Dangerous Daddy

by Sarah J. Brooks

  The way he was now looking at her made her knees weak. He moved from his spot and walked over to the desk. Chelsea didn’t know what to do. Her pounding heart was drumming loudly, almost deafening her. He stopped within inches and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

  “Now, let me see more of this, Chelsea, you’re pretty when you’re angry,” he said.

  Her mouth hung open, and her eyes widened at his compliment. Was this Colt? What was his angle? Was he going to kiss her again? Her eyes flew to his lips and lingered there. Absently, her pink tongue protruded from her mouth and ran slowly over her lips. Oh, Christ, he’ll think I’m seducing him! Hell no, I couldn’t seduce a drunken dog even if I tried; there’s no way he’d even notice me.

  “You are a mystery,” he said in a gruff tone, lifting a hand and brushing her cheek.

  She flinched as he raised the other hand, held her glasses by the handles, gently pulling them from her face. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but her voice stuck in her throat. When he reached for her bun and pulled the elastic band, allowing her hair to fall free midway down her back, she gasped.

  “That’s better,” he murmured.

  He was standing so close that his male scent penetrated her nostrils. His body heat was so strong; she felt it warm her. She wanted to sag into him, feel his hard body against hers. Her breasts were rising and falling at a rapid rate as she tried to breathe normally, but failed.

  “What are you doing?” she finally managed to squeeze out. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “I just wanted to see the other Chelsea, the one who lets her hair down.”

  With a deep blush, she touched her hair. She didn’t understand this. Why was Colt acting this way? She raised her eyes to his. There he held her mesmerized for a moment. Just when she thought he was going to do something again, he broke the spell and walked away. Her knees gave way, and she slumped back into the chair, trying to still her rapid breathing.

  * * * *

  Colt clenched his jaw. What the fuck was he doing? First, he kissed her; now he was fondling her hair. His anger at her had flared quickly and died as quickly. Something strange overcame him when she offered to give her blood sample for the drug test. A pain had sliced through him when Reid made the announcement. It was a strange pain, one he never felt. Hurt. That was it. He was hurt by her offer. He knew it was a noble thing she did, but it seemed she did not trust him, and he was hurt.

  It was getting late. In 24 hours, they would be on their way to LA for another concert, a bigger one that NY. He needed rest, but most of all he needed to stop himself from obsessing over the nerd assistant. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He was peeling off his shirt when a knock came at the door. He dropped the garment on the bed and yanked the door open. She was standing there. Her large emerald eyes were wide, and her lips parted. She was staring at his chest. A smile crossed his face as he watched her swallow, and she flushed.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  She raised her eyes and handed him the cordless phone. “There’s a call from your producer,” she croaked.

  He took the phone and brought it to his ears, “Robert, what can I do for you?”

  “Colt, what’s going on? We need you to complete the album you started working on nine months ago,” the voice said into his ears.

  He grimaced. “I’ll be done in a couple of weeks, trust me,” he replied and glanced at Chelsea who had returned to her desk. “I got myself a muse.”

  “Stop messing around and get serious. I don’t care what you do in your spare time, that’s Reid’s business, but we need to put out something fresh, a single, anything,” the producer insisted.

  “I told you, I have it locked. As a matter of fact, I wrote a new song, and I want to record for LA,” he said.

  There was a slight pause before Robert replied, “Are you crazy? You’re leaving for LA in a few hours. The concert is five days away, how can you have a song out before the concert? You know what it takes to record a song. The guys will need to rehearse.”

  “No, it’s acoustic. Just me,” he replied in a low voice. “Listen. I can do it and send to you, and you work your magic.”

  “I don’t know, Colt. I know what I said, but …”

  “No buts, it’s as good as done, man. Just follow my lead.”

  He ended the conversation and hung up the phone. What Robert didn’t know was that he’d written three songs in the last twenty-four hours. He started on the album nine months ago and had four half-written songs that he could not finish. Since he kissed Chelsea, in just a few hours the lyrics of three songs just rushed from his brain. It was as if they were sitting there just waiting for something to set them free.

  “Set me free,” he hummed as he cradled the phone at the desk and walked back to his room. “I’ve been trapped by the chains of the past. Set me free.”

  Like a rushing wind, he trotted to his room and pulled out the notebook. Another slew of words rushed onto the paper through his pen. He was grinning from ear to ear as the words came forth. What could not happen in a year was now happening all in one day. It was amazing. After he was done, he leaned back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His shoulders relaxed as the new song played in his mind. Slowly he drifted off.

  Chapter 14

  He was panting hard. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Colt looked down at his hand and his shirt. They were stained red with blood. He screamed like a girl and tried to get the blood off, but the more he washed his hand, the more the blood spread. He started to run. The place was dark. He could see a light far away. It seemed like a flashlight, and someone was holding it. As he was nearing the light, he slipped and started falling. He screamed again. This time his voice echoed into the blackness until it faded.

  His eyes shot open, and he sat up with a start. He was breathing rapidly, and his heart rate had increased. Beads of sweat were chasing each other down his forehead and dripping off the tip of his nose. His hair was damp and his skin glistening from the moisture. He reached for the air conditioning remote and decreased the temperature to 10 degrees. That was cold enough to freeze a chicken.

  Flashes of memories of his past came crashing back to him. He tried to push them away, but a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. The memories were incomplete and did not make sense. He tried to sort them through but failed to make sense of them Somehow, he felt that things were about to take a turn in his life. He knew that he could not run from the past forever. Whatever lay ahead, he must face it.

  The feeling of doom started to eat at his stomach. He dragged himself from the bed, peeled off his jeans and headed to the bathroom. In the bathroom, he stepped into the shower, turning on the faucet. As the water trickle over his body, he thought of his mother and the fact that he hadn’t seen her in a few years. She refused to see him, and it hurt. He knew why she was keeping him at bay. It was for his own good, but he needed her.

  His mind went back further to the day he left Clearlake. Now as he headed to California, his home state, a myriad of emotions bombarded him. What was supposed to be a happy occasion, a sort of homecoming, filled him with regret. When he left home as a 13-year-old, he promised his mother never to return. He was a coward then, and it seemed he was a coward still. How could he leave her to suffer alone?

  He turned the faucet to the fullest and let the water beat on his skin. Slowly he pushed the past behind, concentrating on his present. He didn’t want to do the LA concert, but he steeled himself for it. Now that he’d written a few more songs, maybe things wouldn’t be as bad.

  He turned the water off and stepped from the shower, grabbing the towel. When he returned to the room, he noticed the light on his cell phone flashing. He picked it up, and there were two missed calls from an unknown number. He ignored it and continued toweling himself. He was rubbing his hair dry when the phone rang.

  Thinking it was important, he answered. “Yeah,” he grunted into it.

  “I know all your secrets, you and y
our mother’s. I’ll reveal all to the world, Colt.”

  “Jason, what do you want? How’d you get this number?”

  His stepbrother snickered. “You don’t worry about that.”

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  Another snicker from Jason, “Money. Cold hard cash. You’ve got loads of it. You can afford to part with a few measly dollars.”

  His chest tightened, his earlier feeling of dread started to wash over him, overwhelming him. Anger started to rise in him, mingled with his pent up frustrations, his bad memories of the past and all the crap he’d have to deal with.

  “Fuck off Jason!” He hung up the phone.

  The phone rang again. He’d have to change his number yet again. The phone was brand new along with the number he got only three weeks ago. How did his stepbrother get the number? What did he mean he needed money? Was this some sort of blackmail? The phone beeped, indicating a message.

  There were a voice message and a text. He read the text first. “100,000 dollars is all I need right now.” He was about to delete it but changed his mind. He was also tempted to delete the voice message, but he listened to it as well. “I have a buddy I think you may know, Carl, the journalist. He’s willing to pay me five grand to talk. You pay me what I ask, and I keep my mouth shut.” There was a click.

  Chapter 15

  As Chelsea stepped onto the new tour bus, her eyes widened in awe at the beauty within. The background of the exterior was white, with photos of the band members in the foreground and the band name written in purple. There were curtains at the tinted windows, plush sofa-like seats for relaxation and a small kitchen area with a fridge. There was even a small toilet onboard.

  It was obvious that the interior was specially designed for the team. The original seats were taken out and fitted with sofas with their back to the windows. There were only four regular seats at the front.

  “Move along,” Mike urged behind her.

  “Sorry,” she replied, slowly moving down the aisle.

  She ran her hand along the beige leather that covered the seats while her eyes settled on the daybed at the back. There were pillows and a drape to pull for privacy. She looked around for a place to settle but had no clue where to seat herself. Everything was so luxurious that she was afraid to unsettle anything.

  “What’s the matter?” Tony’s smooth tone brought a smile to her face.

  She turned, and her eyes rested on him lounging in one of the seats. “Where should I sit?”

  With a lazy stretch, he sat up, tapping the seat beside him. As she moved to slide in beside him, someone grabbed her arm, pulling her up. Her back hit a solid rock and a ripple of current ran through her. Her heart began to thud unevenly, and her breath caught in a gasp.

  “Chelsea sits near her boss,” Colt’s deep drawl directed at Tony.

  “She works for the band, doesn’t she?” Tony connected eyes with Colt. “That makes her equally my employee as yours.”

  Colt’s answer was a gentle nudge towards the back of the bus. Before he moved off, he gave Tony a cutting stare that could slice a slab of steak in two. Chelsea almost stumbled trying to move away from the heat of his hand as it gripped her arm. At the rear of the bus, she dropped into the last seat on the left and Colt sat on the right.

  She wasn’t looking forward to the long ride between NY and LA. They would have to make a few stops for food, but they would spend most of the next few days in close quarters. The itinerary said five days travel. They would be stopping once for a photo shoot, which should take just about two hours. She glanced at the itinerary to make sure everything was set before stuffing it back into its folder.

  She could feel Colt’s eyes burn into her, and she wanted to tell him to stop it. Her heart had not calmed after the body contact. When she chanced a glance his way, he was lounging with his back resting on the window and his face in her direction. His eyes were hooded, but she could see him looking at her through slits.

  She shuffled uncomfortably and pulled a book from her bag. She was almost done reading this one and her other books were neatly stored in her suitcase in the luggage compartment. She could kick herself for not taking more than one book inside the bus. She would have to wait for one of the stops to take one out.

  “Chelsea?” Reid entered the bus, calling for her.

  She was glad for the reprieve from Colt’s eyes. She dropped the book on the seat and picked up her handbag. Colt’s eyes followed her as she brushed past his seat. Tony was still fuming. His eyes were closed, but his brows knitted in a frown, and his lips pursed tightly.

  “Yes,” she reached the steps.

  “Follow me,” the manager said, stepping down and walking towards the hotel lobby.

  “What’s the matter?” she questioned as she ran up behind him.

  He continued but turned his head slightly. “Remember what we talked about?”

  “What?” She was confused.

  He stopped so abruptly that she collided with his back. She stepped back as he turned to face her, his titanium eyes glinting. “Your wardrobe. You promised to let the girl in the hotel boutique outfit you.”

  “I … we … I …” she mumbled.

  “I went to pay the bill, and guess what? There was nothing to pay!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s go. She picked out some things for you. You have ten minutes to fit them.”

  “But …” She started to protest.

  “But nothing, Chelsea. How long will you walk around looking like that? You are the manager’s assistant to the number two rock band in the country and the number seven worldwide. Do you know what that means?” She shook her head. Reid was beginning to scare her. “It means you will be under the public radar soon.”

  “Oh,” her eyes widened.

  “Yes, very soon, you will be interviewed; you will become the center of attention as the only female in the group. You will become as famous as me.” He grinned. “So your image needs to match that fame. Got that?” His grin faded, and he glared at her threateningly.

  “Okay,” she whispered, nervously.

  He moved off again, and she followed like a puppet. Her knees were weak as she wondered what kind of outfits she would be required to wear for the band. She was the only female employee, but that didn’t mean she had to compromise her standards. Did it?

  The clerk handed her a pile of clothes as she walked in. Reid was snapping his fingers and looking at his watch. They had less than twenty minutes before the driver was scheduled to start the engine. She had ten minutes to choose.

  There was no time to fit them all. There were five dresses, four pairs of jeans and about a dozen or so tops. She dropped the pile on a small table attached to the dressing room wall, and then rifled through them checking the labels for the sizes. Luckily, she knew she was a size eight … well, not quite since she always wore two or more sizes larger than her actual size. She picked out the right sizes and was amazed that the clerk got them correct. Almost all the garments were size six, and the tops were tailored to accommodate her 36D cup boobs.

  A knock at the dressing room door made her jump. “Yes?” she answered.

  “I got some cosmetics as well,” the clerk said.

  She grabbed the clothes she was keeping, picked up the three pieces that she didn’t like, and pulled the door open.

  “I’m done choosing,” she told the blonde haired, blue-eyed angel staring at her.

  “Come with me, Reid is scowling,” The girl leaned in close and whispered, “Doesn’t he just look funny when he’s mad?”

  Chelsea chuckled and eyed her curiously. “Yes, he does.”

  They walked to the cosmetic counter, and the girl handed her a few items. I chose these for you. You do know how to apply makeup right?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, eying the array of items being stuffed in her hands.

  “Let me get you a bag, and this is a gift,” the girl added a bottle of perfume to the mix. “We’re done.”

  “Go
od,” Reid said. He was right behind them. “Get back to the bus. I’ll take care of this.”

  * * * *

  She unzipped her suitcase, which was lying on the bed in the motel room. They had made their first rest stop for a change of clothes and food at a motel. They drove all night, and the driver was resting while Reid took the wheel. He’d slept most of the trip and was ready to give the driver a break. She just stepped from the shower, wrapped her bathrobe around her and was about to get on some clothes when she noticed how scanty the case was.

  “Where is my stuff? I packed everything,’” she muttered, trying to recall if she had unpacked at some time during the night before. “No, I packed up everything and Ben helped me take my case to the lobby where everything went on the trolley.”

  Ben had been loyal since the incident with the photo. She recalled early that morning as he presented himself at her room door, declaring himself as her personal attendant. He took her case down, and she watched as he placed it on the trolley with the band’s luggage. She had watched the other attendant push the trolley out into the early morning sun towards the parked bus.

  She could see him unload the stuff, stuffing them inside the luggage compartment. The bus was parked across the drive directly in front of the main entrance. She shook the memory and tried to figure out what happened since. Who would want to steal her clothes?

  With a frustrated sigh, she pulled a pair of jeans and top from the items she got from the hotel boutique. Before she could get her clothes on, a knock sounded at her door. She pulled her robe tightly around her and yanked the door open. Reid was standing there. His eyes settled on her wet hair and then traveled down to her breasts. Absently, she clutched the robe.

  “What’s taking you so long?”

  “We just came here. You said we’d shower and grab some food,” she protested.

  “We’ll get some food about a mile down the road. Get some clothes on; we’re leaving in five minutes,” he said as he walked off.

  She was about to close the door when she stopped. “I think someone messed with my suitcase,” she told him.