“I know that,” I say, touching his arm. “I’m just… mortified. I’ve never told anyone.”
“You mean no one else knows?” he asks, suddenly angry and concerned.
“Well, my mom knew. She finally left him, and we moved away, but… something happened at work and all the memories I thought I’d blocked came flooding back. Since then, it’s like I opened the gates of hell.”
“Does it have to do with the guy you beat up? Is it why you were suspended?”
“Yeah.” I feel like I want to puke. “Can we not talk about this anymore? Can we pretend it never happened?”
“Yes, we can stop talking about it, but no, we can’t forget it. I’m glad I know. It explains so many things about you.”
“Great!” I say rolling my eyes as I push away from his bar. I turn to his bed. The reason I’m in his room comes flooding back and I realize I still owe him an explanation. “Crap.”
“I see you remembered where you are. Care to explain why you’re here?”
“Are you going to yell?”
His expression softens. “At you? No. I don’t think I ever want to yell at you again. I can’t promise I won’t get mad, but I will try to control myself. I don’t ever want to scare you.”
“Please. You don’t scare me in the least.”
His brief smile fades into a scowl. “Well, in that case, what the fuck, Reed?”
Grinding my teeth, I decide to go with the truth. “From the moment I walked into this house and was told I couldn’t go into the west wing, it’s all I could think about. I wanted to see it. I’m an information addict. I like to know everything. Plus, I’m a detective. Figuring out puzzles is in my blood. That day you took off like a bat out of hell up the stairs told me you were hiding something. Your explanation didn’t fit, and you looked up and to the right when you spoke, so I knew you were lying. Plus, there are all these secret stairways.”
He sighs and shakes his head.
“And then there’s all this hush-hush stuff about Natalie—”
“What did you say?” he asks, gliding toward me anxiously.
“Natalie. I keep hearing her name, yet I’ve never met her. Who is she and why is she never around?”
“Who said her name? Where did you hear it?”
“I heard one of the cooks say something about her not liking the way the apples were pureed. Then I fell asleep one night in the dining hall and I heard her talking.”
Roman shifts his balance from one foot to the other and tightens his hands into fists before he forcibly loosens them. His turns away and his posture goes rigid. My gut tells me there’s definitely something big here.
“What’s going on, Roman?”
“Who else knows about her? Who did you tell?” he asks, panicked.
“No one. I haven’t said anything to anyone about her. Who is she?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just please stop asking so many questions.” He scrubs his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t worry about it? Telling me not to worry makes me worry even more. Are you in some kind of trouble?” I ask, reaching out to him.
“No! No trouble. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I jerk back in surprise. “Well, I guess my nosey nose can sniff out lies better than most people. What is it you don’t want me to know?”
“Dammit, Reed, back off. I’m telling you, just back off!”
“What are you hiding, Roman? Is she some kind of personal sex slave or something?” I half laugh, half worry. He sighs and gazes at the floor. “Is that what this is? Is she your girlfriend?”
“No. Of course not,” he says.
He won’t look at me and I think I’ve touched a nerve. “Oh fuck, she is your girlfriend!”
“No.”
“Lover?”
“No! Reed… come on. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I? I read about you online before I came to the show. They say you’re a player, a man-whore, and a user.”
“Yeah, well, they say a lot of things about me that aren’t true.” He sits down on the corner of the bed.
His jaw shifts as if he’s irritated and something clicks in my head. I feel sick. “You picked me, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You saw I was weak and you went in for the kill.” I close my eyes. “You’re good, really good. I’ll give you that. You almost had me fooled. This is all part of the game. Are there cameras here too?”
He stands and crosses the room to me. “Reed, I promise you, this thing with us isn’t a game. Can you trust and believe in me?” He lifts his hand to touch my face and I pull away.
“Tell me who she is to you.”
“I can’t. You don’t understand. I’m a private person. I don’t share stuff about myself easily, if at all.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Do you think it was easy for me to tell you my father used to beat me? I’ve never told anyone that, Roman. You made me feel like I—”
“Like you what?” he asks sincerely.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. The fact is I’m not going to be a side girl. I’m not like your other floozies. I don’t fuck for fun. I thought there was something here,” I say, pointing back and forth between us. “But I guess I’m simply another notch on your belt. Are you trying to get in Kari’s pants too? How about Tori?”
“Dammit, Reed! Is that what you really think about me?
I glance around, trying to figure out how I’m going to get back downstairs.
“You want to leave, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“When things get tough you run. Good to know.”
“Fuck you, Roman. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I guess I don’t.”
He points at the hall. “Go out the way you came. The doors don’t lock from this side.”
I turn to leave, and he reaches out and touches my arm. I spin, hoping he’ll say something to stop me.
“I want my keys.”
I take them out of my pocket and throw them across the room. “I wish I’d never met you.”
I open the door and do my best not to punch my hand through the wall as I stomp down the stairs and out the closet door. The guard stands. “Hey!”
I glance at him as he presses a hand to his ear. He nods to me and sits back down.
I guess that’s that. It’s over before it even started.
Leaning my head against the window, I watch the rain bouncing off the rooftop. It’s been dry for weeks. It’s fitting that the sun went away, and the sky is dark and gray. It’s like my life. I fucked things up and I don’t know how to make them right.
Dawson opens the door. “Clark is coming up. Want me to tell him you’re busy?”
I shake my head.
“Say the word and I’ll send them all home.”
“No. I need to finish what I started.”
“It’s going to be all right.”
“Is it?”
There’s a knock on the door. Dawson opens it, and Clark cheerfully enters the room.
“Let me take a look at you! Turn so I can see.”
I roll to face him, keeping my head against the window as if it’s glued in place.
“Now that’s one fine looking tux! You look like a million bucks. You’re going to break some hearts tonight.”
I roll back around to gaze out the window, never lifting my head.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned.
I don’t answer. I don’t want to talk.
“Dawson, what happened? Is this about the threat and the stalker getting out? Is he okay? I’ve never seen him like this.”
“I can hear you,” I announce in an irritated tone.
“Then answer me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing other than my fucked up regular life.”
“He’s fine. He’ll make his gra
nd entrance in a few minutes. Roman is just mentally reviewing his lines. He’s extremely focused and I think it would be best to let leave him be,” Dawson advises. I pray Clark listens.
“Um, yeah. Okay. You sure?”
“Positive,” Dawson replies.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Clark. Will do.”
I let out a deep sigh when the door closes. “Thanks.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
“I don’t think I’ve said it enough.” I straighten my tie and walk to the door, supposing it’s time for the show. “Ready?”
His mouth twists.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Dawson, I’ve known you forever and I can tell when you have something to say. Just say it.”
“It’s not my place.”
I tilt my head. “You are one of the few people in this world whose opinion actually matters to me. If you have something to say, I want to hear it.”
“Remember you asked for it. I wanted to tell you it doesn’t need to be this way. This burden you’re carrying doesn’t have to be carried alone. I bet there are a lot of people who would surprise you with their level of understanding if you gave them the chance. If you told them the truth.”
“I tried being honest once and look where it got me.”
He places his hand on my shoulder. “You were honest, but with the wrong girl at the wrong time. You’re used to being disappointed because you don’t give people the chance to prove you wrong. If you don’t trust her, then ask her to sign a confidentiality agreement. Hell, I’ll ask her. You’re a good man. People don’t even know the half of who you are. Let her see the real you. If she walks away, then she was never right to begin with. But if you let her walk away without giving her a chance, the only one you’ll end up disappointing is yourself.”
“Damn. You been holding that in all this time?”
“Sometimes I have deep thoughts.”
I pat him on the back, then button the bottom button of my tuxedo and straighten my tie. “Let’s go get me a stalker.”
“Not funny.”
“It’ll be fine. I can feel it.” I lie. This whole day feels off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your principal, Roman Creed.”
I step out into the hall at the top of the stairs, as instructed. The contestants are gathered at the bottom and they all gaze upward, waiting for me. I immediately scan them for a blonde ponytail and stop dead in my tracks when I see her.
Her long hair is down around her shoulders and her lips are bright red. She’s wearing a black sequined cocktail dress that hits mid-thigh and black heels. I thought she was beautiful before but holy shit, I can’t breathe. I try to swallow and choke on my own spit.
“And cut!” Esto yells. “You okay?” he asks as he runs up the stairs to greet me.
I nod, coughing. “Yeah. Give me a sec.”
“We’ll take it from the top. That’s the beauty of recorded television.”
I need to get my shit together. Gazing at Dawson, I blow air out and relax my shoulders, shaking out my arms and legs. “I made a decision,” I tell him. “I’ll be taking that chance.”
“Glad to hear it.”
I turn around and get ready for my entrance. I’m back and ready to kick some ass. I’m also ready to prove to a certain girl that I’m worth it.
Bryce starts again. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your principal, Roman Creed.”
Smiling, I make my entrance. “Good evening. There’s a reason we’ve assembled you in the main hall versus the forum. Tonight we’re doing something a little bit different. In this challenge, I have assembled a room full of music executives, rising stars, and fellow musicians. But someone has it out for me. Someone is plotting my demise.”
I take two steps down the stairs and lean on the railing, gazing over at Reed. As soon as we make eye contact, she looks away. Damn, that woman drives me wild.
“As an EPO your job is to mix in with the crowd. In some cases, I may not want my bodyguard to stand out, but I want him or her there, always watching, always waiting. Your job is to watch for suspicious behavior and intervene when necessary. At the end of the night, we’ll want to hear your observations. The person who made the best observations or took the most evasive actions will be the winner.”
I turn and look directly in her eyes. “Reed, you have immunity for this challenge and cannot be eliminated. However, I suggest you perform to your highest potential because a fatal flaw could land anyone in a car headed home.”
She forces a half smile at me and I almost laugh out loud. She doesn’t know I’m about to lay it all on the line. Hopefully this will prove to her how much I care.
“This will be the final challenge offering immunity. After tonight, there will be no winners, only losers. Don’t let your guard down.”
“Thank you, Roman.” Now we’ll hear from our protection expert, Jean Paul Beck, with some tips for our contestants.”
Jean Paul saunters out from the other side of the hall and steps down so he’s on the same level as I am. He’s wearing a suit, like the rest of the EPOs. Only the guests will be in tuxedos.
“We’ve spent a lot of time discussing the basics of being an EPO, but we haven’t discussed exactly what type of behavior would call someone into question. You should watch out for individuals who appear nervous or are fidgeting. Most fans are nervous or excited about meeting a star, but I’m talking about extreme, abnormal behavior. Is the person overly dressed in an attempt to conceal a weapon? Do they fail to react to events around them because they’re focused on their impending task? Is there an abnormal bulge in their pants or pocket? Perhaps they walk with a slight limp or their stride fluctuates, indicating they’re wearing an ankle holster or carrying a knife.”
He walks down two more steps. I do my best to not make eye contact with Reed. She still has a shot of winning this thing and I don’t want to get in her way.
“Your job is to protect Roman without embarrassing him. If you notice something is off, ask to speak to him in private. But if his life is in danger, don’t hesitate. React. An overreaction only lasts a moment, but a regret lasts a lifetime. You have each been fitted with an earpiece and microphone so you can talk to each other. Another part of this challenge is how well you keep your team posted on Roman’s whereabouts. Communication among EPOs is key to your principal’s safety.”
“Thank you, Jean Paul,” Bryce says. “Contestants, you may speak with the guests as needed and if they ask you who you are, you may tell them you’re an EPO and who you are guarding. Eat, have a drink if you choose and watch carefully. One thing we want to stress to you is that these guests are trained actors. Any and all events that occur tonight are not real. Roman is in no real danger and any perceived threats are simply part of the challenge. You should definitely pretend they are real. The guests are prepared to be tackled, restrained, and questioned, like in real life. But please know, Roman is playing along and all movements and actions have been rehearsed and assigned. There will be a fake threat to Roman tonight. Your job is to act like it’s real and keep him safe.”
Bryce walks over to the doors and stands in front of them. “Roman?”
I stride down the stairs and traverse an aisle the contestants have made for me. They’re dressed to the nines. In a real situation, they wouldn’t need to be so glamorous. Just professional. But this is TV and on TV, everyone looks pretty.
I can tell they’re all on edge. To be honest, I am too, even though I know exactly what’s about to happen. Dawson has already handed off the gun.
As I pass Reed, I take a closer look. My breath hitches. I can tell she has no idea how beautiful she is. To me, that makes her even more spectacular.
Everything will change tonight. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to make this right. No matter what I have to do.
I stare at the back of his head as we wait for the crew to set up
. I’m extremely uncomfortable. It’s not the dress or the heels. It’s not even that the asshole is standing right in front of me. It’s my hair. I’m not used to wearing it down. I don’t even sleep with it down. It makes me feel vulnerable and after all that’s happened today, I need to feel more like the strong cop I am.
The makeup department insisted on doing my hair and face. Jen said it was important for the viewing audience to see another side of me. The expression on Roman’s face when he saw me made me consider doing it every day.
I’m extremely close to him. If I wanted to, I could grab his ass, and no one would see. If we were still a possibility, I might have considered it. But that’s over now. He does look divine in his tux. It’s like second skin. It fits him snugly in all the right places, and he smells like sex on a stick. Damn it, Reed, stop!
Damn him for ruining this. I hate him right now for being a lying snake. I’m back to my original goal of winning the money and dropping the job. I need to stop staring at him unless it’s for the game. It will be the only reason I look at him from now on.
After all, he’s got Natalie with her apples. Why does he need me? My chest aches and I push it aside.
Roman turns around and nods to the other contestants as Esto counts us down. Roman rounds his way to me and winks. No one else can see since we’re so close. I scowl, and he laughs before facing forward. Motherfucker. I kinda wish I was the one out to get him tonight. I hope he gets tackled.
“Five, four, three, two…”
The doors open. The forum has been transformed into a grand venue. The tables we usually sit at have been removed and center stage is lit in blue, like a dance floor.
Couches and bar tables are strategically placed throughout the room and there’s a large wraparound bar to the right. A buffet with extravagant displays of fruit, seafood, and cheeses has been placed at the back of the room. Large planters of flowers and greenery line the walls. A waterfall of champagne pours from a fountain and guests place their glasses under it to get their fill. Everyone is laughing and smiling. There’s too much to see.
The Core Damage logo shines on the ceiling. The walls and lights are shades of white and blue. It’s inviting.
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