Black and White

by Cynthia Rayne

  “Do you now?” King glanced at Zane who smirked. “Do any of them have military experience?”

  Adam turned to the men. “Have any of you served?”

  The men shook their heads and shrugged.

  As King suspected, they were glorified roadies—burly men who’d been elevated from moving sound equipment to guarding the talent. It took more than strength to protect a potential target from an assassin.

  “We can give you a demonstration if you like?” Zane offered. “You might find it illuminatin’.”

  Adam frowned. “No, I don’t think it will be necessary.”

  “Let them show us,” Savvy said softly. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Savvy, I don’t think we need—”

  “Who’s payin’ the bill?” Savvy asked tiredly. “And, more importantly, whose life is on the line?”

  Upon closer inspection, she looked exhausted. King had been too overwhelmed by her beauty at first, to notice. Her face was pale, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

  Adam sighed. “Fine, have it your way.”

  The tension between them was palpable, and King wondered what was going on. Well, he wouldn’t get the chance to find out, if he didn’t put on a show.

  “Okay then. Give me your best shot.” He walked to the center of the room and held out his arms.

  The bodyguards didn’t approach.

  “Don’t you want your little friend to join us?” said the biggest one, a bald man in his forties with veins straining in his neck. He stepped forward.

  “Hey! Who the hell are you callin’ little?” Zane asked.

  The bald dude was the biggest threat. King was an inch or two taller, but the man weighed a bit more. And King had a good seventy pounds and several inches on the rest of them.

  King chuckled. “Nah, I can handle this one on my own.” It wouldn’t even be much of a challenge. “But you can bring your friends if you like.”

  Baldy’s buddies gathered around King, surrounding him on all sides, but it didn’t make him nervous. Baldy pulled back a fist, but King kicked him right in the nut sack.

  “Ugh,” Baldy mumbled as he went down like a sack of potatoes, holding his bruised junk with both hands.

  “Sorry, man. I wore my steel-toed boots today. That’s gotta hurt.”

  Grunting, the man stood and lunged at King, but he popped Baldy in the mouth, and he fell back to the floor.

  “Who’s next?”

  The one directly behind King wrapped him in a bear hug, but King donkey kicked him and sent the dude sprawling on his ass.

  Zane gave him a round of applause.

  King spun around to punch the one on his left. And when King lunged for the bodyguard on his right, the man backed off with his hands in the air.

  “Don’t hurt me, man!”

  It took him all of three minutes to neutralize her so-called bodyguards.

  I rest my fuckin’ case. King smirked.

  And then Savvy met King’s gaze, really seeing him for the first time. It was like being blinded by the sun, a shining moment of joy. For a moment, King was almost speechless, stunned into silence.

  “When can you start?” Savvy asked.

  “Right now.”

  Chapter 3

  Someone tried to kill me.

  Savvy couldn’t wrap her head around it. And she still hadn’t come to terms with what had happened to Gloria or what it meant.

  Time had taken on a dreamlike quality since the incident. She had only a vague recollection, as though her mind was trying to protect her from the brutal truth.

  Savvy briefly remembered being in the limo, careening around corners as they raced through the streets to her hotel. After they’d searched the venue, Scotland Yard had spoken with her band members, the remaining singers, the bodyguards, and Savvy too.

  She barely remembered the conversation.

  According to one of the inspectors, they hadn’t found any evidence at the scene—no shell casings, no fibers, no DNA, and no footprints. The eyewitnesses hadn’t seen anything either. In other words, they had nothing to go on. The inspector promised to give her a call if they caught a break in the case.

  And the next thing she knew, Savvy was on the plane headed home.

  Savvy still heard the gunfire in her head, felt the hot spray of blood on her hands and face. She kept seeing Gloria’s glassy, lifeless eyes. It was like she was stuck in a movie theater, watching a clip on an endless loop.

  Savvy had only seen one other dead body, but her grandmother had been in a casket in a funeral home. She’d been wearing makeup and one of her favorite dresses, surrounded by her friends and family. There’d been an outpouring of love and grief, and a celebration of her life.

  There was nothing respectful or dignified about the way Gloria died. She’d been murdered, hunted down like a ten-point buck in deer season.

  They were grinning, singing to one another, getting lost in the music, and then Gloria was gone. Savvy still couldn’t believe this wasn’t a nightmare. It had been two days, and she couldn’t shake this unreal feeling.

  According to Scotland Yard, that bullet had been meant for her. It should’ve gone right between her eyes. While she hadn’t pulled the trigger, the result was the same: Savvy had gotten Gloria killed.

  The guilt was crushing, and worrying she’d be next was exhausting.

  Savvy jumped at every sound. Her momma had even been trying to baby her, by making a homemade pecan pie, and she’d barely been able to eat two mouthfuls of it. Normally, she dug in and didn’t quit until she hit the bottom of the pie plate. She didn’t have an appetite, couldn’t think, and couldn’t sleep.

  It was like being chased by the Grim Reaper. What was to keep the gunman from shooting Savvy next time?

  Not a damn thing.

  Savvy hated to be so fatalistic, but she couldn’t see a way out of the situation. Not alive anyway.

  “Excuse me, Miss Summers, can we talk?”

  She glanced up to see one of the Navy SEALs staring down at her. The other one was having a conversation with her manager, probably about business matters, contracts, and fees.

  “What did you say again? Oh, right. Please have a seat.” Savvy cleared her throat, trying to bring herself back to the here and now. “I’m sorry, I’m so scattered today. Please call me Savvy. And what was your name again?”

  “Thomas King, but everyone calls me King.”

  He sat beside her. King had a foot and a half on her, and probably 100 pounds of pure muscle. She’d never seen such a large man before. King was certainly physically intimidating, and he had the combat skills to back it up.

  It should make her feel safer, but Savvy was still on edge.

  “I made a call and one of my colleagues, Storm, is following up with Scotland Yard, and he’ll get in touch with the FBI too. I’m assumin’ they got involved once you arrived in the States?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I have to ask a few questions. Do you have any enemies?”

  She shook her head. “No. I get on stage, sing my songs, and I don’t bother anybody. I’m havin’ trouble understanding all of this.” It didn’t make any sense. Who on earth would want to hurt her? She wasn’t a world leader or the head of a controversial group.

  “I know it must be overwhelmin’.” His expression was gentle, understanding. “What about a stalker?”

  Like any celebrity, Savvy had a small number of deranged fans, people who were obsessed with her. For the most part, they were harmless.

  “Yes, I’ve had a few run-ins with creeps. Talk to my manager. He can give you some names.”

  Savvy employed a small army of people to go through her fan communications—social media comments, emails, and old-fashioned snail mail. They responded to true fans and reported weirdos to the cops. She never saw any of those communications, but they kept a file, just in case. In her early days, she’d read a few and freaked out. Adam had taken over the responsib
ility, and Savvy had been grateful for the reprieve.

  “Then I’ll follow-up with him. We have a former FBI agent on the team, with a background in psychology. I’d like her to look at some of them, with your permission, of course.”

  “Sure, whatever you need to do.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Are you okay?”

  For a moment, Savvy considered lying, powering through this, but she couldn’t fake it. She just didn’t have the energy.

  “No, I haven’t been okay since Gloria died.” After the authorities had informed her family, Savvy had called them to offer her condolences. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

  “Was she a friend?”

  “No, she was an acquaintance, but I liked her.” Savvy sighed. “We’d made plans to hang out. Gloria was nice, funny, and a great singer. And she didn’t deserve this. I thought maybe we could become friends, one day.” She swallowed. “I don’t have many of those.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true.” Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. “And I can’t stop seein’ it. One moment, we were laughin’ and singin’, and the next she’s dead.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

  King’s voice lowered. “I know what you mean.”

  “You do?” She locked eyes with him.

  “Yes.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I watched someone I loved die in front of me.”

  Savvy didn’t know him very well, but whoever he’d lost, must’ve been very dear to King.

  “Then you know how guilty I feel. Gloria’s dead because of me, and I don’t think I can ever forgive myself. And yet…”

  Savvy trailed off, unable to say the words. It’s bad enough she’d had the thought.

  “You’re grateful it wasn’t you?”

  Savvy swallowed the lump in her throat. The tears flowed again, sliding down her cheeks.

  “What kind of person thinks that?”

  “It’s normal. And Gloria’s dead because a sniper shot her. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “I wish I could believe you.”

  “It’s called survivor’s guilt. I never knew the feelin’ had a name until I had a mandatory talk with the Navy shrink.”

  “Yeah? Well, it’s terrible.” King pressed a couple of tissues into her hands, and she wiped her face.

  “It will pass, eventually.” He lifted a shoulder. “Or at least you’ll get used to the feelin’, and it won’t bother you as much.”

  The thought wasn’t very comforting.

  “Sorry I don’t have better news.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, and it felt warm, encouraging. “I hate it when shitty things happen to people who don’t deserve it. There should be a whole lot more assholes gettin’ their just desserts.”

  Savvy laughed. “Oh, I needed that.” She’d wondered if she’d ever laugh again.

  “Positivity is important.” He smiled. “You’ll need every ounce of strength to make it through this situation.”

  “You don’t think this is over, do you?” The humor was short-lived, and she was worried again.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this right now?”

  “No, but tell me anyway.”

  “I’ve got a terrible feelin’. The man who took aim at you wasn’t playin’ around, even though he missed. This was an assassination attempt.”

  The word assassination wrung in her ears like an alarm bell. It was hard to hear or process anything else.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Accordin’ to your manager, they didn’t find anything at the scene, which means the shooter was a professional.”

  The blood froze in her veins.

  She cleared her throat. “Then why did he miss me?”

  “Excellent question. I haven’t figured that out yet though. I’ve got a feeling, neither one of us is gonna like the answer.”

  “You think he’ll come here?”

  “Yes.” King didn’t even hesitate.

  “Why?”

  “Because the job’s not done.”

  ***

  I shouldn’t have come here.

  Two hours later, Savvy was in the kitchen, scrubbing a casserole dish because she needed to keep her hands busy or go stark raving mad. Those were her only choices.

  Savvy felt like crap for putting her mom out. She’d agreed to let Savvy stay with her during this difficult time but dealing with her entourage was beyond the call of duty. Momma had to feed her manager and Emerald, the bridezilla to be, along with a passel of bodyguards, and now two Navy SEALs.

  All that’s missing is a partridge in a pear tree.

  She scrubbed even harder, until her hands were raw.

  “Hey there.” Adam walked into the kitchen, and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “I just got a message from Nathan, and he’s beside himself. He asked me for the millionth time if he could have your number.”

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “No, don’t worry. We need to have the talk, Savvy.”

  “You really wanna do this now?” She rinsed the dish off and laid it on the drying rack.

  “We might as well get it over with. We’ve been puttin’ it off for too long.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Savvy sighed.

  She’d once been a white-hot star, burning up those charts. Usually, her records had legs and stayed at the top of the charts for a long time, all the while bringing in healthy royalty checks. Now, her album hovered in the top ten for a week or two and then plunged in a free fall straight to the bottom where it stayed.

  Before someone had tried to kill her, Savvy had stayed up at night, worrying her career might be in jeopardy. Now that somebody was gunning for her, worrying about her album sales seemed ridiculous. But she literally couldn’t afford to ignore this problem. If anything, she needed the funds to protect herself.

  She turned to face him. “Where do you want to start?”

  Before Adam could speak, Emerald poked her head into the room, and Savvy gritted her teeth.

  She hadn’t told Adam about the hissy fit Emerald threw the night of the concert. Savvy figured she should keep it to herself. Getting in the middle of someone else’s relationship never worked out for the other person, even if they had pure intentions. Savvy doubted Emerald had told him what happened.

  “I’m so bored, Adam. Can’t we do somethin’ fun?”

  Yeah, I’m really sorry my crisis is cutting into your “me time.”

  Savvy turned around again before she flipped Emerald off or smacked her silly.

  “I know, baby, but I’ve got some business to take care of. After I finish up here, we’ll go somewhere nice. I promise. What about the bourbon trail?”

  “Okay, honey, but hurry up.” Whenever she spoke to Adam, she used a wispy voice, like Marilyn Monroe. She smooched his mouth, leaving a red lipstick stain, as though marking her territory.

  Savvy rolled her eyes.

  After she left, Adam turned his attention to Savvy once more.

  “Is there any point in sugarcoatin’ this?”

  “No, give it to me straight.”

  “Your sales are way down.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen the numbers.”

  “We’ve gotta fix this. Now.”

  “Maybe it’s a blip and things will pick up in a month or two.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  She closed her eyes. “No.” As much as she’d like to delude herself, she wasn’t a fool.

  “And you’re not the only one affected. As your manager, I get a cut of your sales, and you’re my biggest client.”

  Savvy gave him fifteen percent of her earnings. It was probably around half of his income since he didn’t represent any other big stars. She felt like she was letting Adam down.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. Let’s work on your image, maybe—”

  “This isn’t about my image.” Savvy p
laced her hands on her hips. “I want to go in a different direction. I should play my own music, somethin’ I can get behind.”

  The last time she sat down to record, her sessions had felt empty, hollow. What if her lack of interest in the material had reflected in the final product? And that’s why nobody was buying her album?

  “You wrote somethin’ for the last one.”

  “Yeah, I’ve done one song on each of them.” And she’d had to fight him tooth and nail. He’d even made her work with the co-writer, even though she’d been penning her own material for years, even if he never used it. “I wanna do the whole damn thing’. My music, done my way.”

  He frowned. “Savvy, you’ve got a certain sound.”

  “And it ain’t workin’ anymore. Clearly, I need to change things up. Besides, if I do one more breakup song, I’m gonna puke.” She had done a dozen “somebody done me wrong” songs.

  “You’ve been a hermit these past few months, and you need more exposure. You haven’t been photographed in any nightclubs in weeks.” Early on, they’d scheduled “photo ops” with other stars on her record label, to create “buzz.”

  Savvy hadn’t felt like dressing up and pretending, even for an evening.

  Adam wanted her life to look glamorous and exciting, to appeal to her teenaged fans. Savvy was much more comfortable being a homebody. When a girl spends ten months out of the year on the road, she just wants to stay put.

  “You seriously think havin’ dinner and drinks will do the trick?” She just didn’t get it.

  His lips thinned. “What about a romance? You and an Instagram-worthy guy?”

  Ugh. Dating for work isn’t an option. And why did he look so put out? Adam acted like he’d be the one puckering up for the paparazzi.

  “I don’t think we’re dealin’ with the real problem. All of this is window dressin’. I’m thirty years old, Adam, not twenty.”

  More than likely, her fans had grown up and moved on to another singer and Savvy was no longer cool with the groups who’d loved her music initially.

  He frowned. “I appreciate your opinions, and I’ll take them into account, but I’m your manager and you—”