USED by Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Box Set

by Sarah J. Brooks

  The bleep of her cell phone caught her attention, and she tore her eyes away from Reid to check it. It was from an unknown number. All the message said was, ‘He is not who he appears to be.’ There was nothing else. She was not sure what that meant. About whom were they talking? She waited for another message to clarify things, but nothing came. She dismissed it as a mistaken number. Not long after, the phone rang. She snatched it up after two rings and answered before viewing the number.

  “Hello?”

  “He’s going down … click.”

  “Who is this?” she blurted out as the click came.

  The voice was distorted as if the person was using a voice scrambler. The click of the phone echoed in her ear.

  “Hello? Hello!” she yelled.

  She knew it was futile because the caller hung up. How did they get her number? Was it the same person who texted her before?

  “What’s the matter?” Reid’s head snapped up from his seat. “What happened?” His eyes connected with hers the way they used to. The old Reid was back. He stared at her a moment before he rose, walked over and slid beside her in the seat.

  “It’s nothing, maybe a prank call,” she said. She fidgeted uneasily.

  “Look,” he began, resting his elbows on his knees while turning his head to look at her. “I’m sorry, okay?” His voice was low and calm. “I shouldn’t have thrown your stuff away, but I knew you’d want to still wear them even with the new stuff.”

  “I ... you shouldn’t have done it,” she replied with a slight stutter.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I just need you to start looking the part. You do good work; we all like you …” he was saying.

  “That’s not true. Colt doesn’t like me,” she blurted out without thinking.

  “Colt likes no one … don’t tell him I said that.” He chuckled.

  She smiled. “What about what he said. You were looking at my breasts?” She cast her eyes down as she asked. Her heart fluttered just a little.

  “I’m sorry about that too. I … didn’t intend to … it just was there … I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “You did try to calm me down.”

  “So tell me what happened just now, prank call? You looked concerned.”

  She wasn’t sure if telling Reid was a good idea. He perhaps would have the number traced and arrest the person for harassment. On the other hand, they texted and then called. Who was to say they wouldn’t do it again? She found the text, showed it to Reid, and then told him what the caller said.

  His face became like stone. His eyes hardened while she told him what the caller said. But all he told her was, “You’re probably right, prank call. You need to block your cell from receiving unknown calls.”

  “Can I do that?” She was surprised that was possible.

  “Yes, call your cell phone service. They will do it.”

  “Thank you” She said with a smile.

  “Now, am I forgiven?” He smiled back.

  His face softened, and his eyes crinkled. She never noticed that before. He looked completely different when he smiled. Even his eyes softened and reflected baby blue flecks. For the first time, she saw how attractive he was.

  The bus rolled to a stop, and Chelsea checked the itinerary to see where they were scheduled to be. Wild Orchids Resort and Spa. They were to spend the next 48 hours there, where they would have a press meeting, CDs and T-Shirt giveaways.

  “Wait for Colt, I’ll get things settled in the hotel,” Reid told her. “Don’t leave the bus without him; he’s known for his disappearing acts.”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  The others left the vehicle while Reid rushed to the hotel front desk to make sure everything was in place. Though he had called to confirm their rooms, he always did a final check when the group arrived. There was no movement from Colt’s corner, so she gathered her belongings and went to rouse him. The bus could only stay for ten minutes in front of the hotel.

  “Colt,” she said his name loud enough for him to hear through the curtain. There was no answer. She called aloud, “Colt!”

  When he did not respond, she pulled back the drapery just a little and peaked in. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed and a pair of headphones on. What should she do? It was seven minutes since they arrived. She reached her hand out to touch him but dropped it.

  “Colt?” she called out. Her voice was not as clear as she intended.

  This time when she reached out to touch him, her stomach fluttered. Slowly, she bent and reached down to touch his shoulder. That was a safe place to nudge. She gently gripped his shoulder, giving it a slight nudge. His eyes flew open, immediately settling on her. She withdrew her hand and stepped back, but he grabbed her before she could slither away. He used the other hand to pull away the headphone.

  “What is it?” His lips barely moved, but his voice was still the same … deep and rich.

  His grip was hot, burning through her skin. The fire shot up her arm and spread through her body. She tried to pull from his grasp, but her attempts were weak. The more she wiggled her hand, the hotter his palm felt.

  “Hum … well … the bus … hotel …” she stuttered. Oh God, why do I feel like an idiot around him, blabbering like a fool?

  “Oh, we’re there?” he said in a toneless manner, dropping her hand.

  She rubbed the area, trying to relieve the feverishness on her skin. Colt swung his legs from the bed and picked up a notebook. When she walked out of the bus, he was right behind her. She half expected him to disappear by the time they reached the hotel lobby. He did not.

  18. Eight

  A figure stepped from the shadows at the end of the hall near the emergency staircase, just as Reid closed his door near 3 a.m. The lonely figure walked briskly towards the suite door, bent and slipped a white envelope beneath the door. Just as quickly, they slipped away to the elevator and punched in zero for the lobby.

  Reid kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, after which he wrangled himself from his jacket. The approaching summer was becoming quite humid. They were to spend two days in Missouri, and those 48 hours were going to be quite hectic. Colt was in one of his silent modes, and Chelsea was acting weirder than usual. He wondered if she had gotten over the fiasco with her clothes.

  He was unbuckling his belt when he realized he left his cell phone in the suite. The setup was similar to the last time, four-bedroom suite, living, dining, and kitchenette. This was smaller than in NYC, but it would do for the two days. He booked the suite for the boys, a single room for Chelsea and another for himself. Colt hated it but knew it was better for appearances. Moreover, they needed a place to set the instruments out and the suite of rooms with extra space was ideal. The press would be coming to the hotel a few hours later that afternoon, so the setup was ideal. There were two sets of instruments. The ones used on stage and their personal collection.

  He was of two minds. Should he let the phone stay until he returned in a couple of hours? No. There was always something happening, and he needed to stay alert. He snapped the buckle back in place and retraced his steps, stepping into the hall without his shoes. As he pulled his door closed, he thought he saw the elevator door shut. He paid it no mind. This was a hotel after all.

  He opened the suite door, and his bare foot crunched something. There was a white envelope under his foot. He picked it up and peered closely at the letters scrawled across it. It looked like a child wrote it. A smile spread across his face.

  “Fan letter from a child? Maybe a boy who wants to be a rock star.” He chuckled.

  He went over to his desk and looked around. His cell phone was not there. While rummaging through the desk drawer, Colt’s door opened. He looked surprised when he saw Reid and cocked a questioning brow.

  “I thought you left,” Colt stated.

  “Ha, found it.” Reid withdrew the cell phone from under a pile of files near the laptop. “Came back for this.” He held up the phone and handed hi
m the envelope. “Oh, and I found this pushed under the door.”

  Colt snatched the envelope and stared at his name scribbled across the front. He wedged his forefinger under the flap and ran it along the glue strip. The small crackling sound broke the silence, followed by the rustling of paper as he withdrew a single sheet.

  His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to the light bulb on the wall. Colt stared at the single sheet of white paper for a long time. His knuckles became white as he gripped it before he crunched it in his fist and tossed it across the room. It hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor. Reid’s eyes narrowed. He was across the room in seconds, picking up the ball of paper. He smoothed it out, trying to make out the similar handwriting as on the envelope.

  “A hundred grand, and I keep my mouth shut. If not, you’re finished.”

  “Fucking piece of shit!” Reid blurted. He raked his hand through his hair and strode over to Colt. “Give him a call. Let’s get rid of him before the concert. You …” he started to say.

  “I’m not giving that piece of shit a dime!” Colt almost shouted.

  “He won’t go away, Colt. He’s been following you from state to state. Now he’s making demands.”

  Reid seethed inside. This stepbrother issue was beginning to piss him off. He wanted to beat the crap out of that Jason fellow and send him home. Wait. They were headed to Colt’s home state in less than a week. It was going to be difficult getting rid of him without paying him off. He could do the transaction, but the accountant would have to know about it, and eventually Colt would know. If he took the money from his personal funds, Colt wouldn’t have to know right away. Nevertheless, he would need to be reimbursed.

  “No!” Colt’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

  His head shot up and met the rock star’s glare. “What?” he asked.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s no,” his deep voice was gravelly.

  “Look Colt, let’s get rid of him once and for all. We’ll have the lawyer write up a contract, we give him 250 grand and have him sign the contract. If he breaks it, then we take action.” He had not thought it through. The words just slipped from his mind.

  “No fucking way I’m giving Jason 250 grand. You must be crazy!”

  Reid stepped close to him. He was fast becoming annoyed with Colt’s stubbornness. “Can’t you see that Jason is out for blood? You know that Carl Benson won’t rest until he takes you down for what you did to his sister.”

  “I didn’t do anything! She was crazy; how was that my fault?”

  “We know that, but the fellow blamed you. Now, he’s …”

  “… a fucking stalker, like his mentally ill sister!” Colt finished.

  Reid shook his head. “I was going to say that he’s out for blood, but you hit the nail on the head.”

  They both fell silent for a moment while Reid contemplated his next move. A concert was scheduled the very next day that they would arrive in LA, which was five days away. He had to do something or Jason would show up again, like the last time. He thought about what Jason would say to Carl if he weren’t paid what he asked for. With a new idea forming in his head, he turned to Colt.

  “What if you tell your story, just get it out?”

  Colt looked at him incredulously. His brows knitted in a deep frown as he stared at him in disbelief. Reid saw the answer in his eyes. He tried to think of something else, but the other solution was putting a stop order on Jason saying anything. It would not be easy. Getting a stop order would mean having reasonable cause to get one. He would have to prove that what was being said would be an invasion of Colt’s privacy.

  “You’ve flipped a switch, Reid,” was Colt’s grating reply. “How can I tell something I can’t even remember?”

  No, he hadn’t flipped a switch. He’d spent the last ten years working to build Colt’s reputation. He’d spent the last decade running around making sure his past stayed where it belonged. He was a child when all hell broke loose.

  Although Colt suppressed most of his memories, no one would blame him for what went wrong. Reid knew the entire story, but Colt had no clue what that story really was. However, if that information got into the wrong hands, it could be a death sentence for Colt. Carl Benson was out to destroy the star, and that information could be the ammunition he needed to do just that.

  “Why can’t you do one thing I ask, Colt?” He sounded tired. “Just tell what you remember.”

  Reid was tired. Tired of all the drama. When he wasn’t running around clearing Colt’s name from association with drugs, he was keeping his sex life out of the public eye. People were fickle, and Colt didn’t care. They claimed they love bad boys, but the minute his picture appeared under a negative headline, they went crazy. They say they love him, but where are they when he needs them to defend him? He could not leave things to chance. Both Benson and Jason needed to be taken care of … fast.

  “Paying the blackmailer or bearing my soul to the world?” was Colt’s sarcastic query.

  It’s not bearing your soul, Colt,” he retorted.

  “Then what do you ca …” his voice cut off mid-sentence.

  There was a sound at the door, and then it pushed open. Reid glanced at his watch and noted that it was near 6 a.m. He was mortified. How could the time run so fast? He needed some shuteye, but the thing with Colt ate away at the time. Chelsea stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Colt grabbed the paper he’d been holding and walked to his bedroom.

  “Good morning,” she greeted in her soft voice while Colt’s door closed with a snap.

  “Yeah, morning,” Reid grunted while walking to the door. “See you in a bit.”

  As the suite door closed, Chelsea stared at it in confusion. Something was off. She could sense the tension in the room. Usually, Colt would stare at her for a few minutes before closing himself off, but today he barely glanced her way. Reid’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, that much she was able to discern in the short span in which they crossed paths. It was apparent he had little to no sleep. Moreover, he was not dressed, wearing his shirttails out and in the same clothes as the day before.

  Something was definitely amiss. Was Colt in trouble again? She quickly pushed that from her mind and picked up her to-do list. There were a million and one things to do before the press meeting. She started by making a few calls before the phone on the desk rang. The hotel was kind enough to give them a private extension to make their business calls. Reid knew how to set up his business while on the road.

  “Hello?”

  There was a click and then dial tone. By the time she started to dial one of the numbers on her list, the phone rang again.

  “Hello?” There was silence. “Hello!’ she said much louder. “Can I help you?”

  She replaced the cordless in the cradle and stared at the instrument, almost afraid to pick it up again. When it rang once more, she jumped. She expected it, but still, it startled her. She was almost afraid to pick it up. Slowly, she retried it, took a deep breath and steeled herself.

  “Hello,” her voice was curt and clipped. There was what sounded like someone breathing. “If you are trying to scare me for some reason … go fuck yourself!” She pressed the red button and slammed it into the cradle.

  “Chelsea?” Reid’s voice came from the door. “You?” His brows were raised and his eyes wide.

  She didn’t have time to be amused by his expression. Her blood was running hot in her veins. “Who the hell does that?”

  “What happened?” He walked over to her and searched her face.

  “Someone keeps calling but says nothing. Then there was heavy breathing. If I get my hands on them for wasting my time!”

  “It’s perhaps a crazed fan. I’ll handle the rest of the calls. Go pick up some food. You know Colt is fussy, he hates hotel food, delivered food …” Reid said.

  “He hates everything doesn’t he?”

  The manager chuckled. She left him to handle the calls while she was g
lad for the fresh air.

  Reid watched as Chelsea closed the door behind her. He had to send her on an errand so he could get Colt alone. The boys were sleeping and perhaps would not awaken until noon. The press meeting was at 1:30 p.m,, so they had time to rest.

  He knocked Colt’s door and pushed. He was lying on his stomach, crossway on the bed and obviously asleep, still in the towel he had on earlier. He entered the room and noisily shut the door. Colt’s eyes shot open, and he turned to look up at him.

  “You’re disturbing my beauty sleep,” he said, waving Reid away.

  “He’s harassing Chelsea,” Reid stated.

  Colt turned over, undoing the towel and revealing more than Reid cared to see. “Cover yourself, I don’t need to see that,” he told him.

  Colt stood and dropped the towel, then pulled a pair of jeans from the hotel room closet. “Talk to me about Chelsea and stop joking around. What do you mean he’s harassing her?”

  “She got some weird text and a call while we were in transit. But since we arrived, she’s gotten several blank calls.”

  Colt turned sharply while zipping his jeans. “And you’re now telling me this?” Reid noticed the glint in the musician’s eyes. He noticed it the other morning at the motel. He knew Colt. He’d known him for more than a decade, and he knew his moods. This was different. He would watch to make sure his instincts about Colt were right.

  “If you’d done what I asked …”

  “He will not get a penny from me, got that?’ Where is Chelsea?” Colt inquired.

  “I sent her on an errand,” he replied.

  Colt raked his hand through his hair. He was clearly angry as he gave Reid a cutting reply, “How can you send her out there when you know that bastard is harassing her? What if he confronts her?”