She didn’t hear Bodhi come home so absorbed in the book. He stood, leaning at the doorway, watching her, a small smile playing around his mouth. God, she was adorable, all that dark hair shoved into a messy ponytail, her blue jeans flared over her Chuck Taylors, her pink t-shirt snug against her breasts and flat belly. Again, he reminded himself that she was his employee…
“Hey, there.”
Sailor looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Bookshelves are like catnip to me.”
“Hey, it’s all at your disposal, buddy, all of it. Even the guesthouse itself. You ever need to stay late; you can use this as your own. Hell, you could even move in, rent-free of course, if you want.”
Sailor closed the book and replaced it back on the shelf. “There you go again, trying to give me stuff.” But she smiled as she said it. Bodhi shrugged.
“I understand, but it’s just stuff, you know? I like to share.”
Sailor nodded, smiling. “Shall we get to work?”
It was maddening, Bodhi thought, to have her so close beside him, breathing in her clean scent of fresh linen and cotton, her hair escaping from the ponytail. But he wasn’t a kid anymore, wasn’t that man who would risk everything for a fuck. He liked Sailor as a person, regardless of his attraction to her, and throughout that day, he came to understand just how intelligent and efficient she was. He marveled at her ability to brainstorm ideas with him when, by her own admission, she knew nothing about the music business. Bodhi had setup a conference call with Emily Moore in San Francisco, and Sailor had handled it with confidence and grace, not afraid to ask questions when she needed. Emily, a sweet-natured woman, offered to represent Bodhi officially and Sailor setup a day to fly up and sign contracts the following week.
“Come on a day when some of the honchos from Quartet are here, Bodhi. You can meet Dash and Roman, maybe Tomas too if he can drag himself away from Bay. You know the 9th and Pine are on tour and that Bay is seven months pregnant, right? Lunatic. So, Tom may be with her, but Roman and Dash will be here.”
“Sounds good. I’ll let you and Sailor discuss dates if that’s okay.”
“Wonderful. Speak soon, Sailor.”
When Emily had ended the call, Sailor grinned at Bodhi. “Just between you and me, I will totally get star struck if I meet the 9th and Pine.”
“And yet, not star struck at all with me,” Bodhi sighed, with mock-self-pity.
“I’m just hiding it well,” Sailor shot back and Bodhi laughed. He stood up and stretched.
“We got a lot done today, Sailor, I’m feeling reenergized. It’ll be good to get back to work, but not until I have this situation with Tim sorted out. I won’t neglect him for my work.”
Sailor smiled at him. “See? I know you don’t think you’re a good dad, but you are.”
Bodhi was quiet then, and Sailor bit her lip. “Sorry, was that inappropriate?”
Bodhi shook his head. “No, it was a sweet thing to say, but I’m sorry, I don’t believe it. I can’t reach him, Sailor. When you’re not here, or when Solly or Claudio isn't around, he ignores me.”
He sat down next to her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“Did you know what you were missing? Growing up without parents?”
Sailor sighed. “It wasn’t like that really, we were all…taken care of. If that’s what you call caring for someone,” she added, almost to herself and Bodhi was intrigued.
“Sailor…just what was this commune like? Are we talking Maharishi Yogi or Jim Jones?”
Sailor chuckled uncomfortably. “Somewhere between the two…look, I really don’t want to talk about that. I’m sorry.”
Bodhi nudged her with his shoulder. “It’s cool. Look, we need to get your passport arranged by Friday, so let’s get it done.”
Bartholomew Foy stalked back to his office and slammed the door. Six months. Six months since his Sailor had run away and nothing. He’d spent millions trying to look for her, all across the country, but wherever she had hidden herself, she’d done an excellent job. As soon as Monica had returned from the store that day, fuming, and obviously scared of what Bart would do to her for losing Sailor, Bart had never known rage like that. For years, he had bided his time, waiting for Sailor to reach womanhood. He’d been tempted to take her before she reached twenty-five, dreaming endlessly of her caramel colored skin, her dark eyes. He remembered her mother, Devi, a single mother Indian immigrant, who he’d found on the streets of San Francisco and had fallen for. Devi, although grateful to him, had resisted his charms at first, then as he promised her that she would be taken care of, she had come to him, and to his bed.
He’d murdered her just after Sailor was born. She’d been seeing another man, outside of the Children of Love. It was his first kill, but not the last, and now his bloodlust entirely for Sailor. This time, though, unlike with Tilly, he would do the deed himself, to punish her himself, to make her beg for her life before he took it. Ungrateful little whore.
A knock at his study door interrupted his dark reverie. “What?”
Salem, his slinky-hipped bodyguard, slipped into the room. “Something just pinged in California. One of our moles. She says she might, and I emphasize might, have spotted someone who resembles Sailor at a passport office in Los Angeles. The woman couldn’t be sure, but she alerted our Californian branch, and they’re following up.”
Bart tapped his pen on his desk impatiently. “That’s it? That’s all they got?”
Salem, the one person on his staff who wasn’t afraid of Bart, sat down in the chair opposite him. “It’s more than we’ve had since Sailor disappeared, Bart. And we have a contact at the passport office who is getting back to me later with anything he can find out.”
“Good.” Bart put his pen down and nodded at his bodyguard. “Good. Salem, when I get my hands on her…”
Salem beamed, showing a row of very even, very white teeth. “I can only imagine, Bart.”
Bart’s eyes were dark, dangerous. “The only thing I’ll regret will be that I’ll only get to kill Sailor once.”
Tim was chatting away happily to Sailor as they sat on Bodhi’s private plane on their way to the Caribbean late Friday night. After her first week as Bodhi’s assistant, Sailor was exhausted, but exhilarated. There was so much to do, to think about, but she loved that Bodhi instinctively trusted her to get the job done without interfering. Next week would be even more exciting when they flew up to San Francisco to meet Emily and the Quartet people.
Sailor and Bodhi had discussed his move to the small, but more eclectic and inclusive label. “Look who they have on their roster,” Sailor enthused, “The 9th & Pine for one, but look at these others. They’ve phased out every reality star and TV station brat and the quality of their music shines through. You deserve this label, Bodhi, and they deserve you.”
Bodhi grinned at her enthusiasm. “You cheering for them now? Sure it’s not to get an introduction to the band?”
“Well, that too,” she quipped back, and they’d both laughed. “I have such a girl crush on Bay Tambe.”
“You’re only human. But I think Tom Meir and their gazillion kids might object.”
“How many now? I know she’s pregnant again.”
“Three, including the belly-bound one.”
Sailor studied him. “So, the ‘gazillion’ was a bit of an exaggeration, then?”
He grinned. “A little.”
There was a short pause. “Between us, did you want kids? I mean, you kind of got blindsided with Tim, didn’t you?”
Bodhi sighed. “Now that isn’t an exaggeration. The truth is, no. It was never in me to have kids. But, Sailor, the second I knew Tim was mine, and look at us, I didn’t even need a DNA test to prove paternity, something shifted in me and I knew I would do anything for him.”
Sailor felt tears spring into her eyes and she looked away.
“Sailor King, are you crying?”
She shook her head, but laughed as the t
ears escaped anyway. “It’s just the love in your voice just then. Tim is a lucky kid, no matter how he’s hurting now.”
Bodhi half-smiled, but his eyes were troubled. “He’s hurting?”
“He got left with a man he doesn’t know, shoved into a life that most kids only dream about. His mom calls him, what, twice a week? I know she’s going through some stuff but…” Sailor stopped herself, hearing the anger rising in her voice. This isn’t about you, Sailor.
“Sorry,” she said to him, guiltily. “Not my business.”
Bodhi rubbed her back. “You’re a part of this family, now, Sailor. You say what you feel whenever you feel like saying it.”
Sailor took a deep breath in and shot him a grateful look. “I am sorry, though. But, Bodhi, I think Tim needs time to be resentful if he wants too…he’ll come around in his own time.”
Tim was yawning now, and even though he was a whole ten years old and a big boy, he crawled onto Sailor’s lap, snuggled into her, and fell asleep. Sailor, who was barely bigger than Tim herself, locked her arms around the boy, shooting a glance over to Bodhi, hoping his feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Bodhi smiled at her, his eyes soft, and she saw no reproach in his look. Instead, their gazes locked for a long moment, before Tim murmured, fidgeting in his sleep, and broke the spell. Bodhi grinned, then got up to go to the bathroom. Sailor kissed the top of Tim’s dark head and fantasized that, yes, this was her family now.
It was the early hours of the morning before they reached the villa on the island and Bodhi carried his sleeping son to a bedroom off the main living area. Sailor went over to the huge glass sliding door on the opposite wall and slid it open. It led down to a small beach and Sailor could hear the ocean gracing the shoreline.
“Beautiful.” She sighed, happily.
“I agree,” she heard Bodhi and turned around, blushing when she realized he was looking at her, and not the ocean. He came to stand beside her, putting his hand on her back. “Are you tired?”
She nodded. Bodhi stroked her hair back from her face. “The staff has made up all the beds, and there’s air conditioning, thank god. Do you want a drink before bed?”
Sailor smiled. “Okay.”
Bodhi grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses then nodded out of the door. “Let’s sit by the ocean; we can hear if Tim starts yelling.”
The moon was full, so they had plenty of light as they sat side-by-side, drinking their scotch. Sailor made a face at first, but Bodhi just laughed. “Keep sipping, it’ll be your friend soon enough.”
Sure Sure-enough, she began to enjoy the warm burn of the liquid in her throat. She chuckled a little.
“What?” Bodhi was studying her, a smile on his face.
Sailor shook her head. “If you only knew how much my life has changed in just one week, Bodhi. Hell, in six months.”
“Then tell me,” he said gently. Sailor chewed on her lip for a while before answering.
“You were nearer the mark with Jim Jones,” she began, not able to look at Bodhi. “The commune, hell, no, it’s a cult, I have to start calling it that. The leader is a man called Bartholomew Foy. Yeah,” she said, grinning at Bodhi’s face, “That’s his real name as far as I know. But then again, I don’t know if I believe anything about the man except one thing.”
“What’s that?”
Sailor felt sadness swim through her as she recalled the photos of her beloved Tilly being so brutally murdered. “He’s a monster…” She whispered, her voice breaking. “and he chose me to be his next, bride. When I reached my womanhood.”
“Your womanhood?”
She gave him a strange smile. “In the cult, women aren’t permitted to have sexual relations until their twenty-fifth birthday. That’s what it means. And when I reached mine, Bart was determined that I would be his. I disagreed and that’s why I left.”
A clearly horrified Bodhi put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of him again, Sailor. I promise you that.”
She smiled gratefully up at him, and again, their gazes locked. This time she didn’t look away. Bodhi moved closer, but stopped himself. “I think we need to get some sleep,” he said lightly, and Sailor was at once both disappointed and relieved. He pulled her to her feet and held her hand as they walked back into the villa.
“I meant what I said,” Bodhi told her as he showed her where her room was. “You are part of this family now, Sailor. And whatever you want goes, okay? You need to know what freedom really is and I will do anything in my power to protect you as long as you need me to.”
“Thank you, Bodhi.”
He smiled down at her and she so desperately wanting to kiss his mouth, it became a physical pain inside her. “Goodnight, Sailor.”
“Goodnight.”
Sailor shut the door, and Bodhi went to his own room, his emotions in turmoil. Sailor was a virgin? At twenty-five? And god, what the hell kind of fucked up upbringing had she had?
Bodhi took a cold shower and then slid, naked into bed. He’d nearly broken all of his rules too and kissed her out there on the beach. He had to get her out of his head.
But how? He didn’t want to go back to the screwing around ways of his youth. And nor did he want to keep Sailor at arms-length. She was as important to him now as his own…shit, man, what’s wrong with you? You’ve known her a week.
He sat up and tugged his laptop towards him, waiting for the browser to load, then typing in ‘Bartholomew Foy.' So many results, but Bodhi first clicked on the man’s photograph. A man in his early fifties, smart, but with a sly look on his dully handsome face. He flicked onto the man’s website.
The Children of Love welcomes you in their loving embrace…
“God,” he snorted, but then as he scrolled down, his blood ran cold. A photograph of a much younger Sailor, her eyes haunted, much thinner than she was now was on the front page. Underneath, an open letter to her begging her to return to their fold.
Bodhi read through it with growing horror.
My dearest, precious Sailor,
Now that you have been gone from us for all these long months, I cannot bear the sadness that has come over all of us. You have left a chasm in our souls that cannot be replaced by anyone.
Please, my darling girl, return to the people who loved you, raised you, nurtured you. Return to me, loveliest Sailor, for I will be the husband of your dreams, just as I promised you. Just as I was to your friend and mentor, Tilly.
If anyone sees my darling girl, please call us collect on 555-658-845 or email me at [email protected], or speak to one of our advisors at anyone of our drop-in centers around the United States.
Please help us find our beloved girl. #FindSailor.
Bodhi groaned softly. Jesus, this man was a psychopath. Bodhi had seen way too many people like this in his line of work. Egotistical, control freaks who used passive aggressive tricks like this to control people. Bodhi had no doubt that when that didn’t work, Bartholomew Foy would turn to just plain old aggression. He had to find out more about this.
One thing Bodhi knew for certain. No way would Bartie Foy ever, ever lay another hand on Sailor again.
Sailor choked in exasperation as Tim splashed sea water all over her as they played in the sandbars. Bodhi stretched out on a sun recliner, watched them with amusement, trying not to be too distracted by Sailor’s curves in her yellow two-piece, which looked striking against her golden skin.
“Hey, old man,” she yelled at him, and he grinned. “Come play with us.”
He waved his hand. “I don’t want to disturb your game.” And besides, if I get too close to you in that bikini, I won’t be responsible for my actions…
Sailor gave a face then, grinning wickedly, whispered something in Tim’s ear. The boy started to laugh, then covered his face to hide his giggles. They were obviously up to something.
Sailor strode out of the water and sauntered casually up the beach. Bodhi made no apology for admiring
her body, and she caught the gleam in his eye.
“And you can stop that right now,” she said tartly, then grinned. “Come on, rock god, come show the Great Whites what a real man looks like.”
She took his hands and pulled him into a sitting position, but he refused to be pulled to his feet, instead, laughing as Sailor, all of five-two, tried to pull his six-five up. She must weigh a quarter of what I do, he thought, fondly, then yelped as something very slimy and very cold was slipped down the back of his swim trunks. Sailor let go immediately as he got to his feet, ramming his hand down to his butt and pulling out a handful of seaweed from his shorts. Behind him, a giggle and he turned to see Tim, backing off, but grinning at him. Sailor skittered over to Tim, both of them laughing at Bodhi, and took his hand.
Bodhi looked between them and the handful of seaweed and stifled a laugh. Instead, he arranged his face into a warrior snarl and roared as he took off in hot pursuit of his tormentors. Tim and Sailor shrieked with laughter as he chased them back into the sea. Bodhi grabbed Tim and threw him up onto his shoulders as the child laughed. Bodhi grinned at him.
“Shall we get Sailor? Shall we?” He advanced on Sailor who was giggling uncontrollably and backing off, as they drew near. Tim gave a banshee scream, imitating his dad and they both rushed her, tipping her over into the sea. She emerged, gasping for air and laughing.
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 4