I handed the phone back to Rae and pushed my chair back, its wheels creaking over the uneven wood floor. Obviously, I’d given Gage too much credit for keeping an eye on Charlotte. I’d have to have a little chat with him about making sure she wasn’t eavesdropping on things she shouldn’t be.
“You’re not even going to deny you’ve been keeping something from me?”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”
“When?” Rae demanded.
When indeed? Instead of answering a question I didn’t have a concrete answer for, instead I deflected. “I made an executive decision and maybe you think it was the wrong one, but I stand by it.”
“Stand by what?” she asked, flinging her arms wide and pacing. “I don’t even know what you’re keeping from me.”
I hadn’t filled Rae in on what Staufferson had relayed because I didn’t know what good it would do having her know that a fucking psycho had broken into her supposedly secured house and jizzed all over the place.
But now that she knew there’d been a complication, she deserved to know what it was. I notched my head toward the couch. “You’ll want to sit for this.”
“No thank you, I’ll stand.” She crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
I ran my hand through my hair with a frustrated sigh. God, I hated this part of the job. Diplomats and businessmen who didn’t care about the details of their protection were much more my style. All they wanted to know was that I was taking care of whatever they’d hired me to do. But Rae? Not her. She wanted to know every minor detail about her case and maybe that was her right as the client, but she should be getting those updates from her manager or from the police. I was just the protection as far as I was concerned.
That’s bullshit and you know it, a more reasonable part of my brain argued.
And yeah, I did know it. Which is why I said, “Staufferson called yesterday with an update.”
“I thought you said those calls happened every Monday and Friday at three o’clock unless there was new information worth sharing.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“Oh, right.”
I linked my fingers and rested my palms flat against my stomach. “The cops are still on the lookout for this guy, but they’re stretched thin and can’t devote the necessary resources to case. You really should talk to Dermott about letting us take over everything.”
“Tell me what happened first.”
“Look Rae, can’t you just accept that we’re keeping you safe and you don’t need to know the particulars? You really don’t want to know what’s going on. Trust me, just let it go.”
Rae canted her head and chewed her lip. Her eyes studied me and a myriad of emotions passed over her face. I watched them all as she came to her decision—anger, frustration, worry, reluctance, hesitancy, then resolve—and knew I’d lost.
Without her having to say so, I rested my forearms on my thighs and started talking. “Your stalker broke into your house the day before yesterday.”
“How’d he get inside?” she asked with a mixture of shock and incredulity. “Staufferson said they’d placed a patrol car outside my gates?”
“That was a couple of weeks ago, Rae. When this asshole went quiet for awhile, they reassigned the team to a more pressing case. Los Angeles is a big place, and there are a lot of murders to investigate. I’m afraid your stalker isn’t high on their list of priorities right now.”
“Fuck,” she whispered and then swiped her hand across her mouth, as if to wipe away the distaste of her home being violated. And then her eyes started watering.
“And that right there is why I decided not to tell you,” I said, pointing at her. “You’re safe out here with me, and besides there’s nothing you can do back in L.A. Now you’re terrified all over again and for no reason.”
Rae’s eyes brimmed with tears. When our gazes locked, I hardened my heart against her disquiet. “Charlotte mentioned something about my bed. What happened Ash?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Rae glanced away and chewed on her thumbnail. “Yes, I want to know,” she finally answered.
Ah fuck. I’d hoped she’d say no, that her shock at having him inside her home was enough.
Quickly, I considered how best to explain what had happened. I could coddle her and treat her like a fragile woman who couldn’t handle the truth, but my gut told me that would be wrong. I could try to ease some of her distress by only giving her a general feel for what had transpired, but that left a bad taste in my mouth, too. She’d pressed me to tell her. And maybe that pressing is what led to me deciding to give her the unvarnished truth, but whatever it was, I decided she needed to know exactly what she was up against. Maybe then she’d take my recommendations to hire McClintock to take over the whole operation seriously. Because obviously, the cops were in way over their heads.
Nodding, I clasped my hands and leaned back in my chair. Then, using cold, precise language I’d use with my other clients, I brought her up to speed. “He masturbated in your bed. Multiple times. His cum was everywhere. From the amount of it, he was in there for quite awhile. Staufferson figures at least two days.”
When Rae’s knees gave out and she stumbled backward, I shot out of my chair to catch her. Hefting her into my arms I set her on the sofa. Dropping into a crouch, I held her cold hands in mine. “Do you understand now why I kept it from you?”
Rae stared forward vacantly, not really seeing me, while I continued rubbing her knuckles, trying to make her feel safe. Eventually she blinked and her eyes re-focused and then flashed with resignation. “I guess this means we can rule out one of Ford’s fans, doesn’t it?”
“Most likely,” I agreed dispassionately as I squeezed into the small space next to her and wrapped her in my arms, my hand resting on the exposed skin where her neck met her shoulder. “It would be so much easier if it had been.” I hesitated to continue, and I couldn’t say why. But then I swallowed deep, and pushed the words out. “Does the name Chip Noones mean anything to you?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “No, why? Should it?”
Thank Christ, I thought, a wave of relief coursing through me. When Staufferson had told me they’d ID’d him through the DNA he’d left behind, the first thing that had jumped to mind was that he was one of Rae’s former lovers; that maybe he was a jealous ex out for revenge. Or worse. That he was one of the many random guys she’d fucked and moved on from without so much as a backward glance. Someone like me, but broken. Or at least broken in different, disturbing ways.
For all the shit I’d been through with Sonia, I didn’t think any less of women. In fact, I considered myself a feminist, so I was generally fine with Rae’s past—I would have been a hypocrite otherwise—but every so often I’d get these unbidden flashes of her with one of them and I’d want to break something. As much as Gage had warned me about Rae’s history, I didn’t begrudge her for it. What she’d been through had made her who she was today, and that was a strong, kick ass woman I couldn’t get enough of.
Still, I sometimes struggled with the knowledge that there were random men out there who knew the sounds she made just before she came, or guys whose hair she’d twined her fingers through as they feasted on her pussy. I didn’t expect Rae to have been a lily-white virgin when we met, but I was a man. As a gender, we were hardwired to be pretty fucking backward about that shit. I blamed our caveman ancestors and a serious lack of evolution. But that was some reflection for another time. Now, I could rest easy knowing Noones didn’t fall into that category. The question was, why was he after her then?
“From what Staufferson said, Noones used to work at your label but they let him go a couple of months back for an undisclosed incident. It was his semen they found in your house.”
“What?” Rae’s eyes went wide and all the blood drained from her face. “They know who it was and they haven’t arrested him yet?”
I shook my head and tried to ma
sk my own frustration and rage. She didn’t need me flying off the deep end too. “Unfortunately, he’s gone missing. The police went to his last known address, but all they found was an empty apartment and an angry landlord. They’ve put out an APB on his car, but it hasn’t turned up. He’s in the wind, Rae.”
“Why would he …” She took a huge gulp of air and let it out in a slow gust. “Why is he doing this to me?”
“I wish I knew.” Since we’d come this far, I decided to give it to her straight. All of it. “But this has all the markings of a predator. Rae. What he did—not just breaking into your house, but defiling your bed too—he wants to remind you that he’s out there, waiting. Everything has been kept hush-hush, but he wants you to be rattled. As far as everyone knows, you’re in England to record your album. And while that’s partially true, what is also true is that you’re on the run, trying to get away from him. Even with a supposed ocean separating you, he wants you to know can still reach you. He wants you to know you’re not safe, that he can get to you anytime he wants. He gets off on your fear. Literally”
Rae’s face crumpled with hopelessness and I held her tight against me. As she sobbed into my chest, I swiped my hand over her back, giving her the only comfort I knew how. Her situation was frightening as fuck—I knew that, truly—but I didn’t want her to be afraid. When she was with me, I wanted her to feel protected and safe from harm. Which meant as long as that asshole was out there, she wasn’t going back to L.A. Even if it took the police forever to catch the prick, I’d give my life to make sure he never got close to her.
The moment he’d spent his load all over her bed—put his seed where my woman slept—the rules of the game had changed. Fuck it. The rules hadn’t changed—they’d flown right out the window. I didn’t care anymore about how things were supposed to work, what steps the police said needed to be taken. My only concern was making sure this animal was put down.
Later, once Rae calmed down and fell asleep, I’d put in a call to some guys I knew who worked off the books—guys who’d turned mercenary after they’d come home from the war and hadn’t been able to let go of their thirst for death and destruction. Those motherfuckers over at Triad were some of the craziest assholes I’d ever met but I owed one of them my life. The other two owed me theirs. They’d do what the police couldn’t. Whatever it took, Noones was a dead man.
But first, I needed to take care of Rae. “You’re safe here. I promise.”
Once she cried herself out, she leaned away and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Nothing, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. This guy is a sick fuck.”
“I’m so tired of it all. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Anger steeling her spine, she sat up straight. “When am I going to catch a goddamned break?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m not the best person to give you a pep talk about things turning up roses. I’m a miserable son of a bitch, in case you haven’t figured that out already.”
She laughed and my chest constricted. I hated seeing her cry, but more than that, I loved being the reason for her smiles. I didn’t know what this was between us—where it was going or how it would end—but I knew I was in deep with Rae Griffin. I hadn’t felt like this about anyone since Sonia, and the scariest part of that realization was that unlike my first love, Rae could actually be mine. We had the possibility of a real future together. All I had to do was make sure she never found out about my past, never learned about the man I used to be.
That’s no way to build a future, my conscience scolded.
Unfortunately, it was the only way I knew, because the second Rae found out what I’d done was the second she’d walk away from me … and I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I leaned close and swiped the remaining tear tracks from her cheeks. Kissed them away, and then savored her lips and sucked on her tongue.
This woman, what she did to me.
“Let me make you feel better,” I whispered against her neck as I trailed my hands over her body, skating over her breasts, and down around her hip. Pulling her into my lap, I worshipped her with my mouth until she shivered and turned to putty in my hands. “Let me fuck you until you forget everything except how good my dick feels inside of you. Lose yourself in me Rae.”
Her arms went around my neck and she returned my kiss with intense need, ground herself against my hardening cock, mewled into my mouth. “Make me forget, Ash,” she whispered. “Fuck me until I forget.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rae
For the next several days my life centered on two things only: sex and music. And for as good as it was, there were moments when it was hard to ignore the parallels to my old life—how back then sex and music had been the only things I’d cared about too. But it felt different this time, with Ash by my side.
And yet, for all the time we spent exploring each other’s bodies, we hadn’t taken the time to discuss our deepening bond. Aside from the fact that I knew Ash would do everything in his power to keep me safe, I didn’t know how he felt about me. He was such a closed book most of the time, that I could only make assumptions. But after he’d leave my bed, or I’d leave his, I’d lay there wondering if he wanted more? Or when we’d go our separate ways during the day, I’d stare out the window watching him walk the property and torture myself asking if he was thinking about me too. At times, it felt like I was living with a stranger and not my lover.
My lover. Did people still say that? And if not, what did you call the person you were having sex with on the regular, sharing a home with, but didn’t really know? Was there a precedent for this I could reference? Who had the manual? I supposed it was time for a frank and honest discussion. In the meantime, I’d go back to thinking of him as simply my bodyguard. One I just happened to be fucking. I just wanted some clarity, was all. I wasn’t bitter. I understood he had a job to do, and I didn’t begrudge him that … especially since I had a job of my own to do as well.
And speaking of my job, I’d spent the last twenty-four hours holed up in Ash’s studio futzing around with the final sixteen songs I’d selected for my album. I’d never intended to perform any of them—much less acoustically—so there were a number of kinks to work out with my melodies and harmonies, especially since there wouldn’t actually be any harmonies without background singers to support me. I’d once heard that Kelly Clarkson did her own backing vocals on her first album, and I wondered how that would work. I made a note for Rocky to reach out to her people to see if we could set up a time to talk through the particulars. I’d met Kelly in passing a few times and she was the sweetest, most down to earth performer I’d ever come across. She really was as nice in person as she appeared on TV, something all too rare in our business.
In the meantime, I put my head down and went back to tinkering. With just my voice and my trusty guitar to give life to my words, each song needed to stand on its own. Like Kelly, I’d gotten my start by winning a singing competition, so there was no question my voice was up to the challenge, but it’d been a long time since I’d been so exposed—both emotionally and vocally. I’d grown used to having my two regular backup singers with me on stage and in the studio.
And now, between my isolation and the reason why for this album, I felt almost naked. Exposed in a way I’d never been before. The sheer emotion I’d have to dredge up to deliver something of this magnitude would require me to re-live some of the worst periods of my life, leaving me scraped bloody and raw. In truth, I was already there. The last couple of days I’d let my worries get to me, and I’d become an agitated mess, filled with jittery anticipation. From past experience, I knew it would only going to get worse once I started recording.
Needing to work through some of my excess energy, I set my guitar aside and paced the darkened room, my body feeling itchy and twitchy, like I was coming out of my skin. Hugging my arms across my middle, I rubbed my hands up and down m
y bare skin and tried to push the feeling away. Unfortunately, the more I fought it, the worse my anxiety grew.
I hated feeling out of control, not having a say in my own destiny.
I liked to think I’d done a fairly decent job of not freaking out that someone wanted to kill me, but alone in the studio with nothing but my thoughts for company, the fear started to creep in, so I did what I always did when I needed to escape: I wrote. Grabbing my notebook, I started scribbling the first things that came to mind.
Memories tug at the strings of my heart
and remind me what used to be. (What used to be.)
I’m not that same woman anymore
but that won’t make it stop.
It won’t stop.
I’m looking out at a sea of the unknown
and battling against waves
that threaten to pull me under. (Pull me under.)
I look for solace and stability
built on a house of cards
that is only going to tumble. (Going to tumble.)
Down, down, down
So I look to you
to be my shelter.
To protect me.
But you can’t be that man.
No one can be that man.
Because the only one who can save me
is me.
I’m the only one who can save me. (Save me.)
Balancing the notepad next to me, I reached for my guitar and plucked out the notes I heard in my head. I didn’t know how long I’d been at it when a knock startled me out of my zone.
“You got a minute?” Ash asked, leaning casually against the doorway.
My belly fluttered at his sudden appearance, and I smiled in his direction. I set my guitar aside and gestured for him to take a seat. “I’ve got all the time in the world these days. What’s up?”
“I just got off the phone with Rocky and Detective Staufferson, and I wanted to give you an update.”
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