Blood red hair, dark blue eyes, lips so full and pouty my first thought is that my balls will love me for this.
And God help me, I even take in the slightly askew right incisor that does nothing to detract from her beauty in the slightest. No, instead it makes me want to get closer to her because I would spend days just mapping her to find anything else that takes her perfection to an endearing level, too.
Dammit.
Shaking myself, I grab a beer and go over her information, my lips quirking when I read what she does for a living, Gino’s earlier words only penetrating now.
“It says here she’s an Elvis impersonator.”
He chuckles, and I find my lips twitching some.
“Best one in Vegas, brother. Rosie, she’s had a thing for the King since she was old enough to go potty on her own. Her nana, one of our family friends, God rest her soul, instilled a love for the classics, and this is Vegas, man. We all love the King.”
“She’s five three?”
“Only in heels if that’s what her DMV record says. She’s small, sweet, and fucking defenseless, Lex. Her nana died four years ago. Rosie, she’s a little feisty, but she’s got a heart of gold. I can’t let anything happen to her on my watch. Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want, just help me out here. I know she’ll be more than safe with you watching over her, and to be honest, I don’t trust my guys around her. She’s…”
Irresistible, I think, running a finger over the screen where her eyes stare back at me.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Rosie knocks off at around one most nights, depending on what’s happening with the other impersonators. Tonight, she did her usual routine with Lon, showered, dressed, had a beer, and then got ready to leave. Only this time she came running back in here like someone was on her ass. Terrified, Lex. I haven’t seen her that scared since her nana threatened to sell all her Elvis collectables. And it turns out…wait, let me send you the footage and you’ll see.”
I wait less than two minutes before it comes through and feel my blood chill at what I see. Whoever this is, they’re prepared, smart, and daring. I take in the minute movement when he steps away from the building, the confident shuffling swagger toward a beat-up, old Civic, and I watch in disgust when the hooded figure turns and looks right at the camera.
I can’t see the smile, but I fucking know it’s there—and that scares me for this chick. I know it wasn’t meant for her as they all probably think.
Nah, that was a “how you doin’?” to the cops, which tells me that Red was moments away from dying if she didn’t react as fast as she did to the threat. If she’d frozen and stayed in that parking structure even a minute longer instead of bolting the way she did, she’d be dead.
I know, because while I can’t see everything on the footage without cleaning it up first, I spot something that his security likely missed. A slight movement on the left corner of the screen from behind the other lone car parked there.
I also see what I know must be a gun muzzle as an arm rises. As I said, I’ll wait to clean the footage up before I mention it. Whatever the case, Red is damn lucky to be alive right now, and I have a feeling she won’t stay that way unless I go over there and kill this asshole myself.
Dammit.
“I want the Vanquish.”
“Fuuuuck man, that’s cold. You know how much I love that baby. Come on, Jacobs, have a heart.”
“Take it or leave it. I have my own shit going on here at the moment and if I have to drop everything to run your way, I’m getting what I want out of it.”
“Christ. Fine. Just get your ass down here before I lose hold of my little shit, would you? I’m warning you right off the bat, Rosie’s not exactly jazzed at the thought of being watched twenty-four seven. I had to let her go home when she threatened to set the casino on fire to force an evacuation.”
“Dammit—”
“Carl’s on her. Stop cursing; I’m not a complete fool. Just get down here quick, okay? Please. I don’t like this situation one bit, and it’s only gotten worse since I called because I have a bad feeling about this, Lex. I love Rosie. She’s like family, and I refuse to lose her to some freak that for some reason has taken a dislike to her.”
“I’ll be there by lunchtime, just keep someone on her and let them know I’m coming. I’d hate to have to kill one of yours if they come at me mistaking me for a perp.”
“Will do.”
I spend another few minutes staring at the mischievous blue eyes on the screen before slamming the laptop closed and rising with a sigh. Damn, I’ll have to forego seconds with the cutie in my bed to start packing my shit, and that’s just a damn shame. The woman is flexible as hell, and me, I love a talented woman.
Chapter Three
Rosetta
I haven’t slept worth a damn, no matter how much I tried. I gave up around five when the sun started blazing and the desert scorpions started singing.
It’s officially a shitty day. I feel drained, on edge, and slightly pissed off, as I pull myself into the kitchen and stab at the coffee maker, my head now at a slow throb as I fall into a chair at the little kitchen table and let my head drop into my hands.
I haven’t slept. I’ve said that, but what I haven’t mentioned is that I spent hours thinking and watching the little window across from my bed, expecting Hussy to hop in at any moment.
You don’t understand. You’re probably thinking I’m a fool for leaving it open and that’s why I couldn’t sleep, and I will agree with you all. But the fact is, that cat is all I have besides my little circle of friends, and she won’t come in if the window is closed.
That led to me watching the window with wide eyes, even knowing that Carl is out there somewhere and a fly couldn’t fart without him responding. Something else I had time to contemplate is my life, something I’ve been avoiding since Marie, Gio’s wife, took me to lunch last week and started in on me again.
They don’t like my choices. And, you know, I get that. My job is a dead-end street with no opportunity of advancement and nothing more to rely on than what I make and the small tips people shove into my jumpsuit.
I get that, trust me I do, and don’t assume I haven’t overthought it all till my head is spinning, but like I said, I like Elvis. He’s the last link I have left to Nana, and he’s fun. I get to perform, something I’ve always enjoyed, if only just to make others happy.
So yeah, stress, fear, and a whole lot of conflicting emotions that range from rage that someone would dare come after me to utter terror that some idiot wants to murder me in possibly the most painful way he can think of.
And to top it all off, I can’t go to my classes until Gino deems it safe, which leaves me at a disadvantage at the current moment because I’m the kind of woman who has to stay busy at all times, or else I start thinking. And if Nana were alive, she’d tell you that’s a bad idea and the definite makings of a delinquent.
I can’t help it. I’ve worked since I was sixteen, starting off slinging hash at a little diner down the road before I got a job at Graceland. Idle downtime and me? Not friends at all.
The coffee machine beeps just then, and I shuffle to grab a mug before going into the bedroom and dropping the towels from my body and wet hair.
Minutes later, I’m wearing short shorts, a tank, and my Minnie Mouse slippers while a bagel toasts and my second cup of the day starts firing my synapses.
I jump at a loud tone and almost faceplant when my Minnies slide across the tile, and I grab at my phone with a curse.
“Please do not yell at me at eight in the morning.”
Gino chuckles now that he’s gotten his way about having thugs surrounding my house. My entire life has been put on hold, as I sit at home and pick my ass.
“Like I would do that to my favorite girl.”
“You hear me snorting in derision, Gi? Cause I so am right now. This from the guy who threatened to lock me in a room after I started dating Jory from the floor staff?�
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“That little shit eater was screwing half the waitresses already, Rosie baby. Call me insensitive for not wanting you to get crotch crawl.”
“Just…eww, Gi, eww. So, if my liege does not call to yell at me and bark orders, to what do I owe this unparalleled honor?” I ask, cursing when the heat from my bagel causes me to drop it onto my not so recently cleaned tiles.
Five second rule!
“Ow, dammit!”
“Still eating straight out of the toaster?”
“Breakfast of champions,” I trill, grabbing a tub of cream cheese and some ham from the fridge.
The spoon I dip into it may be gross to you, but I’ve spent years eating it out of the tub, between little bites of bagel and ham.
“So, you called?” I urge when he remains silent, making my nerves ping.
A silent, no-yelling Gino is a sneaky Gino. I should know, I spent my childhood with his teenage ass tormenting me every chance he got, and the only time I knew I was safe was when he was running his mouth.
“I called in someone, a specialist, who deals with this sort of thing—”
“One little stalker and you’re going crazy? Come on, Gi. It’s so silly.”
“You’ve said that a few times now, so I get where your head is at, okay? Just shut the hell up and listen for once, Rosie. I sent him the notes and the footage, and I hate to tell you this, but he agrees with me after just five minutes of skimming your case. This person is not a crazy fan, some dude who fell in love with you and decided to go all Norman Bates on your ass when you failed to notice him. This is someone who hates you, Rosie. Deeply hates you.”
A chill skitters down my spine at his words. I toss the half-eaten bagel back to the table, no longer hungry. The whole problem I’m having is denial, and I freely admit it, but hell, would you just jump on this band wagon and go at it full trot when there’s just a glimmer of hope that some dick decided he liked my ass and is just getting mean because I didn’t like him back?
So yeah, me, denial, still living the dream, baby.
“I do not want some stick-up-his-ass bodyguard coming into my life and making plans I’m not down with, Gino. Just, I said I’d go to the cops, and I will, okay? Today. I called Frankie earlier, and she’s coming to get me since you refused to let me take my car.”
“Because the guys were dusting it for prints outside, and I didn’t want you breaking down somewhere and making yourself an easy target. Carl’s guy also checked for explosives.”
“Explosives! Dammit, Gino, are you determined to give me the creeps?” I mutter, grimacing around my coffee cup.
“Remember that time you were convinced the Lewis impersonator was into you, and I had to prove he just wanted your spot on the floor?”
Crap. He has to bring that up right now, huh? The story goes like this: there was this Jerry Lewis wannabe, who was hired as a variety test act. Gio thought that we should broaden our scope to include other acts on the floor as entertainment.
The man used to watch me like a hawk, a lot, and he was hot, okay? I liked him and took every opportunity to throw myself his way, thinking I’d get a few good dates and maybe some sex out of the equation.
Imagine my surprise when I found out he was bad-mouthing me to anyone who’d listen, and imagine then my humiliation when Gio told me he’d approached him and asked to fill my spot once they booted me.
Rejection feels bad.
“Nice. Remind me about my one unsuccessful crush.”
“And Tony?” he asks, making my eyes close.
“He was a mistake.”
“Yeah. You hear my snort this time, kid? Pop and I warned you that that little shit was doing hookers, and you insisted on ignoring us.”
True, up to the point I walked into my house and caught him tonguing a suspicious-looking woman, who may or may not have had a sex change op. Her biceps were huge, and she spoke as if the freaking Adam’s apple in her throat should still be there even after it was shaved off.
Point being, I’m not that great at reading signs from the opposite sex. At all. I had Tony moved in here and was supporting him for a good two months before I walked in and caught him going down on that…maybe woman.
It was educational to say the least.
My point is that Gino has a valid point. Sometimes I just see the best in people, no matter how much the signs point to their being assholes. This is why I call the psychic hotline at least once a week to vet people.
“I get it. I still don’t think all this is necessary, and honestly, Gi, I don’t want you and Gio paying for someone to watch me. I can’t afford to pay you back.”
Not even if I prostitute myself at this point. I may own Nana’s house outright, but I know that’s only because she let Gio buy it for her when she got so sick, thinking I’d be better off without a mortgage once she was gone.
“Too bad. It’s this, or you move in with me, baby.”
“Snorting here. Loudly. The last time I stayed over at your place you came to the dinner table nude and asked me if I was into hard or slow. No thanks, man whore.”
“You know you wanted a taste of this. Just think, Rosie, our babies would be beautiful.”
“Criminally. But that is not the point, pervert. You’re like my brother.”
“You say that, but you haven’t had me eat you. That would change your mind fast, baby. Really fast,” he coos, making me gag.
“Whatever, pig. Just…shit, I don’t like this.”
“Get over it, or get over here and be ready for a licking.”
“Bastard,” I mutter before ending the call, my head now pounding with the implications of having some idiot follow me around like a dog on a leash.
I spend the next while tidying a little, though honestly, open any cupboard in my house and brace for the ton of junk that will come at you. By the time I’m done, it’s almost ten. I sigh my relief when I hear a knock and open the door to a smiling Frankie.
“You look like shit.”
“Gee, flatter me to death, why don’t you? Come on in. I should have called and told you it was a wasted trip. Gi texted me and let me know his guys at the station are already on my case,” I huff, letting Frankie in.
She’s been my pal since just after Nana died, and though I hate her for her beauty, the blonde, blue-eyed, little pixie is one of my besties. How can she not be? She loves Elvis, wears glasses just like Nana used to—you know, those dorky cat-eye frames circa the nineteen fifties—and she chews gum like she’s grinding up cud.
“That’s okay. I wanted to see you anyway to make sure you’re all right. By the way, hot security outside. Mama likie.”
“Hooker. He’s not for you. He’s got a wife he adores and three daughters.”
She follows me to the living room and falls down in Nana’s old seat, ignoring my glare, and settles in, even though she knows I hate it when people sit in that spot. The seat is my holy grail, and the one thing I have left that reminds me of Nana. For some reason, Frankie never listens, even that one time I tackled her and threatened to make her baldheaded.
“Too bad. My latest lover left when I started introducing the dildos. No sense of adventure.”
That makes me snort, loudly, and I raise a brow in mock disbelief.
“It couldn’t be that the man was averse to what you wanted to do to him with those things…”
“Shut up. I like some sadism with my sex. It keeps things hot and interesting. Speaking of sex…how’s Gino?”
“Not interested in your ass, so stop flogging that screaming mule.”
“Dead horse.”
I grin at her correction and shrug.
“Horse, mule, zebra. Equine. Same diffs. Sooo, you know about this whole issue?”
“Issue? Honey, a man threatening to kill you painfully isn’t an issue, it’s a freaking problem. You should take it seriously.”
As if. I like denial. It’s a warm, happy place to live.
“I do. I just don’t understand why people ca
n’t understand the beauty of a decently written ode is all,” I tease, watching her yes turn hard.
“From what you told me, it wasn’t that bad. But it got the point across, didn’t it? You ran last night,” she points out, making me blush and thin my lips.
“Stop judging and help me.”
“I am. I’m here to point out that your stalker- slash attempted-murderer person is more intelligent than you surmise. I’d bet on him before I’d bet on your stupid ass.”
“Gee, thanks. And here I thought you liked me.”
“Huh! As if I’d crush on an Elvis impersonator with red hair and a yen for psychics. What’s up with that lately?” she asks, making me squirm.
I adore her, I do, but sometimes when she eyes me in that no-nonsense way of hers, I feel almost as if she’s judging me and finds me lacking. That just makes me try harder to be found worthy, but still…not liking her eyeballing me right now.
“I got Soph this time. She says I’ll be riding soon. Don’t quite know what that means, but if it entails the Civic and a road trip, I am so out.”
“Huh. And yet it may not be a bad idea for you to get out of town,” she points out, lifting her feet to the coffee table.
“Never. Vegas is my place, my town. How would I sleep without the dry heat baking my lungs?”
She just snorts and keeps yakking for another hour before rising to her full height and traipsing to the door. The kiss she gives Nana’s portrait makes me grin, and I open the door with a smile, walking straight into a brick wall.
“Well hellooo there, handsome,” Frankie purrs, making me look up, up, up into a pair of eyes so starling a shade of blue that I gasp and fall into the door with a sigh.
Hot damn, I think I just wet my shorts, and no, I’m not hinting at an empty bladder here, people. I’m currently looking up at a man who is this side of shaking me right on up.
He has brown hair that I can’t really call brown. It’s streaked all the way through and sits close to his head in a style that isn’t quite military short but not long either.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 62