That was as far as I got before a hand clamped over my mouth from behind and I was jerked back against someone. I screamed into the person’s palm, realizing from the size of it that it was a man’s.
“Release her,” I heard Samuel command.
I was suddenly turned so that I was facing Samuel, and I felt something sharp touch my stomach. A sudden sting and then the feel of blood dripping from the wound on my abdomen made me scream into the palm again, and I looked at my bodyguard with overwhelming fear in my eyes, silently pleading with him to help me. Whoever had grabbed me had a very deadly knife from the feel of it, and he was holding it right against my stomach.
Oh God, please don’t let anything happen to my little nugget.
Samuel had a gun pointed at the person holding me, his hands steady as he kept it trained several inches above my head. I hadn’t even realized he carried a gun. They scared me, but at that moment, I was glad he had it. “Release her,” he barked again, his voice never wavering as he took a step closer.
The knife pressed deeper into my flesh, and tears began to spill from my eyes. I didn’t even feel the pain, but the fear of something happening to my unborn baby made me shake.
“You have until the count of ten to release her, or I’m going to put a bullet in your brain,” Samuel threatened.
A muffled laugh left the person holding me. The sound vibrated through their chest and made my already pounding heart quake with fear. “I don’t think so,” he said in a voice that was harsh but just as muffled as his laugh.
Samuel took another step toward us, but the knife that was cutting into my belly was suddenly pressed to my throat. I swallowed the next scream that bubbled up, knowing that as sharp as that big knife was, the action of screaming would cause him to slit my throat effortlessly.
“Take another step closer,” my assailant dared. “See if I don’t slit her open from ear to ear.”
Samuel stopped and actually took a step backward, but he was only a blurry form in front of me as my tears began to fall faster.
Was this the stalker who had sent the packages and destroyed my dressing room? Was this the same person who had tried to ruin my career by posting that video of me with Jordan?
Anger filled me, but fear kept me motionless. It wasn’t just me that I had to worry about. If something happened to me, that would put my precious baby in danger.
My hand moved to cover the bleeding wound on my abdomen. From the feel of it, I was bleeding pretty badly with how wet and sticky my fingers were. I wanted to stomp on the man’s foot and elbow him in the gut the way Luca and Lyric had taught me when we were kids, but the blade pressed so tightly into my skin kept me from so much as swallowing for fear of him slitting my throat.
“All right.” Samuel’s voice was lower now, as if he were actually trying not to be as intimidating, but the way his lips were snarled back didn’t make a difference to how low or soft he made his voice. He was a scary motherfucker to look at. “Let’s just stay calm.” I thought he was talking more to me than to the man holding a knife against me, because I was the only one shaking in fear. “Tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen. Her fiancé is a rich man. He will pay you any amount you want, give you anything you can think of, as long as you don’t harm her.”
“Fiancé,” the man at my back spat out as if repeating the word left a bitter taste on his tongue. Even through whatever was muffling his mouth, I could hear how much he hated that word. “Moreitti can’t have her. She’s. Mine.” He trailed the blade up and down my throat like a caress, almost…lovingly. “She’s my little bird.”
“Please,” I dared to beg against his hand, but he couldn’t understand me, and the action caused the knife to scrape the flesh of my neck raw. It stung, but at least I didn’t feel any blood.
He released the hand over my mouth, but only so he could grab my hair. My head was jerked back, and it was a small relief not to have the blade so close to my throat. But it was short-lived as he pulled my head back until his gaze locked with mine.
The man was wearing something similar to a ski mask. All I could see of his face was the area over his eyes and part of his nose. Even through my tears, I could see his eyes as clear as day. Eyes I knew as if I were staring into my own.
Pop-Pop’s eyes.
Mom’s eyes.
Garon Steel’s eyes.
“Why?” I whispered, not understanding.
How could he have sent those packages? Those disgusting pictures of him jerking himself off with my favorite lotion… I felt even sicker now than I had when I’d first seen those photos. That… That man in those pictures was my uncle?
“You’re mine,” he gritted out again from behind his mask. “She got everything when the old man died. Everything. If I take you, one of her precious children, and make you mine, it will destroy her.” The knife touched my cheek, again in a tender, adoring kind of way, but the blade scraped over my cheek, and I flinched at the rawness that was left behind.
She? As in…my mom?
“I’ve watched you, little bird.” His voice had turned gentle, but the look in his eyes remained manic. “I’ve waited and dreamed of the day I would take you. I thought it would have been easier. If you had just taken that part in that fucking movie, things would have gone so much smoother. I could have gone on watching you like I have in the past for a little longer before I had to steal you away.”
His hold on my hair tightened, and I could actually feel strands being pulled out of my scalp as his honey-golden eyes darkened with anger. “But no,” he seethed, the tenderness evaporating from his voice. “No, you wouldn’t take the part! And then there was Moreitti. I thought I could use him, get him to make you see it was good for your career, but that little pencil-dick loser couldn’t even do that.” Garon lowered his head until his lips were almost touching mine, and I felt bile lift into my throat. “Did you think of me while you fucked him, little bird? Did you imagine it was my cock you were riding?”
This wasn’t happening, I thought as I cowered back from him. This sick man couldn’t be saying these vile things to me. It was wrong, so very wrong. I whimpered in fear, wanting this moment erased from my mind.
Everything happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to blink. A sudden shot filled the garage. One moment, Garon was about to kiss me, and then the next, part of his head was missing.
The knife fell to the ground, but I didn’t hear it or anything else. The blast of the gunshot hurt my ears, the sound making them ring so badly that I couldn’t even hear the blood rushing through my veins like I had only moments before.
Blood was splattered on my face and clothes. There was something thick dripping from my hair. All of that barely registered as Garon dropped lifelessly at my feet.
I bent in half, retching.
Strong arms came around me, and I tried to look up to see who it was.
Braxton?
My brother-in-law tucked my head against his chest as he carried me away from my uncle’s dead body.
Twenty-Six
Arella
I didn’t understand what was going on around me, could barely hear the voices as people talked rapidly to one another, into their phones, or to me. I was sitting in the open doors of an ambulance as a nice female paramedic cleaned the blood and brain matter off my face. She’d already bandaged the wound on my belly and told me I was going to have to go to the hospital for stitches, but it wasn’t a life-and-death injury, so we had a little time.
At least that was what I’d heard through the continued ringing in my ears, so I wasn’t completely sure that was exactly what she’d said. But we weren’t rushing to the hospital.
Braxton stood close by, limping as he paced back and forth, talking into his cell phone. To whom, I had no idea, but the look on his face told me he wasn’t happy. Samuel stood beside the ambulance, his eyes constantly moving around the garage as if everyone was a threat.
The cops were standing by Garon’s dead body. A sheet had bee
n thrown over him, and several people had lifted it a few times to inspect the damages.
Braxton had killed Garon.
How he’d even known I needed help, I had no idea, but I was thankful.
“Arella!”
The roar of my name broke through the ringing in my ears, and I lifted my head to find Jordan running toward me.
His face was as pale as a ghost, his suit jacket missing, his tie hanging loose around his neck, and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked ragged and scared, and I’d never seen a more wonderful sight in my life.
With a cry, I jumped from the back of the ambulance and threw myself into his arms. Sobbing, I buried my face in his chest and held on to him for dear life.
Jordan trembled as he ran his hands over me. “Thank God you’re okay,” he said as he tilted my head up so he could kiss me. “When your mom called me, I nearly had a heart attack.”
“My mom?” I repeated. “Not Samuel?”
“He did,” he confirmed, his quivering hands running up and down my body. “But Lana’s call came first.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she call you? How would she even know?”
“Arie!”
“Arella!”
At the unmistakable sound of my parents calling my name, I turned my head to find them both being led into the garage by one of Braxton’s men, Barrick right behind them. Both of them looked just as stressed as Jordan, and that was the last thing I’d wanted.
“Oh no,” I whimpered, and I felt the world begin to spin. “Brax must have told them.”
“Arella.” Jordan’s arms tightened around me just as my legs gave out. “Baby!” he roared. Lifting me into his arms, he carried me back to the ambulance that was thankfully a good distance away from my rapidly approaching parents. “Are you sure she’s okay? She’s pregnant.”
“She mentioned that,” the sweet paramedic said with a reassuring smile. “Other than needing a few stitches, she’s fine. But I think the adrenaline might finally be leaving her, so she’s quite possibly going to crash at any moment.”
My head rolled against Jordan’s chest, and then I felt my mother’s soft fingers touching my cheek. “Arella,” she murmured. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”
I blinked my eyes and almost flinched when I met her gaze before remembering these honey-gold eyes belonged to the woman I loved most in the world. “Mommy,” I sobbed. “He…he was crazy.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. We had no clue it was Garon.” She pushed my hair back from my face but quickly pulled back her hand and stared down at her palm in a mixture of fascination and horror. “Is that…? Oh God.”
She began to sway, but my dad was there to steady her. Lifting her into his arms, he barked at the paramedic to get out of his way. The woman quickly did as he commanded, and he carried my mom into the back of the ambulance to lay her on the gurney. “Take it easy, Angel. It’s okay,” he soothed, stroking her hair back from her face. “Braxton took care of it. Garon isn’t a threat to her any longer. She’s safe, Angel. She’s safe.”
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to ease Mom’s fear or his own, but listening to them broke my heart. Putting them through something like this was what I’d wanted to avoid, yet there they were, trying to stay calm even though the danger was now gone.
“Dray, his brains are in her hair!” Mom cried. “We have to get her cleaned up. Let me up. I’ll take her to their apartment and help her shower. She can’t go around with his brains in her hair.”
Jordan carried me into the already cramped interior of the ambulance and sat me on the end of the gurney with Mom. Crouching down in front of me, he silently took the towel Samuel offered him and began to finish cleaning the gore out of my hair that the paramedic had missed.
It took every ounce of strength I still had just to sit upright, but I did it because I didn’t want to freak out my parents any more than they already were. “I-I’m sorry,” I whispered in an unsteady voice. “I didn’t want you two to have to worry about me. There hadn’t been any issues since the dressing room incident, so I thought maybe he’d stopped.”
“What dressing room incident?” my dad demanded.
Jordan’s eyes met mine, and I gave a nod at the unasked question in his. “Someone destroyed her dressing room on the last day of filming. I’m assuming it was Garon. The detective found part of a device that suggested there had been a camera hidden in there, and I guess he’d been spying on her for a while.”
I was thankful he didn’t mention what Garon had done with the footage from that camera.
“There’ve also been packages delivered,” I told them after a small hesitation, wanting to tell them everything so they had the full story. “Murdered little birds, messages…” My stomach turned. “Pictures of him doing…things to himself.”
“He sent you shit too?” Mom yelled.
I blinked a few times before her question finally registered. “I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘too’?”
She pressed her lips together and quickly looked away, but not before I saw the guilt on her beautiful face.
“Mom?” I breathed, but she wouldn’t look at me, so I focused on my dad. “Daddy?”
Running his hands through his long hair, he crouched down beside Jordan and took one of my hands. “I know we should have told you, and I’m so sorry now that we didn’t. But you had so much going on the last few months. The show was ending, and you seemed so caught up in trying to decide which part to take next. Between that and still seeming so sad after Cole’s death and Jordan being a dumbass, we just didn’t want to add more to your stress level, Arie.”
I shook my head in denial. “Are you saying you knew I had a stalker?”
“Your mom was getting letters and packages. Things taped to the window of her car or random boxes left at our front door. We gave it all to Braxton and swore him to secrecy and then asked him to put a secret security team on you. Not even Nevaeh or Barrick knew. Only lately, the letters had gotten more threatening, and we were so relieved when Jordan hired Samuel for you. But we thought it was only because he’s so possessive. We had no idea that you were having issues with the stalker too.”
“You should have told me!” I cried.
His blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? Like you told us about what was going on with you?”
Guilt and shame hit me, and I lowered my eyes to the towel in Jordan’s hand. The starkness of the blood and brain matter against the white cloth turned my stomach, so I quickly looked away.
Straight back into my dad’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Us too, sweetheart.” He tucked a few locks of my hair behind my ear and thankfully didn’t encounter anything slimy in the process. “The last letter showed up a few days ago, and Braxton started shadowing you himself. He saw Garon outside your building and followed him into the garage. That’s when he called us. We didn’t realize it was Garon until today. But after he stopped contesting Cole’s will so abruptly, we should have suspected he had something else up his sleeve.”
I shuddered, remembering how he’d tried to kiss me, the things he’d said.
I only wanted to forget this entire day.
“Okay, folks, we should get going now that the cops have given the go-ahead for her to leave the scene,” the paramedic said as she appeared at the back of the ambulance beside Samuel. “Um, technically, I can only let one of you ride with us, and we tend to let daddies ride with mommies-to-be.”
I let out a disappointed whine at her spilling my secret just as my parents started yelling at the same time.
“What the fuck do you mean daddies? The only daddy in here is me!” my dad bellowed at the woman. “And you’re damn right I’m going to be riding with my baby girl.”
“You’re pregnant!” Mom exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. “Oh, sweetheart, is that why we were having dinner with the Moreittis tonight? Oh my goodness! Are you okay?” She started
running her hands over me frantically now. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“I just need stitches, Mom,” I assured her.
“Where?” Her eyes scanned over every part of me she could see but wasn’t able to find a wound bad enough to need medical attention.
Biting my lip, I pulled up my shirt to show them the deep gash on my lower abdomen. It was the first time Jordan had seen it too, and my gaze went straight to his face. I could see the banked rage in his eyes and the set of his jaw, but he kept his mouth shut and just held my hand a little tighter.
“That motherfucker better be glad he’s dead,” Daddy snarled.
“Dray.” Mom put her hand on his arm, trying to soothe him, but there was no mistaking the tremble in her voice when she spoke again. “It’s okay. She…she just needs a few stitches. We’ll meet them at the hospital.”
It took a few more minutes, but she eventually got him out of the ambulance. I heard Jordan tell Samuel to follow us in the SUV before the ambulance driver closed the door on us. Through the window, I saw my parents walking out of the garage with Barrick and Braxton, who was still on the phone.
Jordan, kissing my hand that was held tightly in his, pulled my gaze back to him. With my free hand, I combed my fingers through his hair. “I’m okay,” I told him again, but the world was going dark around the edges.
I tried to blink my eyes to clear my vision, but when they closed, they wouldn’t open again.
Twenty-Seven
Jordan
Getting the frantic call from Lana that Arella was in danger was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I didn’t think I could ever hear a phone ring again without feeling a shot of the fear I’d felt when I thought I might have lost my reason for living.
I’d thought one bodyguard would be enough. It was our compromise when I asked her to take personal security seriously. She’d given in, but only allowed me to get her one guard. I should have just gotten her twenty and dealt with the consequences of her being pissed at me.
Needing Arella (Rockers' Legacy Book 6) Page 18