Chapter 3 #2
They reached the terrace. Aurora yanked out her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“What? Why? I don’t understand—”
“There was a man.”
“So?”
“He had a gun.”
Lana gasped. “Are you sure?”
“Excuse me,” a male voice said. “Is everything all right?”
Aurora spun around, stretching out her arms to shield her friend. “Lana, get behind me!” No way was she going to lose someone else, and she cared a heck of a lot more about Lana than pretty much anyone.
The man from downstairs stood before her, his arms up. He was holding a phone. There was no gun in sight.
“Who are you? What were you doing in the other penthouse?” she demanded.
Lana peered over Aurora’s shoulder.
“I was just moving in, and I heard voices up here. It sounded like someone was upset, so I wanted to come and check things out.”
“See?” Lana put her hand on Aurora’s back. “I don’t think he means any harm, sweetie. He’s just a new neighbor.”
The guy nodded. He wore dark jeans, loafers, a white button down with a blazer over the top.
The type of outfit any number of rich guys who lived in this building might be wearing.
Yet he was a lot more built than the typical rich guy.
The way he held himself conveyed strength, even danger.
He was over six feet, with broad shoulders that strained the seams of his jacket.
His hands were large, his fingers wrapping deftly around his phone.
He had a striking face. Lean, sharp cheekbones, a prominent nose. More like Dominic Crane, the crime boss, than like Crane’s henchmen.
Aurora didn’t trust him.
But her friend was already crossing the rooftop deck toward the guy. “We had a rough night. I’m Lana Marchetti. She’s Aurora Bennett. Did you move into the apartment next to hers? The other penthouse?”
“Um, yeah. That’s me.” The guy tucked his phone back into his pocket. “If everything’s okay here, I’m going to head back downstairs and unpack.”
He hadn’t even told them his name. His eyes kept moving across the deck, as if he was checking for something…
Checking for threats. And there was a grace in the way he moved, the way he shifted his weight between his feet.
Almost like a dancer. A smoothness to his movements that seemed predatory. He’d had training.
Wait a minute. Aurora knew exactly where this guy had come from.
Un-freaking-believable.
“You’re military, aren’t you? You’re the bodyguard. My brother sent you.”
His eyes fixed on her, and the rest of his body had gone still. Betraying nothing. Which only confirmed her suspicions.
She had met army guys through her brother.
Max had shed many of the mannerisms of his military days, at least the most obvious ones.
The stiff, straight back, the solemnness of his expression.
Now, Max could be just as charming and easy-going as any wealthy playboy in West Oaks. When he chose to be.
But this guy? He was fresh. It was like he’d come here straight off the base.
He shook his head. “Afraid you have me mistaken for someone else.” He spoke in a monotone. “I’m just renting the apartment.”
“Bullshit. Max sent you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She took out her phone. “Then I’ll ask him. What’s your name?”
His eyes flipped over her quickly, and then he said, “Rick Harrison.”
Aurora started texting. “You’re a crappy liar, Rick Harrison. I know military when I see it. And you expect me to believe you just happen to move in today, the very day that my brother told me he wanted to send extra protection for me? Does Max really think I’m that clueless?”
The man’s face changed. The blank, soldier-like expression was gone. Instead, his lips slid into a smirk. His brows arched, his eyes narrowing on her. His beautiful features sharpened into something more wicked.
“Afraid I have better things to do than chase after a spoiled little rich girl. If we’re done here, I really need to get back downstairs. I have my own work to do.”
“Spoiled little…” Anger flooded through her as her fists clenched. How dare he speak to her that way? As if he knew anything about her. “You have no idea what…”
But clearly, she’d been wrong. This guy wasn’t working for Max. Otherwise he’d never be so rude.
She was seeing phantoms everywhere, like that gun. So, this was really her fault, not his.
My fault.
She saw danger when there wasn’t any. But when those men shot Brandon? Killed him? She’d hidden and done nothing.
My fault.
Why was her vision feathering at the edges? Why couldn’t she breathe?
“I’m not… I’m not feeling…”
Suddenly, the floor raced up to meet her.
“Rory!” Lana cried.
Aurora felt strong arms lifting her up. She was distantly aware that her new neighbor, the asshole Rick Harrison, was carrying her. He held her gently, his feet gliding down the steps.
The scene around her changed. They’d reached her apartment. Rick lay her down on the couch. He was saying something else to Lana, but that was when exhaustion finally overwhelmed Aurora, and her eyes couldn’t stay open anymore.