by Sybil Bartel
Christ. “Used to what?”
“What’s about to come.” She walked toward the front door.
HE GRABBED MY ARM. “YOU’RE not opening that door.”
For a split second, I thought he meant he wasn’t going to make me see my agent, Jerry. I turned to look up at him to tell him it was fine, I’d have to face the music sooner or later, but he set me against the wall in the hallway.
“Wait,” he ordered.
Goose bumps raced across my flesh as I watched his huge, muscular body move down the hall toward his bedroom. The memory of his intense stare and his hand on me as he fed me made me shiver. No man had ever looked at me like that. Not even in a movie. I didn’t even know a single actor who could’ve pulled that kind of intensity off. Which was a giant warning that I was in over my head, but I was too busy fantasizing about the most dominant, most masculine, most infuriating man I’d ever met, and dangerously forgetting every reason why I swore off men.
I was trying to convince myself that just because he’d offered to send Jerry away didn’t make him trustworthy when he came back down the hallway dressed. Black polo, black cargos, black combat boots, he was shoving a black gun in a holster on his waist, and he looked almost hotter than when he was parading around in nothing but his underwear.
Forcing a screen-worthy smile as my traitorous stomach fluttered, I straightened my shoulders and looked at the insignia on his shirt. “Are all the bodyguards at Luna and Associates ridiculously ripped?” My previous bodyguard, Tyler, was a few inches shorter than Tank and had about thirty pounds less of muscle, but he’d still been ripped by Hollywood standards—by any standards, actually.
Tyler had also been movie star handsome. I’d told him he should be an actor, but he’d only laughed. I couldn’t picture Tank laughing. I couldn’t even picture him in a full smile. That was the other huge difference between him and Tyler. Tyler had actually been nice, polite even. Tank wasn’t polite. And striding toward me, he didn’t even look cordial. He looked pissed off and battle ready, and I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy.
“Give me a timeframe,” he clipped, moving past me in a wave of masculine scent I wanted to bottle and sniff every night for the rest of my life.
“Timeframe for what?” There was something wrong with me, because all I could think about was that he was even hotter pissed off.
He stopped at the door as Jerry pounded on it again. “How long you want your agent here?”
“Funny.” I laughed without humor.
I’d made Jerry. He’d gotten me my first break, but I’d earned every contract after that because I’d worked my ass off and done everything right. Jerry was set for life from the money he’d made off me and the subsequent A-listers who’d flocked to him hoping to get a piece of the magic he claimed he’d created for me. He was rich beyond his dreams because I’d been too stupid and too young to negotiate a better contract with him, but he acted like every breath I took was because of a privilege he’d provided.
I was over it.
I’d been over it. I’d been planning for the past year to fire Jerry after this movie. I was sure he suspected what was coming, because his asshole-ness had upped to a new level and he’d been riding me hard about signing the deal for the next movie, but I’d outright ignored him.
Looking completely unamused, Tank stood by the door with his hand on his hip. “There was nothing funny about the question.”
“More like ironic,” I explained. “Jerry’s a class-A asshole, and he’ll stay as long as it takes for him to rip me a new one for whatever I did last night, then lecture me how he made me, and try to strong-arm me into signing the next deal, which I won’t do. So, however long that takes.” I waved my arm toward the door. “Let Mr. My-Shit-Doesn’t-Stink in and you can witness it all for yourself.” Apparently being drugged with who knew what the night before caused me to lose all professionalism around my new bodyguard, because I’d just aired more dirty laundry in ten seconds than I had in ten years. “Or if you’re really smart, you’ll quote me and sell that to TMZ for a mint.”
My new tank of a bodyguard frowned and opened the door.
In a perpetual state of pissed off and bulldog fueled by life-threatening amounts of caffeine, Jerry pushed his way through the door with barely a glance at Tank.
Aiming for me, his pointer finger already out, his suit rumpled from probably an overnight flight, Jerry let loose before both feet had crossed the threshold. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, MacKen—”
The last part of my last name died on his lips as Tank grabbed his hand and twisted, putting him in an arm bar.
Jerry’s face twisted with shock as he was incapacitated by my new favorite bodyguard.
“My place, my rules,” Tank warned with lethal calm. “Speak to her in a civil manner or not at all.”
I smiled. Grinned, actually. “Hi, Jerry.”
Jerry’s shock turned to rage in zero point two seconds. “Do you know who I am?” he yelled at Tank.
“You berate, harangue, or intimidate her, you’re no one. You speak to her like a fucking human being, you’re her agent. Make a choice.” He didn’t raise his voice, but Tank’s message was still one hundred percent clear. Fuck with me, you’ll get fucked by him.
I went all squishy inside.
Jerry’s face turned beet red as he growled out an answer. “Fine.”
“Tone,” Tank warned.
“I said, fine,” Jerry snapped.
The elevator across the hall from Tank’s still open front door dinged and the doors slid apart.
Tank moved.
Swinging Jerry around, still holding him in an arm bar, Tank drew his gun as my publicist, her assistant, and Colton fucking Payne looked at us.
“Oh,” Janette, my ever-calm, always understated publicist whispered.
Colton smirked. “Is this a bad time?” Pushing his way past Janette and her assistant, Corrine, he gave me a snide look as he walked right in to Tank’s place. “Because we can come back when you’re…” He dragged his gaze lecherously down my body. “Dressed.”
My hatred focused on Colton, I didn’t see Tank move.
A giant muscled arm shot out and the barrel of Tank’s gun pressed into Colton’s temple.
Colton instantly threw his hands up. “Hey, hey, hey, dude. Relax.”
This time, Tank’s tone did change. It turned lethal as hell. “You’ve got one fucking chance to answer my question.” Still holding Jerry’s arm twisted behind his back, Tank’s nostrils flared. “What did you drug her with last night?”
Janette and Corrine collectively gasped.
Colton went white as hell. “I didn’t—”
“Safety’s off,” Tank warned. “Give me one reason not to pull the trigger, intruder.”
“Okay, all right!” Colton’s voice pitched high as fuck. “I did it, okay? But it was harmless, just a little acid. No harm, no foul. Just a trip, man. She needed to relax. She wanted it. It’s cool, it’s cool.”
“She what?” Tank growled, pressing the gun even harder against Colton’s head.
Colton’s arms went straight up as he locked his elbows. “Okay, okay! Maybe she didn’t ask for it, I get it, I get it.”
Anger surged. “You fucking piece of shit, Colton. I never do drugs. I told you that the first hundred times you tried to push your pharmacy of shit on me.” I swung my glare to Jerry. “I told you he needs a fucking intervention before he kills someone!”
His face pinched in pain, his arm about to snap behind his back from Tank’s pressure, Jerry didn’t say shit.
“What a fucking joke both of you are.” I was disgusted with all of them. Except the man holding the gun.
His aim never wavering, Tank lowered his voice. “You do that again, to her, to any woman, you’re answering to me, Payne. Understand?”
“I’m cool, it’s cool. I get it. We’re good, man. All good.” Colton tried to nod.
“Correction, we’re not good. We ne
ver will be. Remember that.” Tank glared at him for two heartbeats, then he holstered his weapon in a move so natural to him, so clearly a part of his everyday life, it made every action movie I’d ever worked on seem like the cheapest of imitations.
Releasing Jerry’s arm, Tank swung his intense stare toward me. “Who stays?”
Janette, ever the optimist, raised her hand. “Um, I think I need to. And my assistant, Corrine. We need to, um….” She trailed off as she looked between Colton and me, before looking back at Tank. “With your permission, we’d like to come in and discuss strategy.”
Tank didn’t take his eyes off me. “It’s Audrina’s call.”
At the mention of my full name, four pairs of eyes turned from Tank to me.
“What?” I asked sarcastically. “No one realized the great Dreena MacKenzie has an actual real name?” Un-fucking-believable. Turning toward the living room, I gave them all what they wanted. “They can stay.”
The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could call my lawyer.
I was done.
So fucking done.
IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE audience, I would’ve beat the shit out of the little prick actor. Then I would’ve beaten him again. That fucker needed to pay.
Drugging women.
I was fucking enraged, and that was a goddamn bad sign.
Looking ten years older than when he’d pushed through my front door, the agent followed Audrina into the living room. The pussy actor rushed to keep up with the agent like it’d protect him from me.
The publicist, who I’d called last night to tell her what the fuck was up, looked at me with reservation. “Thank you again for calling me and giving me a heads-up. It’s much easier to do my job when I can get ahead of these things.”
I tipped my chin in response but every one of them could fuck off for all I cared. My job was to protect the actress. If that meant from her own people, so be it. I saw the look on her face when I mentioned her agent. And now that all these fucks were here, I could only imagine the bullshit they were gonna unleash so they could spin the drugging into some kind of cash flow for themselves.
Fucking disgusting.
I slammed my front door shut, then followed the publicist and her mouse of an assistant into my living room. The agent was standing over Audrina as she sat cross-legged in the corner of my couch, and the fucking prick junkie was staring out at my view. Normally I would never intrude. My job was to be invisible, but seeing Audrina sit there as her agent tried to intimidate her, I made a decision.
Glaring at the older prick, I moved to the end of the couch where Audrina sat and crossed my arms before tipping my chin at the chair behind the agent. “Have a seat.”
Without comment, but giving me the eye right back, he sat. “Dreena,” he stated, inhaling like he needed patience. “You have publicity interviews lined up every day, this could not have come at a worse time,” he lectured. “The studio is all over me, and if I thought for one second that you were going to—”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I warned. “She didn’t do shit.”
His nostrils flared, but he kept his eyes on Audrina. “Janette is going to pull you out of this mess, but you need to do exactly what she says.”
As if on cue, the publicist sat down on the couch and took papers out of her briefcase. “Okay, here’s the plan. You and Colton are a couple. You had an argu—”
“NO.” Audrina shot to her feet. “No way in hell am I pretending to be with that asshole!” She threw Payne a scathing look before glaring back at her publicist. “Everyone knows he fucks anyone and everyone, not mention he’s an addict!”
“Sit down,” the agent clipped.
The publicist held her hand up. “I get it, I do, but this will help both of you and the studio,” she said quickly, before rattling off the rest of it. “Colton’s agreed to rehab after the movie releases and you’ll escort him. In turn, he’ll publicly admit to giving you something… recreational that you weren’t prepared for, then you hold hands and announce your support for each other and make nice-nice. He walks into rehab, you shed a few tears and a week later everyone will forget about it and hopefully the studio won’t sue.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“How about I call my lawyer? I press charges. I sue his ass. And he goes to jail?” Audrina spit out. “He drugged me!”
The agent dropped his head to his hands. The publicist drew her lips into her mouth. The assistant stared at her shoes, and the fucking junkie sighed like he was bored.
I’d never thought about being proud of a woman before, but in that moment, not only did I vote for Audrina’s plan, I was proud as fuck that she’d stood up for herself.
The agent looked up at her, and the second I saw his expression, my muscles tightened.
“Did you get a blood test?” the fuck asked.
Audrina blinked. “What?”
“Blood test,” the agent repeated. “Did you get one? Can you prove he was the one who drugged you? Can you prove anyone drugged you? How do we know you didn’t take something yourself and you’re just blaming him?”
You could hear a motherfucking pin drop.
Itching to slam my fist into his face, instinct yelling at me to get her away from these assholes, I was about to open my mouth and kick them all out, when the gorgeous blonde I’d slept next to last night turned to me.
Calm and totally fucking collected, she raised an eyebrow. “Can you please take me to the hospital?”
I didn’t fucking delay. I threw my arm around her shoulders and led her to the door.
“Wait one goddamn second!” the agent bellowed.
“Dreena,” the publicist frantically called.
My keys and wallet already in my pocket, I opened my front door.
“MacKenzie,” the agent snapped in a furious growl.
“Let her go,” the junkie scoffed. “She’s bluffing.”
I rushed her out my door and down the hall, past the elevator. I shoved the door to the stairwell open then scooped her up.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she looked behind us. “They’re going to follow us.”
“Let them.” I carried her down the first flight, skipping the last two steps.
Her arms tightened around my neck. “You left them alone in your condo.”
“What are they gonna do? Steal my bacon and eggs?” I went down another flight.
She glanced at the stairs below us then looked back behind us. “Guns, ammo, money, I don’t know.”
“I keep that shit locked in a safe they’ll never find.” I took us down another flight. Two more and I could cut to the other end of the building.
“I was half kidding.”
“I wasn’t.”
She tightened her hold on me. “Why the stairs?”
“Elevator would’ve taken too long.” I fucking liked her holding on to me.
“I can walk.”
“I’m faster and you have no shoes.” Another flight.
“They’ll just take the elevator and be waiting for us in the lobby.”
“We’re not going to the lobby.” I hit the lower level that had the service elevator that went directly to the garage. Exiting the stairwell, I carried her across the length of the building, then set her down in front of a set of double doors as I pulled my keys out.
“What are you doing?” She looked nervously behind us.
“Service elevator.” I opened the door, let her through, then closed the door behind us and hit the call button. Pocketing my keys, I pulled my cell out and dialed Luna.
He answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“I need Audrina MacKenzie’s personal items removed from her hotel, and I need a call ahead for a VIP at memorial.”
“Mierda,” Luna swore in Spanish. “She okay?”
“Precautionary,” I clipped, not wanting to say more until we were in a secure location.
“Copy that. Hold on.” He held the phone away and called to
someone, then came back on the line. “Tyler’s on his way to her hotel now. Do you need to get her to the hospital ASAP or do you want her shit first?”
“Personal items first.” She needed to put some clothes on. “I’m coming in. Tell Tyler to meet us in the garage.” I wasn’t bringing her up the elevators or into Luna and Associates in only my T-shirt where a minimum of ten ex-Marines would be working.
“Copy that,” Luna confirmed. “Give Tyler twenty. I’ll call ahead to Memorial once you get here.”
“Thanks. I’ve got another issue.” I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. “Do we still have access to the security cameras at Club Frenzy?”
“Last I checked, why?”
“I need the feeds pulled from last night. Colton Payne was with Audrina. He admitted to drugging her. I want the footage if it exists.”
“Jesucristo,” Luna muttered. “I’m pulling them up now. I’ll let you know what I find. Anything else?”
“I need the four people in my condo gone and my access code to the lobby changed.” I never should’ve given the agent prick my access code last night, but he wasn’t sure when he’d get in and I hadn’t been willing to risk leaving her alone to let him in. I could’ve changed the code myself, but I had my fucking hands full. Literally.
“I’ll send Sawyer to your place and text you the new code once I program it. I’ll make a copy of any footage I find from Frenzy and text it. For the record, I hope she goes after the asshole.”
“Ditto. Thanks.”
“De nada. Call if you need anything else.”
“Copy that.” I hung up and the elevator arrived.
We stepped inside, and I hit then garage level button.
She looked up at me. “So, you could’ve gotten my clothes all along.”
I didn’t answer. I stared straight ahead, because she was right. I could have, but I didn’t. And after seeing how she was treated by those people, I was man enough to admit I was a fucking tool for it.
HE SILENTLY STARED AT THE elevator display flashing the floors as we descended.