Rocked Part 6 LIMITED EDITION: A New Adult Rockstar Romance (Billionaire's Obsession)

by Wild, Bella

  I had no idea who she was talking about, and her disturbing description concerned me on a different level. “Who?”

  “Awww, come on. The guy with the meat-hook tattoo on his cheek.”

  “Ohhhhh. That guy? Oh God, Eva, we’ve got to get you some help. As soon as I get back, I’m taking you out to somewhere classy.”

  “So you’re not telling me about him, are you?”

  “Telling you about who?”

  “Amanda girl, you’re being so evasive today. What are you now, a spy in training? Sheesh. The guy you’re sleeping with, dammit!”

  Eva wasn’t far off at all. It made me laugh so hard, I was sure Johnny would come knocking on my door.

  “I can’t talk about him,” I told her when I got over my laughing fit.

  “Shit. Okay, but make sure you tell me if you end up marrying the guy.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I told you. It’s those goo-goo eyes you made last night. You barely ate your chocolate lava cake. Normally you can wolf down a second serving like it’s toffee. You’re already in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “Bye Eva,” I said, ignoring her last comment. “I’ll text you in a few days.”

  I put the phone down, slipped into my robe, and crawled into bed. It was time for a bit of rest—and getting my mind off Johnny.

  *****

  The nap and shower helped me feel better. By the time I woke up and got dressed, I felt confident I could keep it together long enough to have dinner with everyone. That was right up until I saw Johnny. I really thought I had drilled it in deep enough, but as soon as I stepped into that dining room and he smiled at me, my resolve went out the window. I lost it all and felt my brain fogging up again. Thankfully, the grimace on Kevin’s face was waiting to keep me in check.

  Agent Carlson and his fresh-faced team were already seated. It included Agents Lucas Ramirez and Larry Sanford, who I had met earlier, and a third one—female—Agent Jenny Webber. Carlson explained she was recently freed up from another assignment and could blend into Johnny’s entourage later in the tour. It sounded fine to me. I just hoped Kevin hadn’t gotten any new ideas about replacing me with her.

  I put the fear out of my mind as quickly as it came—it made no sense worrying about what I couldn’t control. I decided to focus on being my best, and to let the chips fall wherever they might. I did my thing, and was sociable, getting to know the four of them. Johnny and Kevin excused themselves at the sound of the doorbell. I couldn’t help feeling some anxiety whenever the two of them went off to speak privately. After witnessing their explosive argument, I was fairly certain all further fights during this tour would be about me.

  During that fight, Kevin had said Johnny was the one responsible for me getting the job, and the paycheck that went along with it. He also made it clear he held decision-making power over my continued employment. I wondered whether Johnny had told Kevin about the check he gave me. On top of that, I was curious about how Johnny knew me. My only guess was I got on his radar somewhere during my MMA days, or when my fights were syndicated on TV. Even if I could figure it out, there were lingering questions as to why he had handpicked me for this job, and why he had insisted on paying so much money. Deep down I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know. I had the information that mattered. Kevin had hired me and Johnny paid me upfront. Now it was up to me to make good on my commitment to both of them.

  There was no change to my confusion about all these unanswered questions when Johnny and Kevin re-entered the dining room, two huge paper bags in each of their arms.

  “I hope you’re all hungry!” Johnny shouted, sporting a broad smile. “I may not know how to hack a Facebook page, decode emails, or fight off a raging fan-girl, but I do know the best underground Chinese place in the city.” He set the bags down on the counter and when he looked up, he did a double take when he saw me. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. I had been sitting here before he left to get the door. It was like he forgot. “Uh, anyway, dig in.”

  The agents all glanced at Agent Carlson, who nodded his approval before they set their work aside. They gathered around the kitchen center island while Johnny unboxed everything. Kevin rounded the corner of the counter and retrieved a stack of plates from the cupboard. He placed them in front of me, so I handed them out. Johnny was still busy opening up the food. I took the liberty of grabbing drinks and bottles of water from the fridge.

  It seemed like a carefully choreographed dance. We all weaved around each other, everyone balancing their plate and loading up on the food. The smell was mouthwatering. I had not realized how hungry I was until I sat at the table with a pile of steaming hot food in front of me. Johnny sat next to me and dug into his own plate.

  “So, how does it feel being the bodyguard slash object of Johnny Q Venom’s affection?” Agent Webber asked as she took her seat across from me.

  I laughed nervously, caught off guard by the question.

  “Isn’t it obvious, Agent Webber?” Johnny interjected, casting a sidelong glance at me. “We’re so pretend in love she’s too overwhelmed to speak.”

  Chapter Eight

  Amanda

  “Well, I think you make a cute couple,” Agent Webber answered.

  “Yeah. So fucking adorable,” Agent Sanchez said as he sat next to her. “Now pass the egg rolls and stop kissing ass, Webber.”

  Agent Webber rolled her eyes, but handed over the plate stacked with egg rolls.

  Agent Carlson sat beside Sanchez and looked around the table. “By the way, folks. It’s good we’re all getting to know each other now. I suggest we stick to first names and aliases for the duration of this investigation. There’s nothing worse than getting so used to formalities that we end up getting made when we’re in the field.”

  “Good point,” Kevin replied.

  “So I’m Frederick, but call me Fred. Then there’s Jenny, Lucas, and Larry. And we’ve already got Johnny, Kevin, and Amanda here.”

  Kevin looked up. “Don’t get too used to your real name yet, Amanda. We’re working on something. Agent Carlson…I mean Fred, will fill you in shortly.”

  “Um, okay,” I said, confused.

  Even Johnny seemed thrown off guard by this development. Kevin would tell me soon enough, so I let it go. We all ate, and the conversation got sidetracked to some new movie. Larry was quick to express how ridiculous it was in its depiction of federal agents. I hadn’t seen the film, so I listened. I relaxed into my chair, enjoying their debate while I chowed down. Johnny kept up with the dialogue, and even Kevin piped up from time to time. Agent Carlson and I were the only ones who had not seen it. When the food was almost all eaten, the chatter at the table began to die down.

  Agent Carlson looked my way when Kevin and Johnny stood to clear the table. “Amanda, if you’re up to it, we’d like to brief you on some final details, and do a full run-through of the plans from tomorrow morning up until the end of the tour stop in Greece.”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Here,” Johnny said, reaching for my plate.

  “Are you sure you don’t need help?” I had to ask. The kitchen was a mess.

  “Positive. We didn’t hire you for this,” he said. “We can get these in the dishwasher and neaten up the kitchen. You go ahead and do your meeting.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And, the sooner you start, the sooner you can get some rest. I know you’re probably tired from the flight and limo ride over.”

  He had a playful gleam in his eye as he subtly reminded me of what we did in the limo. I bit back a smile so I wouldn’t let on to the others.

  “Yes. Good point. Thanks.”

  With Kevin in the room, I also left that glaring breadcrumb alone. I knew exactly where Johnny was going with that comment about resting tonight. And it was not going to happen—I hoped. I followed the group out to their guest office, which by now, had sprawled into the living room, the unofficial conference room. Ever
yone rang out their thanks to Johnny as we left. I glanced back at them. He and Kevin were getting to work.

  “There have been some new messages posted.” Agent Carlson said to get my attention. It worked.

  “What? When was this?” I asked, sitting in the sofa beside Agent Carlson—or Fred, now that we were all on a first-name basis.

  “There was one yesterday, and another early this morning. The perp is ramping up the number of posts, in response to promotional messages about the tour. They must have alerts to notify them of all posts on Johnny’s social media accounts. The firm that handles Johnny’s website and social media pointed it out. Every tour-related post gets a reply from the unsub, with an unusual or threatening message.”

  “What did they say in these two new posts?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

  Fred riffled through his work and handed me a couple of pages. They were full-size pictures of the two messages, time stamped, with handwritten notes in the margins.

  One said ‘Soon, you’ll be mine’ and the other, ‘Apart in life, together in death. Forever, my dear’.

  I had no fear or anxiety about coming face to face with this mystery person, but chills ran up my spine at the thought of the stalker getting to Johnny before we could stop them.

  “This is horrifying. What can we do?” I asked, handing the papers back quickly.

  “Jenny and Lucas have been working to track the IP address of the postings. Unfortunately, it looks as though they are using a series of server relays and cloaked browsers whenever they log in. We’re getting hits from all over the country. There are ways around it, but it takes time. They will remain here and continue to work on tracking down that information. When they do, they’ll meet us at the following tour stop. For now, Larry and I will travel with you throughout on the tour.”

  “Will that be enough? Just the three of us? I had planned for at least a six-person security detail to cover him off.”

  “No. Kevin has his regular security detail joining us for the flight out. There’s six of them. We have another small contingency of agents stationed in Europe. They will meet us in Greece to investigate and protect Johnny.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s talk about the slight itinerary changes. Because you will be Johnny’s personal bodyguard, posing as his girlfriend, Kevin has arranged for a photoshoot tomorrow morning. It’s nothing too complex. We’ll get it done before the flight leaves.”

  “Sorry. Can you explain?”

  “They’ll photograph you with Johnny, and someone will leak it to the media outlets before the scheduled interview.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry. They will identify you with an alias and give you a believable backstory. By five o’clock tomorrow, everyone will know who you are.”

  “Hold on a minute. They’re releasing my identity to the press…as someone else? That’s not what I signed up for. I’m running a legitimate business using my name and reputation from my MMA career.”

  I was seething. It didn’t matter that my legitimate business was still only a business plan on paper, and this gig was step one out of the gate. They made this plan without consulting me. Now they wanted to stick me under an alias, put me out front as some vulnerable girlfriend, yet keep me in the line of fire? I was not impressed by this change in direction.

  “I understand that. We won’t reveal your real name. We have a new name and identity for you. No one will track it back.”

  “How can you assure me of that? You don’t know who might recognize me.”

  My mind was racing through different worst-case scenarios. I thought this gig had the potential to make my career in private security. I never considered it could also be what drove it into the ground before I even started.

  “We thought of that too,” Fred continued. “I’m sorry we’re dropping all this on you now. Kevin has arranged for a makeover team to come here tomorrow morning before the photo shoot. Expect them really early, as they will do ‘the works’, according to Kevin—a new hair color and cut, an entire wardrobe, and some makeup tricks to slightly alter your appearance. According to Kevin, once she’s done, only your close friends and family may recognize you. Most people won’t know the truth.”

  “What do you think?” Jenny asked.

  I looked at her. I didn’t answer, because on the inside, I wanted to scream. What I wanted and what I had to do had quickly become two very different sets of things. I wanted to have a fit, refuse to do it, and remind them this wasn’t what I had signed up for. I liked my hair and appearance. I didn’t want to do anything like change my look just for some four-week gig. Most of all, I didn’t want my face plastered in gossip rag magazines all over the western world as Johnny’s eye candy of the month.

  In reality, I couldn’t say any of that, so I shrugged. “If that’s what you think is best.”

  “Excellent,” Fred answered.

  “Have you picked out my alias?”

  “That’s in the works. Not to worry. It couldn’t be any more typecast than Roxy Punisher.”

  I looked up at Fred, and he nodded. “Well, that should be all, to get you up to speed. We’ll go over the logistics of the concert itself when we’re at the hotel tomorrow night. Go ahead and get some sleep. It’s going to be an early morning and a long day of travel. Kevin mentioned the stylists will be ready for you at four tomorrow morning.”

  Fuck my life.

  “Goodnight, everyone,” I said before rising off the couch and excusing myself from the room. I trudged up the stairs, fighting back the urge to throw down with someone. I may have had the money Johnny gave me, but with each passing day, this assignment seemed like a new installment of Mission Impossible.

  Chapter Nine

  Johnny

  I knew something was wrong when I saw Amanda climb the stairs and race to her room with a grim expression on her face.

  “Hey, hold on,” I called out to her, lengthening my stride to get there before she closed her bedroom door. “Is everything okay?”

  “I… I think so. Did you know about this whole makeover plan?”

  “What makeover? Who’s it for?”

  “So you don’t know,” she said, looking away.

  “What’s this about, Amanda?”

  “They want to cut my hair, and change the way I look. It’s not just about giving me an alias for the media. They didn’t even consult me on it. I’m committed to this work, and there isn’t anything they could throw my way to make me want to back out. But this is going so far for just one month of work. I like my hair. And unlike most women, I may not be that attractive, but I like the way I look.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re gorgeous. And no, I didn’t know anything about it. Do you want me to talk to Kevin?”

  “Don’t bother. He’ll probably fight you anyway. And the FBI is already on board. I must not be pretty enough to pass as your girlfriend, but whatever,” she scoffed.

  “Come on, now. Don’t go saying that,” I told her, cupping her cheeks with both my hands. “I’m with you on this. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Amanda. You’re…perfect.”

  “Thanks, but I wouldn’t go that far. Anyway, I’m supposed to be up at four in the morning for the makeover specialists to work their magic on me. I should get to bed.”

  “You know, I can think of a few things to get your mind off this,” I said, reaching a hand around her waist to pull her in closer. “Let me show you how amazing I think you are.”

  “I don’t think—” she started, but I didn’t let her finish. I leaned down and kissed her sweet lips. At first, she relaxed into my chest, but shortly afterward, she pulled away from me.

  “I can’t tonight, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not going to be very good company tonight.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “No. Sleep well, okay?” she said.

  She stepped into her r
oom and started to close the door behind her, but I stopped her. “I won’t try anything. Come on over to my room. It looks like you need a good listener. Or a nice massage.”

  “Or both,” she said, smiling softly.

  She was definitely at odds about whether to stay or go, because after another moment, she said, “You know what? I just can’t. Good night, Johnny.”

  *****

  Amanda

  A nearly sleepless night and a three-thirty a.m. alarm to wake up made me a very cranky subject the next morning. The beauty team Kevin had rounded up to make me over was not going to enjoy my disposition. I forced a smile when I saw them. There was a makeup-artist-slash-diva, a hair stylist, someone from their wardrobe team, and another assistant who ended up giving me a manicure while my hair was being cut.

  I paid little attention to all the chatter of the women as they worked away. My only focus was on getting as much coffee into my system as quickly as possible in order to could function. I wasn’t usually a coffee person, however this situation warranted an exception. The schedule for the rest of the day was going to be brutal. Coffee was the only thing that could get me through this.

  The beauty squad refused to let me see myself as they worked. Still, I deciphered most of what was going on as they left clues. My hair fell past my shoulders and I caught a look at the tips. My blonde hair had been dyed. It was a much darker chestnut brown. The hair stylist also gave me side-swept bangs that brushed against my forehead. They had to be pinned back when the makeup artist did her thing on my face.

  She chattered endlessly as she worked, telling me exactly what she was doing so I could, in theory, replicate the look on my own while doing the tour. The tips were simple. A little shadow somewhere on the side of my nostrils would make my nose look smaller. And a little extra on a certain diagonal of my cheek would give my jawline a sharper look and thin out my cheeks to give a longer appearance to the face. I nodded along and feigned interest. Wearing a lot of makeup was never my thing, so trying to memorize her instructions was pretty useless. My hands were not going to be skilled enough to do any of this on my own. And if I had to give it a shot while on tour, it would be disastrous. I just knew it.