Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1)

by Heather Ashley

  Laughing as I stumble after him, he hurries us out to the garage where his bike is parked. "Can we even leave? Did you forget about your guest?" I ask, glancing around. He's got privacy walls on either side of his property and a gate out front, but who knows how much sound carries out here.

  "It's fine." Well, okay then. He holds out my helmet, and when I take it, he starts the bike. "We won't be gone that long, but this is important."

  I throw my leg over the seat and settle in behind him, wrapping my arms around his toned waist and hugging his hips with my thighs. My cheek rests on his back as we rocket out of the garage and through the gate out onto the street.

  Closing my eyes, I feel his muscles bunch and shift underneath my grip as he maneuvers us in and out of traffic, and I don't open them again until we stop. He cuts the engine, and I take off the helmet, smoothing out my crushed and wind-blown hair. Yeah, motorcycles aren't exactly the best for looking cute, but wrapping myself around my sexy as sin boyfriend is beyond worth it.

  I watch him climb off the bike in his dark denim and white t-shirt that clings to his muscles like it was custom-made just for him. He grins at me knowingly and grabs my hand. "Ready to meet MJ?"

  "MJ?" My eyebrows pull together as I try to remember if I should know who that is.

  He lifts his chin at the storefront we're heading into, and I look up at the sign. Midnight Ink. A cascade of flutters in my stomach makes me gasp, and I fight off the absurd girly squeal that wants to come out of my mouth. Connor brought me to his tattoo guy?

  "Right," I finally say, and he chuckles at me, holding the door open for me to follow him inside.

  There's an older man behind the counter who's definitely not old but older, greying at his temples and with eyes that crinkle when he smiles at us. "Back so soon?" he asks Connor. "I thought you'd be gone at least a few more weeks."

  "Just for the night, but this is Gigi." Connor pushes me forward a little, and I hold out my hand to MJ. He clasps it in his warm palm, and we shake.

  "MJ."

  "This is the girl I was telling you about," Connor says, and MJ's eyes glitter when he looks me over.

  "You want to learn to do what I do, huh?" MJ asks, and I nod so hard it feels like my head might detach from my neck. I really need to calm down, and Connor coughs to hide his laugh. I can't even be mad at him because he brought me here, and this is awesome.

  "I didn't bring my sketches with me because I didn't know we were coming here," I say apologetically, and MJ waves me off.

  "Bring them when you come back for good. In the meantime, how about a live demonstration?" He's got this mischievous look in his eyes, but I get nothing but friendly vibes from him, so I look to Connor to interpret.

  "He wants to give you your first tat."

  My mouth forms an O. I knew I wanted ink on my skin at some point. I'd thought of a million different designs I'd want for the first one, but now that I was standing here, I knew exactly what it would be. I step closer to MJ and away from Connor, who starts to follow, but I hold up my hand, and he stops, scowling at me for not including him.

  My heart lights up at his pouting, and I revel in his possessive nature.

  Turning my back on him, I lean close to MJ and fill him in on what I want and where I want it, drawing him a sketch so it'll be my vision exactly.

  While he sets up, I saunter over to Connor, throwing my arms around my neck and lifting onto my toes to kiss his pouty face away. My boyfriend does not appreciate being excluded. His arms slowly come around my waist and drop low, so his palms are both firmly on my ass.

  "Will you hold my hand?" I ask, starting to feel nervous for the first time since we stepped into the building.

  "Always."

  MJ gestures us over, and I sit, giving him my wrist and letting him go to work. I watch, fascinated while he etches the black bird onto the inside of my wrist, the same one Connor had me put on him a few days ago. When he realizes what I've chosen, he looks at me with so much wonder and longing and adoration I get lost in his eyes and forget about everything else.

  There's no pain or buzzing of the machine. There's only him and me and right now.

  "You're all done, Gigi," MJ says, breaking the spell.

  Blinking, I look down at the tiny bird that now links me forever to the man who's stolen my heart, and I realize this is exactly where I'm meant to be, right here with Connor by my side. I'm not sure I ever want to be anywhere else.

  The fresh ink on Gigi's wrist is like a magnet. I can't stop staring at it, and it makes me feel all kinds of possessive and satisfied when I look at the little black bird that's a perfect match to mine. It makes me feel like she's really in this with me. Like we're connected on a level I've never experienced with another person before.

  With one hand on the handlebar, I twined my fingers with Gigi's where her hand was spread across my stomach, her body plastered to mine as we rode back to my house. Even with the Death King showing up and trying to take Gigi, I wouldn't trade this day for anything.

  Thinking about the man tied up in my basement had the rage rising in me again. When I got Gigi's call earlier, my heart nearly fell out of my chest, and I sprang into action so fast I'm surprised I didn't hurt myself in my rush to get out to the beach where she was.

  When I saw her pinned under that Death King fucker, I nearly went homicidal, at least until I saw she was okay and he was knocked out. Gigi smiled up at me, and a swell of pride for my girl washed over me. I needed to get out of the house, or else I would've gone down to the basement and ended the threat against her.

  It worked out perfectly, bringing Gigi to meet MJ, and her face was so full of light and excitement it wasn't hard to see she liked it here. She fit here with me, and she's starting to realize it. Pulling back into my driveway and then the garage, I'm forced to let go of Gigi's hand, but I don't want to.

  It doesn't really matter what I want right now, though, because I have to harden myself back up and go deal with whatever's going on in my basement. Most of the time, being the boss is the only fucking way I'd ever have my life, but in times like these, I wish I could hand shit off to someone else and go forget about the world for a while.

  My eyes drag along her body as she climbs off the bike, stopping on the bandage on her wrist, almost like I need to reassure myself that it's there and that she really did it. Somehow that one act feels massively symbolic, like a step forward in our relationship. Then again, I might be overthinking shit because I want Gigi to be in this with me so badly.

  We don't speak as she follows me into the house, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. I can feel the hundreds of burning questions she wants to ask, but I don't have time to answer them right now, so I pull her toward me and drop a kiss to her temple. "I'm going downstairs, but when I get back, we can talk if you have questions."

  I'm hoping this is enough to make her comfortable waiting while we handle business. I look down at my white t-shirt and decide I need to run upstairs and change into black. It hides blood better.

  Jogging back down the stairs, Gigi's eyes wandered my chest before pinning me with her bright green gaze. There's a flare of heat there I wouldn't waste a second exploring if I didn't have someone who tried to kidnap her tied up in the basement.

  Fucking priorities.

  I give her my most wicked smile, promising to make this up to her in orgasms later before I turn and head down the stairs. It's soundproofed, so anything could be happening down there. Before I open the door at the bottom of the stairs, I close my eyes and inhale, letting the rage I've been shoving to the back of my mind out in full force. I'm going to need it for who I need to become behind this door.

  No one comes onto my property and hurts the woman I love. If they try, they're going to find out how badly they fucked up at the end of my knife, when it's too late for anything but retribution.

  When I open my eyes, the monster inside has been unleashed, and I push through the door feeling a calm, cold detachment sweep over me. The
door swings open, and I close it behind me, locking it in case Gigi gets curious. I never want her to see this side of me, not fully. It's disturbing as fuck to an outsider, which is why so few people know what I'm truly capable of.

  Under a fluorescent light at the back of the room, the Death King sits tied to a chair, his skin drenched in sweat and blood with one eye swollen shut already. Asher leans against the wall with one leg kicked up and his arms folded in such a casual way, you'd never think he was watching a man be tortured—or doing the torturing himself.

  There's a reason I recruited him for my team, and it's that glint in his eye when he notices me and lifts his chin. He's got a raging storm inside of him brought on by the circumstances of his upbringing that he has no other outlet for. He's a specialist of sorts, only instead of something mainstream, his focus is torture—extracting information where needed.

  Sometimes it's not information we need, but to send a message or teach a lesson. That's where Asher steps in, though I can see he's been teaching Indy the ropes.

  Me? I like to supervise, except in cases like this where shit gets personal. Then I have no choice but to step in and get my hands dirty.

  Not that I mind, but sometimes it's hard to rein the beast back into its cage once I let it out.

  "Please," the Death King begs, and I scoff, stepping up close. He's trembling, and I'm disgusted with him already, and I haven't even begun.

  "It's your lucky day," I say, circling him as Indy joins Asher at his spot against the wall. His hands are bloody, and he grabs a towel, wiping the mess off while I return my focus back to my prisoner. "You aren't going to die down here."

  The man's shoulders slump in relief, and he starts to cry. A cruel smile carves across my face as I look down at him, pulling my knife out of my pocket and out of its sheath. "Thank you," the man whispers.

  A chuckle works its way out of me, but it's mean and menacing. Indy smirks at me because he knows what's coming, and Asher's watching with a blank expression on his face. We've talked about it, and like me, he shuts his emotions off when he steps into these situations.

  "Why are you thanking me? I didn't say you weren't going to die, just that it wouldn't be down here. Did you guys hear me say there wouldn't be a fuck ton of pain between now and then?" I ask, looking over at Asher and Indy.

  "Nope," Indy says, popping the p obnoxiously, and Asher shakes his head.

  "That's what I thought." I've been circling Riff, the guy slumped over in the chair in front of me, like a predator who already has its prey in its clutches but is playing with it because he can. My knife is gripped in my hand, and my muscles tense with the effort to hold back from driving it into his skin. I need to keep him alive, and that means maintaining control over my emotions.

  An image of Gigi pinned underneath him flickers into my mind, but I shut that fucker down. If I let thoughts of Gigi in, I won't be able to hold back. He may be my prisoner, but I have a suspicion the reason he's here has everything to do with the Reign of Chaos. Devil hadn't kept Gigi locked down all those years for nothing. He knew if it got out who she was to him, she could be used as leverage.

  Now Savage's caution makes sense, and it's only fair that I bring him in on this. "Good news, Riff. We're going on a road trip, but I'm going to make it easier for you. Instead of focusing on how long the drive is, you can focus on this," I say, driving my knife into his thigh.

  I'm careful not to hit any arteries because I don't want him bleeding out, and the scream he lets out when the tip of my knife hits bone is a balm on the rage I've been feeling since this morning.

  "I think he needs a matching one on the other side," Asher drawls, finally joining in.

  "Hmm," I say, considering. Riff's wide, pleading eyes find mine, and I feel nothing. No guilt, no empathy, no compassion. He tried to take Gigi from me, and if he'd succeeded, there's little doubt in my mind I wouldn’t've seen her again except maybe in pieces.

  With that thought, I yank my knife out and stab it into his other leg. This time, he passes out from the pain, and I take a deep breath, relishing in the familiar tang of copper and bleach in the air. Now that it's quiet and I can hear myself think, I turn to Asher and Indy. "I need to call Savage and see what he wants me to do with this guy, but if I know him—and I'd like to think I have a good feel for the guy—he's going to want us to bring him back tonight for the club to deal with."

  "I'll fix him up enough to make the drive," Indy says, pushing off the wall to get started as I pull out my phone. I frown at my hand where blood flecks coat my skin, and I wipe it on my black shirt before I call the Reign of Chaos president.

  "Shadow," he says as a greeting. His voice is calm, maybe too calm. I haven't heard from him since I sent the text this morning of Riff's patch and a text that he tried to take Gigi. Maybe he hadn't gotten my message.

  "Benson," I say just as coolly back, knowing my use of his given name will probably piss him off, but I'm not about to let him think he holds any kind of authority over me. "I'm assuming you didn't see the message I sent you this morning."

  "I'm not sitting by the phone waiting for you to text, asshole. I have a club to run and shit to do, so no, I haven't had a chance to check my messages." Even though his words were harsh, he didn't sound pissed off, though I suspect that's about to change.

  "Check your messages. I'll wait."

  His mumbled threats and curses sound further away as he pulls his phone away from his face to—I'm assuming—check the text I sent.

  "What the fuck?" he roars, and then his voice is right back in my ear, loud and clear. "Why didn't you call me?"

  I roll my eyes at the audacity of this guy. "Be grateful I texted you and kept you in the loop. I could've just handled it myself."

  "Where's my sister?" he asks, the malice in his voice clear.

  "Do you have so little faith in me? I'd never let anything happen to Gigi." I don't tell him how close Riff got to succeeding in his mission to snatch her away, and I feel myself getting angry again. My jaw clenches, and my eyes cut over to where Indy's wrapping a bandage around the Death King's leg. My knife's still sticking out of the other one, and I feel the sudden urge to go pull it out and jam it in again.

  "What about the Death King?" Savage's tone goes deadly, and I know I'm signing the guy's death warrant offering him up like this, but he went after Gigi, and now it's out of my hands. I knew how this was going to end the minute I brought him down to my basement.

  "Unconscious in my basement after he couldn't keep up with the fun." I smirk at the blood running down the cement floor toward the drain I had installed for exactly this purpose. Not that I use it very often, but it comes in handy from time to time.

  The Reign of Chaos president lets out a chuckle. I think we're starting to understand each other, him and me. "You bringing him back with you tonight?" I like that he's not demanding I do it, so I agree. I was going to do it anyway, but it's nice to feel like he gets me. I don't do well when people try to tell me what to do, and he's come dangerously close to finding that out a couple of times already.

  "Yeah, we'll be back in a few hours."

  I hang up and leave my guys to get Riff ready for our trip back. As I walk up the stairs, I rip my t-shirt off, throwing it in the trash in the kitchen. My hands still have bits of blood on them, and I need to shower before I let Gigi touch me.

  I'm riding the high of adrenaline, not using much of it up on the Death King downstairs since I knew I couldn't take it too far. When I see Gigi with her legs curled underneath her, sitting on my couch and staring out the large glass windows that overlook the ocean, my dick hardens, and all I can think about is being inside her.

  Fucking Riff. I only have enough time to shower, and then we have to get on the road. I don't know how long the guy will last with the amount of blood loss he's suffered already, and Savage will be pissed if we show up and the guy's dead, so we don't get any answers.

  Fuck, who am I kidding? I'll be pissed, too.

  "Hey
, little demon," I say as I step up in front of her and sit down on the coffee table. She looks so at peace here that I hate to have to take her away, even if it is only temporary. I have every confidence the next time she steps foot in this house, it'll be for good. "I'm sorry to do this, but we have to go back. I'm gonna shower, and then we need to leave."

  She sighs, and I want so fucking bad to reach out and run my fingers through her hair or take her hand in mine and rub my thumb across her soft skin to comfort her, but I'm covered in another man's blood, and I don't think she'd like it. Her eyes flick down, assessing my skin, and the corner of her lips tilt up.

  Maybe I'm wrong about her not liking it, and somehow I get even harder. I adjust myself, not even trying to hide it, and she smirks at me knowingly. As if remembering our conversation, she wilts a little, and I hate that she looks unhappy. She's really come to life being here the last twenty-four hours. I don't want to make her go back any more than she wants to, but we made a deal, and if she wants to have any kind of relationship with her brother moving forward, we need to stick to it.

  "I wish I never had to go back. I love it here." She sounds wistful as she looks away from me and back out at the ocean.

  "Do you think when all this is done, you'd want to come back and live here? With me?" I hate the vulnerability that creeps into my voice and that my heart is pounding, but if she says no, I don't know what I'll do.

  Her head whips around, and her eyes are flicking between mine, searching for something. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

  I scoff. "Mind? You think it'd be a hardship to have you in my bed every night or waking up next to you every morning? To be the first one to see your new sketches or hear about how you see the world? To be there for so many of your first experiences? If you think I wouldn't want that, you haven't been paying attention."

  She blushes, and I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. "I don't want you to feel like you have to. You've felt like a prisoner almost your whole life, and fuck knows, I don't want you to feel like that with me, but make no mistake about it, Gigi, I want to be with you. I want you living here with me, and I want a future with you, but I'm not going to force you. If you don't see a future for us, I'll still help you get out. You don't have to be with me to be free."