s now trying to screw you in a different way.”
I gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Well, I did. And I mean it. Now, do you need anything else?”
“What I need is for you to stop being an ass,” I retorted. “I’m happy for the first time in a long while. And I’d appreciate it if you at least pretended that makes you happy too.”
“Oh, I’m ecstatic, Rhion. But I’m also on standby for when this guy drops his guard and you realize he’s nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Do me a favor and make sure to let him know you don’t have the money anymore.”
I wanted to laugh at the idea of Jude being the wolf, considering he’d been my prey since our first night together.
Grinding my teeth, I shot back, “He already knows.”
“Then that’s fantastic news. I expect to hear from you next week when he hits the road.”
“You keep acting like this, you won’t be hearing from me at all.” If I hadn’t needed something, I would have hung up on him. But, as it stood, the best I could do was get pissy. Moving to my vanity to start on my makeup for the day, I snapped, “I need the keys to the house in LA and access to the plane.”
“The house in LA has tenants in it, and I sold the plane,” he replied.
My hand froze in midair, my foundation brush never making it to my face. “What are you talking about?”
He sighed. “You haven’t gone farther than two blocks from your apartment in two years, Rhion. It’s not like you were using them.”
“You let strangers move into my childhood home?” This was spoken at exactly one decibel below a shriek.
“It’s been vacant for years. It’s called passive income.”
“It’s called my fucking home. And you sold Dad’s plane? What the hell!”
“I was paying thousands of dollars a month to rent a hangar to keep an unused plane.”
“I!” I seethed.
“Excuse me?”
“You said you were paying, but I am the one who was paying thousands of dollars each month to hold on to something of my father’s.”