Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1)

by Heather Ashley

  I swear this right here is what dreams are made of—the open road in front of me and my girl at my back. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore that shit. I can guarantee whatever's making it go off will ruin Gigi's day, so it can wait.

  The air is heating up the longer we ride and the closer to the city we get, but we're not going into the madhouse today. No, we're going to the lake for something I'm betting Gigi has never even considered doing in her life, and a small smile crosses my lips when I think about what her reaction might be.

  The parking lot is mostly empty when we pull in, and I climb off the bike, helping her off and watching her face closely as she looks around. Her eyes are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, so I can't read the look in them, but if I had to bet, I'd guess she was confused.

  "What is this place?" she asks, and I'm fucking stoked I'm starting to be able to read her so well.

  I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist while I look out over the lake's surface at the floating obstacle course there. "It's called Aqua Park. It's an inflatable obstacle course." She stiffens in my arms, and I spin her around so I'm looking down at her. "You can swim, right?"

  She nods hesitantly. "Yes, but not well, and I haven't done it in years. Plus, I don't have a swimsuit. Living with the Reign of Chaos in the desert doesn't exactly give me a whole lot of time to get into the water." She rolls her eyes, and I chuckle at her sass.

  "We'll grab suits in the gift shop and a lifejacket for you, too. You're not drowning on my watch, little demon."

  When we get inside the air-conditioned shop, I point Gigi in the direction of the swimsuits and buy our tickets before snagging some trunks of my own. The guy behind the counter assures me life jackets are a must, so I take his word for it and go into the bathroom to change while I wait for Gigi to pick something out.

  She sidles up to me, hiding whatever it is behind her back, so I know I'm going to probably love it and also hate it at the same time. My eyes cut to the young guy working behind the counter before I swing them back in her direction.

  "What do you think you're doing?" I ask her in a gruff voice, knowing she likes it when I'm a possessive asshole as long as I don't take it too far.

  "You'll see," she says, blinking up at me innocently like I don't know she's really a hellion underneath all the sweet.

  I breathe out as I watch her saunter into the dressing room, pulling the curtain closed while shooting me a wink over her shoulder that I know means nothing but trouble. It'll be a miracle if we get out of this place without me punching someone in the face, but the pain in my knuckles will be worth it when she soothes my hurt by riding my cock later.

  I look down and curse. These swim trunks do not hide a hard-on at all. Adjusting the best I can, I lean against the wall outside of the dressing room and glare at the guy behind the counter. By the time Gigi walks out from behind that curtain, I want his eyes looking anywhere but at my woman.

  When I hear the curtain slide open, I turn and freeze. My eyes rake over every exposed bit of Gigi's creamy skin on display in that poor excuse for a swimsuit. I don't think they could call it much more than a scrap of fabric if it had any less coverage, but I was right. I both love and hate it in equal measure, and if we were home in my backyard spending the day in my pool, I'd be fucking ecstatic to tear it off with my teeth or slide it to the side and sink inside her…

  She arches her eyebrow at me as her eyes glitter with amusement and that fucking challenge that she loves to use to rile me up. "Ready?" she chirps like she's daring me to say something about all the skin—skin that's meant only for my eyes—that she's got exposed.

  "Careful, little demon. You're playing with fire," I warn her, growling into her ear.

  All she does is shoot me a sexy little smile, shake her hips in a shimmy that shows off her perfect ass, and then laugh as she prances ahead of me, just out of reach when I try to pull her back into the dressing room.

  It's a short walk down to the water, and I almost collide with Gigi's back when she stops because I'm so focused on staring at her ass as she walks in front of me. She smirks knowingly when my hands wrap around her waist to stop us both from falling.

  There isn't anyone else out here at this time of the day, so we have the whole place to ourselves. Gigi steps up to the end of the platform where the lake is lazily lapping at the shoreline, and I step around her to jump in. There's sand underneath my feet, and the water's warm, so I hold out my hand for her to follow me in. She only hesitates for a second before her expression turns determined, and she steps into the water.

  "I've never done anything like this before," she says while we wade through the progressively deeper water to the entrance of the floating course. There are water cannons shooting streams all over the place to keep the course wet and slippery, and one hits me straight in the face.

  Gigi laughs as I swipe the water from my eyes, and I wrap my arm around her waist and pick her up. She squeals as I toss her into the water, and when she comes up sputtering, she can't even pretend to be mad at me. The smile on her face could light up the whole world, it's so bright, and she looks so much younger than I've ever seen her having the weight of her normal life gone.

  This right here is exactly what I wanted today to be for her.

  I held out my hand for her and pulled her up onto the floating raft unsteadily. "C'mon, little demon. Let's see what you've got."

  We spend the next two hours climbing, jumping, sliding, and fucking around on the water. I can't remember if I've ever had this much fun, and Gigi already admitted to me she hasn't. The smile hasn't left her face in hours, and if she wasn't starting to burn under the intense sun, I'd keep her out here all day.

  As it is, we're both tired and hungry, and if I had to guess, I'd say Savage is just short of homicidal rage at my ignoring him by now. As much as neither of us wants to go back, we have to, so I reluctantly help her back onto the shore and wrap her in a towel. "Can we do this again?"

  The way she asks it almost breaks my damn heart because her voice cracks in the middle and is so soft like she's afraid to get her hopes up.

  I grip the sides of her face with my hands, tangling my fingers in her hair so I can force her to look right into my eyes, and I can stare into hers. "We can do anything and everything you want as soon as we get you out of the ROC's clutches. I promise, baby, the world is about to be yours for the taking."

  I mean every word, and when her eyes shimmer with tears and one escapes and starts to run down her cheek, I wipe it away and drop a kiss there instead. Sighing, I let her go even if it's the last thing I want to do. "We need to change and get back, but I'm feeding you first. Any requests?"

  She shakes her head, and we walk back inside to get dressed. The ride back is quiet, and even when we stop for food at a tiny burger stand on the side of the road, Gigi seems distracted. I wonder if she's worried about what might happen when we get back or if she's thinking about the future.

  Or maybe she's thinking about everything she's missed out on, being trapped in the clutches of the Reign of Chaos all these years.

  She isn't talking to me, and I don't want to push her. I want today to be a good memory for her, so I decide to let it go.

  Gigi holds me tighter on the ride back, and when we pull back onto ROC property, her nails are digging into my chest, and her arms are trembling. My heart is thumping hard in my chest, but more from adrenaline than fear. I don't mind unleashing the darkness inside of me on these assholes if it means Gigi gets to have the day we did and not have it tainted by their false ownership bullshit.

  When we finally park the bike, Vandal and Bomber are waiting for us, arms crossed against their bulging stomachs and matching thunderous expressions that promise retribution. I help Gigi off the bike before I spin around and my hand goes to the gun tucked into the waistband at the back of my jeans.

  "Where the fuck have you been?" Vandal snaps, taking a step forward.

  "Careful, brother," I warn, tugging m
y gun free and letting it rest at my side. His eyes drop to my weapon, and Bomber scoffs.

  "You think you can do whatever you want with our property without consequences? Today you're both going to learn what it means when you cross the ROC."

  They'd have to get through me to take her, but these old pricks were more competent than I gave them credit for. Gigi's shriek has me spinning around to try and pull her against my side, but all I grab is air as Brutal and Poison drag her away. She's fighting like hell, kicking and screaming, and I'm tempted as fuck to lift my gun and shoot all four of these pieces of shit.

  While I know I can, it's probably not smart to make that move, so I hold the gun in my hand so tightly it hurts and grit my teeth. "Where the fuck are you taking her?"

  "None of your goddamn business." Bomber smirks, and I take a step forward to punch him in the goddamn balls, but he shakes his head. "I wouldn't do that. Anything you do to us will only make her punishment worse."

  Gigi's eyes meet mine, and she's pleading with me in that look, and there's no fucking way I'm going to stand here and do nothing while these four and fuck knows who else do whatever they want with her.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  Hold on, I mouth to her because the last thing I want is for her to think I'm abandoning her or agreeing with this draconian bullshit. I start to storm into the clubhouse to find Savage. I'm putting an end to this shit right the fuck now, but I'm held up by Vandal's hand on my chest.

  I look down at it. "If you don't want to lose that hand, I'd suggest you take it the fuck off of me. Now." My voice is quiet and filled with menace, a threat or a promise—maybe both—that violence is coming.

  He's smart enough to know I mean it and gingerly pulls back, wincing enough to tell me I scare him at least a little bit. I can use this information, and I make a mental note to figure out the best way later when Gigi's not scared out of her damn mind.

  Without any more interruptions, I'm inside the clubhouse thirty seconds later, stalking down the halls toward Savage's office with the beast inside me fully unleashed. I slam the door open, and it bounces off the wall. I don't give one single fuck what he might be doing, and Grim doesn't even react from where he's sitting in front of the desk.

  He looks up at me calmly, and all it does is piss me off more. "How much is Gigi's life worth to you?" I snarl, leaning my hands down on the desk, my gun still clutched in one while I stare down the president of the Reign of Chaos Motorcycle Club.

  He flicks his eyes over to his enforcer and nods once, and then looks back at me while Grim gets up and shuts the door. The lock clicks into place, and Savage sits back. He doesn't tell me to sit down, and it's a damn good thing because I'd probably shoot him in the face if he did.

  "Why?" he asks me so fucking calm all I want to do is make him angry like me.

  "What the fuck do you mean 'why'? You're keeping her as a slave. Hasn't she worked off her mother's debt already? If she hasn't, tell me how much she owes, and I'll pay it right now."

  "I'm going to tell you something, but it doesn't leave this room," Savage starts. I stare at him, not giving him any reaction, but whatever he sees in my face must be enough to make him feel comfortable to go on. "Devil hid so much fucked up shit, we're still sorting through it, but both the best and worst thing he's ever done was Gigi." His stormy green eyes lock onto mine. "She's my sister."

  I recoil back like he hit me and fall into the seat beside Grim. "What? How?"

  Grim smirks. "Probably the normal way, you know cock goes into-"

  I glare at him, and he shuts up. Smart man.

  "Devil knocked up one of the sweet butts—Gigi's mom—, and when she came to him for drug money, she spouted some shit about how Gigi was his. He took one look at the little girl and knew it was true, so he made her mom a deal—leave Gigi with the club and never come back."

  I blew out a breath and ran a hand through my hair, trying to process this shit. I mean, what the fuck?

  "I know what he did is fucked up, but he had his reasons. I don't agree with them," he hurried to say when he saw the murderous look on my face, "but he had a lot of enemies. If anyone found out Gigi was his, she'd have become a weakness to exploit. I always thought it was weird as hell he had that rule that none of the guys could touch her. Finally knowing the truth, so much shit makes sense."

  "If you disagree, let her go. She's miserable here. She's a fucking prisoner, and she deserves so much more. Let me take her, and we'll go. You can have my patch." Fuck this mission. If he let me take Gigi right now, I would, and I'd never look back. I'd turn the shit I'd collected over to Ronin and let him give it to whatever friends he has left at the ATF.

  "Not yet." My fists clench at those two words, and I'm glaring at him like I'm picturing my knife slicing through his carotid like butter and giving him a second smile across his neck.

  "And why the fuck not? She's your goddamn sister! You're slowly killing her spirit, keeping her trapped here, and those motherfuckers dragged her off somewhere to do fuck knows what to her while we're here having this nice little chat." I'm breathing hard and fucking fuming.

  "Trust me when I say wherever they have Gigi, they're going to pay for putting their hands on her. But you have to prove yourself before I'll trust my sister to you. This club has a lot of enemies, thanks to Devil and his officers. I'm trying to clean that shit up, but if I let Gigi go, people will hunt her down. Show me you can keep her safe, and I'll let you take her." He'll let me. This motherfucker.

  "And how am I supposed to prove that I'm worthy of her?" My tone is mocking and full of fire because if anyone is capable of keeping her safe, it's me. This shithole doesn't even have a front fucking gate.

  Savage nods at Grim to take over the conversation, and I turn to him. "You remember when the guns went missing a couple of weeks back?" I nod. "We started digging, and shit isn't adding up—money's missing, people are going missing. Brutal, Vandal, Poison, and Bomber are up to something, and we need to know what."

  "What makes you think I have any more ability to figure it out than you do?" I hedge because Grim has a gleam in his eye that I don't like.

  He reaches down beside his chair and grabs my laptop, holding it out for me to take. The same laptop I hid in my mattress and use to send evidence to Sebastian. At least it's password protected.

  Like he's reading my mind, Grim smirks. "Saint had a little trouble with the password, but once he got in, we learned a lot of interesting shit, Connor."

  "Fuck," I say because really, what else can I do?

  "Indeed," Grim agrees, and Savage grins at me.

  "So, you've got the team and the equipment to figure out what the hell is going on with my club, and I've got Gigi. You help me; I help you. Deal?"

  I don't even care that I'm compromised or that either of the two men sitting in this room could kill me right now for lying to them and infiltrating their club. I only have one option at this point, and it's to help them save the club I came here to destroy. After a breath, decision made, I finally mutter, "deal."

  “Get your fucking hands off of me!” I scream for probably the tenth time since Brutal and Poison dragged me away from Connor and down into that shady as shit basement with the cages. It’s so creepy down here without Connor, and I’m seriously patting myself on the back right now for bringing him down here with me before ending up in this situation.

  If I hadn’t, he might never find me and that thought causes a shiver of unease to snake down my spine. I really don’t want to end up dead down here, destroyed by some overweight biker asshole who thinks the world owes him something. I’d like to think my life is worth more than that, but then again, I’m currently being shoved into a cage made for people in a sketchy basement torture room, so maybe not.

  “Sorry, but misbehaving cunts like you need to learn your place,” Poison says with what I’d almost call glee on his face, and then his evil grin turns smug. “Prez’s orders.”

  Clenching my teeth, I hold in the clap back I
want to let out. Instead, I sit back against the cold metal bars and tuck my knees up against my body, wrapping my arms around my knees. How could Savage of all people possibly be okay with this? I stare at the two men huddled together, whispering and glancing my way every few minutes while I wonder how the hell I read the guy so wrong.

  All I can do is try not to piss these two off any more than I already have and wait for Connor to come for me. Somewhere along the line, I started to trust him. I’m not sure when it happened, but it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that I believe him when he says he’ll get me out of here. He saw exactly who took me and in what direction. It’s only a matter of time before that darkness he hides behind a calm exterior comes out to tear these two to shreds for throwing me in a cage.

  Letting my imagination run away with me helps pass the time, but I have shit luck, so of course Brutal and Poison are both still down here, only now they’ve found all the old torture tools and look like Christmas has come early.

  Poison steps over to my cage—my fucking cage—and drags a rusty knife with a jagged edge along the bars. I wince with every new clang of metal on metal because somehow, I don’t think torturing me with just threats will satisfy these sadistic pieces of shit. “No one can hear you down here, you know,” he says like he’s being helpful, and all I’m thinking is that if the bars were wider, I could reach my arm out and punch him in the junk. Since I can’t, I settle for the best death glare I’ve got, which just makes him chuckle like I’m amusing him.

  I don’t answer him, but I’m a captive audience, and he’s taking this opportunity to fuck with my head. Brutal steps up beside his friend, hefting a hammer in his hands, and the smile he gives me is the stuff nightmares are made of. “We’ve waited a long time for you to fuck up enough to justify this, haven’t we?”

  Poison nods along with the man next to him and crouches down in front of me. If I hadn’t cut my fingernails yesterday to grip my pencil better, they’d be long enough to stab him in the eye. I told you, I have shit luck.