#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8)

by Cambria Hebert

  “Today!” I burst out.

  Ivy nodded miserably. “If only I’d checked my emails a few days ago, I’d have known about this sooner.”

  “Where is he?” Romeo replied, deadly calm. “Florida?”

  Ivy glanced down at the email, running through it again. “He’s here, in California. She probably flew him out here to stay at some posh place to butter him up.”

  “She?”

  Ivy’s face fell, and she nodded. “I’m afraid that’s not the only bad news I have. This gets worse.”

  “What is it?” I asked, steeling myself.

  “I found out who the person is behind the interview, who’s behind the bidding war and searching around for all the dirt.”

  “Who!” Romeo growled.

  Ivy bit her lower lip, a flash of disgust, even fear flashing in her eyes.

  Oh no. No. It can’t be.

  “It’s Missy.”

  Missy.

  The #BuzzBoss was back.

  Romeo

  Five.

  That’s how many phone calls I had to make to find out which swanky-ass hotel Jonathan Kane was staying in.

  It was good luck for me he was on the other side of Hollywood.

  But it was going to be a very, very bad day for him.

  I’d hated that guy from the first time Rimmel told me about her past. If he had lived in Maryland, I would have already hunted him down and beat his ass. I always thought maybe it was a good thing we were states apart.

  But now…

  Now the douchebag had a name. I also had an address.

  Most of all, I had renewed motivation.

  This wasn’t going to happen. This exclusive story he planned to sell to the highest bidder was dead. And I planned to bury it twenty feet under.

  Rimmel had been through enough in her lifetime. I didn’t know why bad shit kept happening, but I was done with it.

  I hadn’t been there back then to stop this motherfucker from hurting her, but I was here now. I was tired of doing everything by the book, too.

  Legal. Proper. Upstanding.

  Clearly, those things were ineffective when dealing with some people.

  Some people just needed punched in the goddamn head.

  This Jonathan Kane didn’t know it yet, but he was about to become example number three. The rest of the world hopefully wouldn’t see this example, but he’d feel it, and the ripples of it would spread out to the most unsavory people in the underground belly of celebrity secrets, and they would know.

  And Missy?

  Apparently she’d gotten off too easy the last time we dealt with her. We assumed because she kept Braeden from getting charged in Zach’s death that she was done with her bitchy college ways.

  Wrong.

  Maybe she should be example number four.

  Point was when we boarded a plane for Maryland and I took my wife home, all this shit was going to be over.

  It wasn’t going to hang over our heads. It wasn’t going to be something that threatened to drag Rim down or put that god-awful distance between us.

  We’d been through worse. It was time for some happy shit.

  It was time for some peace.

  If I had to force it, so be it.

  After all the bad news had been laid out, Rimmel excused herself to the bathroom to change out of her pajamas, and Ivy went to do the same (I really think she was so upset she didn’t realize she hadn’t been wearing pants).

  Us four guys were left sitting in the suite, looking at each other. Soon, as both girls were out of earshot, I announced, “I’m putting a stop to this today.”

  Five calls later, I had the name of the hotel, and Drew hacked into the hotel’s database and found out his room number.

  “I’m going over there,” I said, pocketing my cell.

  “We’re going, too,” Braeden announced, standing. Trent followed suit. Drew was still hunched behind his computer, his fingers flying over the keys.

  I rather liked the idea of four big guys showing up unannounced at this shithead’s door with a special message, but I didn’t like the idea of involving them.

  “You should probably stay. I’m not going to be just talking.” I flexed my fists, so ready to put them to use.

  “No shit?” B chimed in. “We thought we were going for tea and crumpets.”

  “Fuck off,” I ground out.

  “Whoa…” B reared back at the underlying edge in my voice. “Look, we’re all just as pissed this fucker is messing with our sister. We’re all going.”

  Trent and Drew nodded solemnly.

  “Whatever, but if we all end up in jail, don’t get pissed at me.” I paused. “And I get first, second, and third punches.”

  “It’s all you.” B spread his arms.

  Even though I wished beating this punk’s ass was going to be enough to make him walk from the story, I knew better. I needed more than brute force. I glanced at Drew, who was a freaking hella good hacker. I never realized just how good he was until he started messing around with some guys who fucked over Trent.

  It was a skill I needed right now.

  “Drew, I know it’s really short notice, but do you think you could find out anything, any kind of dirt on this Kane guy? I just need anything to help convince him to back off.”

  “Already on it,” Drew said from behind his laptop.

  I blew out a breath, my hands actually shaking from the intensity of my anger. To no one but all of them, I said, “She can’t deal with this right now. She was just starting to seem like herself again. This shit needs to stop. I’ll walk from the NFL if I have to.”

  I felt the silent stare of three sets of eyes. All three of my brothers looked shocked and partially disbelieving.

  I nodded, grave. “One way or another, this story is DOA.”

  “Consider it gone, Rome,” Braeden said. “We’re all behind you. Family takes care of family.”

  Drew went back to typing, Trent watched over his shoulder.

  “I’m gonna go check on Ivy before we go. She was pretty upset. She was running around in her damn panties, for fuck’s sake.”

  I nodded and glanced toward the bathroom.

  B slapped me on the shoulder. “Go check. I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry up,” I ordered.

  He nodded and left the room.

  I left Drew to his computer snooping and let myself in the bathroom. Rim was sitting on the closed toilet seat, just staring at the wall.

  “Rim.” I crouched in front of her.

  Her light-brown eyes met mine. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” I murmured and picked her up to sit down with her in my lap. When she tucked her face into the crook of my neck, a lump formed in my throat.

  “Don’t make yourself sick over this. I’m taking care of it. That story won’t see the light of day.”

  “I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop him.”

  “I’ll stop him,” I said, not an ounce of give in my voice.

  She looked up at me, and I felt her worry.

  I pushed her head back into my neck and hugged a little tighter. “It’s all going to be okay, Rimmel. I promise.”

  I didn’t make a promise lightly. She knew this.

  I felt her inhale, then slowly let it out. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because if I hadn’t… had sex with him, this wouldn’t even be an issue right now.”

  I made a sound, and as much as I loved the feel of her against me, I pulled her around so she was straddling my lap and I could look directly into her eyes.

  Her glasses were slightly crooked from leaning against me, so I adjusted them before addressing her words.

  “I couldn’t give two shits that you slept with him,” I announced. “That story could go national—hell, it could run internationally—and I would still be the luckiest bastard in this world. I would still stop football games for you. I would still love every ugl
y dog and cat you drag home. I would still walk down the street holding your hand and tell everyone who asked exactly where my heart resides.” As I spoke, I pressed a palm to her chest, right over her heart. “This story coming out only upsets me because it upsets you and because it makes you relive something you shouldn’t have to ever think about again.”

  “I made a bad choice,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

  “You were thirteen years old. You were a child. He was older and manipulated you. Frankly, in my eyes, that fucker raped you.”

  “He didn’t—”

  “You defending him?” I asked, no challenge to my words, but I did lift my eyebrow.

  “No.” Her voice was forlorn.

  “You’ve been through enough. I’m putting a stop to it. I can’t make the press stop reporting on us, but I’m going to make it a lot less desirable. By the time I’m finished, everybody in this business is going to know they don’t fuck with my wife, and if they do, they’re going to get a face full of me.”

  “I like a face full of you,” she mused.

  “This isn’t your fault,” I insisted. “It’s that bitch Missy’s.”

  “I hate her,” Rim whispered.

  “Yeah, you and about a million other people,” I muttered. “Don’t worry about her either. I’ll take care of it.”

  Before she could tell me no, I changed the subject. “I need to ask you something. I don’t want to, but it has to be done.”

  “Anything.” Her wide, brown eyes were innocent, open. Honestly, just looking at her made me even more pissed.

  How anyone could take advantage of someone so good and hurt them deliberately was so beyond me.

  “Can you remember anything about Kane? Anything he might have done or if he had a record… a reputation? Anything?”

  Her brows furrowed together like she was really thinking about it. “I’m pretty sure they did some drugs; they definitely drank… maybe some light shoplifting.”

  “Anything else?” I asked, not wanting to make her feel like I was pushing.

  She frowned. “I don’t think so. I was young, and I didn’t ask any questions. When he turned his back on me after, I kinda shut down. I tried to forget.”

  “Okay,” I said gently, pulling her back into me and wrapping my arms around her back. She was trembling. “Have you eaten anything yet today?”

  I felt her shake her head.

  “I’ll order some room service, have it sent up.”

  “I’m not hungry. I feel sick.”

  “How about coffee and juice?”

  She made a sound, and I smiled. It wasn’t a no.

  “I’m going out with the guys for a while. You and Ivy hang out here with the baby. We’ll be back in a bit. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

  “You’re going to find him.”

  Oh, I’d already done that. I sighed. Rim wasn’t stupid, and I could sugarcoat it all I wanted, but she’d see right through me.

  “I’m not going to let this go,” I said honestly.

  “I figured.” She pulled back. I noted how tired she looked. “Just promise me you won’t get arrested.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She rolled her eyes, clearly not believing me.

  “You done in here?” I asked and stood, bringing her with me.

  When she nodded, I carried her out into the bedroom, sitting her on the side of the bed with the pillows at her back. I handed her the room service menu and the remote for the TV.

  “Ivy!” I hollered.

  She appeared with Nova and Braeden on her heels. She looked a lot less harried than this morning, but if I were being honest, she’d definitely looked better. It was like just bringing Missy up had a way of putting shadows back in her eyes that I thought had long since gone away.

  Behind her, Braeden looked pissed, so obviously he’d seen them, too.

  “You two stay here. Watch some chick flick and make sure you order food. Get the whole menu if you want. I don’t care.”

  Ivy nodded, not bothering to argue. She’d probably already done that with Braeden.

  “Don’t answer the door for anyone,” I commanded.

  “What about the room service guy?” she said, glib.

  Two could play at that game.

  “Have him leave the cart in front of the door and open it when he’s gone.”

  “If you go to jail, I’m not bailing you out,” she told me, walking past to hand Nova to Rim and climb onto the bed.

  “I feel the love.”

  Rimmel snorted. I glanced around at her and winked.

  “I’ll see you in a while,” I told her.

  She nodded, her face unsure. I closed the distance between us and kissed her head.

  I walked out of the room without looking back. All three of my brothers followed.

  “Tell me you got something,” I said to Drew once we were in the rental.

  Trent was driving, and Drew was in the passenger seat with his laptop still open. “Sure did,” he replied, smug.

  It seemed like it took forever to get to the other side of Hollywood and to the hotel where Kane was staying. When we finally arrived, I practically jumped out of the rental before it was even fully stopped.

  Trent parked around back, not at the main entrance, and I pulled a baseball hat over my head. In fact, all of us wore one, figuring it was better to at least make us not quite as recognizable.

  There was a side entrance to the hotel, but you needed a key to get entry. We got lucky, though, because there was a large carpet cleaning van parked right nearby, and the giant hose they used to clean with was in the door, propping it open.

  No one saw us walk in and round the corner for the stairwell. Kane was on the third floor. No one said a word as we moved up the stairs.

  We didn’t have a plan. We didn’t really need one. We were family, and we would operate as one unit regardless.

  The anger was still so intense inside me; it hadn’t dulled at all on the trip over here. If anything, it had only grown worse.

  I didn’t hesitate at his door. I knocked on it swiftly as my three brothers stood at my back.

  About two seconds ticked by before I heard the door being opened.

  I stood with my feet planted on the carpet, fists at my sides, and chin down, using the brim of my hat to conceal my face.

  The door swung open. I looked up.

  He knew.

  He knew the instant our eyes met who I was and why I’d come.

  I enjoyed the fear that flashed across his face. I reveled in the fact I was twice his size and he realized it instantly.

  I smiled. It was an unfriendly gesture that, once delivered, made him step back.

  The little chicken shit tried to slam the door in my face.

  He was funny.

  My palm slapped against the solid wood and pushed. The resistance of my one arm outdid his full body throwing into it.

  He knew it was a lost cause and abandoned it to turn and run.

  The motherfucker turned and ran.

  What kind of man ran from a beating he fucking deserved?

  It didn’t matter anyway. I lunged in the doorway and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. He scrambled to get away, but I gripped harder, and he yelped.

  “Please!” he implored. “I—”

  In one movement, I spun him around and swung. Before he was even done turning, my fist drove into his face. His head snapped back, and he stumbled. I hit him again. This time blood bloomed over his lower lip.

  His eyes widened when he fell onto his ass in the center of the room. He sat there and dabbed at the blood.

  “Get up,” I growled. I didn’t hit a man who was down. He could stand up and take it.

  He shook his head like he was just going to sit there and be a pansy.

  I picked up him, forcing him on his feet, then drove my fist into his midsection. He made a heaving sound and doubled over. As he was bending, I gave him an uppercut to the jaw.

 
; He fell again. All the way down onto his back, blinking up at me from the carpet.

  My chest heaved. Not from exertion, but from anger.

  You’re waiting for a description of this asshole, aren’t you? The color of his eyes. The style of his hair and what kind of clothes he wore.

  Here’s my description of the guy who stole my wife’s virginity when she was just a child: fugly.

  I saw nothing when I looked at him. I only felt disgust.

  His head lolled from side to side as he lay there and wallowed in pain. Christ, did he have no self-respect at all? I was kind of fucking shocked he was such a wimp. He hadn’t even tried to hit me.

  Braeden stepped up beside me and stared down. “Dude, you’re a fucking pussy.”

  “Maybe,” he said, dabbing at his lip. “But these bruises sure will look good on camera for the interview. Might even get me some extra cash.”

  I growled.

  Braeden reached down and hauled him up, pinning his arms behind his back and serving him up to me like dessert. I didn’t touch him. Instead, I shoved my face within inches of his. “Oh, there isn’t going to be any interview.” I motioned to B but spoke to Kane. “Have a seat. We need to have a conversation.”

  Braeden tossed him into a nearby chair. I stood in front of him, making sure I was close enough he had to look up.

  Trent and Braeden flanked me. Drew was somewhere behind us. I still heard his fingers flying over the keyboard.

  “Romeo,” Kane said, dabbing at his already swelling lip. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not walking away from that pile of cash.”

  “How much?” I asked. “How much is my wife’s humiliation worth?”

  “I still can’t believe that mouse bagged an NFL player.” He scoffed.

  Braeden’s hand shot out and slapped him upside his head. “Don’t you fucking talk about my sister like that,” he ground out.

  Kane shrugged. “I’ll admit she looks better now than she did at thirteen. Still don’t have any tits, though.”

  I moved fast, so fast no one saw it coming. I swiped my leg out, knocked into his chair, and it toppled over with him in it. I ended up leaning over him, my face shoved in close to his.

  “You say one more word about my wife and I won’t be responsible for what happens after,” I spoke, dead calm. Almost monotone. It was eerie, even to me. I didn’t blink, and I didn’t touch him again. I just stared. I let him see the full promise deep in my eyes.