Celebrity Dirt: A Fake Relationship Romantic Suspense Standalone

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “Fuck…fuck!” His booming voice causes me to jump, and I grab at my laptop before it slides off the bed. “How the hell did nobody realize this? Motherfucker!”

  “Money talks. And like you said, since when have politics not been corrupt?”

  Logan’s quiet for some time, deep in thought, then he turns to me. “Vincent has to be using one of the ports, though. It’s his main source of transportation. It always has been.”

  “You said earlier he wants to throw Renaldo off. What if it’s by not using the Calumet Harbor? What if it is that he’s utilizing both? Waterways and freight trains. And what if Calumet is a ghost shipment? We know Mayor Brighton is listed on the board who oversees the Port of Chicago. He can easily make it so it doesn’t show up on the radar ’til the last minute. Which means it can go through any of the ports.”

  “Shit. You’re right. I need to call Bishop back. We need to get a task force to both the harbor and the rail yard to be prepared. Jesus, Addy, I could kiss the fuck out of you right now.” He grabs my cheeks and slams his lips to mine quick and hard, leaving me dizzy. “Be back.”

  “Yeah, uh…cool. Fine. It’s fine. I’m fine. I should go shower.” Yep, shower. I nod to no one since Logan has already up and vanished.

  I grab a clean t-shirt and head to the bathroom. When I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I groan. “Oh god!” I don’t know how some girls make sex hair look good. I look like I fell out of a tree and hit every branch on the way down.

  I throw myself in the shower, trying to wash up, but I can’t stop replaying that last kiss. I’m suddenly flushed again, and I try to wrestle the darn body wash cap open. The bathroom door opens, then the shower door, and Logan, in his naked glory, causes me to drop the bottle. “Oh gosh!”

  “Looks like you could use some assistance.”

  “Yeah—I mean—I was just—”

  “I got you.” His smile has me moving aside to let him in. The water sprays against his back, and he bends down to grab the bottle, squirting the liquid into his large palm. “May I?” I nod, and he lathers his palms. The instant his hands touch my skin, it’s over for me.

  His hands work a bubbly film across my chest, lathering my breasts. My eyes lose their ability to stay open, and I sigh, enjoying the attention. “I won’t let anything happen to you tonight, okay? No matter what, you’re my priority.”

  “Got it. We ride together. We die together. Bad boys for life.” Why am I so awkward?

  “Did you just quote Bad Boys II?”

  I squeeze my eyes tighter. “Nooo…” Why, Addy, why!

  Logan’s sudsy hands work down to my waist until he’s tugging me close to him. “Oh, ’cause if you did, I was going to compliment you on your great taste in action flicks.” His finger nestles under my chin, raising my face, and I open my eyes. His lips tease me, brushing ever so gently against mine. “And then I’d tell you how I love that you make me laugh—something I haven’t done in a long damn time.” He nips at my lower lip. “And I can’t promise you what’s going to happen after this, but for right now, I promise you’re the sweetest little surprise I wasn’t expecting. And damn, do I enjoy you.”

  I’m not sure if his comment is a disappointment or a compliment. It’s hard to tell since he’s kissing me with such passion that I forget we’re about to go head-to-head with a scary villain and hope to live to see tomorrow.

  Once I’m clean from head to toe, Logan shuts off the water. We dry off and venture back to his room to dress. He mistakes my sullen look and pulls me into his arms. “Know that if there was any other way, I’d never put you in this situation. I hate that I don’t know what’s ahead of us. As suspected, Vincent’s going off course. We just have to be prepared.”

  “I told you, it’s fine. I’m not worried.”

  He holds my gaze. “Okay. There’s something else. Seems Chino is suddenly MIA.”

  Just hearing his name sends a chill down my spine. “Do you think Chino told Vincent his suspicions?”

  “I’m not sure. Our unit lost track of him at his place. There’s a tracker on his car, but it hasn’t moved. We assumed he was on foot, but he has yet to pop back up.”

  “What do we do? What if Vincent knows?”

  “He doesn’t. We have his phone tapped, and he hasn’t heard from Chino since before your attack. It’s why he’s calling me in to do this run with him. I’m just not sure what his angle is for bringing you.”

  “Maybe he trusts me. Like you said, he’s enamored with me. Maybe it’s just a power thing.” Logan frowns at the thought, not remotely liking the fact. “But it’s true. I don’t like it any more than you do, but maybe you should just let me help.”

  He’s contemplating. Nope, he looks murderous. Now maybe contemplating it again—

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.” He walks over to his nightstand and pulls out the bottom drawer. When he opens his hand to me, I lean forward to inspect it. It’s so tiny, I’m not even sure what it is. “What exactly am I looking at?”

  “It’s a tracker.”

  “For what?”

  “You. If for any reason things don’t go as planned.”

  “Why wouldn’t they—”

  “I don’t fucking know. Just humor me, okay?” I nod, fighting off my imagination. He kisses me deeply. “Thank you. Now, let’s go so I can yippee ki-yay some motherfuckers.”

  My eyes blossom like it’s Christmas morning. “Did you just quote Die Hard?”

  “I sure did. You’re not the only one who knows their action flicks.”

  I slap him on the chest. “I thought you said you didn’t have a favorite movie?”

  “I don’t. Who can pick just one? So many good ones. Let’s go.”

  “I think I’ve met my person, Logan Broderick.” He kisses me swiftly, and his phone buzzes, stealing the easy smile from his face.

  “Let’s go.”

  Not going to lie. Action flicks are way cooler when you’re sitting on your couch with a large bowl of oversalted popcorn. Living in one is a different story. “Okay, so, one more time?”

  “You complain you don’t feel good and get the fuck out of there. That’s the plan.” His phone goes off, and he checks the caller ID and puts it on speaker. “What you got for me?”

  Agent Bishop’s voice comes over the speaker. “We have a team in place at Calumet Harbor. It’s pretty quiet. If Leoni is having shipments come in tonight, they’re off the radar or not coming by cargo ship.”

  Logan glances my way. “What did you find out about Norfolk Southern and the rail yard?”

  “Your girl is certainly on to something. About forty-seven ago, three semis left a shipping yard in Fort Lauderdale headed to Chicago. Wanna take a guess who the company is? Victor Transportation.” Logan and I share the same knowing expression. “There’s chatter that Vincent intercepted part of Valdez’s containers and those are the ones headed to Chicago. The address Leoni has you going to is a rail yard, one that has a direct line for Norfolk Southern. Our guess, whatever is on those trucks is being put on freight trains.”

  “Dammit!” Logan slams his fist on the steering wheel.

  “What? Why is that a bad thing?” I ask, confused at his sudden anger. “We already knew where they were headed. Now that you have confirmation, we can stop them.”

  “Jake, I want someone to be on stand-by for Addy. I want her out of this as soon as possible.”

  “We have an agent ready to intercept her once she leaves the rail yard. They’ll take her into custody until it’s safe.”

  “I want her—”

  “It’s under control, Broderick. The GPS has those trucks arriving within the next hour. We have a unit en route, but they’re about twenty minutes out. If anything goes wrong, you’re on your own until then.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just get Addy safe.” He disconnects.

  Agent Bishop’s warning doesn’t sit well with me. “Anything goes wrong? Wh
at does that mean, anything? Shouldn’t you just wait for back-up?”

  “Addy, this isn’t the movies.”

  “You’re correct. Everyone lives in the movies. I don’t have a good feeling about this. Let’s just wait. Call Vincent and tell him you got a flat tire or something.”

  Logan snags my hand and squeezes tight. “I’m going to be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re going to be a good girl, right?”

  What? Is he making jokes at a time like this? I roll my eyes. “Yes. Play the damsel and go home. No funny business.”

  He pulls his eyes off the road. “Addy?”

  “I’ll even order pizza, assuming you’ll build up an appetite taking down kingpins and saving the world.”

  “Good girl.” I don’t like that he’s trying to dismiss how dangerous this is. I open my mouth to argue as he takes a right into the shipping yard, but the words don’t come out. It’s completely pitch black. We drive into the yard, crossing over track after railroad track until we’re met by rows of stored shipping containers. “Where is everyone?”

  “I don’t know.” He parks alongside a row of containers. “Let’s go.”

  We climb out, and I hurry over to Logan, gluing myself to his side. The full moon shines bright, acting as our only source of light. A miniature tilt-a-whirl ride of anxiety is spinning round and round in my belly. There’s going to be no problem pretending I’m sick because I’m moments away from barfing on Logan’s shoes. “Logan, I’m not having a good feeling about this. Something seems off.”

  “Same.” He stops and brings me face to face with him. “Listen, I want you to get back in the car and leave.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “Addy, I’m not asking, I’m fucking telling—”

  “There you two love birds are.” Logan whips to the left, and a silhouette appears between two shipping containers. The shadow starts to walk toward us, and Logan draws his gun as Chino comes into view. Logan throws me behind him and aims.

  “How fuckin’ romantic. But I’ve already gotten a taste. Not my type. Can’t say the same for others.” Chino’s disgusting laugh churns my stomach. I’m for sure going to vomit.

  Logan cocks his gun. “You’re dead motherfucker—”

  “Enough.” We all turn to the voice in the distance as Vincent appears out of the shadows, Emilio at his side.

  Chino walks past us and doesn’t miss the opportunity to grab his junk and blow me a kiss. “Miss me?” he sneers. I snuggle up so close to Logan, I’m practically climbing his leg.

  “You’re late,” Vincent snaps, looking less than pleased.

  “My girl took forever getting ready. What’s the rush with the shipment? Thought Renaldo wasn’t ready ’til tomorrow?”

  “He won’t be needed for this one.” I sense the displeasure in Vincent, his glare trailing down to where Logan’s hand is fondling my butt. They linger too long before slithering up when l I make the mistake of allowing eye contact. My body tenses, and I rip my gaze from his, fixing my attention anywhere else. The faint glimmer from the night’s sky illuminates the container behind Vincent, and I see it. Valouro. The same name as the one on the shipping containers on those papers. My eyes widen. Holy shit. The containers are already here.

  “Something wrong, Atticus?” My eyes shift back to Vincent as I try to mask my surprise. Logan squeezes too tight, bringing me back.

  “Oh! Uh, no. Just not feeling well.” I turn to Logan. “Baby, I feel super sick. I think I have to sit this one out.” I cover my stomach.

  “Just take my car. I’ll be a while.” Logan shoves his keys at me.

  “Nonsense.” We both look in Vincent’s direction. “Atticus, walk with me.” My legs are frozen to the ground. The way he emphasizes my full name sends a jolt of unease down my spine. If only I could read minds and know what Logan wants me to do. No funny business, Addy. No funny business.

  “Have you lost interest in my business?”

  “Of course not.” Ouch! Logan’s nails dig into my hip. “I’m actually feeling better. So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  Vincent releases a low chuckle as he extends his hand out to me. “Come, my little protégé. Walk with me.”

  I have to rip myself out of Logan’s death grip. He said no funny business, but this can help buy us some time. The longer I stall Vincent, the more time it will allow for his backup to get here and save us all. Logan grabs my bicep, thrusting me back toward him. He pulls me in for a kiss, then turns his back to Vincent. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he murmurs into my mouth, fisting my hair.

  I throw my arms around him, deepening our kiss. “The containers are already here. Valouro.” That’s all I get out before Vincent clears his throat in annoyance. I pull away. “Relax, babe.”

  I slap a quick kiss to his frowning lips and turn away, accepting Vincent’s arm. “So, what is this place? What are all these containers for?”

  “Curious little thing, aren’t you? You really do live up to your namesake.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask as he escorts us farther into the rail yard, Logan and Emilio trailing behind.

  “You’d make a great lawyer. So many questions. Your intelligence. Exemplary behavior.”

  As we start walking away from Logan, my cool begins to crack. “I didn’t realize you were familiar with the book.”

  Vincent laughs again. “Do you think I don’t know how to read? I was a child once myself—”

  “Oh my god, no! I was just—”

  “Relax, you haven’t offended me. I could relate to the story as well. To Atticus, a man who wanted equality in this world.” I highly doubt fighting for civil rights and selling girls is the same thing. “You look as if you don’t believe me.”

  I sure as heck don’t. “No. It’s just…I don’t completely see what’s so equally justifiable about what you do.”

  “‘You never really understand a person until you consider things from their point of view. Until you climb into their skin and walk around in it.’ Do you remember that line? Very influential speech Atticus made. It always stuck with me. It taught me to view matters from the perspective of the indigent. To know how it feels to want something so bad and have the power to provide it.”

  My stomach knots at his twisted analogy. I may hate my name, but I know why my parents gave it to me. They wanted me to always remember to stand up for what I believe in. To be honest and accept others. Follow the moral guidelines. That’s power. “So, you’re admitting you’re the evil destroying innocence? Because that’s what the book is truly about—the evil in this world overtaking humanity.”

  Vincent stops walking, and I regret ever opening my mouth. “Atticus, innocence is only a state of being. Something we’re born with. Over time, it’s destroyed, and two things are left: cunning or naïveté. Which describes you?”

  Neither. I’m strong and brave. I’m honorable and compassionate. I’m nothing like you.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “No—I…” I’m done playing this game. “My stomach is bothering me again. I should get home.” I look over my shoulder to steal a glance at Logan, but Vincent grabs my arm, his rough grip threatening. His phone buzzes, and without releasing me, he takes the call.

  “Interesting. Yes. As we discussed.” There’s a shift in the air. He hangs up and slides his phone into the breast pocket of his suitcoat. “Change of plans. There’s an important matter I need to attend to.” He turns to Logan. “Justice, I want you and Emilio to check the entire perimeter. We have some guests arriving shortly, and I don’t want any issues. When they get here, send me a text, and I’ll give you further instruction.”

  “You got it. Addy, let’s—”

  “I’ll take her home.”

  My eyes shift to Logan, waiting for him to give me a sign of what I should do.

  He waves Vincent off. “I wouldn’t want you to deal with her. She gets really fucking whiny when she doesn’t feel—”


  “You’ll be here for hours. End of discussion. Report back when it’s been handled.” He turns to me, his casual smile in place. “Shall we get you home?”

  I peer over at Logan and hate that his calm composure is slipping. “It’s fine,” I say, forcing an easy-going smile to take shape. “Just hurry home, okay?”

  He’s going to fight this. Confliction shines in his eyes, and Vincent is starting to catch on. “Seriously, stop being so clingy. I’ll be fine.” I inhale a slow breath and turn to Vincent. “Ready?”

  The satisfaction shimmering in his smug gaze unnerves me. He wraps his arm around my waist, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from wrestling out of his disgusting hold.

  We walk past Logan, and the look in his eyes guts me. Anger, stress, helplessness. I want to turn around so bad and tell him I’m sorry. I just want to help and to do what’s best. And right now, maybe being compliant is that? It’s not like this is some suicide mission. It’s just a ride home. Right? Hello? Inner voice? Awesome. Just when I need support the most. Maybe I shouldn’t have turned all Starsky and Hutch and taken the reins on this. Yep. Stupid Addy.

  Too bad by the time I come to my senses, we’re already inside Vincent’s town car, pulling away.

  Vincent startles me when his hand slithers up my thigh. He halts midway and squeezes. My stomach churns, and I fight not to pull away from his touch. But just as fast as it came, his hand is gone. He captures my wrist, inspecting the bandage.

  “What happened?”

  “It’s nothing. I fell.”

  Seconds tick by in uncomfortable silence before he replies. “You should be more careful.” His beady eyes unsettle me. I smile overly wide and turn to the window to gather myself. Breathe, Addy. You can do this. Play nice, and before too long, you’ll be in the safety of Logan’s home—

  “Uh, where are we going? Don’t we want to get on the highway toward the—”

  “We’re making a stop at my home.”

  “Oh yeah?” I choke on my own saliva.

  “As I said before. Some unexpected business needs to be taken care of.”