by Jamie Howard
His other hand cupped my cheek, fingertips tracing absently along my skin. I leaned into it, my eyes asking the questions I didn’t want to put into words—whether he never thought it was even possible or whether he thought no one would ever want to take a chance on him again.
He shook his head. “Any of it.”
“I—”
We both froze as the door creaked open, followed by footsteps and a feminine giggle.
I immediately dropped my head into the crook of Felix’s neck, letting my hair hide my face. “Who is that?” I mumbled against his throat.
“Has to be Gavin,” he whispered back, arms tensing around me. “Don’t you dare move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I peeked through the curtain of my hair, and I was just able to make out a guy and not one, not two, but three women—two blondes and a brunette. Gavin stumbled to a halt, his face nearly cracking in half from the wide smile that split it. All he said was, “Hell yeah,” before throwing his arms around the shoulders of two of the women, and ushering them all into his bedroom.
I pulled back. “Big night for him?”
Felix snorted. “Just a regular night for Gavin.”
Chapter 12: Juliet
I was late. Not obnoxiously late, only twenty minutes, but still. I really had to learn how to insert the word no into my vocabulary. Or Ally did. One of us needed to stop agreeing to things. A month off wasn’t that much to ask for, was it?
Biting back a sigh, I lifted my shoulders a little higher so my scarf covered more of my ears. Even for November it was cold, the wind stinging my cheeks, my hair desperately trying to escape the messy knot I’d tied it in. I huddled deeper into my jacket, following directly in the path one of my bodyguards was leaving for me.
Luckily today they were dressed like regular human beings—no stiff suits that screamed security. If you weren’t paying that close of attention, you might not notice the way they sandwiched me between them. And since they were both wearing dark sunglasses, no one could see the way they continually inspected our surroundings. I never stopped searching either, my gaze constantly roaming over the myriad faces we passed, just waiting to see the one that made fear one of my constant companions.
He stopped under a black lacquer sign being tossed about in the wind, the gold script reading The Blackbird. With a hand signal at his back, he popped through the door and reappeared a minute later. “All clear.”
“Thank you.”
I squeezed past him into the warmth of the room, immediately shedding my hat and glasses, unwinding my scarf and unbuttoning my coat. A racket sounded from the small stage, like a tribe of third graders were playing with instruments rather than actual professionals.
“Felix, would you fucking be quiet for a second. I’m trying to tune this damn guitar.” I squinted as I walked closer and was able to identify that particular voice as Ian’s.
“I’m just testing out my triggers. Calm your tits, dude.” Felix rolled his eyes.
The guys still hadn’t noticed me; they were completely absorbed in themselves, but the two women sitting at a table in the middle of the room had both looked up and taken note. The brunette gave me a quick wave and pointed to the empty chair on her right.
The blonde stood as I reached the table, offering me a hand. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears, the crisp suit she was wearing making it look like she’d stepped right out of a board meeting. “Bianca Easton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I bit my lip and tried not to wince as she shook my hand so hard my knuckles ground together. “Juliet St. Clair.” I hid my hand behind my back to shake it out. “You’re Senator Easton’s daughter?”
Her smile tightened at the corners, her face staying perfectly blank. “That’s right.”
Ah, a sore spot. I carefully let that little string of conversation unravel and turned to my left, holding out my hand and hoping it wasn’t about to get crushed again. “And you are?”
“Rachel.” She pumped my hand gently, her smile hitting every corner of her face. “I promised Felix I wouldn’t fangirl all over you, but I just want to say that I love your movies.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m so happy you’re here. Not for me, for Felix.”
I laughed and lowered myself into the chair next to her, dropping my stuff into the empty one next to me. “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely.” She glanced toward the stage. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen him looking this relaxed.”
“Have you known him a long time?” I surreptitiously gave her the once-over, wondering just how well she knew Felix. Not that it was that big of a deal; we all had our pasts, but it was still good to know if you were having small talk with an ex sooner rather than later. That could get ugly in a heartbeat.
“Oh, right.” She huffed out a laugh. “So I grew up with Ian and Ben. I’ve known them forever. They joined up with Felix and Gavin in college and that is a long story very, very short.” Glancing at Bianca, she quickly added on, “And Bianca’s with Ian. They’ve been dating for . . . a year?”
An actual, genuine smile swept across Bianca’s face, obliterating her stiff expression from before. “A little longer than a year.”
I mentally tried to fit all the puzzle pieces together—Ian was with Bianca, Felix was with me, obviously, Gavin was busy screwing his way through the city’s female population, which left Ben.
“So does that mean you and Ben . . . ?” I waggled a finger between them.
Rachel turned a shade of red I wasn’t even aware was possible on a human face. Then again, she had that kind of pale and flawless complexion that made it a bitch to hide your emotions.
Bianca snorted and shook her head at Rachel. “Man, does she have you pegged.”
And Rachel’s face got impossibly redder.
I laid a hand on Rachel’s arm, her gray sweater soft beneath my fingertips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring anything up. It was just a process of elimination.”
She blew out a breath. “It’s not that big of a deal. Just water under the bridge.”
Bianca piped up. “And on the bridge and over the bridge and—”
“Oh my God. When did you become such a wiseass?”
“If it helps,” I said. “He’s been watching you pretty much the entire time I’ve been here.”
Rachel and Bianca both whipped their heads toward the stage, which, for Bianca, meant doing a full one-eighty in her chair. Ben immediately ducked his head to his guitar, but not quick enough that they both didn’t get a brief glimpse of what I was talking about.
From its spot on the table, my phone started vibrating, Ally’s name flashing across the screen. I frowned at it and silenced the call.
“You can get that if you want,” Rachel said.
“It’s just my assistant. I can touch base with her later.”
From the back of the room, two hands shot up in the air, drumsticks pointing skyward. “Jules!” Felix waved. “When did you get here?”
“Not that long ago,” I shouted back.
Whatever Felix was about to say next got cut off by the strum of a guitar.
“It’s still sharp.” Bianca tossed the words over her shoulder as she peered down at her cell phone. She frowned, her fingers flying across the screen.
“Dammit,” Ian muttered.
Gavin tapped his finger against the mic, making everyone flinch. “Guys, can we get this shit rolling?”
Ben kneaded his fingertips into his forehead, but I was too far away to hear whatever he mumbled under his breath. Of the four of them, he was the quietest and possibly the most serious. In the two times I’d seen him, not once had his lips curved in a smile.
It took another few minutes for them to straighten everything out, and in that time I silenced another two calls from Ally. While Felix counted off for their first song, I typed out a quick text, Busy. I’ll call you when I’m done.
Then things got really loud and my ears were in for a treat. They played a few p
opular tracks from their first album, switching seamlessly to their newer stuff. Gavin’s voice was a husky crooning that sounded even better in person than it did on the radio, and behind him I could just make out Felix, sticks flying, arms a blur. He looked completely lost in the music, like the notes had surrounded him in a bubble of noise and swallowed him whole.
The heavy pounding of the bass drum sang like a heartbeat in my chest. I squinted toward the drum set, trying to figure out how he was managing to play it. Without the use of a foot pedal, I had no clue how he was pulling it off. I made a mental note to ask him later.
I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye at Rachel. She tried to keep her focus trained on Gavin or Ian, but inevitably, it kept slipping back to Ben. Every time it did, this warm, gooey expression sat on her face, plain as day.
What was it Bianca said? Right. The water was all over that bridge.
My ears rang as they took a quick pause between one song and the next, and I glanced down at my phone to find eight missed calls. I keyed in my password, confirming that all eight of them were from Ally.
A little flutter of panic settled beneath my breastbone, spreading outward.
I pointed to my phone and leaned close to Rachel’s ear. “I’ve gotta make a call, I’ll be right back.”
She gave me a thumbs-up and relayed my message to Bianca, who nodded.
I gave the same explanation to my bodyguards, who were trying their best to blend into the woodwork near the front door. The bald one, Vince, followed me outside, crossing his arms over his thick barrel chest.
Dumbass that I was, I forgot my coat. My teeth were already chattering when Ally picked up on the other end of the line. “Jules?”
I tried to contain my annoyance. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“No, but I’ve been calling for so long that I wasn’t sure you were ever going to call me back.”
“I texted you.” I rubbed a hand frantically up and down my opposite arm, trying to generate some heat. “I told you I was busy.”
“Well, this couldn’t wait.”
“Okay, well you’ve got me. I’m freezing to death in anticipation.”
“Jules . . .” Static crackled over the line. “I think you need to sit down for this.”
Chapter 13: Juliet
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Ally hesitated by the door, fiddling with her purse strap.
I ran my hands through my hair, lifting my head. “I’m all right.” When her frown deepened, I gestured toward my ever-present bodyguards. “I’ve got Vince and Kevin with me, then Chuck and Gino on the night shift. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Pushing to my feet, I hustled her out the door. “Now go. It’s a night off for you too.”
“Wait, I just . . .” Her hands fisted at her sides. “God, you know what this means, right? If he found this place, then he probably knows your real name. And if he knows your name—”
“Don’t.” She wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already thought of—that it was only a matter of time until he could put two and two together and find my family. It was the entire reason I’d changed my last name in the first place, to give them anonymity. To keep Elle out of the spotlight. “He probably just followed me home or something.”
Because, somehow, that was the less terrifying option.
She latched onto my arm. “Jules, you know you don’t have to do this anymore.”
My chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
“This. All of this.” She waved her arms around her. “You’ve made more than enough money to make sure your family’s set for life. Even with Elle’s and your dad’s medical bills. You don’t have to go through all this if you don’t want to.”
“You think I should just . . . walk away?”
“Don’t tell me dropping off the grid with your family doesn’t sound like a fabulous idea to you.” She shrugged. “Besides, you’re not even in love with the job. Would you even miss it?”
The question twisted around my mind like slow-creeping vines. When I first got into acting, I was 100 percent in it for the money. I didn’t need the fame, didn’t crave the attention. Now? Sure, there were aspects of it that I hated—the hectic schedules and the crazy-ass stalkers for example—but there was a lot about it that I loved. I loved that heady feeling I got when I completely nailed a role, the way a fan’s face would light up when I stopped to take a picture with them, all the new places I got to visit. Maybe it hadn’t started out that way, but I did love my job. Just because it felt like something was missing, some small space inside that was still waiting to be filled, didn’t mean I was ready to give it up.
So, would I miss it? Hell yeah. But more importantly, I wasn’t going to let some asshole chase me away from the life I earned. The life I made for myself.
“Ally, there’s no way I’m going to let some sadistic creep influence my life choices. I’m not going to run away. That’s not my style.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly nodding her head. “Okay.” She ran a hand over her face. “Okay. I’m just worried about you. Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I promise.” I shoved her shoulder. “Now go.”
I watched her all the way down to the elevator, and once the silver doors slid closed, I slipped back into my apartment. My feet dragged on my way over to the couch, a headache throbbing in my temples.
An hour ago, my place had been filled with policemen—their hands all over my things, in my drawers, brushing every surface searching for fingerprints. My newest delivery, a thick manila envelope, had been bagged and tagged as evidence and whisked down to the station.
If Ally hadn’t stopped by to see me this afternoon, I likely wouldn’t have found it until I got home later tonight. I pictured myself sitting on this couch, spilling out the large eight-by-ten prints on my coffee table. Because it wasn’t just a sick little note this time, it’d been pictures too. Almost a hundred of them.
But they weren’t taken from some telephoto lens. No. They were taken inside my apartment. Inside my home. There were pictures of me in the shower, getting undressed, snapshots of Felix and me on the couch. They were seared across my brain, flashing behind my eyelids like an old-school projector. This time his message had been short and sweet—Soon.
My stomach churned like it was getting ready to evict its contents, but I gritted my teeth together until my jaw ached. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of affecting me like this.
A thorough sweep of my apartment had turned up four tiny cameras hidden in an air-conditioning vent, my bookshelf, my dresser. But no matter how hard the police and my own personal security team looked, they still didn’t have any idea how he got inside. There were no signs of forced entry, nothing suspicious at all.
And they still had no leads on his whereabouts.
I let out a disgusted sigh, my gaze bouncing around the room but not finding any comfortable place to land. Realistically I knew I was probably safe; there weren’t any more cameras hiding here. But that didn’t mean my skin wasn’t crawling like a parade of fire ants were marching up and down it.
I wrapped an afghan around my shoulders, trying to fight off the chill, but it didn’t help. My leg bounced up and down as I turned on the TV and casually flicked through the channels. I wasn’t really interested in watching anything though and finally gave up after reaching the two-hundreds without even noticing one thing that was on.
The worst part, the very worst part, about all of this was that he’d taken the one place I loved and ruined it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop imagining him sitting on my couch, running his fingers over my picture frames, flipping through my books. Everything here was tainted by his touch.
I couldn’t stay here a second longer.
It took about thirty seconds from the time I knocked for the door to be yanked open. I had to readjust my gaze a few feet up from where I expected to see Feli
x, but instead got an eyeful of Gavin’s twig and berries, wrapped in a tight casing of black boxer briefs.
“What’s up, Jules?” Gavin leaned a hand against the door, the other scratching through his hair. “Felix expecting you? Cause he’s not here right now.” His gaze dropped to the duffel bag that snuggled up against my hip, then shot up over my shoulder to my bodyguards.
“I should have called.” Dammit, dammit, dammit. I’d been in such a frenzy to get out of there, it’d completely slipped my mind that I needed to call Felix. That I needed to apologize for completely bailing on his rehearsal and disappearing without a word. He probably thought I blew him off or something. I tapped my fist against my forehead. Shit, and sane people checked with other people before randomly showing up at their house. With luggage. When they were probably pissed at them anyway. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“You didn’t interrupt anything. I’m just having some dinner.” He stepped back and pushed the door open wider. “Come on in. Felix is out with Ben, but he’ll be back soonish.”
“Thank you.” My entire body relaxed in relief. “It’s been a really long day.”
He sauntered into the living room, the bright flashes from the TV painting his bare chest and back in vivid colors. Where Felix was all lovely, thick muscles, Gavin was lean and thin. One skinny line of text was tattooed down the side of his left biceps, and another was inked on the underside of his wrist.
He flopped onto the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’d actually really love to talk about anything else.” I dropped my bag on the floor and took the spot on the other end of the couch. A pizza box was open on the coffee table, the pizza inside untouched as yet. It was layered with toppings—ham, pineapple, white onions, olives, tomatoes, and . . . “Is that broccoli?”
“Are you judging my pizza, Ms. St. Clair?”
“Your pizza, your lack of wardrobe.” I smirked at him.
“So, this is what I get being a nice guy. Good to know.” He shook his head at me and held up a finger. “First, clothes are overrated. So many unnecessary layers.” He held up another finger. “Second, this pizza contains all the major food groups—I’ve got my fruits and vegetables, meat, grains, and of course, dairy.”