Model Bodyguard (Haven Investigations Book 2)

by Lissa Kasey

  “Baby, Kisten was probably dead by the time we put Jacob in the car.”

  “The picture came from his Instagram account.” Ollie held up his tablet, navigated to Instagram and what appeared to be Kisten’s account. The picture was there, and so were a million others with pictures of Kisten or Jacob. Or Kisten and Jacob together. “Levi told me this was blowing up in the media. I traced the picture on TinEye while he was lecturing me on how much it was going to cost to clean up my mess.”

  My jaw dropped. “Say what?”

  “He said I was always bad press for Jacob. That I’ve always been nothing but trouble. He’s always hated us together. Any steady lover Jacob’s had. I remember when Jacob and I first started dating, Levi warned me not to go asking for cars or diamonds. He didn’t care if I was a whore, I wasn’t going to be paid like one.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “I get it. I do,” Ollie said. “Levi sort of replaced Jacob’s dad, watching over him and taking care of him like Nathan did for me. I tried not to be mad whenever he made comments. I got that he didn’t think I was good enough for Jacob, but I never asked for any of the trouble.”

  “Jacob does just fine generating bad press on his own,” I said. “Did you tell Jacob what Levi was doing? That all sounds like he’s overstepping boundaries. Even if Levi was Jacob’s real dad, Jacob is a grown man, capable of making his own damn decisions.”

  Ollie shrugged. “You know how protective he is of his family.”

  “That doesn’t excuse blatantly ignoring a problem.”

  Ollie’s look of disbelief made me swallow back a laugh.

  “Okay, so Jacob is really good at ignoring problems.”

  “Whatever.” Ollie shoved his irritation aside. “I’m tired of focusing on this. Tired of this case. Levi gave me limited access to the accounts. I just have to go log in with my normal computer. Problem is I can only see what he allows me to see. He said he couldn’t trust me not to tamper with stuff. Like I’m going to go transferring money from Jacob’s account to mine. He says the media is going nuts because of me and not to expect a payout just to go away since he wouldn’t be approving that sort of spending. I reminded him that Emily had hired us, but he said he paid the bills, and we wouldn’t be getting a dime. He said he’d speak to Emily about hiring a firm with a less personal gain at stake.”

  I took a step back toward the building.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To beat the shit out of Levi.”

  Ollie stepped in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. “Let’s just go talk to Joel. Maybe Kisten told him something. I just want this over so we can drop Jacob back into his own world of crazies and go on with just being us.”

  I growled. “It’s not your fault. This news bullshit. And fuck them if they think they aren’t going to pay us. I’ll sic Ty on their asses. Hell, they don’t even know where their rock star is. We have him. We could hold him hostage.” The idea appealed to me. Maybe Jacob could use the opportunity to hire new people. People who actually cared about his welfare instead of dollar signs, fucking, and fame.

  “Focus on what we can change,” Ollie said. It was something his therapist told him often.

  “What’s to change? You’re not with Jacob. You’re not the bane of his existence, someone in his family is. We’ll get paid because one of your ex-lovers is a lawyer who scares the shit out of other lawyers but loves you like a kid brother. Oh, and there’s the cop who will spread the word to other cops should they find one of Jacob’s family speeding, or jaywalking, or some other bullshit.” I hugged him. “It’s not just you anymore, baby. It’s not just me. No matter what comes, it’s us. Got that?”

  He nodded, sucking in deep gulps of air and letting himself melt into my arms. Sometimes he was so strong I’d forget just how fragile he could be. I wiped away his tears with my shirtsleeve. He breathed in the scent of me, his face pressed to my neck. Thankfully he was finally calming down. I could have stayed there all day, maybe had another round of play in the front seat of my SUV, but my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, cursed, and answered, “What’s up, Ty?”

  “We’re playing pass the baton and it’s your turn.”

  “Let me guess. Jacob is the baton?”

  “Got it in one. He’s with Tomas right now, and since I just finished holding court for all the media junkies, they were able to get away unnoticed. Tomas is driving all over to make sure to lose any tails, but we’ll need you to meet him somewhere neutral to pick him up.”

  I groaned. “We had someone else we wanted to talk to first.”

  “The youngest brother?” Ty asked.

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  “My office just called to let me know that you and Ollie are being served with a restraining order to keep away from him.”

  “Say what? Who filed it? Emily?” Was that what she was calling about when we were leaving?

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I get back to the office and can start talking to people. Where should I have Tomas meet you? And don’t say Haven. The media was all over the office this morning. Tomas had to close to keep them from barging in and asking questions about how Ollie is apparently back with Jacob.”

  I closed my eyes. This had to be a nightmare. Was I still in bed after the long night of taping down vents to keep the cat out? “Fuck,” I said quietly.

  Ollie pried the phone from my fingers because I really didn’t know what to do. If we were smart, we’d take Jacob to a hotel and dump his ass in front of his hired guard to protect. But sometimes we just weren’t smart. Ollie quickly fired questions at Ty. He gave the location for a private underground parking garage where we’d pick up Jacob. Ollie thanked him and hung up the phone, stuffing it in my pocket. He put the hands-free in my ear.

  “You drive.”

  “Really?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Yes.” He pulled his computer out of his bag. “I need to hack.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  He gave me the ghost of a smile and got into the passenger side of the car.

  “You need food,” I told him as we headed toward the lot. “It’s past lunchtime.” Almost two in the afternoon even. I wondered what time Jacob’s event was and if I could talk him out of it. Or maybe Ollie could. “What time does Jacob need to be wherever he needs to be?” I would have to call Duke and give him specific instructions on the security required for this event, including keeping Jacob’s family away.

  “We’ll eat after we pick up Jacob.” Ollie’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “We can stop by that vegan place.”

  “The rock star is supposed to be lying low.”

  “So he puts on your army jacket and a hat and no one recognizes him.”

  “There’s no way it can be that simple.”

  Ollie snorted. “He does it all the time. He’s a pro at sneaking away from his guard, and walking right through a crowd of reporters unnoticed. I never had that luxury.”

  I tried to imagine Ollie in something other than shorts and a flirty top. It was sort of a weird image, him in jeans and a T-shirt, or even wrapped up in one of my old blue dress top coats and nothing else. Okay, that was kind of hot. More than kind of. “Thinking of you dressed up is making me hard,” I confessed to him.

  “No time for hanky-panky in the car. We’ve got to rescue the rock star, feed him and us, and get him to the studio by five so they can glam him up. Do you have any idea how much makeup and hairspray it takes to make him look like a rock star?” Ollie was scrolling through pages on his laptop. It looked like spreadsheets, but I couldn’t examine them and drive at the same time. “We can play later.”

  “What are you looking at?”

  “The financials,” he said. “All of them. Once Levi gave me partial access, I just plowed my way through so I can see the whole thing.”

  “And?”

  His shoulders slumped. “There’s a lot of shit to analyze. I have to make spreadsheets of spreadsheets just to sort it
out. How does anyone do accounting like this? It should be separated by person and type of account, like home spending, work, etcetera. What a mess. There’s probably a system. Every accountant has a system. His is just weird.”

  That wasn’t good news. “You analyze. I’ll drive,” I told him and made my way to pick up Jacob.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  JACOB PLOWED through the avocado salad Ollie had ordered him. He’d eaten slouched over in his seat closest to the wall, huddled in my coat, and an old stocking hat I’d dug out of the back of the SUV. Ollie picked through his stir-fry while I laid out a detailed plan for the evening with Duke. Duke, who I learned from Jacob was Adrian Duke, already had his best guards at the studio.

  “I need everyone searched and scanned. All equipment triple-checked before we set foot in the building. All crew, whether it’s ours or otherwise, has to be documented, verified, and screened. No family,” I added the last bit, which made Jacob glance up, a frown creasing his brow.

  “They won’t like that. Emily and Levi attend almost every performance,” Duke told me.

  “They can attend. But they will have no access to him, his dressing room, or his equipment. I want two guards on him at all times. Keep it low-key, but close.”

  “Emily is going to bitch. She’s already bitching,” Duke grumbled. “Threatening to fire people.”

  “Ollie and I work for Jacob.” I glanced at Jacob, whose eyes widened. “She can scream about firing people all she wants, but I’m trying to protect her brother.”

  Duke’s sigh was long and loud. “So be it. I’ll battle the dragon lady until you get here. What time should we expect you?”

  “Around six,” I told him. “Ollie’s got friends who are going to do Jacob’s hair and makeup so he doesn’t need to be exposed to more people than necessary right now.” The show wasn’t to begin recording until eight so there was plenty of time. I didn’t suspect Jacob’s regular couture crew wanted to hurt him, but we were playing a game of supercautious chess. The fewer people who knew where he was the better.

  “All right. Call or text me if there’s a problem.”

  “You do the same.”

  “Affirmative.” We hung up the phone. Jacob had stopped eating. He still looked tired.

  “Emily is just trying to keep me safe,” he protested weakly.

  “She’s trying to keep your company in the black. I’m trying to keep you safe,” I informed him.

  He glanced at Ollie. “Hair and makeup people? I like my people.”

  “The fewer of your people who have access to you right now, the safer you are. The safer they are. We don’t want anyone else to end up like Kisten.”

  He flinched. I knew it was a low blow, but Jacob had to realize how serious this was.

  “I could do it myself,” Ollie offered. “But you wouldn’t look like you normally do.”

  “Okay,” Jacob agreed after a moment.

  “Okay?” Ollie asked.

  “You can do it. Whatever. Make me look however you want. I don’t care. Just don’t make me look like a clown. This whole thing is for Kisten. The host said I could talk about him and play a song for him. I don’t get a say in anything else. Just let me do this.”

  “Okay,” Ollie agreed.

  “Emily said she was making funeral arrangements for him. You could talk to her. Add your input,” I said.

  Jacob shook his head. “It’s not our place. It’s his family’s choice. Emily shouldn’t be involved for any other reason than to pay for it.”

  Only that wasn’t how she’d made it sound when we’d spoken to her earlier. “Any idea why she doesn’t want us to talk to Joel?”

  “Probably worried that he’ll do something like Josh did.”

  “Kill himself?” I clarified. He nodded. “But they won’t let him at the facility he’s at, right? No access to pills or anything he could harm himself with. That’s the usual inpatient protocol for substance abuse and depression.” I’d spent a good part of my youth in hospitals that were more like prisons. Access to anything was damn near impossible, including the bathroom. “I can’t imagine talking to us will hurt him.”

  “I have no control over whatever court orders Emily does,” Jacob protested. “Even if I thought you should talk to Joel.”

  “You pay for whatever she does, so yeah, you do. And why don’t you think we should talk to him?”

  “Because he’s sick,” Jacob said.

  “He is and he’s not,” Ollie told him. “I have depression, a general anxiety disorder, and anorexia. I’m sick, and I’m not. The hospital can help him, but only if he wants the help. Let me talk to him. Maybe he does want help, but maybe where he is isn’t the place that’s best for him. It sounds like you guys haven’t given him a lot of choices.”

  It was the first time I’d ever heard Ollie admit out loud to anyone other than his therapist that he had anorexia. Somehow the depression and anxiety had been easy to accept, but the last had not. It wasn’t something men got, or so Ollie had believed for a long time. It had taken Jolanda giving him stats of the growing number of men with eating disorders for him to even consider it. Then there had been the video of a guy who’d starved himself until he looked like nothing but skin stretched across a skeleton. Ollie had winced when Jolanda had first shown him the interview. The man spoke, his words echoing a lot of what I knew was in Ollie’s head, and less than a week later he’d finally agreed to treatment.

  Jacob stared at Ollie, like he was trying to see something that wasn’t written on the surface, or a lie that he could easily cast us aside with.

  “I’m sick,” Ollie said again. “But I’m getting better. It was hard to admit for a long time.” He looked at me. “Kade helped me. He didn’t force me. Didn’t berate me. Never said I told you so. He just nudged me in the right direction and held my hand the whole way.”

  “Joel needs that?” Jacob inquired. But I was pretty sure he understood that Ollie wasn’t talking as much about Joel right now as he was talking about Jacob.

  “He needs someone to understand, not shove their ideas down his throat. He needs to confront his past and realize it had a part in making him who he is, but it’s not the whole story. He’s stronger than that.” Ollie touched Jacob’s arm and I wondered just what Ollie knew that he hadn’t shared with me. Something about Jacob’s past.

  Jacob looked away, staring intently at his plate instead of us. “Sounds like a fantasy.”

  “Overcoming your past?” I asked.

  “Having someone with you no matter what,” he clarified.

  “Not a fantasy,” I told him. “Not easy to find, but not a fantasy. It takes giving up control sometimes.”

  He frowned, then pushed his plate away. “Are we done here? Can we go?” He didn’t look at either of us and I knew why. There was emotion eating Jacob Elias. Loneliness. Loss. He needed something I didn’t think we could give him. Peace. Like Ollie, it was something he had to find on his own, for himself, or it would never be real to him.

  “Sure,” I said, took cash out of my wallet, and threw it on the table so we could make our way out of the restaurant. “Let’s get you to our house so Ollie can glam you up.” I looked him over. “How do you feel about lace and tulle?”

  He glared at me, then looked at Ollie. “I’m not wearing lace or tulle, whatever the fuck that is.”

  JACOB DIDN’T end up in either fabric, though he still wasn’t in his normal garb of leather, denim, and cotton. Ollie had chosen a pair of black silk pants for Jacob and a button-up metallic teal dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black A-shirt underneath. It was all from Jacob’s packed bag and Ollie’s stash of designs, but put together with neutral makeup and a softer windswept hairstyle made Jacob look more real. Human, but attractive. Less like a superstar and more like the good-looking boy next door. The shirt was sort of peacock-ish, which really suited Jacob’s personality, but also made his olive skin tone balance out. He wasn’t the nice honey shade Ollie had, but he wa
sn’t as pale as me either. I couldn’t pull off a color like that without it overwhelming me. On Jacob, it worked.

  “Would look better with tattoos, right?” Jacob asked while standing in front of the full-length mirror in Ollie’s room. Ollie was apparently unhappy with Jacob’s shoe selection because he was digging through the dozens of pairs he’d bought me. My feet were only slightly bigger than Jacob’s. I wasn’t yet sure how I felt about him wearing my shoes.

  “Don’t get ink on my account,” I told him. But yeah, add some ink to his bare arms and he’d have been crazy hot, and it made me nuts to have to admit that to myself. There was no way I was going to say it to him.

  The shirt, open at the collar, bared some of his chest and the black undershirt. He looked more toned than I knew he was. It was all in the cut of the shirt, the contrast of colors. Tucked into his pants, the shirt accentuated his narrow waist, and the silk fabric of the pants defined his ass, hugged it, stretching across the globes like something a famous soccer player was known to wear. Jacob was slimmer than me, but didn’t have Ollie’s nice curve, so the pants had to be either from his own bags or something that Ollie was working on. There was a hint of blue on the bottom outer seam of each leg, which, partnered with the black, made him seem taller, and was probably why Ollie was now obsessing over shoes.

  “It means something.” He glanced at me, turning to look at my arms, which were bare, as I was just in an A-shirt and dark-wash jeans myself. Ollie would be dressing me for the evening as well, since we might show up in photos somewhere. My only requirement was that he choose something I could easily hide and draw my weapon from. “Your tattoos? They are more than just art.”

  “Yeah.” I turned so he could look at the newest one. “My life in a nutshell.”

  “Madness?” Jacob asked. Ollie returned with boots for him and a shirt for me. Jacob stepped into the shoes, letting Ollie fuss for a minute. Then Ollie vanished back into the closet. My shirt was pale blue. I pulled it on over the white undershirt and began to button it up. It was long sleeve, but there was not enough give in the fabric to roll up them up.