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Ashes to Ashes

Page 3

by Rebecca Norinne


  “So, you’re Gage and McClintock owns the company. Do you all go by one name? Is this like a Bond thing?” Charlotte asked.

  “It’s not a Bond thing,” Gage grunted.

  Charlotte pushed off the wall and stood next to him. “So, you’re not all super-secret spies then?” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I’m going to guess that means you all just have really shitty names.”

  I don’t know what she saw on Gage’s face, but whatever it was, delighted her. “Ooh, that’s it, isn’t it? Don’t tell me. I want to guess!” She cocked her hip and patted her lips. “Aloisious?” she threw out and when he didn’t respond, Charlotte added another ridiculous name, and then another until, miraculously, Gage chuckled. “Francis? Wolfgang? Lancelot? Orville? Surely not Reddenbacher!”

  “Julian,” he finally admitted with a shake of his head. From behind, I could see the slight shifting of back muscles that indicated he was trying hard to hold in a laugh.

  “Well, Julian Gage, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte Jones.” She stuck her hand out to shake, and he eyed it like it was laced with explosives—or something worse.

  For a second, I thought Gage wasn’t going to take it, but then he did and the awkward moment passed. “Nice to meet you Miss Jones,” he replied as the elevator came to a stop.

  When the door opened, he pulled his hand from hers and stepped aside to let me pass. I shot him an apologetic smile and Gage smirked, then dragged his blue eyes to my best friend. The look he gave her was one of exasperation, amusement, and … heat.

  Interesting.

  “Warsaw will take it from here,” he said as he moved back into the recesses of the elevator and the doors closed, ending our brief time with Julian Gage.

  “Let me guess,” Charlotte said, eyeing the new man. Like Gage, he wore a black suit paired with a crisp, black button down and a black tie. “Your last name is Warsaw?”

  But unlike Gage, Warsaw was much more forthcoming with his smiles—and with information. He flashed us a dimpled grin and his brilliant white teeth stood out in stark contrast to his mocha skin. “No ma’am, I was born there. My daddy was a diplomat and my mama his next-door neighbor. The rest, as they say, is history. Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to meet Mr. McClintock. Your manager is already with him,” he said, catching my eye.

  “So, it is Mr. McClintock,” Charlotte whispered triumphantly as we were led to a glass-enclosed conference room.

  I was beginning to form a definitive opinion about Mr. McClintock’s bare bones aesthetics. His men wore head to toe black, while the room we were meeting in was like a giant glass box—glass walls, glass windows, shiny glass table … even the whiteboard was made of glass! And don’t get me started on the giant crystal sculpture sitting in the corner of the room. I did not envy his cleaning lady.

  When Charlotte and I entered, Rocky and the man next to him stood to attention. Surprise, surprise—another black suit.

  “Hello Ms. Griffin,” he said, extending his hand over the table. “I’m Dermott McClintock.”

  “Nice to meet you Mr. McClintock, but please, call me Rae.”

  I settled in my chair and he did the same. “Fine, but only if you agree to drop the mister.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Rocky filled me in on your situation and I want to assure you we don’t take these threats lightly. Unfortunately, celebrity stalking has become all too common. Personally, I think social media plays a large part in these behaviors—twenty-four seven access to your favorite stars doesn’t sit well on some personalities—but regardless of why people develop these fixations, we work with our clients to make sure they don’t impact your life any more than they already have.”

  “Thank you.” The last time I’d had a security detail, I hadn’t been involved in the process. Now, I wasn’t sure what sort of role I was supposed to play. Did I just sit here and nod? For want of knowing, that’s what I did.

  “I have a team at your house now going over it with a fine-toothed comb, looking for details the police might have missed. While Detective Staufferson will want to catch whoever is behind this, it’s my experience his department doesn’t have the best resources at their disposal. It’s nothing against him—Jason is a fine, honorable man—but budgets can only stretch so far. On the other hand, we have access to all of the latest and most innovative technologies on the market—and off. Through this, my team is often able to uncover evidence that would otherwise go overlooked.”

  To my surprise, Charlotte went from a giggling companion to a bulldog in the blink of an eye. “That’s great, but we don’t really need a rehash of your qualifications. You’ve been hired because we already know all that. What we need is your assurance that you can keep Rae safe, that you’ll find who is behind these threats and put a stop to it.”

  “Charlotte,” I said, laying my hand on her arm to calm her. “I’m sure he was going to get to that. Why don’t you let him finish?”

  Charlotte sat back and crossed her arms. “Fine.” Then, under her breath she muttered, “Sorry.” She hated apologizing more than anyone else I knew; the fact that she’d done so, even if it came out sounding half-hearted, meant it was genuine.

  “Please, go on,” I encouraged the man who’d be responsible for my safety for the foreseeable future. “I’d like to know what the plan is.”

  McClintock shuffled some papers, then cleared his throat and met my stare. “Surveillance is only one part of the equation. An important one, yes, but all the surveillance in the world doesn’t matter if you don’t also have protection. Rocky and I have spent the last hour putting a plan in place that we both think you can live with. Starting tonight, you and Charlotte will stay at the apartment upstairs—”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Just a minute, Rae. Before you blow your top,” Rocky interjected, “I’ve already checked it out, and this place is nicer than most hotels you’ve stayed in while on the road. It’s certainly a damn sight nicer than your tour bus. You’ll be comfortable here until we can move you to the safe house.”

  Chills ran down the back of my neck and the hair on my arms stood at attention. “The safe house?” I squeaked.

  McClintock took control of the conversation. “You will be flown by private jet, accompanied by your personal guard, to a safe house on Monday. That gives us a few days to prepare it for your arrival. This particular one comes equipped with a small recording studio. Rocky was very explicit about that requirement.

  “Now, Ms. Jones,” McClintock continued, turning to Charlotte, “while you haven’t been threatened directly, whoever is after Ms. Griffin knows how close the two of you are. No one wants to take any chances with your safety.” He cleared his throat again. “While this isn’t what you were expecting, it’s our recommendation that you leave town too—at least for a short while. We’ve assigned you a guard as well. You’ll be placed in a different location.”

  “You can’t do that!” I pushed out of my chair and slapped my palms on the table. “Charlotte and I are a package deal. I can’t live in a house with no one but a goon to keep me company.”

  “I understand why you feel that way,” McClintock answered, his voice laced with sympathy. “But I’m afraid this is non-negotiable, and Rocky has already agreed.”

  “Rocky?” I asked, my eyes finding his guilty ones.

  “It’s harder to protect two people at the same time,” my manager explained. “We don’t know that Charlotte is in danger, but it’s not worth taking the risk. Keeping you both safe is my number one priority, Rae, and I trust McClintock’s team to do that. If this is the best way to accomplish that, we need to go along with it.” I flicked my eyes between the two men who’d already decided my fate, and tried to find a loophole in their logic. And then inspiration struck.

  “If I can’t have Charlotte with me because she’s one too many people to look after, how are you going to have an engineer and a producer to help me record the album I’m supposed to be working on
?” I crossed my arms, satisfied that I’d tripped them up. Except they didn’t look tripped up. They looked smug.

  “You aren’t the first singer we’ve protected, and your particular needs aren’t unknown to us. It just so happens the man who’ll be protecting you is a musician himself. You’ll find him plenty capable of working a soundboard.”

  “Producing an album is more than pushing a few buttons,” I responded belligerently, feeling the noose close tight around my neck. No one could say for certain how long I’d be sequestered with only a guard-slash-musician to keep me company, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be for a day or two. I was a social person who thrived on human interaction. Everything about this sounded miserable.

  “And I promise, you’re in excellent hands in terms of both your safety, and your music.” McClintock pressed a button on the Polycom on the middle of the table. “We’re ready for you,” he said into the speaker.

  I shot daggers at he and Rocky while Charlotte breathed heavily next to me, her knee bouncing up and down as she tried to contain her fury. To the left, a hidden door slid open and when my new bodyguard stepped through, all the air in my lungs escaped in a whoosh. When my legs collapsed and I fell into my chair, the man stopped in his tracks.

  Rocky, oblivious to what he was about to unleash, said, “Rae, this is—”

  “Ash,” I whispered on a strangled moan.

  Had I thought things couldn’t get any worse? This was the pinnacle of disaster. I couldn’t spend god only knew how long with this man!

  McClintock stood, and his eyes bounced between Ash and me. After a few seconds, weary understanding dawned. “I take it you two already know one another?”

  Ash slid into the chair next to his boss. “We met once before, briefly.”

  His voice stern, McClintock peered at his employee. “Is that going to be a problem? Do I need to find someone else to take this job?”

  “No,” was all Ash said.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Positive,” came his brusque response. “I barely know her. It won’t be a problem.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to three and then opened them again. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted at his surety that we could be alone together for days on end without it becoming a problem.

  Ash hadn’t been the last man I’d slept with on my race to the bottom, but he’d been the only one who’d affected me on a deeper level, who had made me think about the choices I was making and the way my life was playing out. I couldn’t remember everything that had transpired between us, but when my hands roamed my skin and I touched myself at night, it was his fingers I imagined caressing all my hidden, secret spots. I hadn’t been with anyone since I’d gotten sober, but one look at him and I was tempted. Very, very tempted.

  Across the table, our eyes locked and then his dropped to my chest. I glanced down and saw that my nipples were hard little buds under my shirt. When I raised my head, he quickly looked away.

  “Rae, are you okay?” Rocky asked, his gaze probing. From the tone of his voice and the worried look on his face, I guessed my manager knew exactly where my path had crossed Ash’s.

  I was a big girl, and if I couldn’t spend time alone with this man then I wasn’t fit for spending time alone anywhere, with anyone. I was stronger than my past, and I would not let it define me.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” I answered with finality. And then to McClintock, “Yes, to everything you’ve proposed. The quicker I disappear, the better chance you have of finding this person. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

  I rolled my chair back and stood. “If you gentleman will excuse us, I’d like some time alone with Charlotte to figure out how this is going to work. After all, she practically runs my life.”

  The three men stood as one. “By all means,” McClintock responded. “My secretary will be by in a minute to take you both up to the penthouse. Rae. Charlotte.” He nodded and then moved toward the door.

  Rocky followed, but to my surprise Ash stayed rooted where he was.

  “Ash, you coming?” McClintock asked.

  Ash blinked, and something that resembled confusion and anger flashed in his eyes. And then in the next moment, his expression shuttered and he followed them out.

  When the door closed, Charlotte came and rested her hands on my shoulders. “That’s him, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice low in case anyone could hear us.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “It is,” I nodded. “I never thought I’d see him again.”

  “You don’t have to do this. We’ll make them assign you someone else.”

  I stepped out from under her palms and shook my head. “I do have to do this. I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, but if I can’t get through this, I’m not strong enough for any of the rest of it—the touring, the talk shows, the awards ceremonies. I feel like he’s some sort of test I need to pass.”

  “There’s too much at risk right now. You have too much stress on your shoulders as it is. You don’t need to add to it, Rae.”

  “Like I said, I don’t think I can explain it—which is a huge problem since words are my bread and butter—but this is something I have to do. I have to put the past behind me, and I think this will help. If it turns out we can’t be in the same room together, fine; we’ll get me a different guard. But I need to know if I’m strong enough.”

  “You’re strong enough for anything,” she answered emphatically.

  “Then this should be a piece of cake,” I replied with a smile that I hoped masked my fear. Because the truth was, I didn’t know if I was strong enough to survive Ash.

  Chapter Four

  Ash

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  I pressed my hands against the wall and took a beat to compose myself. Normally nothing fazed me, but seeing her again rocked my world.

  How in the hell had I missed who she really was? How had we not found her before, given how famous Rae Griffin actually was? After all, it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried, hadn’t pulled Gage in to help with the search. And yet, nothing had come up no matter how many different avenues we’d looked into. It’d been as if she’d just vanished into thin air. Eventually, I’d had to admit that was probably by design.

  I’d given up my search, but I hadn’t forgotten.

  I’d regretted leaving her room that morning. I’d been hungover and in no mood to argue, but later I hadn’t been able to forget the fear I’d sensed radiating off her while she’d told me to fuck right off. She’d squared her shoulders and tried to pretend she hadn’t felt our connection, but afterward—once I’d showered, eaten a healthy breakfast, and had time to think about what had gone down—I’d recognized her behavior for what it truly was: bravado.

  I knew because I’d been in plenty of situations where I’d had to bluff my way through a scenario just to make it out alive. And because I’d been there myself more times than I cared to recount, I recognized belatedly my sad, brown-eyed beauty was fighting a wealth of unknowable demons. She was fighting for her very life.

  In the present, I shook my head to clear these dark thoughts. I didn’t need to go there. I had business to attend to, and I needed to find Gage.

  Searching the hallways for my cousin and best friend, I went over the meeting again. I’d behaved like an asshole, and Rae probably thought I was pissed at her for not telling me who she was that night, but I understood why she hadn’t. I knew better than most why people clung to their anonymity. She hadn’t known the type of man I was or how I’d treat her once the alcohol had left our systems.

  The idea of Rae not being safe—of her fucking some other man and him not taking so kindly to being dismissed as easily as I had—clawed at my gut. For some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t get the picture out of my head of some asshole pushing her up against the wall and taking what he wanted from her body before moving on.

  Fuck.

  I thought I’d gotten her out of my system, but from the w
ay I’d responded to her—the way I was responding right now thinking about her being in danger—I knew I’d been fooling myself. This woman was in my blood, and I didn’t know how to exorcise her. A lesser man might think he could fuck her out of his system, but that was a crock of shit, and anyone who said otherwise was a delusional asshole. You didn’t fuck a woman you wanted and forget about her. It only made the craving worse.

  And yeah, I was suffering.

  The second I’d seen her eyes go wide and her lips part on a gasp, I’d warred with my desire to throw her over my shoulder and march right out of the building. I wasn’t a caveman or anything, but in that moment, there’d been some strong fucking evolutionary imperatives at work.

  This wouldn’t be the first time I’d guarded a celebrity, but it was the only time I’d had a connection to the person beforehand. And our connection? Fuck me, but it was still there. Hell, it might even be worse than it’d been back then. The idea of dragging her up to my place in Oregon and having her all to myself, away from the rest of the world, where I could fuck her every which way I’d ever imagined?

  It had me rock-fucking-hard.

  Which was a problem because this wasn’t just some random woman I’d picked up for a quick fuck and could move on from. I was being paid to protect her, and I didn’t take that responsibility lightly. There were unwritten rules about this sort of thing: you did not touch the person you were guarding—no matter how bad you might want to. And I wanted to touch every perfect inch of her. Again and again and again … until she couldn’t remember her name. Until she forgot who she was and the dangers she faced.

 

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