“Who was Gavin?” she asked softly.
I should have put up more of a fight. I should have told her to go away.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I walked over to the sofa and sat down, staring at my hands that were clasped in front of me. Before I knew it, she was sitting beside me quietly and listening intently as I pretty much bared my soul to her.
“Gavin was… my best friend. He was this amazing guy—the kind of guy who was always there for you and would do anything for you.” I raked a hand through my hair. “He had the knack of looking at you and seeing you for who you really were and not… not the way everyone else did.”
“He sounds like a great guy,” she said quietly.
I nodded. “He was. I met him in basic training. He had joined the Marines willingly, and I sort of went as a last resort. A way to escape.”
“Escape what?”
“My life.” I looked over at her, and her expression hadn’t really changed much. She seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying. I shrugged. “My father was the town drunk, and my mother died when I was eight. We were piss-poor, and I did what I had to do in order to survive.” I was expecting to shock her, but still she didn’t react. “I’ve stolen food, clothes, money… cars. I was into drugs while I was in high school and did my best to stay away from home. I would sometimes sleep in the alley rather than go home.”
“Why?”
“Because I was the old man’s punching bag when I was there. I wasn’t always this big. And I used to be afraid to fight back.” I gave a mirthless laugh. “I was lucky that I sort of had an overnight growth spurt. I came home one day, and the sight of me kind of took him by surprise. He punched… and I punched back.”
“What did he do?”
I met her gaze and held it. “He pulled a knife on me.”
“Oh my God!”
“Yeah, he pretty much was completely out of his mind—the alcohol always made him mean. He had the knife at my throat and was telling me what a worthless piece of shit I was.” I shrugged again. “It wasn’t new information, and he wasn’t the only person in town with that opinion of me. He went on and on about what a disappointment I was, and all the while, he kept pressing the knife into my skin.”
“What did you do?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.
“He may have had the knife, but his reflexes were shit. He was so busy ranting and raving and listening to the sound of his own voice that he was taken by surprise when I moved. I swung my arm out and had him on the ground with the blade at his throat. I beat him until he was unconscious.”
“What happened to him?”
“At the time? I have no idea. I took the knife and all the booze in the house—along with the few belongings I had—and left.” I straightened and took a deep breath. “I walked thirty miles to the next county and enlisted. I heard he died a year later.”
“Oh, Cole… That’s horrible.”
“Why? He was a drunk. A bully. A bastard. You know how he died? He was walking the streets, drunk as a skunk, and wandered onto the train tracks. He probably never saw the damn thing coming.”
Evangeline gasped.
I stood. “Believe me, no one misses him, and the world is a better place without him.”
She sat silently for a long minute. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What did you do when you found out he’d died?”
“Not a thing. The military made sure I was notified, but I was deployed overseas. There was nothing to go home for or to do.”
“Did you go back after you were discharged?”
I nodded.
“But… why?”
“I had no place else to go. I found out the house was left to me, so I planned on just going back and cleaning up whatever mess the old man’d left behind and leave. It wasn’t that simple because… well, I was injured and…”
“What happened to you?”
I explained to her about the explosion that had killed Gavin, my voice devoid of emotion. “Half my body was ripped apart from flying shrapnel and debris. I had broken bones. I was fairly mobile by the time I was released from the hospital, but I was far from healed. I thought I’d make a quiet reentry back into civilian life. I’d seen stories of guys like me getting a hero’s welcome when they came home. Not me. All I got was a bunch of judgmental old bitches who couldn’t wait to remind me of my past.”
“That’s not fair!” she cried.
“Yeah, I know. But it is what it is. Closed-minded people rarely change. I couldn’t help my circumstances when I was a kid. Maybe if someone had bothered to pay attention to the fact that my mother was dead and my father was beating me, I wouldn’t have had to steal. I might not have gotten involved with drugs. But instead, they all wanted to act as if I was just being rebellious for the sake of rebelling.”
“I’m so sorry… I… I can’t even imagine how that must make you feel.” She reached out and took one of my hands in hers. Her skin was so soft, and when she looked up at me, her eyes were huge and filled with tears.
“Don’t…” I began almost angrily. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s over. I’ve moved on.”
“Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it. It seems like you’re punishing everyone for the actions of a few people.”
I tried to pull my hand away, but she held on. “I’m not a moron. I can see how people look at me.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“How do you see me, princess? The first time you looked at me, you looked your pretty little nose down at me. You looked disgusted, repulsed.”
“That’s not fair. You didn’t give me a chance to react at all before you came out fighting. If you don’t give people a chance to know you and only show them this harsh side of you, then of course they’re going to look at you with disgust.”
“Yeah. That’s a good theory.”
She looked down, and then up, and her expression had changed, as if she wasn’t quite as real as she’d been the minute before. “I know this may seem like a weird question but… would you mind if I asked you some more questions about your upbringing? You know, for my character in the movie?”
If she had kicked me in the gut, it would have been less of a shock. Here I was telling her my life story and believing she’s actually interested—interested in getting to know me—and it was all for the sake of her role in a movie?
Unable to control myself, I reached out and hauled her to her feet. Her body slammed against mine, and I got a perverse thrill from watching her wince in pain. “As a matter of fact, I do mind. Do you think this is a fucking joke? That what I just told you was for your entertainment?”
“What? No!” she cried. “I just… I thought…”
I shoved her away with disgust.
“We’re done here,” I muttered and walked away, not stopping until I had stormed out of the suite and slammed the door behind me.
***
By the following Friday I was ready to pull my hair out of my head.
Things had been quiet on the set—no more dead rodents or letters had arrived. I felt like a damn rent-a-cop with nothing better to do than stand around and wait.
And watch.
As much as I hated to admit it, Evangeline had some serious talent. The woman who I had essentially manhandled the previous weekend had managed to seriously impress me. She wasn’t quite the diva I had originally imagined. She showed up on the set each morning without a stitch of makeup on and still managed to look beautiful.
Then she’d walk around—always with either myself or Malcolm close by—and take direction and do her scenes, and I have to tell you, some of this shit was brutal. This wasn’t a glamorous role for her, and she didn’t seem intimidated at all by the fact that her looks were being played down.
Maybe I had been quick to judge.
Maybe.
“She really is something, isn’t she?” a quiet voice said from beside me.
I t
urned and saw the mousy chick, Janelle, and some guy standing next to me. I hadn’t seen him before. “Hey,” I said. “I’m Cole. And you are?”
“Oh, I’m Matt. Janelle and I work together. I was out with the flu for a couple of days, and today’s my first day back. You’re the security guy, right?”
He was the male version of Janelle. Kind of geeky, kind of mousy. The kind of guy who would blend into the background. Hmm…
“It’s good to meet you, Matt,” I forced myself to say. “Just know that Malcolm and I are working hard to make sure Evangeline’s safe. We’ll be checking on everything you bring to her on the set.”
The kid nodded and then went back to watching the scene that was being shot. And when I turned to do the same, I could understand why the two of them were so mesmerized. Evangeline had a lot of dialogue in this scene, and the sound of her voice was actually kind of nice.
We hadn’t talked much since I stormed out of her place last weekend. The only time we did was when we were forced to and I needed to ask about her schedule or about anything or anyone that seemed out of place.
She answered in one word most of the time.
Yeah, I’d screwed up. I handled the situation like a jackass, but in my own defense, she seriously pissed me off.
Not that it was anything new, but I knew I was going to catch shit for it the next time she talked to Sebastian.
And that was another thing that had me on edge this week. I’d called in for the conference call and basically, sometime in the near future, we were all going to be called to DC to wrap up the report.
The conversation was oddly quiet. Levi talked but seemed distracted, and none of us had much to say. I knew why— They all blamed me. What else was there to say? We were going to go listen to some official reading of a report, and although no charges were likely to be filed, it was going to be out there—voiced loud and clear—my poor judgment cost Gavin his life.
Like I needed anyone to tell that to me.
I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost seven. The shooting was going late today, but according to the schedule I was given, they were expected to finish up around nine. They had some scenes in the alley that required being shot at night. After that, Evangeline wasn’t going to be needed on the set for about four days.
Only… no one else knew that. I had talked to Pete, the director, and a fake schedule had been handed out to the rest of the cast and crew. We were going to try to see if we could catch anyone off guard. So Malcolm and his guys were going to come here and follow the same routine they had every day since filming began, and I was taking Evangeline out of town for a few days.
The plan was to secretly whisk her away but keep a decoy car and crew hanging out here to keep an eye on things.
With any luck, our stalker would make a move. Or a mistake.
And I’d be able to wrap this case up by the end of next week.
Five
Evangeline
Things were better when I was actually on set.
At least then I had plenty to distract me from Cole and his constant, brooding presence.
But yesterday evening, after I’d finished on set, we left Baltimore to go to an upscale DC hotel that guaranteed absolute privacy—a kind of makeshift safe house we could stay in for the next few days, when I wasn’t needed on set. Cole had some sort of plan to entrap the stalker to reveal himself by giving the cast and crew a false schedule for me. He thought it would be an efficient way to catch the guy quickly so this whole ordeal wouldn’t have to drag on.
I was pretty sure he was just as anxious about getting this job done so he could be rid of me as I was excited to be rid of him.
It was very stressful to have him hanging around all the time—since he consumed my whole mind, especially when I was off set and had nothing else to do.
I was pretty sure the next few days were going to be hellish for both of us.
I slept in later than normal the next morning after we had arrived at the hotel suite, because I spent most of the night tossing and turning and thinking in turn about the stalker and Cole. It was almost ten by the time I came out of the bedroom.
I wasn’t surprised to see that Cole was there, awake, sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and doing something on his phone.
He glanced up, and his gray eyes went briefly hot when he saw me.
At least that was what I thought his expression meant as his eyes ran up and down my body. I was wearing a camisole and little knit shorts—which is what I’d slept in—and I hadn’t bothered to brush my hair or wash my face.
I felt a little jump of excitement at the idea that he was attracted to me. Sure, it wasn’t that unusual—since I had a pretty good body and I had a kind of sex-kitten thing going with my public persona. And Cole was obviously a normal man who was likely to appreciate a somewhat decent female body. But I couldn’t help but feel like he was too cool and competent to let himself react to any attraction he felt for me unless he was very attracted.
And I liked the idea of his being very attracted to me since I was more attracted to the arrogant ass every day.
“Good morning,” I said, managing not to leer at him, despite how sexy and masculine he looked in his T-shirt, which set off his tight shoulders, and his jeans, which looked great on his long legs and tight butt.
“Morning.”
We’d been pretty cool with each other for the past week, ever since he was such a jerk after I’d asked him about his background. We were occasionally snippy, but mostly we just circled each other, feigning politeness with absolutely no warmth.
I was used to getting along with most people, so the tension was very uncomfortable for me.
I went to the coffeepot and reminded myself that this would be over soon. Hopefully, Cole’s plan would work so the whole thing would be done by the end of the week.
“How did you sleep?” The mild question wasn’t friendly in any way, but it felt like a peace offering, just the same.
“Not too well,” I said, watching the coffee stream into my mug. “What about you?”
He didn’t answer, so I glanced back over my shoulder. He was giving a half shrug.
“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, as it occurred to me that I’d never seen him sleep—or even seen him go into a bedroom for the night.
I was still looking back at him, so I saw the second half shrug.
“You can’t stay awake all the time,” I said, sipping my coffee and watching his controlled face.
“I sleep when I need to. I’ve gotten used to going without.”
“It can’t be good for you though.”
“I do a lot of things that aren’t good for me.”
I could well believe that. He was in great shape, but I was sure it was because he was so active and not because he took really good care of himself. He seemed more like the kind of guy who lived hard and whose body had hardened accordingly.
“But still—” I began.
“You were just telling me you didn’t get much sleep, so you’re hardly a model of healthy living.”
As always, his dry tone only served to rile me up. “Well, these are unusual circumstances for me. I went to bed at a reasonable time, but everything going on makes me too nervous to sleep. I usually get plenty of sleep. And I try to eat mostly healthy, and I do yoga, and I don’t binge drink or anything. I guarantee I’m healthier than you.”
There was no good reason for me to feel so defensive, except it always felt like he was judging and attacking me.
“Yeah, right. Getting so high you dance half-naked on a table in a nightclub is healthy.”
I stiffened, realizing he’d seen that notorious video of me from when I’d been nineteen.
I hated that video—taken on someone’s phone—and I’d never be able to live it down.
I’d gone a little wild that year, trying to shake my child star reputation. I’d done some stupid things. But that video made it look a lot worse tha
n it really was, and it had been shown all over the news and internet.
I controlled my reaction—made up of anger and something like betrayal—and narrowed my eyes at him. “It was one night. It happened to be documented. Are you really going to tell me you’ve never had a night that would look just as bad if it had been caught on camera?”
He met my eyes for a minute, and there was momentarily something like understanding in his gaze. Then he glanced away and muttered, “I’ve had hundreds of those nights.”
The words actually made me feel better.
How we’d gotten into this conversation, I didn’t know. We’d just been talking about how we’d slept the night before. But it was the best conversation we’d had in a week. He felt like a human again—and not some cold, sexy stranger.
I let out a breath. “Everyone has.”
He turned his head to meet my gaze again, as if in response to the softness in my tone. Our backgrounds might have been light-years apart, but we still understood each other. Knew each other somehow. Were similar in ways neither one of us could have predicted.
“Not everyone,” he said in a different tone, with almost a smile on his mobile mouth. “You should meet my buddy’s girlfriend, Kristin. I don’t think she’s had a wild night in her life.”
I laughed. “Maybe she’s had nights you don’t know about.”
“Maybe. But I doubt it.”
“Don’t you like her?”
“Sure. She’s great. I’m just not sure what she sees in Declan since he had nothing but wild nights until he met her.”
“Well, love changes people. And sometimes we’re drawn to people who are completely opposite from us.” I’d come over to sit on a stool beside him as we talked, but I flushed a little as I realized what I’d just said.
It was true. It was absolutely true—since Cole was as different from me as possible, and I was ridiculously drawn to him—but I didn’t mean to say it. What if he thought I was talking about us?
Protecting the Movie Star (The Protectors Book 4) Page 6