Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1)

by Heather Ashley

  The problem is if I do, I don't know if I'll be able to drag it back inside me and lock it up when I'm done. It's best not to find out, if I don't have to, because I lost count of my kills the last time it happened. Ronin had to handcuff me to a post in the desert after a day on the battlefield when we served together. It took me more than a day to calm down enough for him to let me go, and I don't want a repeat of that scenario out here.

  It makes me wonder if I should call Ronin in to work with Julian and Sebastian on this case since he's the only one who's ever seen my monster fully unleashed and figured out how to shove it back in the box, but it's not time to worry about that yet. Something to make a note of and reassess when the situation gets worse.

  The parking lot I pull into is crowded, and I pull my bike in beside Grim's in the only open spot left in the lot. Looking over the three other bikes parked in the row, it's obvious I'm the last one here. They're lucky I showed up at all.

  I find them sitting in a booth near the back. I have to pass by harried-looking waitresses and early morning risers who are generally too cheerful for me at any time, but right now, I want to pull a hood over my head and sink into the shadows it offers so I don't have to make eye contact or pretend to smile back.

  Saint slides further in toward Grim, who moves closer to Savage, so I have room to sit. There's already a steaming mug of coffee waiting for me like they had no doubt I'd show, and I feel like I should be pissed off, but I'm too fucking worn down to muster up the emotion. Instead, I snag a packet of sugar and dump it into the cup, hoping it'll give me an added boost of energy.

  Savage frowns. "You look like hell."

  "That's what happens when you're up most of the night," I say, smirking at him since I know he hates that I'm fucking his sister. In my opinion, he should feel grateful it's me and not one of the guys in his club. I'd like to think I'm a much better option than any of them and will actually care to treat Gigi the way she deserves.

  He'll come around, even if he is shooting me a death glare from across the table.

  Someday he might be family, and if that happens, any hopes I have of permanently freeing myself and Gigi from the Reign of Chaos will go up in smoke. It doesn't matter; she's more than worth it, especially if Savage can pull off what he hopes to with everything we're working on now.

  "Dude, not cool," Saint says, leaning toward me like he's telling me a secret, and my smirk gets bigger. What can I say? I'm riding the high of Gigi officially being mine and the hours of celebrating we did after, and it makes me into a bit more of an asshole than usual.

  "For fuck's sake. Focus," Grim growls at all of us, and the dude is scary as hell. I can admit there's something unsettling about him that makes me not want to fuck with him. I think the rest of the guys at the table feel the same because his words have us all sitting up straighter and the smirk slipping off my face.

  Savage clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee before he pushes the mug away and leans forward, resting on his elbows. I find myself leaning in, too, suddenly hyper-aware of all the people around us. "Ruin finished up reviewing our ledgers, and we're short."

  "How short?" I ask, not really sure what he expects from me.

  "Really fucking short," Grim answers, turning his intense black-eyed stare in my direction.

  I blow out a breath and sit back against the padded seat as Savage continues. "We have enough in reserve to cover for it for now, but not for long. If it gets out that we're out of money, the members will lose faith in me and vote to have me removed as president."

  Now I'm following along with his train of thought. "And if you're out, they'll have to put someone else in your place. Someone like Vandal or Brutal."

  Saint taps his finger to the tip of his nose. "Got it in one." He brushes some of his dark hair out of his eyes before scowling at me like I'm a moron and should've known all along what was going on, but it's not like I'm an expert in bullshit and motorcycle club politics.

  I turn away from him and lock eyes with Savage. "This is their plan or at least part of it. Undermine you and pocket the money, but also steal the presidency and make the club into what they thought it should've been all along." I'm only guessing, but the pieces fit together too well to be wrong.

  Grim sits back and runs a knife he's pulled from somewhere underneath his fingernails. This seems like a habit for him since no one else reacts, so I'm choosing to ignore his creepy as fuck quirk. "We need you to speed up your timeline," he says in a voice that's ice-cold, but then again, that's pretty standard for the guy, so I don't take it personally.

  "I can try, but I can't make the old bastards fuck up any faster," I say, scowling at this group of inked-up bikers who think they can intimidate me. I'm doing them a favor, and if they've forgotten that, maybe I need to remind them. "If you think you can do better, I'll take Gigi and go."

  Grim flicks his knife around like it's supposed to intimidate me, but I reach behind me and pull the gun out of my waistband and rest it on the table aimed in his direction, raising an eyebrow as if to say what now, motherfucker? I couldn't give less of a fuck about throwing down with these guys if they're going to act like I owe them something. I don't.

  "You're not taking my sister anywhere," Savage growls, and I smirk at him.

  "I'm not? You don't think I have a doctor on my team who can cut out that little tracker you have in her thirty seconds after we leave club property?" He glares at me because he knows I have him by the balls. I'm done letting these shitheads think they're in control here. They're not.

  "The only reason she's still here, the only reason I'm still here right now, is because now she knows you're her brother, and I'm trying to do shit the right way. That, and it's gotten personal. I can't just leave those pieces of shit to keep abusing women the way they do. They put hands on Gigi, and I know the other day wasn't the first time. I can't let that go." I curl my fingers around my gun to let them know I'm serious, and to their credit, not one of them flinches.

  "So, here's what's going to happen. You know my guys are in town and assisting, and we've found something you might find of interest, but I want something from you before I share." It's a spur-of-the-moment decision. I came here planning to tell him everything about the house I watched Bomber go into the other day, but now he's pissed me off, and I'm not interested in turning over my hard-earned intel so easily anymore.

  "Of course you do," Savage mutters, and I perk up, a deadly smile cutting across my face.

  "Keep pissing me off, and I've got no problems blowing the whole goddamn club up and riding away with Gigi on the back of my bike, and all of you will be nothing but another fucked up memory to bury."

  "No need to get homicidal, Jamison," Saint says with a lift to the corner of his lips like he's finding my threat of murder amusing. The four of them—and I include Ruin in that even though he's not here—haven't exactly let me into their little club, so I'm still not sure what to make of them. I don't know if their motivations for destroying the older members are because they want to do the right thing or because they don't like their authority undermined.

  Maybe it's both, but as long as they keep their psychopathic tendencies in check, I don't really care what they do. Well, they also need to keep their bullshit far away from Gigi once we leave, but I'll deal with that if it comes up later.

  I look straight at Savage, not willing to back down from our stare down when he narrows his eyes at me. Our eyes stay locked as I slide my gun off the table and back into the waistband at the back of my jeans. "I want to take Gigi to LA for one night. I need to run back to my office and grab some equipment."

  "Can't you have one of your team do it for you?" he counters.

  "I could, but I don't want to. Your sister deserves a break. If you deny her that, you're even more fucked up than I thought you were. Think about it from her point of view. You've kept her locked up for almost her entire life when all she wants to do is fucking live. Last week she got locked in a fucking cage on your wa
tch by your men, and now you're going to sit here and tell me I can't take her to spend one night in my house? Where security's a fuck of a lot tighter than it is in your clubhouse?" I scoff, getting more pissed off by the second. I'm starting to feel like it's time to cut my losses and get the fuck out of here whether he lets Gigi go on his terms or not.

  He surprises the shit out of me by breaking eye contact first and rubbing his hands down his face. He looks like he hasn't been sleeping, and a glance at the other guys tells me none of them are. They all look stressed as fuck, and I can't really blame them. I don't like going back on my word, so I decide I'll stick around until the job is done unless anything else happens to Gigi, even if he doesn't let me take her home.

  "Fine, but only one night. Until we know what's going on, I just feel better having her at the clubhouse," Savage concedes, and Grim looks like he wants to say something, but then he clenches his jaw and decides to level me with an icy glare instead. I ignore him.

  Instead of saying anything, I pull my phone out and dial Sebastian, putting it on speaker so the three of them can hear the conversation. "I hope this is important; I was just about to break into-"

  "Sebastian," I snap, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I do not need to hear about the illegal shit he does that makes him so good at his job, and the three of these guys need to hear it even less. I look up at Saint, and he's leaning in and looking at my phone like it's the second coming of Jesus or something, and I know he's dying to meet Sebastian. "You're on speaker. I need you to tell Savage and his guys what you told me this morning about the property outside Goodsprings."

  It sounds like he's moving shit around on his end of the line, but then he starts going over all the details. "The house, if you can call it that, is registered to a Jean Bradshaw. I did some digging, and she's got a great or great-great something nephew named Renley. Jean's been dead for so long, there's no question the house is well and truly abandoned. Renley's the only living relative of hers, so if anyone's using it, it'll be him. Too bad for him the county foreclosed on it a few years back because no one's bothered to pay the taxes, but considering it's the only house out there for miles, it's not exactly a top priority of theirs to sell. Not only that but have you seen that place? They'd be better off burning it down."

  "Is that it?" I ask him, making sure he hasn't discovered anything new since I talked to him last.

  "Should there be more?" he counters, the snark in his tone coming through loud and clear. He's pissed I interrupted whatever he was up to and am doubting his abilities simultaneously, but he's loyal and knows this job is priority number one, so he's dealing with it.

  "No. I'm heading home tonight to grab some supplies and to swing by the office, but I'll be back tomorrow. If you need me to bring anything back, text me," I say and then hang up.

  "Renley fucking Bradshaw," Saint mutters as a shadow crosses his blue eyes and makes them look navy.

  "Should I know who that is?" I ask, noting that the three of them look exponentially more pissed off than they did before the call.

  "Remember a couple of weeks ago when there was an attack on the clubhouse?" I nod because how could I forget waking up and feeling the panic that I didn't know where Gigi was and for a second thinking something happened to her. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up as unease washes over me. "It was our rivals, the fucking Death Kings, that did it. Renley Bradshaw, or Hacksaw, is their enforcer."

  I curl my lip up in disgust at the name. These guys seriously lack creativity. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the dude probably lives up to the hype of his Game of Thrones counterpart with a name like Hacksaw.

  "Why the fuck would Bomber be driving out to property linked to the Death Kings?" Grim wonders in that voice of his that sounds like crushed ice, all menacing and cold.

  "I'm betting the answer to that will tell you everything you need to know about what your brothers are up to," I say, finishing off the last of my coffee. None of us ate anything, but I'm not all that hungry, at least not for food.

  My mind flashes to Gigi naked and in my bed tonight—and not that shitty club mattress with the taint of Crystal all over it. No, my actual bed where I can hear the ocean if I open the window, and no one will step foot unless I disarm my security. Suddenly I can't wait to get back to the clubhouse and scoop Gigi up and ride home.

  I already know it's going to be nearly impossible to drag my ass back here tomorrow, but I gave my word, and I'll finish this job. I'll worry about tomorrow then, and today I'll enjoy the break. Sliding out of the booth, I pull a twenty out of my pocket and toss it onto the table. Savage looks like he wants to say something but smartly closes his mouth.

  "Gigi and I will be back tomorrow; you have my word. I don't want to hear from you or about the ROC until then. If you have an issue, call Julian," I say, tossing a card at Saint with Julian's company cell on it. I'll give him a heads up that he's taking point for the night on this case. I need a fucking break, and he can more than handle whatever might come his way. He's my second for a reason, and I trust him more than anyone.

  My boots hit the pavement of the sidewalk out front, and I breathe in, enjoying the sense of freedom I suddenly feel. It's like a massive boulder of weight that I've been carrying around on my shoulders has lifted off, that I didn't even realize was there. I can't imagine how Gigi's going to feel when I tell her where we're going for the night. The thought of her reaction has me hurrying to my bike and rushing back to the clubhouse.

  When I get there, Bomber's waiting out front, and it's like deja vu of my first day as a member of the Reign of Chaos when Sin brought me in and vouched for me. This time, I don't give two shits about making a good impression or fitting in. I ignore the hard stare he's giving me and the feeling of eyes burning into the back of my cut as I hurry to my room first to grab a bag and then to Gigi's room.

  Bursting through the door, I make her jump, and her hand flies to her chest as she squeaks out a surprised noise. I laugh at how cute she is with her hair still wet from the shower and her wide green eyes. She's in shorts and a tank top and showing all sorts of skin that I want to get better acquainted with. "Shit, Connor. You scared me!" she scolds, and I give her the lopsided grin I know she loves, trying my best to look chastised.

  "Sorry, but I need you to throw a change of clothes in here," I tell her, tossing her the backpack I snagged from my room.

  She narrows her eyes. "What? Why?"

  "I have to go home tonight to pick up some surveillance equipment from the office, and I told your brother you're coming with me."

  Her eyes widen, and she jumps off the edge of the bed. "He's letting me go?"

  "Just for tonight, but yeah, you're staying the night at my house. That is if you want to." I probably should've asked her first, but if she didn't want to go for whatever reason, I'd just send Julian. I wasn't about to leave her unprotected overnight.

  "Of course I want to!" she squeals and flings herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. My hands automatically find the backs of her thighs, and the tips of my fingers dimple her skin as I hold her close. She smells like the coffee she'd been sipping and vanilla, and I inhale, filling my lungs with Gigi.

  I chuckle and set her down, fully aware that if I pay attention to what my dick wants right now, we'll never leave this room. "Hurry and pack so we can get the hell out of there then," I say, swatting her on the ass when she turns to do just that.

  "I can't believe you convinced Benson to let me leave with you," she murmurs, shoving clothes into the bag. "And to LA? I've always wanted to see the ocean. Wait, can we see the ocean while we're there?" The words are pouring out of her, and her excitement is palpable. She's practically vibrating as she flits around the room, and it's cute as hell how happy she is just to come home with me, something that's so mundane to me and so new for her.

  "My house is on the water, so you'll be able to see the ocean from almost every room," I tell her, and she turn
s and looks at me like she's seeing me for the first time. It makes me chuckle again. Happiness is radiating off of her, and it's filling up the space between us so that even I can feel it. It's contagious.

  She's still shoving shit in the bag, and it's almost bursting. "How much shit do you need for one night, little demon? Just a change of clothes and maybe your bathing suit and if you forget anything, we can go to the store. I'd like to leave at some point today."

  "Sorry, sorry. I've just never gone away overnight, so I'm afraid I'll forget something." She takes a few things out of the bag and tosses them aside before zipping it up. Now that she's taken out the sweater she had packed in there, it's a much more manageable size. I raise my eyebrow at her. It's mid-summer and at least a hundred degrees outside.

  Her cheeks are stained with pink as she looks up at me, but her eyes are daring me to say shit, so I don't. I keep my teasing to myself, and instead, we lock up and hurry down to my bike. I don't know who's more excited to get the hell out of here, her or me.

  I start up the engine and climb on, holding out a helmet for her and then helping her onto the back of my bike. She wraps herself around me, and when she does, something inside me settles. This feeling right here is in the top three best feelings ever, topped only by being inside her and wrapping up a job with the best outcome.

  "Hold on tight, baby, it's gonna be a long ride," I warn her, and then I twist the throttle, and we fly toward home.

  The level of amazement I've felt over the past eighteen hours is unlike anything else I've experienced up to this point in my life. I curl my toes into the cool sand, closing my eyes and just letting myself feel. The constant wind whips my hair around my face, making it into a tangled mess, but I've never cared about anything less in my entire life. The air smells briny in that unique way people talk about when they describe the ocean, and up until this moment, I never knew what they were talking about.