“Do you think …?” his voice trailed off as he realized that was a very real possibility.
He’d been so preoccupied with the promotions that he failed to realize that Jason was actually following them across the country. The itinerary was publicly displayed on the website for the fans. He must know where they were at every step of the way.
“Jeez, that motherfu … he’s following us!”
Colt glared at him. “I’m going to break that twit’s neck,” his tone dripped with venom.
19. Nine
The press brief was … brief. There were exactly six journalists, all by invitation only. They were from five magazines and one newspaper. This was a deliberate set up by Reid in his style of promoting Colt. Of course, Purple Crush needed no promotion. According to the manager, he needed organization, and that’s what he was doing. He wanted Colt’s image to shine and not be tarnished by the likes of Carl Benson.
Chelsea watched as the last journalist, a pretty redhead smiled and batted her eyes at Colt. She leaned over and placed a dainty hand on his knee. They were facing each other in two armchairs, in a casual type setting. Chelsea observed as Colt grinned and settled his eyes on the woman’s breasts. Her own chest tightened, and she felt a twinge of annoyance settle in there.
She snickered and turned away, but not before the girl casually placed a business card on his thigh. He picked it up and turned it over with a grin. She turned away, starting to feel a dark mood come over her.
They were scheduled to go hand out T-shirts at a local club later in the evening, but suddenly a splitting headache pressed at her temples. She cleaned up after the last interviewer left and went to get some alone time.
As she was about to open her room door, a hand shot out and grabbed the knob. “Hello. It’s Chelsea, right?” a man’s voice asked.
She turned, and her eyes made contact with Carl Benson’s sharp ones. “Please, let go of the door. I have nothing to say to you about Colt.”
He dropped his hand and replied. “I don’t want to talk about Colt. I want to talk about you.”
She turned sharply to face him. “What … why?” She scrunched her face in confusion.
“People want to know about the mysterious girl that works with the group.”
She recalled what Reid told her. He’d said that her image was important and that she would be on the radar. However, she did not trust this Carl Benson fellow. Was he the one calling her and hanging up.
“Did you call me yesterday and today, then hang up?”
His brow shot up. “No, you have a secret admirer?”
“No,” she shook her head. “It must have been a prank call.”
“Tell me what happened,” he suggested.
She looked gravely at him. There was something he was fishing for; she just knew it. There was no way he was there just to interview her. He knew about the press meeting and wanted information. Should she play along to find out what he was after? Maybe she could find out why he was after Colt as well.
“I’ll talk to you, but not here,” she said. “Let’s have coffee on the dining room terrace.”
He allowed her to lead the way to the elevator. A smile seemed to permanently affix itself to his face. She figured he felt he’d got her where he wanted. She planted a smile of her own. Her temples were still pounding, but she needed to figure out what Carl Benson was up to. They found a seat on the terrace, and she ordered a cup of mint instead of coffee, the mint would relax her.
“So, Chelsea where are you from,” Carl threw at her.
With a sweet smile, she replied, “Virginia, and you?”
“California. So tell me, how did you land a job such as this all the way from … which town is it?”
“A very small town that nobody cares about.” She shrugged.
She removed her glasses and ran her fingers through her hair to detangle it. She’d watched it in the movies that these things were seductive. Was she trying to seduce this person? Maybe. She closed her eyes and slightly tilted her head back while fluffing her hair. When she opened her eyes, Carl was staring at her with his strange smile.
“What’s it like working for Colt?” he asked.
“I thought you said this interview is about me.” She leaned forward and placed her elbow on the table.
“It is. How you get along with the rock star is about you.” The scornful way he said ‘rock star’ didn’t go unnoticed by her.
She shrugged. “Why don’t you ask the questions you really want to ask, Mr. Benson?”
“What do you mean?”
She met his eye. Tapped her right foot under the table, something she did when she was unsure of herself. However, she presented a confident smile and held the journalist’s gaze.
“Stop beating around the bush and ask what you really want to ask.”
He grinned, still holding her stare. She tried hard not to blink or look away. This was strange for her. It was not like when she and Colt’s eyes met. That was different. She could do nothing about the mesmerizing effect Colt had on her. However, this was all her own willpower, something she was never used to doing.
“That all depends how much you’re willing to tell,” he leaned forward and said.
“What do you want to know?” She smiled again, trying not to let her face hurt.
“How well do you know him? Are you close with him?”
She forced her foot to stop its tapping and took a deep breath. With the need to know exactly what he wanted, Chelsea knew she needed to act as if she was willing to talk. There was a buzzing in her ear, and the throbbing at her temple was at a steady beat. A wave of nausea washed over her, but she swallowed hard, trying to keep her smile.
“Are you okay?” Benson asked with a frown.
“Why?”
He pointed to her forehead. “Beads of sweat there, and you look pale.”
“Just a headache,” she said.
She blinked, and that did it. The second her eyelids touched was the second she felt a wave of dizziness over her. She tried to keep her focus, but when she tried to look at Carl, he was swimming before her eyes. She was sinking into a dark abyss, and then everything went black.
Colt paced his room in the suite with his back rigid and jaw clenched. The tension was making his neck stiff, but as long as Jason Williams was around, he would have to deal with it. It was one thing dealing with the prick, but now he was pestering Chelsea. Was he the one with her when she passed out? The jerk did not even have the courage to call for help; he slipped away and then called the hotel front desk to tell them she’d passed out.
“Coward motherfu …” he pursed his lips, cutting off the expletive.
He opened the door and called for Reid. The man was standing by the window looking out over the hotel gardens. He turned when he heard Colt’s voice. Concern was etched on his face, and Colt’s fury escalated.
“Do it,” was all he said.
Reid shot up one brow, and then he relaxed his face. “Yeah,” he nodded his head.
“How is she?”
“She’s awake, says she had a headache and nausea,” Reid replied.
“Why did she go to the terrace with him, did he threaten her? I swear if he’s threatened her, I’ll kill him myself.”
Reid shook his head, “I don’t know. We’ll ask her when she feels better. She’s resting now.”
He needed to see her to make sure she was alright, but that wasn’t his style. Going to her room, inquiring about her welfare would shock her and everyone else. They all knew he was a jerk, and he intended to keep it that way. It served him well in the past, and he intended to make it serve him way into the future. He would just have to ride it out and wait.
In the meantime, he needed to take care of Jason. Reid was already making the necessary arrangements to have the money delivered. Losing 250 grand was nothing; he just knew that the deadbeat would keep coming back if he caved. But he could not have him harassing Chelsea. That’s why he gave in.
“The lawye
r’s drawing up the contract,” Reid interrupted his thoughts. “Go see her,” he added.
“I don’t need to; you take care of her.”
Reid placed a hand on his shoulder. “Colt, I know you want to see her. I can see it in your eyes.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he replied and shrugged off his manager’s hand. “Since when have I ever needed anyone?”
His heart skipped several beats talking about Chelsea and thinking about her. He could feel his blood rushing hot in his veins at the sound of her name. She was like a drug, giving him a heady sensation, making him feel high. What the fuck? he swore in his mind at his train of thought. Drug? More the hell like poison!
“Anything you say, buddy, anything you say.” Read nodded.
“Just make sure when we’re done with that little twit, I never hear from or see him again,” he told the older man.
“Yes boss.” Reid grinned.
He snickered. They were leaving to go back on the road the following morning, but he was concerned that Chelsea might not be up to it. He could have her fly there instead of the long trip driving through several more states.
“Why the hell did we buy a bus instead of a jet?”
Reid looked at him sharply. “Because a bus brings you close to the people. We talked about this, Colt.”
“I know, but look what happened. How can she manage the road if she’s sick?”
“Colt, she ain’t that sick. It happens. She said she had a headache, and then she was dizzy; that’s what happened.”
Colt was not convinced. “Did you ask her about Jason? What did he say to her?”
“No, I haven’t asked her yet.”
There was a few minutes silence while he thought of what to do about Chelsea before they left in the morning. He was about to suggest to Reid that he fly her to LA and have her wait there when the door opened and she slowly entered. Her skin was still pale, but her emerald pools seemed to glower at him. Her face was also set as if angry. He decided to leave well enough alone until a later time.
20. Ten
5 p.m. …
The fax machine whirred noisily as the paper slowly pushed through the exit. Reid had borrowed the machine from the hotel office and set it up in his room. It was reasons like this that he always got his own private quarters whenever they stayed at a hotel. No one needed to know what happened behind the scenes with Colt. They would not understand.
Even Colt himself would not understand why he protected him so much. He came from a similar situation and knew exactly what Colt and his mother experienced. He respected Colt for what he did to save his mother. He wished he’d had the courage to do the same. That was why he promised the rock star’s mother always to protect him no matter what. He only wished Colt would remember so they could wrap up the past and be done with it.
There was a beep, indicating the fax was complete. He picked up three sheets of paper signed by Colt’s personal lawyer and looked over the contents. Everything seemed to be in order. There was also a gag order included. Reid didn’t know how the lawyer pulled that off, but there it was, signed by Judge Hendricks of California with a nationwide gag order.
He picked up the phone, dialing Colt’s cell. He answered after three rings. “Speak to me,” the cocky bastard said into the phone.
“I got the papers. You want to check them out before tonight?”
“Why do I need to check them?”
Reid rolled his eyes. “Colt, you should do these things. How can you sign documents you haven’t read? I keep telling you that’s not wise. One of these days, I’ll just take all your money and disappear.”
“Yeah … right. What time are we supposed to go meet that twit again?”
“Eight.”
At 8 p.m. …
Reid thought it best they hired a car, and he agreed. He wasn’t in the mood to see Jason but wanted to get this over with. When he left home all those years ago, he never thought he’d see the evil stepbrother again. His father died when he was about two, and his mother remarried when he was about eleven and Jason was twelve. Their stepfather was a drunk … a very abusive one.
Colt shuddered at the memory and pushed it from his mind. He hoped that after this deal, the bastard would leave him the hell alone. He would have been willing to let things be as they were if the scumbag didn’t get Chelsea involved. The thought of him even getting close to her, speaking to her made his blood boil.
Absently, his fists doubled as he stared out the car window into the blackness. Reid was at the wheel, and they were on their way to the rendezvous. Only for Chelsea, he thought. But the thought surprised even himself that he would take such drastic measure for a girl, let alone one with which he had no relations. But there was something about her. She was stuck with him, and he couldn’t shake her. He wanted to protect her; that was all.
“That’s it,” he muttered to himself. “That’s all it is.”
“What?” Reid asked, taking his eye off the road a second.
“Nothing,” he said with a smile. “How much longer?”
“We’re there,” the manager replied slowing the vehicle.
Through the glaring headlights, he made out a figure in a white suit. He didn’t look strapped for cash. In fact, he must have lived a comfortable life after collecting on the insurance for his father. His sister had run away at 17, and no one heard from her since. He would have been the only one left to enjoy all that money.
Reid got out of the car and beckoned Jason over. They both slid into the back seat. He knew Reid had a licensed firearm in the glove compartment, and he wasn’t afraid to use it if necessary.
“What’s up bro?” Jason greeted happily.
Colt did not respond.
“Sign these and quarter mil is yours to keep,” Reid stated, handing the blackmailer the papers.
“What’s a gag order?” Jason asked.
Colt glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “It’s to keep your fucking trap shut!”
“Come now bro; that’s the way to treat your brother?”
Colt turned in his seat, scowling at Jason. “You are not my brother.”
“If that’s the way you want it?” Jason’s face tightened. “No deal.”
“Then get your ass out of the car,” Reid’s icy tone cut in. “Did that record, Colt?”
“Yeah, it’s running.” Colt grinned, holding up his phone.
On the screen was what was happening in the car. A tiny camera was fitted to the dashboard, a precaution suggested by the attorney. They had to have something to use in case this got out of hand. The lawyer said that all blackmailers always returned to the source of money. Jason could not be trusted to just sign the papers and leave them alone. They needed something more.
“What the fuck?” Jason, who was about to get out of the car, fell back against the seat. “What the fuck is all this?”
“Deal or no deal? What will it be?” Reid asked.
With a stoned expression and pursed lips, Jason grabbed the papers from Reid’s grasp. The band manager handed him a pen. He quickly signed all the documents, and Reid pulled a large manila envelope from the driver’s seat. Jason frowned as he hesitantly took the envelope.
“What?” Reid chuckled. “You were expecting a briefcase? You think this is the movies?” He gave an amused laugh. “You really are a dumb shit. Two hundred and fifty grand … count it.”
“I’m good,” Jason replied, barely glancing inside the package.
As Reid got into the driver’s seat, he had one piece of advice. “Don’t spend it all in one place, and if you ever come near Chelsea again, no one will find your body,” he almost shouted as Jason walked away. Before he slammed the door shut, the guy gave him the finger.
* * * *
The morning presented bleakness, showing signs of rain as the bus rolled out of the hotel parking space. There was a chill in the Missouri air with dark gray clouds rolling in. This would slow the journey, but they moved out just the sa
me.
Colt kept his eye on Chelsea. He wanted to ask her what Jason said to her but wasn’t certain how to approach it. Reid was at the front of the bus discussing with Mike something about the concert. Andrew was fast asleep beside Tony, and Cory was strumming on a guitar.
“This is boring as shit!” Cory blurted out.
“What do you want? A sing-along?” Tony asked.
Andrew opened his eyes and remarked, “That ain’t such a bad idea. We could practice the new songs Colt wrote.”
“What do you say, Chelsea?” Tony eyed Colt when he asked her.
Her face brightened with a broad, sunny smile. Colt felt his heart jolt and inside the bus became so bright that he forgot the bleakness outside. His heart raced looking at her face, then she turned and looked at him, and everything faded.
“Will you sing?” she asked.
“Colt never reh …” Tony said, but Cot cut him short.
“Yes.”
Andrew suddenly sat up, staring at Colt with shock. Mike and Reid stopped their discussion and also stared. Tony’s mouth fell open, and Cory strummed a wrong cord. Chelsea looked at all the faces with a frown, and then her eyes came back to him. Their eyes locked a moment, and he knew he was a goner.
“Get my guitar,” he said.
He would have gotten it himself but did not think he could look confident walking in front of her. He took a couple of minutes to compose himself, and when she placed the instrument in his hand, he was ready.
“How about that new song … she’s fire?” Cory asked.
“No … I’m not releasing that,” he said in a low tone. All fell silent, so he added. “It’s not finished.”
“Sounds finished to me,” Cory remarked. Colt gave him a cutting stare. “Okay, let’s do something else.”
Colt closed his eyes and started humming, and then he played a chord. He’d written a song a long time ago about a girl with wild hair and a honey smile. As he sang the notes, he saw her running through a field with the wind in her hair. Tony got out his keyboard, and Mike snapped his fingers while they all did back up.
USED by Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Box Set Page 12