by Unknown
She turns to Michael. “Mr. Grayson, what can I say? Truly a joy. A bit of advice, Ariana has a stubborn streak in her. I’m sure a powerful and successful man such as yourself is capable of handling someone like her.” She peeks behind Michael and winks at me with a smirk.
Oh, wonderful, another bully. Ha.
“I think it’s time she lets someone give her some TLC. If she gives you any problems, call me,” Joanne offers and dives into her bag, pulling out her business card and handing it to him. “Good luck.” She pats his hand.
“Thanks, I’ll keep your card, in case I need your help. I’m pleased, we met,” Michael remarks.
She walks around Michael, strolls my way, and gives me another big hug, kissing my cheek. She turns towards Blake.
“Blake, God, I love you. Tell Francis, I said hello, and when I arrive back, I demand we get together.”
“I love you too, Joanne. Take care and be careful. I know you don’t travel by yourself, but you still need to be cautious.” He wraps her in his arms with a warm embrace, and I know the comment came from the situation I’m facing. If I have a deranged fan after me, what’s not to say that someone who watches Joanne on the air wouldn’t do the same to her?
Joanne waves her good-byes, beaming her electrifying smile as she flashes out of the room and into the elevator, leaving behind the aftereffects of a small tornado.
“She may be tiny but she’s a lot of woman,” Trent comments.
Everyone bursts out laughing as we walk into the living room.
“How’s the situation with the stalker?” Blake asks.
Trent frowns. “I keep hitting dead-ends. Even the lab came up with nothing. He uses a disposable cell phone, and he’s a computer whiz. Each time we ping the call, which sends a signal to his cell phone, the nearest tower is twenty to thirty miles away,” Trent replies. I wince, thinking of his last phone call.
Michael pulls me into his soothing arms and kisses my cheek. We sit on the sofa, and the others follow, except for Blake.
Blake can’t stay still. He starts pacing like an imprisoned animal, rubbing the back of his neck. He walks towards the cabinet in my living room and pulls out a shot glass and his bottle of brandy I keep just for him. “Does anyone need a drink?” He asks, gazing toward us.
The men shake their heads. “Fine, more for me,” he says, and drinks two shots of brandy, slamming the snifter on the counter and stares at Trent.
“So, what do we do now?” He asks, brushing his fingers through his long black hair, which falls past his shoulders. This must be a male thing, and I just never paid any attention.
“We wait. I have her phone tapped. My men are out as I speak. I have a few lurking in the park disguised as homeless. The fuck is watching her. We can’t figure how or from where. I searched the nearby hotels and a few apartment buildings in the area, and I came up blank. The bastard has to slip sooner or later,” Trent explains.
“She can’t be safe here.” Blake looks at me. “I’ll stay with you until they find this psychopath,” Blake offers.
“Absolutely not,” I blurt out. “The building has security.” I wave my hand in the air.
“Some security. He broke into your apartment not long ago without getting caught.” Blake’s brisk tone rings out loudly.
“I’ll spend the night here,” Michael says, glaring at Blake.
Blake walks his way over to me. “She’s my friend. If anyone is staying with her, it will be me,” Blake snaps, not once taking his eyes off Michael.
“Hello . . . guys, you’re talking about me as if I’m not even here. If you’re planning to duel it out, I suggest you take your testosterone levels outside. “Let me make this clear. No one is spending the night with me. This is my home, and I am not going to let this asshole scare me to the point of being afraid of being in my own apartment.” Humph! I hope I made myself clear. The men stand wide-eyed, looking baffled and mystified.
Josh coughs trying to suppress a laugh.
Michael and Trent exchange glances.
Blake grabs me by the hand. “May I have a word with you?” He asks and pulls me outside onto the terrace. The outdoor lights illuminate automatically, casting light and silhouettes over the terrace. I glance across the city as it glimmers.
“Ariana, you can’t be serious! He attacked you last night. He was in your apartment. He may find a way to get in again.” He frowns and stares out into the star-lit sky and lets out a long breath. He looks down at me with distress in his eyes. “What if he’s watching you? Damn, Ariana,” he explodes; his eyes flash with anger. I shrink back from the expression on his face.
“This is very unsettling, Ariana. My gut is screaming danger, and it’s alarming. Please let me stay here with you, or if you’re comfortable with Michael, then have him spend the night.”
“No.” I wrap my arms around his waist and press up against his chest.
He sighs and holds me tight. “I don’t want you to get hurt again,” he whispers in my ear.
He and Joanne are the only ones I confided in about my past with Danny. They befriended me when I began working at the studio. They helped me gain my self-esteem and confidence. Blake suggested I volunteer at the women’s shelter. He thought it would help me deal with my trauma by helping them. He was right. “Blake, he calls me baby doll.” My voice cracks.
Blake kisses the top of my head. “He’s dead, Ariana. I was with you when you had to identify his body. Why would you think its Danny? Did the attacker feel like Danny? Is he built like him? Did he sound like him?”
“No, to all of the above.”
“Did any of his employees’ know the nickname he used to call you?”
I shake my head. “No, he’s only called me baby doll when we were alone,” I answer shivering from the cold breeze. “I’m chilly.” I pull away from his arms and head back inside.
“I agree with Blake,” Trent voices as we walk back in. “I can place a call to one of my female guards to spend the nights with you. She’s a former FBI agent.”
I can’t believe this is happening. This is my home, my sanctuary and a haven for me, or at least, it was. Now I feel exposed and vulnerable. Sure, I’m putting up a brave front, but deep down, inside; I'm terrorized by this man’s words, actions, and his immoral thoughts.
“I’m in agreement with both Trent and Blake.” Josh intervenes, releasing his arms that were resting across his chest as he pushes himself off the counter. “He’s well aware you live alone. He may want to try something while you’re sleeping. It’s unsettling how he manages his way into the apartment without the knowledge of security,” Josh comments.
They all have a point, and yes I do wonder how he got in without alerting security downstairs. I also want to know how he knows what I’m doing and where I go, but I don’t wish to discuss anything about him at the moment.
I glance at the time. “It’s late, and I need to get to work tomorrow morning.”
“What makes you think he won’t try anything tonight?” Michael snaps, pacing around with a high anxiety level and shoves his shaky hands into his pockets.
“I’m going to visit the powder room, and once I return; I'll be escorting you men out into the elevator.” I spin on my heel and disappear.
Chapter 13
The Phone Rings
As I approach the foyer, I overhear Blake and Michael conversing.
“Okay, Blake, what’s going on?” Michael questions.
“What are you asking?” Blake replies.
“The welts on her back. What sort of malicious, inhumane bastard did that to her? Or were they caused from an accident?” Michael asks. I can hear the strain and sympathy in his voice.
“You’ll need to ask Ariana.”
Trent faces Michael with a stunned expression. “What welts?” Trent asks Michael.
“I’ll explain later,” Michael answers and Trent nods.
“Is it someone from her past? This could be a lead we’ve been looking for,” Trent interje
cts.
“I can’t. Ariana confided in me,” Blake explains. “Look, if it’s any consolation to you both, the person she feared most is out of the picture. So our only lead would be some psycho fan who’s obsessed with her,” Blake offers empathically.
“Who was the person she feared?” Trent probes.
“Sorry, Ariana will need to tell you herself if she chooses to. I think I’ve said enough,” Blake answers.
I sigh with relief and push myself off the wall to confront the four oversized males.
Blake waves his hand my way and gestures with a tilt of his head and I follow. “Can you please excuse us, I need to have a word with Ariana,” Blake says.
He pulls me by the hand and leads me towards my bedroom. He gives me a warm embrace. “I’m heading out. Are you sure I can’t stay here with you tonight?”
“Yes, now go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kiss him good-bye.
“I like Michael and his brothers. I get good vibes from them.” He sighs and frowns. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” He kisses me on the cheek. “I love you, Ariana, and I’m worried. Please be careful. Don’t try to play hero and pretend this doesn’t bother you. I can see the fear in your eyes. Accept our help,” he expresses in a soothing tone and hugs me as if I was a porcelain doll and we walk back into the living room.
“Good night everyone.” Blake offers a handshake to Josh.
“Good night Blake, good to see you man,” Trent says.
“Same here.” Blake smiles and extends his hand to Michael. “A pleasure to meet you and I appreciate all you and your brothers are doing for Ariana. I love her.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, thank you,” Michael says graciously.
I follow Blake toward the elevator and give him a hug good-bye. They glide open and close with a whoosh, and the sound of the elevator rushing down to the lobby echoes. I turn to face the remaining three men, who are now towering over me. “Well, don’t you all need to get home?” I question, smiling at each one.
“That’s my cue,” Josh says, picking up his jacket from the dining room and giving me a hug and heads inside the elevator. “Thanks for dessert, and anytime you get sick of Michael, please don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll pamper you for life. As long as you continue to bake your famous Texas chocolate sheet cake.” He winks, and the doors glide shut, but not before he chuckles from Michael’s comment.
“Like hell she will,” Michael yells outs. His face is taut, his lips pressed tight, and his chest expanding to the point that the buttons on his shirt are straining to pop off. “This is what I get for having two brothers,” he mumbles to himself.
Trent and I stare at one another and muffle a laugh.
“Did I miss the joke?” Michael glares at the two of us.
Trent holds his hands up. “Nothing, I was just on my way out.” He smirks and picks up his jacket, and I’m gifted with one of his famous bear hugs. “I’ll keep you posted. Call me if you need anything. Don’t open any packages or letters.” He lifts his eyebrow. “Understand, Ari?” He taps me on the nose with his finger.
“Yes, Captain.” I salute him. Ari?
“Smart-mouth.” He flashes his pearly whites at me and walks into the elevator. I turn to face Michael, his eyes slit with a devious look to them.
“Three down, you’re next, big boy,” I gaze into his emerald green eyes with an undying desire, hoping he’ll give me one unforgettable kiss before he leaves.
“Not on your life, Ariana.” He moves toward me, like a hungry wolf, pressing his body to mine, pushing me against the polished wood doors. He holds my head between his hands; his fingers caress my face as he gazes into my eyes with affection. His lips brush over mine, and the physical tension between us erupts into a searing blaze of fire.
Our mouths melt together and a burst of chocolate and nuts entices my palate. I anchor my hands to his neck, and his arms wrap around my waist, embracing me against his body. I cry out into his mouth from the sensation of his warm, delicious kiss and sweet moans.
He pulls away for a moment, and I dissolve into a pool of water when I see his eyes grow darker. “I thought they’d never leave.” He exhales panting hard and fast.
I gape at his wet lips. “Shut up and kiss me,” I command.
His eyes blaze into flames, and he wraps my long hair around his hand and pulls it down, his soft, smooth lips crush against mine leaving me breathless.
My heart is overjoyed with happiness. She’s spinning and jumping with joy. I pant breathlessly as my fingers grip hold of his shirt and wrench it open. The sound of buttons snapping vibrates throughout the foyer as each one pops off, scattering over the marble floor. I muffle his gasp with my mouth.
“You savage,” he growls between kisses. “You little wildcat.” He sweeps me off my feet and carries me into the living room, laying me on the sofa. He hovers over me, bare-chested, strong and masculine like Adonis.
“You barbarian,” I breath out and wrap my weakening legs around him, tugging him closer, body-to-body, feeling his heart beating against mine. There are no words to describe what Michael does to me, how he makes me feel, so full of life and cherished.
“You’re beautiful . . . so . . . damn . . . beautiful,” he says with bated breath, nibbling the flesh around my neck, which has me curling my toes and my breasts tingling as if I’ve been shocked with a defibrillator, electrifying every cell back to existence awakening my sexuality as a woman.
The sweet sound of his moans turns me inside out, making me dizzy and weak. We’re like two vines wrapped around a tree, entangled in knots.
I run my hands through his thick black hair, pulling him closer and fusing his mouth with mine. I gasp as we both jerk up, falling off the sofa when the phone rings out.
Michael hits the floor first, and I follow, landing on top of him. I jump up. “Michael, are you hurt?” I offer my hands. He grasps one and tugs me down against his solid mass of muscles, and I giggle.
His lips kiss mine, and he rolls me over to his right side and stands up.
“Are you okay?” He asks as he offers me his hand.
I stand, fixing my shirt. I nod, laughing at the scene. “Yes, I’m fine.” The phone rings again causing me to jolt. It’s him, who else would be calling me at eleven at night?
Michael pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “Let the machine answer,” Michael suggests, staring down at me with a hint of anger.
“I need to plug the cord into the outlet. Before I left for the game, I unplugged it,” I stutter, gaping at his lips. “I didn’t want to come home to any more messages.” I pull away from his warm embrace and plug the machine back in. Two more rings echo throughout the apartment, causing me to shudder, dreading to hear his wretched voice again.
The machine kicks on. “Hi, this is Ariana, sorry I can’t get your call right now. Please leave your name and number after the beep.”
Michael takes my hand and squeezes it. He nods, a way of telling me I’m not alone that he, Blake, and his brothers are here for me.
“Baby doll, you disappoint me. You kissing another man turns my gut into a burning rage. I’ll need to teach you a lesson, ” he hisses out angrily. “I bought a thick, black belt. You’re going to love it against your skin. That should teach you not to be unfaithful to me,” he yells out, and there is a long pause. “I painted the room your favorite color, blue.” Laughter and the snapping sound of a belt vibrate throughout the kitchen, making me wince and cringe every muscle in my body.
My heart begins to hammer hard against my chest, ready to explode. I go weak in the knees, and collapse on the sofa, feeling nauseous about his sick demented remarks and the thought of his dirty, grimy hands touching me again. This isn’t a game to him; he has a plan for me.
I feel my throat closing up, my breath caught in my lungs. I can’t breathe, and panic begins to course through me. I abruptly stand up and rush over to the windows, drawing the curtains closed. I sprint to the home office, library,
my bedroom, and kitchen and unplug the phones.
“Ariana . . . Ariana,” Michael calls out.
“Ariana,” he pleads.
I rush back into the bedroom, and Michael is right behind me. I’m going crazy. This asshole is pushing me to the edge.
“Ariana,” he calls out again. He takes me by the arm, and spins me around, staring into my eyes with worry. “Ariana, please say something,” he begs with a pleading look.
“How did he know we were kissing?” I question in a strangled voice so small that I don’t think he even heard me. “There has to be a bug or something that Trent must have missed, but Trent said he went over this placed with a fine-tooth comb.” I stare into his eyes. “I’m beginning to feel numb, and all I want to do is go to bed.” I shake off his hand and walk towards the closet. “Good night, Michael, please lock the elevator doors when you leave,” I say barley a whisper.
“If you think that I’m leaving you alone with a psychotic fuck on the loose, you, my dear are sadly mistaken,” Michael hisses out with ire.
“Michael, go home,” I plead, and his cell phone rings.
“Trent . . . .Yes, I’m still here . . . . I’m well aware. I have no intentions on leaving . . . . Correct. Thanks for all your help.” He ends the call.
I open my mouth to say something. He stops me by holding up his hand, his posture stiff with rigid muscles and a corded neck so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. I can feel the tension thickening in the air around us.
“Don’t, Ariana. I’m in no mood. Your choices are limited, slim to none. I’m staying in the guestroom. Trent was unable to trace the damn call again. This time the tower was twenty miles away. I don’t know how he knows your every move. The bastards real slick,” he spits out in frustration. “There is no way Trent would have missed anything. He has special equipment to pick up even the slightest disturbance,” he reassures.
“I know,” is all I could say. I’m too numb to argue, and to be honest, I’m thankful he’s here. The idea of this jerk watching my every move terrifies me.