by Miley Maine
“Miss Stevens?”
Loren looked up at her. “Yes?”
“Your father sent this to you.” The flight attendant handed over a bottle of champagne nestled in a round ice bucket, and Loren placed it on the tray table in front of us.
Loren’s jaw went tight. “Thank you,” she said to the attendant.
“And I really want to tell you that I appreciate what your mother’s done for our unions. I called her office and left a message with an aide,” the flight attendant said.
“I’ll let her know.”
As soon as the attendant was gone, Loren pushed the bucket away from us.
Stevens. Why did that sound familiar?
Susanna Stevens. The Senior Senator for Georgia. Loren was her daughter?
“Senator Stevens is your mother?”
She nodded.
“And your father is Oliver Stevens?” The tycoon who founded Stevens Manufacturing. And her late grandfather had been General Adam Stevens, who’d served on the National Security Council for not one president, but two. And, if I remembered correctly, her mother’s brother was the Attorney General in Georgia.
Christ. Any arousal I’d had drained away. Messing with her was a ticking time bomb. One that would explode right in my face if I wasn’t careful.
“So when you didn’t know how to get through the security, that was because…”
“Because I’ve always flown on a private plane.”
“But you didn’t want to say that.”
“No.” Her voice rose. “Of course not.” She looked around and made an obvious effort to lower her voice to normal. “Because anytime anyone finds that out, they start acting weird, just like you’re doing now.”
“I’m not acting weird.” I wasn’t acting weird. I just needed to get the hell away from her.
“Yes.” She pointed at me. “You are. This was the first time in my life I’d felt normal. Since I was a baby, I’ve always had a bodyguard lurking around, reporting back to my dad. This champagne he sent wasn’t a nice gesture. It was to remind me that he’s still in control. I love my family, but that’s how they are. All of them. They’re like a heavy hand on my shoulder, always pressing down.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, mostly because she was so obviously upset. My parents were still alive, and I visited them in Florida once or twice a year, and called them when I could. My dad had been a plumber and my mom was a school secretary. They’d loved us, but they had five kids. I’d never dealt with any level of interference from my family.
Even after what happened to my sister, they still hadn’t tried to control any of us.
“Don’t be sorry,” Loren said. “Just don’t treat me any different.”
I had to treat her differently. I’d been having fun, bantering back and forth and then boom. I find out she’s off limits, unless I wanted a world of trouble on my doorstep. It sucked for her, but the kids of famous people were always under the microscope -- they showed up in newspaper articles and on celebrity blogs. I might not be undercover, but I didn’t need that kind of spotlight, not with my job. And I sure as hell didn’t want to lead her on.
But I also didn’t want to let her keep ranting while we were on this plane. Any of these rich fuckers all around us could be eavesdropping.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll treat you the same. What were we talking about before your dad so rudely interrupted us with that expensive champagne?”
Her lips twitched. Apparently her sunny spirit was hard to suppress. Even when she wanted to.
“I see it,” I said.
“See what?”
“I think you’re about to smile.”
She couldn’t hold it back any more. Her grin broke through her melancholy, and my body warmed up all over.
“We were talking about my dating life, and how I could hook up,” she announced. I was glad to see that all of the life had come back into her eyes. But I really did not want to discuss this topic.
“Correction,” I said. “We were discussing how dating in a place where you don’t know anyone is dangerous.”
“Don't patronize me. I don’t need another bodyguard. I want you to be my friend.”
“Friends tell each other the truth,” I said. And the truth was that Loren was unique. She had an energy that drew me in, and she was gorgeous. Not many men would pass up the opportunity to take her home. Without her bodyguard around, other men would try to take advantage of her.
I just had to convince her not to take any crazy risks before we got off the plane in Seattle and I never saw her cute smile again.
Chapter Six
Loren
The plane ride to Anchorage was a lot less fun than the one to Seattle had been. Because now that Jackson knew who I was, or rather who my family was, he had changed the way he talked to me. He was much more reserved in his comments, and a lot less friendly.
I should have known that would happen. I’d tried to stave it off as long as I could, but no matter what I did, the result was always the same.
When someone found out about my powerful family, they always treated me differently. Some got freaked out like Jackson had. Others wanted jobs or favors. No one ever saw me anymore.
Today, I’d had several blissful hours where Jackson had flirted with me, and teased me, just like he would have with anyone. But as soon as he found out -- thanks to my father’s meddling -- it ended.
And I was fucking pissed about it. As the plane taxied to a stop, I gripped the straps of my purse. After Jackson stopped chatting with me, the plane felt like a cage. I was trapped, and my skin was crawling with the need to get off the plane and get away from him.
Jackson got up first, and he reached down to pick up my heavy photography bag.
“Don’t.”
“Loren. Let me carry it for you.”
“Let go of it.”
He held his hands up. “Fine.”
“Thank you for letting me take your picture. And thank you for treating me like a normal person,” I said. I didn’t care if the tone of my voice was bitter. “For the three hours while it lasted.”
“Loren--”
“Don’t. Whatever you have to say, it won’t help. At least I know not to get my hopes up again.”
Then we couldn’t talk anymore, because the flight attendant was ushering us off the plane and into the terminal. I did struggle to carry my bag, but I was not going to let him help me. Maybe that was me being stubborn. Maybe I was being stupid. But, I didn’t care.
When we reached the baggage claim area, he touched my elbow. “Do you have any bags here?”
“No.” I gritted my teeth. “No, I don’t have bags. Do you want to know why?”
He looked at me expectantly.
“Because a week ago I packed my clothes for the wedding, and one of my dad’s many employees had shipped it to the hotel for me.” It hadn’t even occurred to me that wasn’t a part of being independent until after it was done. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking. That I’m an idiot. That I take advantage of being wealthy when it’s convenient, even though I complain about it. That it’s a game to me.”
I had packed a few things in my giant purse, like an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush, because I’d had a friend warn me never to leave without a backup plan, in case my flight got delayed and I was stuck in an airport hotel. But that was it. The rest of my luggage was at the wedding venue, waiting for me.
He clenched his jaw. “Listen. Stop beating yourself up. You haven’t hurt anyone by being rich, which is a lot more than some people can say.”
He didn’t understand. I wasn’t even sure if I understood it that well. I was exhausted, and I was flipping out, and I knew it. I needed to get a handle on myself, and I couldn’t do that in a public place. I needed to get the hell out of this airport. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you. For letting me take your picture. And for keeping me company. And for helping me in th
e Atlanta airport.” I held out my hand. “It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your grandfather’s cabin.”
He took my hand in his, but he didn’t shake it. He wrapped my hand in his large ones. “It was a pleasure to meet you Loren. I mean that.”
My throat started to burn. I lowered my bag to the floor and threw my arms around him. “Sorry. I’m a hugger.” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from crying. “It was nice to meet you too.”
His strong arms came up around me. Being wrapped in his strong embrace felt incredible. I never wanted to let it go. But I had to. I was going to pull myself together, and get on with my trip.
I pulled myself away. “Bye Jackson.”
Thirty minutes into my attempt at renting a car, I was beginning to understand why my father hired a driver in every city we visited. The process was far less streamlined than I’d imagined. But finally, after several mishaps, the employee handed me a set of keys and pointed to the garage parking lot where my car was waiting.
I walked through the cars, until I found the row I was looking for. There was a black Nissan style car in the slot. I clicked the key fob, and it beeped. Perfect. I popped the trunk and hefted my massive photography bag inside. As I was closing the trunk, a man came out of nowhere and grabbed my arm.
“Don’t scream.” He pressed something hard into my ribcage.
I gasped, but I didn’t scream. Frozen, I stood completely still.
“Give me your purse,” he said. “And don’t try to lie and say you don’t have money. I see that Hermes label. I know what it costs.”
Shit. I didn’t give a crap about Hermes. The purse had been a gift from my aunt, the one whose daughter was getting married. She loved spending money and telling everyone about it. I kept the purse because it was big and I could stuff all my belongings into it.
My passport and driver’s license were inside, along with my phone. But there was no way I wanted to die for that stuff. “Okay,” I whispered.
“And when you’re done, pop the trunk and we’ll get that bag out too.”
Oh fuck. Not my camera. It could be replaced, but I’d spent the last year getting the exact equipment I liked. But again, I wasn’t going to die over it.
I inched my purse straps down my arm, planning to let him take it when a sudden movement caught my eye. I didn’t hear a sound. Within seconds, I saw movement, and Jackson was behind the guy with one arm around the guy’s throat. Jackson’s other hand was pulling the gun away from the guy.
I dropped my purse to the ground. My knees went weak, and I leaned back against the car. Now Jackson had turned the guy around, making it look like they were hugging. “Hey man, it’s so good to see you,” he said in a really loud voice.
Ah. Security cameras.
“We’re going to sit in the back seat of this car, and we’re going to have a nice talk,” Jackson said. “Do you understand?”
The guy nodded frantically.
“Don’t think about running. You won’t make it far.” Jackson opened the car door and gave the guy a little shove.
Jackson kept his hand on the guy’s arm, but he looked over at me. “Are you okay to hang out there for just a minute?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.” I wasn’t really good, but I would survive.
Jackson studied me for a second then nodded back. He climbed into the backseat of the car and closed the door. I couldn’t hear anything that he said. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Now my hands had started to shake.
Within a few minutes, Jackson opened the car door. He left his hand clamped down on the guy’s shoulder. “If you’ll hand me your phone I’ll call 911.”
“I don’t want to call 911,” I said.
Jackson frowned. “You need to call 911.”
“No. Let him go.”
Jackson tried again. “Loren--”
“No. I don’t. I don’t want this in the headlines. My parents aren’t Hollywood celebrities, but certain news sources will be all over this.” Not to mention that my mother and father would lose their minds.
“Okay,” he said. Jackson crawled back into the car, and they stayed inside for another few minutes. Then the guy got out on the other side. After a quick glance back at me, he took off running.
Nausea washed over me. I felt like I was going to throw up.
Jackson opened the passenger’s side door of his Jeep and pushed me into the seat. He picked my purse up off the pavement and stuck it in between the seats. He pulled the bottle of water we’d gotten on the last flight out of his backpack and handed it to me. “Drink this.” He reached around me and turned the Jeep on, and sent a cold blast of air conditioning right into my face.
The very first time I’d tried to travel on my own, I almost got robbed. At gunpoint.
I would have been, had Jackson not shown up.
I could hear my family now. They’d say that I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I should have never traveled alone, when there’s a perfectly good private jet waiting to take me where I want to go. They’d say this was my fault, for not traveling with the security.
Would I have been more aware of my surroundings if I had grown up without guards? Would I have walked alone into an almost-empty car rental carrying a three-thousand dollar purse?
I knew it wasn’t my fault. If it was someone else, I wouldn't blame her, or make her feel like it was her fault for being the victim, but that didn’t change the fact that I still felt like I could have prevented this if I’d just planned ahead better.
Thank God Jackson had shown up. If I’d been here alone, I don’t know how I’d have coped.
Chapter Seven
Jackson
“You need to call the police.” I’d given the little bastard a piece of my mind, and it was highly unlikely he’d try to steal again soon. He was damned lucky that piece of wood hadn’t really been a gun. He’d be on the goddamned ground right now.
Loren had only thought I let her walk away unprotected. But I could tell how distracted she’d been in the airport. It wasn’t safe for anyone to walk around like that, unaware of their own surroundings. So I’d grabbed my checked backpack as quickly as I could, and I’d rushed after her. I’d spotted her in an instant. She was the one at the car rental counter, renting her car in person.
I’d wondered if she didn’t know about the car rental app because of her privileged family, or if she’d wanted to handle the details face to face with a cashier.
I tucked my hands in my pockets. They were trembling more than hers were, and I didn’t want Loren to see.
I’d held it together in front of her, because that’s what she needed. She didn’t need to see me have a breakdown. When I’d seen that jackass move toward her…
He was lucky I didn’t have my gun loaded yet. I would have happily blown a hole through his head if he’d hurt her in any way.
My breath picked up. I closed my eyes, and counted until I was in control again. I was reliving the worst day of my life all over again.
I’d had a little sister once. She was a lot more serious than Loren -- she’d had to be. The only way out of our poky little town in Florida was through good grades and a decent college. But even though she’d never had a fancy camera, she’d loved to take pictures.
She’d been taken from me, from a piece of shit who’d claimed to love her. She’d tried to walk away. She’d even called me for help when I was at home visiting.
But before I could get to her house, he shot her. That asshole had had a real gun, and he’d threatened my sister with it. She’d run, and tried to get into her car.
I raced down the street, but I was too late. I wasn’t going to let that happen to anyone else. Not if I could help it.
I rolled my hands into fists. Now was not the time for a trip down my memory lane.
Loren still hadn’t answered me. “I’m calling the police,” I said.
“No. Even if he’s arrested, he’ll be back on the streets. He didn’t hurt me, so it’s poi
ntless to even get him arrested.”
“That’s a pretty cynical view,” I said.
“It’s true.”
“I can make a few phone calls,” I said. “I know the Chief of Police up here. We can arrange to have this thug held without bail for a few weeks.” I’d served with the Chief years ago, before he retired from the Rangers.
She shook her head. I could tell she was going to keep resisting, and someone was going to walk out here sooner or later and notice us. I walked around to the other side of the car and sat in the passenger seat. “It’ll scare the shit out of him. Make him rethink doing this again.”
“I do not want any favors. Or any strings pulled,” she said.
“Did you keep his gun?” she asked.
“It wasn’t a gun.”
She closed her eyes. “I fell for it.”
“Hey.” I got right in her face and made her look at my eyes. “You did the right thing. No material possession is worth your life. If someone threatens you because they want some money, give it to them. That was smart.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“I would absolutely hand over my wallet if the alternative was getting shot.”
“I need to get going,” she said.
“You’re not driving anywhere right now.”
“What? You can’t stop me.”
“I can. And I will. I compromised on not calling the police when that thug tried to take your purse. But I’m not going to budge on this one.”
“Jackson. I realize that you just saved me, but you cannot tell me what to do.”
“Watch me. You’re going to return those keys, or hell, you can keep them. But you’re coming with me.”
Her face turned from white, to red.
Before she could protest I shook my head. “I would do the same thing if you were one of my teammates. Even if you were a big strong tough guy, still I wouldn't let you go off alone right now.”
“Your teammates wouldn’t fall apart over this.”