by M James
“And you’re happy about this?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear her say it out loud.
“Yes,” April says flatly. “Whatever hang-ups you have about getting close to Rain again, get over them now, Zach. This is your opportunity to make sure that when it comes time to put Vincent away, Rain will help us. She has to feel like she can trust you, like she can rely on you.”
She can, I want to say, but even I’m not sure how true that is. If the day comes when I have to choose between protecting Rain, being there for her, and my job, which one will I choose? I don’t know the answer to that. And that’s one of a hundred reasons why I’ve been staying as far away from her as I fucking can.
No matter how often I tell myself that I can be indifferent, I know how impossible that is. Just the thought of Rain makes my heart race, and I remember how I felt seeing her that afternoon in Italy, when I’d never thought I’d see her again. Seeing her brings back memories that I’ve tried for years to bury. It’s been hard just to be near her. Now I’m being pushed into closer and closer proximity with her, forced into a situation that I’m trying desperately to fight when I know if this keeps going, I’ll eventually lose the battle. I could avoid her before, as much as possible, now I’ll need to be near her every day, while still trying not to give in to what April’s ordered, not to seduce her, not to take back everything I want for just a moment.
I’ll need to be distant, cold, and impartial while making April believe that I’m doing what she wants me to, and I’m honestly so fucking sick of the entire game. This will be the hardest test yet of the person I’ve become, but—
I promised Rain a long time ago that I would protect her. Not that I would love her, not that I would do anything to be with her, not that I would be her lover or her partner or even her friend. I have always, always wanted to be all of those things to her, even when I was with other girls, even when I told her otherwise, even when I fought against it with all my might, desperately afraid of becoming my father, desperately scared of hurting her.
But above all, I promised that I would protect her. And I can still do that.
Even if it means hurting her, in the end.
“Of course,” I tell April, with a confidence that I don’t actually feel. “It won’t be a problem. I understand that this is what the agency wants from me, and I’ll do it.”
April narrows her eyes as if she doesn’t quite believe me, but she just nods. “Good,” she says. “Because Vincent is waiting for you in his study.”
---
I’m honestly not sure if there’s ever a time when Vincent doesn’t look like a complete arrogant asshole. I walk into his office, shadowed by April. She nods to him before closing the door behind me and leaving me standing in front of Vincent’s huge mahogany desk, breathing in the thick scent of tobacco and cedarwood and leather. The room is masculine, elegant but still overbearing, just like the man himself.
I honestly can’t figure out what Rain ever saw in him.
I want to be anywhere other than here, talking to this asshole who’s been inside of my girl for the last couple of years. I want a hot shower, a glass of whiskey, and my own bed in my own apartment without Sonya in it, but I know I’m only going to get one, maybe two of those things, and it won’t be my own bed.
But this is the job, after all. Keeping a good face on even when you feel as if it’s the last thing you can do.
“Just the man I was looking for.” Vincent looks almost as exhausted as I feel, but he’s still sitting up straight in his chair, a glass of what looks like whiskey at his elbow, and it’s hard to contain my jealousy. His face is hard, his jaw set, and I remind myself to be careful. Vincent might be an overblown asshole focused on power and greed, but he’s got to be vicious if he’s gotten this far.
“Sonya spoke very highly of your ability to protect her,” Vincent says casually, not bothering to tell me if I can sit or not. “She was more enthusiastic about you defending that bar than I’ve heard her about anything in a long time. And I heard what you did for my Poppy tonight, throwing yourself in front of her and shooting that man. You’re quick with a trigger and a good shot. You don’t flinch or second-guess.” Vincent frowns. “Those are rare qualities in a bartending ex-con, I have to say. Surprising that a man like you got caught at all.”
I hear the suspicion in his voice. “I got ratted on,” I say simply. “I can be as careful and quick as can be, but if one of the guys spills their guts, not much I can do about that.”
“No, that’s true.” Vincent drums his fingers on his desk. “What were your aspirations, getting out of prison? Find a gorgeous, rich woman to shack up with?”
What a prick.
“No sir. Just wanted to do my job. My relationship with Sonya surprised the hell out of me. I can promise you that.”
“You and me both,” Vincent smirks. “You’re loyal to my cousin?”
“I’m loyal to anyone who deserves it, and I’d say Sonya fits that bill.”
“Do you love her?”
“We haven’t been together for that long. I’d say love is a strong word and not one that I throw around easily.”
“So you aspire to be a bartender? That’s it?” He grins with condescension lacing his tone.
“I had a lot of time to think, in prison.” I shrug. “I wanted an ordinary life, one that keeps me out of trouble. I took the job Sonya offered me because I figured working in a high-class establishment like that could open some doors for me.” I look at Vincent evenly, not flinching, just as I didn’t flinch when the shooter came towards Rain. “I want a job that pays enough that I don’t have to worry about being on the streets, hungry or having my lights turned off because I can’t pay. And I don’t want to get by on the wrong side of the law anymore. One stint in prison was enough for me. So yeah, as long as bartending does that for me, I’m fine with it. And I expect I’ll go back to that once this danger is past and Sonya and I can go home.”
“Any hobbies?” Vincent eyes me and then grins, as if sensing my discomfort. “Just wanting to get to know the guy who my little cousin is shacking up with, that’s all.”
I shrug again. “Motorcycles. Old cars.” That much is actually true. I think back to the old Mustang GT I’d had in high school, and immediately Rain flashes into my head, leaning back against the car as I kissed her, her lips warm and sweet against my mouth. That had been the car where…
Fuck. That’s the absolute last thing I need to think about.
“Well.” Vincent leans back in his chair. “As noble of aspiration as bartending is, I have something else for you. You showed real gumption tonight, protecting my fiancée the way you did. You’re going to have some extra time on your hands, as I’m going to need Sonya by my side while we get to the bottom of these attacks and what’s threatening our family and our businesses. So during that time, I’d like you to be part of Poppy’s security team. April will still be working for me, but I want her to focus more on watching Erin. The two of you can work together in tandem, making sure that both girls are safe so that I don’t have to worry while I’m gone. I wouldn’t have pegged you for the job immediately, but Sonya assures me that there’s no one she’ll be safer with. So I’d be very pleased if you’d accept.”
I try to look surprised, even though April’s already warned me about this. “Do I get a raise?” I joke, trying to cover up my lack of shock with humor. “After all, seems like it’s a riskier job than usual these days. And if you want me to take a bullet for this girl—”
“That girl is my fiancée,” Vincent says, sounding mildly annoyed. “And there are things she needs to do besides sit around the house all day, including getting ready for our wedding. With you keeping an eye out along with April, I’ll feel much more comfortable.”
“I’m happy to do it,” I say finally.
“Being so close to our family comes with certain—perks, Chase. Access to the finer things in life, to indulgences that others don’t have,” Vincent says s
lowly. “But you need to understand that in exchange for that, I expect discretion and absolute loyalty. I hope that I don’t ever have cause to regret Sonya bringing you here.”
I can hear the warning in his tone, and I meet his gaze, my own as even and cool as his. “ “I understand completely,” I say calmly.
“Just call me Vincent,” he says impatiently. “You’re still my cousin’s boyfriend, even if you are working security for me. I’ll have April give you the rest of the information you need. I expect you to be at Poppy’s side whenever possible and appropriate. April will inform you of everything in detail, but I expect her, and now you, to make a note of everywhere that Poppy goes, what she eats, what she does, and who she does it with. What she spends money on, and for whom. Her daily routine is set for her, and she is expected to abide by it. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, or anything suspicious, I expect you to report it to me immediately. This is what I mean by saying that you work for me. I expect your loyalty to be to me and not to my fiancée.” Vincent takes a deep breath. “Poppy has been through a lot recently. I know that all may sound ‘controlling,’ but it’s for her own good. She needs someone to watch over her physical and mental health because she’s not always in the right mindset to do it herself. But I can’t always be around to do that, and it’s April’s job and yours to ensure that she’s kept on her routine and that I’m kept informed while I’m not around.”
He does a great fucking job of making it sound less fucking creepy than it actually is. He’s sending every red flag I can possibly think of flying. Still, all framed in a way that sounds just logical enough that he can probably convince himself that he’s not a fucking controlling, obsessive asshole. It makes me want to punch him right in his self-satisfied face, but of course, I can’t do that. All I can do is nod.
“Of course. I’m happy to help. Whatever you need.”
Vincent pauses, looking at me curiously. “I’m usually good at reading people,” he says slowly. “You’re difficult, though. I’m going to trust you with my fiancée’s safety, and I hope that I’ve made the right call. I like to be right, Chase. You should know that. Making me look like a fool comes with consequences far worse than just being unemployed. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Absolutely, sir. Vincent.” The misstep is on purpose, but he wouldn’t know that. I keep my gaze even and, I hope, deferential. Privately I think he already looks like an idiot, with his arrogant posturing. But that isn’t part of my job, to think about how Vincent looks.
My job, apparently, is making all of the women around him so distracted with lust that they give up whatever secrets they have while April does the real digging.
And, most importantly, protecting Rain.
Whatever that means.
16
Rain
On the drive back to the house, all I could think about was Zach. I almost wished we were still in the club, still on the floor, just so I could feel the weight of his body against mine. Just so I could breathe in the scent of his cologne and skin and pretend for an instant that I was with him instead, that I could just stay underneath him, that instead of him protecting me from a shooter, he was on top of me for a different reason altogether.
Once, Zach was my best friend. Once, he was everything to me.
I used to never let myself go back to that time. Even before Vincent, it hurt too much. It was too painful to think about how I gave him everything, only to lose him. Zach was always the boy that I wanted for all of my firsts, and I got that much—my first kiss, my first caress, my first time in bed with a boy. It was him in the end, and I memorized every touch and kiss back then, every slow hot slide of his body inside of mine. I memorized it—and tucked it away because remembering was too hard.
Anyone between Zach and Vincent doesn’t matter. I forgot them all easily. They were all clumsy and careless, not boys but not quite men, only interested in their own pleasure. They didn’t care about me like Zach did, and Vincent would later pretend to. Zach might not have been experienced, but what we had was something unlike anything else. This connection could defy the whole world if we both wanted it to.
On the other hand, Vincent knows his way around a woman’s body like an explorer with a well-worn map. At the beginning of our relationship, I’d loved that, thought that Vincent was opening up experiences for me that I’d never known was possible, making me want him, giving me unimaginable pleasure with his skill.
But he demanded my unwavering obedience for it, and I realized that way too late.
I’d pushed Zach out of my head for so long because I couldn’t bear to miss what I’d never have again. But now he’s so close, unbearably so. For weeks I’ve forced myself not to think about pulling him into the library, into a spare bedroom, sneaking a kiss, a touch, or even more. But tonight, something broke inside of me. I don’t know if it was the music or the burlesque dancer or just the overall mood of the club, or if it was him saving me again, protecting me again after so many years. Still, the floodgates of all those emotions burst open, and now I can’t seem to stop it.
I can’t stop thinking about how Zach’s arms felt around me when he covered me with his body, the strength in them, the way he protected me without a second thought, just as he’d always sworn he would. He kept his promise all over again, and it made all those feelings rush back, hot and painful in the best kind of way, making me feel alive again for the first time in what feels like forever.
I’d never actually imagined, before Italy, that I’d ever see Zach again. He’d been a bittersweet memory. Something beautiful tinged with the bitter regret of what might have been. If we’d made different choices, been different people, lived different lives. If, if if.
I’d been terrified when those shots went off. I’m still getting over the fear and shock of what happened in Italy. Those gunshots had activated that trauma all over again. But despite my terror, it had all seemed to fade in the background with Zach so close, his body pressed against mine, all that hard muscle so familiar and so new all at once, the scent of him strange and nostalgic at the same time.
I’d wanted so desperately to press myself against him, to kiss him, to wind around his body and remember what it had all felt like. What would he have done if I’d done that?
I want to believe that he would have kissed me back, pulled me into his arms, thrown caution to the wind, but I know that’s not true. That’s never been Zach, not before and not now. He’s always believed that he could love me better, protect me better, from a distance. And nothing about that has changed.
It’s just for a different reason now, one that I don’t know and can’t figure out and that he won’t tell me.
It wouldn’t have changed anything, anyway. In fact, it would have only made things harder.
It was easier to be with Vincent when I thought I’d never see Zach again, when I could remind myself that as awful as Vincent is, other men out there aren’t much better—that in general, they’re flaky and afraid of commitment, neglectful and selfish, drunk, rude and unfaithful. Vincent at least comes with perks, as Dena so often reminds me. Some other guy might expect me to cook him dinner after a long day of work and then blow him on top of that. Vincent expects obedience, a certain level of beauty and fitness, and sex. I don’t have to cook and clean when I’m exhausted. I don’t have to kill myself day after day at a thankless job, bringing home far less than I’m worth. I don’t have to worry about anything, really, except staying pretty and turning a blind eye to his discretions.
That’s how I should feel, but I don’t. I hate my life, even with the so-called perks. I’d trade them in a second if given a chance for my old life back.
But I have no choice. I can’t leave, no matter what I believe or don’t believe. Even if I no longer care if other men are better or worse than Vincent, even if I no longer want anything other than to be single and alone for the rest of my fucking life after this.
The problem is there is one person that I still wa
nt, one that I’d risk it all for, and he’s close, dangerously close.
It’s only ever been him, I think hopelessly as the car pulls up to the curb. Even when I thought I was in love with Vincent, this was still simmering deep down, locked away, contained. If Zach hadn’t shown up again, would it have stayed locked up forever? Or would it have all broken free five, ten, fifteen years from now, until I drowned in regret and lost love and memories that are only ever going to be that?
I want to be loved. I want to be cherished again, adored, protected, desired. And I want to feel that way for someone else. I’d let myself believe that I could just harden my heart, curl up into a tight little ball and endure for the sake of my family, but tonight made me feel alive again. Zach made me feel alive again, and I don’t know how I’m going to shove that all away, lock it up once more and forget how he makes me feel, how much I still love him, how much I’d die to be with him.
I might actually die if Vincent gets even an inkling that I felt like this. And Zach too. And my father, which would kill my mother, and then what would happen to Erin? They’re who I’m doing all of this for.
I follow April numbly to the door, Erin in tow, my emotions a web of fear and misery and desire and love and grief and guilt. All I want is for things to be simple again, to be sixteen and in love, with no knowledge of what was in store for me in the future.
But it’ll never be like that again. I’ll never be innocent again. Even if I were somehow free of Vincent, I can’t wipe away everything he’s done to me. I can’t change it. I can’t go back.
I just wish there were some way to salve the hurt, just for a little while.