by Hannah Ford
WHAT HE GUARDS (What He Wants, Book Twelve)
By Hannah Ford
Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
CHARLOTTE
I stared down at the phone in my hand, feeling disconnected from my body, like I was in some kind of dream state. I’d only ever felt that way once before – when I was watching my father die, when I was standing by his bedside while his body rattled as he took his last breaths, the smell of antiseptic and chicken soup heavy in the room.
But this was much more intense. With my father, it was like I’d been watching a movie or a scene in a snow globe. Now it felt like I was in the movie, like I was part of the scene. And even though none of it felt grounded in reality, I knew I couldn’t escape.
“Charlotte,” Noah demanded again. “Who was it?”
He took my phone from my hand and looked at the call log, his brow furrowing when he saw “Unknown” written on the screen. He took in a long measured breath. “That was him? The man who sent you to Audi?”
I nodded.
“What did he say?”
The room was slowly coming back into focus, the colors and angles sharpening. I flexed my fingers experimentally, wondering if I was going to have another panic attack like I’d had the other day. But instead of feeling weak and numb, I began to feel strong.
I was sick of being on the defensive, sick of waiting for things to happen. I was sick of being scared, sick of waiting for Noah to allow me into his world, sick of just sitting on the sidelines while everyone else swept me up in their decisions.
I was under attack. And I wanted to fight back.
“Charlotte!” Noah demanded. “Look at me.”
I looked at him, my heart clenching at the worry on his face. “He said he was going to kill me.”
Noah’s eyes blackened and his complexion became ruddy as two spots of color darkened his cheeks. “He said what?”
“He said he was going to kill me. He said he was going to strangle me just like he strangled Katie. He asked me if I was going scream like she did.”
“Jesus, Charlotte.” He ran his hand through his dark hair and his jaw tightened. The expression on his face was steady, even, but I could sense his rage boiling beneath the surface. He was furious at me for defying him, for sending that email to Ryan Ramos, for putting myself in danger.
He took a step toward me, and his temple throbbed. I met his eyes, and we stood there for a moment in my living room, just staring at each other, a heightened intensity hanging in the air between us. I knew he wanted to punish me. I’d been defying him repeatedly over the past twenty-four hours, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like me not trusting him, didn’t like me threatening his control. He was resisting the urge to spank me and fuck me and tie me – I could see the desire searing in his eyes and I wondered how long he’d be able to fight it.
His emotions around the fact that I’d put myself in danger had transformed into a dark and twisted need to control my body, and I could see him wrestling with it, trying his best to keep it at bay for now.
He seemed to be successful as the intense look in his eyes diminished just the tiniest bit. My heart rate began slowing, but I knew it wasn’t over. Noah may have been successful in tamping his urges for now, but they would be back, and when they came they would be stronger than ever.
“We’re calling the police.”
“No,” I said. I’d expected my voice to be shrieky and shrill, but instead it sounded strong and determined. For a second I had that same flash of being disconnected from my body, but a second later it was gone and I was firmly grounded back in reality.
“Yes,” Noah said, beginning to dial the number on my phone.
“Noah!” I said. “No!” I grabbed for the phone, but he held it just out of my reach. I lunged for it again, but his body was made of stone, expertly conditioned by hours of running and weights.
“Charlotte, this is not up for negotiation,” he said, like I was a child being told I couldn’t play with a favorite toy.
“What are you going to say to them, Noah?” I demanded. “That some random person called and threatened my life?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to say.” He’d finished dialing, and he put the phone to his ear, waiting for the call to be picked up.
“Are you serious?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you even thinking this through? What do you think the police are going to think, Noah? Do you think they’re going to believe you?”
“It’s inconsequential whether they believe me or not. They will be forced to take action.”
“Really, Noah? They’ve charged you with first degree murder. They’ve started the trial process. They’re not going to be jumping at the chance to start looking at other suspects. They’re going to accuse you of lying, they’re going to say that you’re interfering with their justice process.”
“Can I have Detective Fisk, please?” he said into the phone. “Thank you.” He was put on hold, and he shook his head at me. “You’ve been reading one too many crime novels, Charlotte.”
“That’s bullshit. They want to nail you for this, Noah. They’ve been quiet so far because they’re waiting for the media to get interested, and then they’re going to ride this case for all it’s worth. Me sending that email was just the first step of what was inevitably going to happen. The DA’s office wants to bury you, and they’re not going to listen to anything that makes it look like they’ve got the wrong person. And you know it.”
“Charlotte, I will not play games with your life. Now get your things.”
“Get my things?”
“Yes. We’re going back to my apartment. You agreed to do as I say, and this is what I’m saying.”
“And you agreed to try things my way.”
“Yes, well, the situation has changed.”
Red hot fury coursed through me. How dare he just decide to change our agreement. He’d said we could try this my way, and at the first sign of a speed bump, he was taking it back.
A weariness washed over me.
Let him, a voice in my head whispered, tempting and sweet. Let him take over, let him call the police. Let him take you back to his apartment, let him take his frustration out on you with his hand, his belt, his cock. The thoughts pulled on my mind. Come on, they beckoned. Just do it. Let him take over.
But I couldn’t give in.
Because Noah was wrong.
His desire to protect me was clouding his judgment. If he called the police, it was going to backfire. Sure, maybe they’d make some half-ass attempt to trace the call from Anonymous, but that could take weeks. And that was assuming they even believed Noah in the first place.
And then what? Even if the police figured out who’d made that call, it didn’t mean they were going to start an investigation. Especially now that my email had been printed in the City Herald. The cops would blow it off as a prank call from someone who’d been following the case and decided to try to scare me.
No.
The police and the DA had already decided who killed Katie. This trial was going to be high profile, and they wanted to win.
Suddenly, I was scared. It had been a mistake, sending that email to Ryan Ramos. I’d been foolish, and it had cost me. But it was done. There was nothing I could do about it now. And if Noah did this, if he contacted the police in a misguided effort to protect me, it would make things worse.
We had a chance to keep him out of jail, no matter how slim and dangerous that chance might be.
We needed to take it.
&
nbsp; “I’ll lie,” I said.
“What?”
“I’ll lie. I’ll refuse to turn over my phone, I’ll say you’re making it all up.”
His eyes widened in outrage. “Charlotte. This is not up for discussion.”
“I’m not trying to discuss it,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Go ahead. Do what you want. They’re going to think you’re making it up. They might even charge you with obstruction of justice or interfering with an investigation.” It was a stupid threat. They wouldn’t charge him with obstruction or interference. But they would think he was crazy. They would use whatever he said against him. The last thing he should be doing right now was talking to the police, and he knew it.
He hung up the phone.
He looked at me, our eyes meeting across the living room.
It was a stalemate.
He wanted to protect me.
And I wanted to be protected by him.
But I also refused to lose him.
This might be his one chance at salvation, and I would do anything to bring it to fruition.
“Noah…” I started, but he gave me a slight shake of his head, warning me not to speak. So I stayed quiet while he mulled the situation over in his head.
He crossed the room to me, until our chests were almost touching. He put his hands on my shoulders and slid his hands down my arms before intertwining his fingers with mine. “I cannot let you do this.”
“You’re not letting me do anything.”
“I explained the rules, Charlotte. I will have complete control of your body and your well-being. You are not to make a move without my permission.” His tone was measured, even, but he was a man that had been pushed to the brink, and I could feel his need for control still simmering below the surface. He needed my surrender, and if he didn’t get it… well, then there would be consequences. I was starting to realize that his was how he dealt with anything – fear, sadness, lust, anxiety – that left him unsettled.
“You said we could try it my way,” I said gently. “You said we could do this.” I squeezed his hands in mine and he closed his eyes. I saw the pain pass over his face, the agony that tortured him when he thought of me being in danger.
“That was before I knew some mad man wanted to kill you.” He took one of his hands from mine and pushed my hair back from my face, his thumb skating over my temple.
“Do you understand,” I said, “how much it would kill me to lose you? What will happen to me if you go to jail, Noah? What will I… how will I…” I felt myself getting choked up, and I struggled to keep myself calm.
“I’m not going to jail.”
“You keep saying that. But you don’t know, Noah. No one knows. We have to do this on our own.”
His eyes searched mine, exploring, probing for any weakness, any sign that I would change my mind. But I kept my fear for my own safety tamped down, struggling not to show him how scared I was. It was torturous, trying to have that kind of self-control over my emotions, and I wondered if this was how his damaged mind felt all the time.
It made me feel like I finally understood a small part of him.
I didn’t want to think about how hard I’d had to work for just that tiny little piece.
So instead I leaned into him.
“You need to take me to Force tonight,” I said softly. He recoiled, but I kept talking before he could protest. “Please, Noah. It’s the only way. He’s after me no matter what. At least this way, we have a chance of stopping him.”
His hands tightened on mine, his fingers gripping me so hard it hurt. But I didn’t pull away. I stayed strong.
“And you won’t be able to protect me if you’re locked up.”
He shook his head, but it wasn’t that he was saying no – it was more in wonder, like he couldn’t believe the situation we were in, couldn’t believe the choices he’d been presented with.
I wanted to tell him I loved him, wanted to tell him if I lost him it would destroy me, that there was no other man I could imagine being with, ever. I’d already fallen for him and I’d barely scratched the surface in getting to know him, in the two of us exploring each other, pushing our limits, becoming entwined.
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice soft. His hand moved back to my face, his thumb trailing over my jaw.
“Say yes,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes for a long moment.
And when he opened them, there was nothing there but steely determination. “Yes.”
***
He wouldn’t allow me to go to class.
Instead, he demanded I accompany him to the office.
“You do realize my education is important,” I said as we stepped out of the car in front of his building.
The sun was high in the sky, and I titled my chin up, letting the warm rays kiss my skin. Being out on the streets of New York instead of stuck inside my tiny apartment was inexplicably soothing. Being outside should have made me feel more exposed, more vulnerable, but it was having the opposite effect. Out here, with all the people and activity and sunshine, I somehow felt like no one could hurt me.
“We’re going to have to do something about this arrangement,” I said.
“What arrangement?”
“The arrangement where you don’t let me go to school.” We were walking through the lobby now, and Noah breezed through security with a curt nod at the guard. I followed him to the elevator bank and he pushed the button for his floor.
“You agreed I was in charge of you.”
“And you agreed to let me go to school.”
“Rules are fluid, Charlotte, constantly changing to fit specific situations.” He glanced over at me. I was still wearing his sweater, and I pulled at it self-consciously. He looked as gorgeous as ever, his dark suit still impeccable, his hair mussed in that just-had-sex kind of way that made him irresistibly sexy. His perfection was extremely intimidating. “You’ll feel better once you sign something.”
“Once I sign something?”
“Yes, Charlotte, once you sign a contract agreeing to be mine.”
“I already signed a contract,” I grumbled, thinking of the one he’d torn up in Force that night.
He glanced over at me. “Don’t push me, Charlotte. It’s been a long morning, and I am barely hanging on to my anger.”
I swallowed, stepping out of the elevator and following him down the hall and past the receptionist desk.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cutler,” the receptionist said pleasantly as we passed. It was a different girl than the one who’d been there before. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her makeup perfectly applied. She was wearing a grey suit with a cream-colored shell that dipped down a bit in the front, exposing an eyeful of cleavage.
“Good afternoon,” Noah said back.
The receptionist didn’t acknowledge me. But I saw the puppy dog eyes she gave Noah, the look of longing on her face as he walked past.
I suddenly felt overgrown and gargantuan, becoming self-conscious in my oversized sweater and jeans.
“She’s cute,” I said irritably.
“Who?”
“Who? Don’t act like you didn’t hire her because she’s gorgeous, Noah.”
“Are you talking about Dylan?”
“Dylan? That’s her name? How adorable.”
“Charlotte, there is no need to be jealous of the receptionist.”
“Couldn’t you have hired someone a little older? Like a retired grandmother or something?”
We stepped into his office and he set his briefcase down on his desk. “I’m not in charge of hiring anyone, Charlotte. Human resources is.”
“But they know what you like.”
“They know I like smart, intelligent, capable employees.”
“Who are nice to look at.”
“The only one I’m looking at is you.”
I flushed and nodded. I hated that even with everything that was going on, I could still be so easily thrown off balance by
another woman. I wanted to ask Noah what happened to the other receptionist, the one he had before her, but I didn’t want to pry.
“What happened to the other one?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“The other one what?” Noah asked, distracted. He was already in work mode, his hands on his laptop as he scrolled through his emails.
“The other receptionist.”
“She didn’t work out.”
His tone made it clear the subject was closed.
I didn’t like not having a definitive answer, especially after what had happened to Katie, but I wasn’t going to push him. I’d pushed my luck so much this morning that a receptionist wasn’t important enough to risk Noah’s wrath.
But I hated that he would keep things from me, even something as silly as why he’d fired a receptionist. Or had she quit? That was the problem. I would never know, and if I asked him again, he would accuse me of not trusting him.
But you don’t trust him.
But the crazy thing was, I did trust him.
Didn’t I?
My mind felt like it was on a constant merry-go-round, swinging in circles, faster and faster, everything blazing by in a smudge of confusion. I just didn’t understand why Noah couldn’t tell me something as simple as why his receptionist wasn’t working there anymore. Was there something he was hiding from me, or was he really just so shut off that everything needed to be pried from him?
I wanted more. I needed more.
“Charlotte, don’t you have work to do?” he barked at me. “All this talk and worry about missing class, surely you have some reading to catch up on.”
“Oh, um, yes,” I said. I pulled out my iPad and checked my syllabus for the day’s reading. I would need to get the notes from someone. Cora, perhaps.
I started to read, but it felt odd sitting right in front of Noah’s desk like we were in some kind of meeting. So I took my iPad and moved to the sofa on the other side of the room.
“I don’t like you so far away,” Noah growled.
“I’m only on the other side of the room.”
He sighed but turned back to his computer, evidently deciding to allow it.