by Brooks, Anna
My attention is immediately drawn to Wes, who takes a step closer. His eyebrows are drawn tight, and his hands in fists.
“Yes, I was. And luckily, he is no longer a threat. It was scary, and I hated that I had to interrupt the tour to take some time off, but it was needed for reasons I can’t disclose. I’m just glad it’s over.”
The audience claps, and I pause, smiling at their appreciation.
“But I’m here because I wanted to set something straight. There was a photo, two photos actually, of my bodyguard and me circulating.” I glance up at Wes, who is now pissed. When I mentioned that I wanted to sue the magazine for slander, he actually rolled his eyes at me and said, Leave it. They’re idiots, and I don’t give a fuck what they say. If someone is dumb enough to believe them, that’s not on me.
“The article stated that he manhandled me, was rough, possessive, and things of that nature. I am here to clarify that. I know, I know… going up against these tabloids is pointless, and when they talk crap about me or spread lies about me, I don’t care. But the things they said about him could potentially damage his reputation, and I won’t let that stand.”
Everyone in the audience claps, but it’s shorter than the last time.
I turn my head from the host and look directly at the camera. “My bodyguard is the best man I’ve ever known. He’s kind, he’s loyal, and he protects me. Never once has he been aggressive with me, and he never will be. He has never put his hands on me in anger, and he never will. So this is my statement and warning. If another inflammatory word is printed about him, I will use every one of my resources not only to sue the crap out of you, but I will destroy your entire publication.”
Valerie claps right along with the audience again, and I risk a glance over at him. His arms are crossed, and he’s right next to the camera at center stage. “Is that him?” she asks.
I nod.
“Bring him out. Bodyguard, come on over here.”
Now, the crowd stands. Wes drops his arms and remains impassive until he steps up onto the platform. I get to my feet, and he shakes hands with Valerie before looking at me. “What are you doing?” He grabs me by my hips and steps in so our bodies are touching.
Even with the cameras on me and the audience wooing us, it feels as though we’re the only people in the room. Just as it always does. When I was on stage and I’d look over, his eyes would catch mine and everything and everybody froze for that split second.
Valerie takes her seat first, and I sit where I was, Wes next to me with his arm thrown over the back of the couch. “Does bodyguard have a name?”
“This is Wesley.”
“Hi, Wesley,” Valerie says, and the audience repeats after her. “So you weren’t expecting to be on national television tonight, were you?”
“No. This wasn’t on the itinerary.”
Even with the pressure of being on camera and me throwing this on him, he’s still calm and collected. To the outside world, at least. But I know him, and he’s not mad… more like, irritated he was taken by surprise.
“Well, we’re happy to have you. I’m glad Quinn was able to sort out the confusion.”
“Wasn’t any confusion. Just a bunch of pathetic assholes spreading lies.”
The audience roots him on, and I snuggle into him.
“I take it things are going well between you two, and you are not, in fact, an item with Jaysyn.”
I roll my eyes. “No. Jaysyn and I are not together; we never were. But yes, things between Wes and I are great.” His fingers absentmindedly twirl my hair, and he listens as I talk. “They always were. He obviously has become more to me than a bodyguard, and I’ve never been happier.”
We’re so close that all he has to do is tilt his head down before his lips are at my ear, “Me too, baby,” he whispers and kisses me on my cheek.
“Aww.” Valerie and everyone else in the studio coo in unison. “I think you may have forgotten she has a microphone on her,” she jokes.
“I remembered. I just don’t care,” he smoothly replies.
I giggle and rest my head on his shoulders. Samantha twirls her finger in the air, and Valerie sits back in her chair. “Well, thank you for stopping by tonight. We’re all happy that you’re happy and relieved you’re safe. Quinn Valentine and her more than a bodyguard, Wesley, everyone.”
As the music for a commercial comes on, Wes holds his hand out for me after he stands, and Valerie comes around the desk. A stagehand is rushing up to me, and I hand him the mic pack, and he gently pulls it out from beneath my shirt. “Truly a pleasure. Please come back anytime.”
“I will. Thank you for letting me take some of your time. Next show, I promise I’ll sing, okay?”
She puts her arm around me, and I don’t let Wes go. “Quick photo.” Sam holds up a camera, and I smile. I don’t know if Wes did or not, but I’ll find out soon enough when I see it online.
“I was happy to accommodate, and I understand.” She turns her back so it’s at the cameras and puts her hand on her neck, strategically placing it over her mic. “I’m glad you did that, Quinn. Whoever was involved, from the person who leaked to the company who printed, they all need to be held accountable. I’m so sick of their shit.”
That’s right. Last year, Valerie’s daughter was the topic of a scandal where she was accused of sleeping with an executive of a production company to get a part in a movie. All allegations were eventually proven false, but her career was almost ruined before it even started.
“If you ever need support, you have mine, okay?”
“Thank you, Valerie. That means a lot.”
She drops her hand, and we give each other a quick embrace.
“So happy to meet you, Wesley.”
“Same.”
“Two minutes!” Samantha calls.
“Okay, we’ll get out of your hair. Thank you again.”
I wave at the audience, and Valerie smiles as we walk away. “My pleasure. Take care.”
Wesley’s hand remains where it always does when we’re walking, and when we get to Ian, Wes glares at him. “Thanks, asshole.”
He shrugs. “She tells me what to do, not the other way around.”
“Such a cop-out.” Wes chuckles. “We done? No more surprises?”
“We’re done,” I tell him.
“Good, time to go home.”
We part ways with Ian and head back to my house. When we get to the gate, my father is sitting on his motorcycle on the curb. “Shit,” Wes mumbles.
When the gate opens, he follows us in, and after we park, he trails us into the house without a word.
And I know before he opens his mouth that he has bad news. Even though everything with Terry is done and finished, I knew he was still trying to deal with Gail. But when he went to go do that, he discovered she was missing from the Demon’s clubhouse. So for the past couple of months, he’s been searching for her.
All I want to do is make sure she’s never going to leak that one photo of me. I know she still has a copy somewhere. The one that Terry got a hold of was the one he stole from my lawyer’s office. Apparently, he disguised himself as a custodian, and somehow broke into the filing cabinet and took the picture that was kept as evidence for the NDA.
But my dad being here like this means something went bad.
“What?”
He hesitates and rubs his hands over the full-on beard he’s sporting now.
“I found Gail, but Quinn, she’s dead.”
“What?”
“We’re still trying to figure everything out, but it looks like it was a deal gone bad. Nothing to do with you. She’s been chasing her tail for years now. Never should have made a deal with the Demons and when she couldn’t stand the heat, she hauled ass outta the kitchen, but not before she leaked the photos to try to hurt you one last time. Her death didn’t even have anything to do with the Demons. It was more than likely a dealer she owed money to.”
My conflicting emotions are heightened now
more than ever. “She didn’t deserve to die.” Wes and my dad look away. “You think she deserved to die?”
When they look at each other, I know they know something. “Tell me. What are you hiding?”
My dad looks at Wes, who nods, giving my dad permission to tell me whatever it is. “She killed your mom, Quinny. She was the one who drove her off the road. She thought she’d get her life insurance policy and be able to pay off her debt to the Demons. But she didn’t realize your mom stopped paying on it three months before she died because she couldn’t afford it anymore.”
My hands find purchase on the countertop, and I barely hold my head up. “She killed her own sister?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know until recently. It was when I brought her back to the Demons. She told me then.”
“She killed my mother?”
“Yes. She did.”
I don’t get it. “Why would she take her away from me and then make my crappy life even more miserable by being so evil to me? What kind of person does that?”
My dad answers. “Wish I had an answer for ya, but all I know is you don’t have to worry about her anymore, so you should just move on.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap. Thanks for coming out here to tell me that, I guess.”
I walk upstairs to my room, and as I’m climbing into bed, I hear the beep of the alarm when doors open and close.
It takes a few minutes because I know he did a round of the house, but Wes climbs in bed next to me. I don’t know why I said I was tired because I’m not. “That was weird.”
“Yeah.”
“I was worried when he couldn’t find her… but knowing that she took my mom away from me makes me not even feel anything about the fact that she’s dead.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s not?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Just because you’re related to someone doesn’t mean you’re supposed to allow them to affect your life in any way you don’t want it to. She was a mean person, and finding out what she did tells you just how much. You don’t owe her shit. Especially not your tears.” He wipes my cheeks.
“I’m not crying for her, I’m crying because if it wasn’t for her, my mom might still be here.”
He pulls me into his arms and lets me cry it out. I ended up falling asleep because, in my dreams, my mom is here. And she cries with me and tells me she misses me and how proud she is. I try to hold her tighter, but she slips away. Before she disappears, she blows me a kiss and tells me to be happy.
Chapter 20
Wesley, four months later
“This is gonna go bad.”
“Yeah, it is.” Graham agrees.
We’re all standing in Erik’s kitchen in the pitch black except the glow of the moonlight and the outside lights shining through the windows.
“Why is it gonna go bad?” Quinn asks.
“Erik coming home to a dark house alone with his wife.” Graham whistles. “Badness.”
“What about it?”
“He’ll shoot first and ask questions later,” Royce says from the other side of the island. “Why do you think I put Anderson in the other room?”
“Are you serious?”
I hear a grunt from Royce’s direction, followed by Paisley telling him to shut up. “He’s not going to shoot anybody,” his daughter assures Quinn.
“Yeah he will,” Carter disagrees.
“Oh my God, would you guys stop,” Paisley hisses. “He’s not going to shoot anybody.”
“He walks in this house with the lights off, I guarantee you he’ll pull out his weapon,” Gio states. Then adds, “I’ll fuckin’ bet on it.”
“I’m not betting that my father is going to shoot someone, Gio. My God, stop, you’re going to scare your girlfriend.”
“He is not my boyfriend,” Whitney corrects, and all the guys roll in laughter. Damien’s almost uncontrollable.
Paisley checks something on her phone and tells everyone to be quiet. “They’ll be here in like two minutes.”
The roar of laughter dies down, but D can’t stop. “Fuck, man. That shit was funny.” He snorts, and that makes the girls giggle. There aren’t many of them. Just Paisley, Billie who came with Carter, Quinn, and Whitney. The rest of the people are guys from Royal.
Gio clears his throat. “I’m not mad about it. If she didn’t correct Paisley, I would have. I don’t date divas.”
“I’m not a diva.”
“Exactly why I’m not dating you,” he points out.
“Hmm.” Whitney huffs. “Well, I don’t date male sluts.”
I try not to laugh at their little tiff, but it’s really hard not to. Gio is a good guy, one of the best men I know, but he’s not exactly known for having a good track record with the ladies.
“Does that mean you date female ones?” Gio returns.
“At least a woman would know how to get me off.”
Damien wheezes, and I hear Graham next to me choke on laughter.
“You think I couldn’t get you off, Whit?” I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but he sounds all growly now, and the mood in the room shifted. “Bet I could do it with just—”
“Gio, shut up. There are people around who can hear you trying to overcompensate for the fact that you’ve met your match,” Billie yells from across the room.
“Everyone shut up. They’re here,” Paisley whisper screams, and the room goes silent.
A minute later, the creak of the garage door shutting has me grabbing Quinn and pulling her behind me. This is a horrible idea. But Polly wanted it, so we’re all here. Not only is she the boss’s wife, but she’s the one who keeps Erik in such a good mood. And when he’s happy, we’re all happy.
Erik’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the garage door, and as soon as we hear the turn of the knob, I prepare to push Quinn to the ground.
“Why the fuck are the lights off?” Erik asks Polly as the door opens, and he types in the code to shut the alarm off.
“Oh, I must have forgotten to turn them on before we left.”
“Woman, get behind me, Jesus. You know better.” His voice is low, and I hear the sound of a gun being handled. My fingers tighten on Quinn’s hip behind me. This is not good. “Hit the switch, Polls, but stay behind me.”
She sighs. “Nobody’s in the house, the alarm didn’t trip.”
“Polly, I’m not fuckin’ around. Something’s not fucking right. Stay behind me and hit the fucking lights.”
“I think… Um, okay, but be… uh, careful.” The lights flash, and all the women scream surprise, which actually sounds pitiful, but the guys are all standing in front of their girls, shielding them from Erik’s potential gunfire. All the other Royal men are on guard. Graham took a step closer to me in front of Quinn. D did the same by Gio, who’s got his arm behind him and hand on Whitney’s ass, holding her close to him.
Noble is at the back of the room, here under protest. He’d much rather be back at his cabin and made it known he was only here because Paisley begged him. Ever since all that shit went down with Brinley he’s pretty much been radio silent, so it’s good to see him.
Erik’s standing there aiming at no one in particular, and even though this is supposed to be a party, nobody’s exactly celebrating right now as we wait for his reaction.
“Jesus Christ.” Erik pulls open a drawer and sets his gun inside it. He turns his back to everyone and lifts Polly up, saying something only she can hear, before kissing her and setting her down. When he faces us again, he shakes his head. “You’re all fired.”
The room erupts in laughter, and everyone relaxes.
“You owe me money, Paisley,” Gio shouts to her from the opposite side of the kitchen.
“No, I don’t. I never bet you.”
“What were you gonna bet?” Erik asks.
Paisley raises a brow. “Yeah, Gio. What were you gonna bet?”
“Man, today is just not your day, brother.” Damien slaps him on the back as he goes to grab a beer from the cooler.
“What were you gonna bet?” Erik asks again with humor, but totally serious at the same time. He’s super protective over his wife and his daughter.
“He was going to bet that you’d shoot someone because apparently, he thinks you can’t control yourself or something. Hi, I’m Whitney.” She holds her hand out for Erik and again, Damien snorts from laughing. It is pretty hilarious that the player has finally met someone who can top him. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks. Erik. Nice to meet you.” He lets go of her hand and crosses his arms. He glances at Gio, whose body is tight as he tries to control the tension in it. Then Erik smirks and looks back at Whitney. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
The rest of the party is great. Everyone has a great time, and even though something’s clearly going on between Gio and Whitney, he won’t leave her side. When it’s time to sing “Happy Birthday,” everyone starts chanting Quinn’s name.
She sounds so beautiful that nobody else sings along. We all just listen to her raw, unfiltered talent. When she’s done, she opens her eyes, and we all clap for her. Erik blows out his candles, and after cake, Quinn has a glass of wine. Then another. And before I know it, she’s tipsy and rubbing her tits all over me as I’m leaning on the wall watching part of a game on TV.
“You drunk, baby?” I ask her, setting my beer down and pulling her closer.
“Maybe a little.”
“Hmm.”
She pushes up on her toes and pushes her fingers through my hair, her nails scraping along my scalp.
“In all the time we’ve been together, I don’t believe I’ve fucked you drunk yet, have I?”
She shakes her head. “No. But that sounds good.”
I dip my head and run my nose along her jaw, then lick the skin just below her ear. “Then let’s get out of here so we can change that.”
“Okay.”
By the time we say goodbye, it’s getting dark out. When we get to my Hummer, I open the back door, and she looks up at me, confused. “Why do I have to get in the back?”