Chapter 40
“No. Absolutely not!”
I fix my gaze on Haze, his expression firm and unwavering. The other guys shift uncomfortably under my scrutiny, their eyes darting away, unwilling to challenge his decision. With a roll of my eyes, I turn my glare on all of them, my frustration evident in the furrow of my brows and the tight set of my jaw. They may choose to remain silent, but my disapproval speaks volumes.
“Come one, Haze,” Brittney rolls her eyes at him. “Eden also needs her girlie time away from all of the testosterone she has to deal with,” her eyes dart at the other three and back to him. “I mean, man, you can cut it with a knife in here! At some point, Eden will transform into a male if she doesn’t get some more estrogen in the atmosphere around her!”
She waves her arms about in a dramatic manner as if she’s trying to get through a mist of male hormones in this jam-packed recording studio. I stifle my laughter by pursing my lips together.
“Stop the melodrama, Brittney,” Haze mutters, putting his guitar in its case. “There’s an arsehole out there trying to kill her. One of us is going with her.”
“But then we can’t talk about how much you suck,” she says, testing his nerves, and my laugh finally escapes. But not because of what she says but the look he gives her.
“You’re acting as if her bodyguard can’t do his job, and you need to be there to make sure he does.”
Brittney’s really got the guns out today.
Rick’s standing by the door like a statue, seemingly not involved. I don’t know how he does it: there all day, but not there. I can’t even imagine what he’s been forced to listen to as a bodyguard.
“How about if we switched cars? Rick takes us in the SUV, and you drive Brittney’s Cayenne home. He can bring us back to your place, and she can switch cars.”
“I’m not keen on—”
I put my hand up at Brit to interrupt her and wait for Haze’s reply.
“That’s not—”
I move my palm to Jagger, who’s about to say something, while Haze looks at me in thought because right now, he’s the loudest voice in the room, objecting to me hanging out alone with my girlfriend.
“I don’t see how that changes anything. How does switching cars make it safer?”
Fuck.
I don’t know.
It just sounded good at the time it left my mouth.
Time to get real, and I pull myself together because I really need this time with Brit.
“I need time with my girlfriend. I love you guys, but since Callum checked out of the hospital, I’m fucking one of you, sometimes two of you, but the reality is, I haven’t had one night where I slept alone in my bed. And I’m not complaining, I love sharing my bed with you men, but a girl sometimes needs her girl time with her female companions to find equilibrium so she can go home and appreciate the value and fun of her men. I need the pink, the fluff, the bubblegum, the frills, the glittery, the overall feminity in my life, and that’s something I really don’t want you to provide me ”cause it’ll be weird.”
The room remains silent.
I think the men are seriously contemplating this.
And maybe I’ve just thrown them down the guilt pit.
Haze turns to Rick.
“If there’s anything strange or unusual, get both women back in the vehicle.”
“Of course, Sir.”
I grab my hobo and kiss Haze on the cheek. “Stop telling Rick how to do his job. He’s doing pretty good.”
Haze grumbles something as a reply. I move on to the other three men to hug and kiss them and tell them I’ll see them soon enough. Callum quickly pulls me aside away from everyone.
“Here,” he pulls out my top and shoves something solid down my bra. “It’s a flip knife. You never know, siren.”
Before I can object, I look up into his eyes and notice his worry.
“Fine, I’ll keep your damn knife in my bra!”
I adjust it a little, and he smiles wide.
“What?”
“Right now, I’d like to be that knife.”
I push him away. “Freak.”
And he’s chuckling away, finding it hilarious.
“You seriously want my keys?”
My attention is drawn to Haze holding out his hand to Brittney.
“Rick will drive you both to wherever you want to go in our SUV, as it has a tracker attached to it.”
She blows out a frustrated sigh and hands him her keys.
Rick walks ahead to where our SUV is parked out front, scanning the entire street as we follow him.
“Wow, that’s a tough crowd. Is it like that every day with them?”
“Mhmm,” I say, agreeing with her. “But we’ve had some scary shit happen, like Storm’s abduction, my trailer getting bombed, Callum’s smokes laced with molly…..” my voice trails off.
I get inside the back of the SUV, Brittney follows, and Rick shuts the door and gets into the driver’s seat, as Brittney gives him the name of the restaurant.
“Shit, Eden. As much as I envy you snatching Rolling Stones’ four of their top ten hottest rock stars, I wouldn’t want to be you with all that Hawaii Five-0 drama.”
“Envy, eh? So, does my bestie finally approve of my boyfriends?”
“You have my support as your friend. But I don’t have to like them.”
“You don’t like them, but you think they’re hot.”
“Never said I thought they were hot. Rolling Stones did. I hate what they did to you ten years ago, so it’s tough to trust them again without thinking they might fuck up again.”
Brittney doesn’t know all the details about my kidnapping, and for her own protection, she never will.
“Let bygones be bygones.”
“How was New York?” she asks, changing the topic.
“Brutal,” I say, and she rolls her eyes. “But I did what I had to do.”
“Did she blame the guys?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna guess she probably told you non-stop.”
“I haven’t spoken to Catalina since she left LA, but she did mention several times how she wanted to string their necks. Honestly, though, I was hardly here in LA when she stayed at mine. Plus, I tended to use the excuse that I had a guest at my place so I could stay over at someone.”
My eyes go wide with surprise and excitement.
“Omigod! Girl…no freaking way! So who the fuck is this mysterious person you hooked up with and refrained from mentioning it to me ?”
She giggles all girly, and I swear I feel like we’re teenagers again talking about guys we’re crushing on. In my case, it was always weirdly four guys…I used to be a very confused teenager, smitten with not just one band member but all of them. Then I found out via Brittney that polyamory was a thing, and I sighed with relief that I wasn’t some freaky nympho.
“He.”
“He?” I look at her, confused.
“Exactly. He.” She says bluntly. “He’s older and very private, which is how he prefers to be called when I discuss him with my girlfriends.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means he’s private and older than us.”
“Okay, I get that the media is always around you, and he doesn’t want that kind of attention, but it’s me you’re chatting with, not the media.”
She shrugs her shoulders but remains tight-lipped.
“Earth to Brittney! I’m the least person expected to talk to the media about anything!”
Before I have a chance to say anything further, Rick parks the vehicle in the parking space and opens the door for me.
“Ms. Rivers, I will join you inside. If you need me, I’ll be available at a short distance.
“That’s fine, Rick. If you want to also grab something to eat, you’re welcome to get a table and order something.”
“Thank you, mam, but I’ll eat when my duty is over for the day.”
“Fine, but this place has delicious food. If you get hungry, feel free to order something and tell them to direct the bill to me.”
“Thank you, mam.”
I watch him take his place behind us, and Brit leans closer to me. “So you’re finally used to him?”
She knows I always hated people trailing me, but under the current circumstances I’d rather someone else be alert for me so I don’t have to.
“I don’t have a choice,” I say as we cross the road and enter the restaurant.
“Ironic, right? When I was a lot more famous, I only needed one or two when I had somewhere official to attend. Now he’s everywhere, and we’ve got more of them at home guarding the house twenty-four-seven.”
“Geez, hopefully, once they catch this stalker, things will ease up.”
Somehow, after all this is over, I’m not sure the guys will ever let the security go.
The ma?tre d” recognizes Brittney and discreetly guides us to a corner table, offering a prime spot that allows us to observe the large front windows and entrance. I have no idea where Rick’s gone, but I bet he’s taken some discreet spot to observe everyone in the room. He’s pretty good at being a chameleon and camouflaging himself within the background.
Maybe that’s what always makes me feel uneasy about bodyguards; you don’t know they are there, but they are always watching and waiting like a guardian angel, ready to put their bodies in front to save yours.
Brittney and I take a moment to scan the room. The ambiance here is modern, with clean lines. The dimmed lights cast a warm glow, and the aroma of exquisite cuisine wafts through the air. I spot a few familiar faces and notice discreet glances from other diners, recognizing the unspoken protocol of respecting each other”s privacy while acknowledging the shared space within the entertainment world.
“So, how much older is this secret man of yours?” I say as we sit down in this upscale restaurant known for its celebrity clientele.
I’m glad Brittney chose this place; at least people won’t be staring at us. Ever since my last interview, the paps have started to emerge here and there, and old fans are appearing out of nowhere. But most are female fans panting for the guys.
Ten years ago, I left a bad taste on everyone”s lips, so they aren’t eager to see me. But if they do, most likely, it”s to find something negative and post it online for likes. Women, especially, love doing this. Female empowerment died when social media became a platform for tearing others down instead of lifting them up.
“Forties. Early forties”
I look at her wide-eyed. “Are you f’ing with me? He won’t disclose his age?”
“Does age matter?”
“Not really. But I don’t get what it is with this guy?”
“As I said, he’s very private.”
“And he chose Los Angeles to be a private person?”
Brittney doesn’t miss the irony in my voice and smiles.
The waiter approaches, presenting us with the menus but we both know what we want and place our order with him.
“I know it sounds retarded. He has a place here in LA, but it’s just one of many places he owns. I’ve only been to his place in LA because I haven’t seen him that long.”
“Where did you meet this guy?”
“September, when I started filming season three in San Francisco.”
I look at her in disbelief and a little disappointed in not hearing about this sooner.
“That’s when I met him, not when I started fucking him,” she says, sensing my displeasure. “As you know, I’m renting a condo there, and parking is really shitty in the city, so I usually take cabs or Ubers home, except that evening some roadworks blocked the street where my building is. It was only a block away, so I got out as far as the car could take me, and while I walked home, I got jumped by some asshole. He just happened to be walking his dog. Actually, his ex-girlfriend lived on the same block as me, and he had gone to pick up his dog from her. Anyway, he saved me from the asshole.”
“Sounds very contrived,” I say, rolling my eyes as I dig into my ravioli.
“Stop it, Eden,” she frowns at me.
“He’s very genuine guy. His work doesn’t allow him to get out much.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a scientist, government stuff.”
“Nerd,” I smirk playfully at her.
Brittney giggles.
“Not in bed. Girl….” She leans in closer to me. “he’s hung like a freaking horse and wild like a rabid beast.”
The corners of her mouth curve upward, creating an involuntary, delighted smile as she moves away and goes back to her food.
My eyes widen with a sudden spark of astonishment, as if a burst of unexpected fireworks has illuminated my thoughts. She is in it for the sex. I know Brittney enough to know she’s not emotionally too attached to this man. Her dating history tends to be a lot of unmeaningful fucks, and if she’s interested in the guy, I’d never hear the end of it. The latter type rarely exists in her dating life because the only commitment Brittney has is toward her career.
Shaking my head, I get back to my own meal.
“Whatever,” I say, popping another spicy pumpkin ravioli in my mouth. “If the sex is good, then I’m happy for you.”
“Sex is good for a positive mind, and a positive mind brings only goodness,” I add as an afterthought.
She huffs a laugh. “Exactly.”
The evening progresses, and we move on from dinner to sharing a plate of the restaurant”s signature chocolate gateau and coffee. Brittany’s eyes sparkle as she tells me about her latest projects with genuine happiness, and I’m glad we’re not talking about me. I just needed a break from all my issues. The weight of my private problems is momentarily lifted, replaced by the lightness of our friendship.
“I have an early flight back to San Fransico tomorrow,” She calls over the waiter and asks for the check. I grab it and give him my card.
“Next time, babe,” I say, typing my pin into the device he hands me.
Out of nowhere, Rick appears and tells me to sit and wait until he brings the vehicle to the entrance.
“Super vigilant!” Brittney remarks, and I smile at her.
I feel more stressed about my stalker with all the security around me, and I hate the feeling of constantly living in fear.
“I have to—”
I’m interrupted by a deafening explosion erupting outside, shaking the windows and causing panic to ripple through the restaurant. Brittney’s eyes widen in shock, and she instinctively glances toward the source of the disturbance. The distant glow of flames reflects in her eyes as a plume of smoke rises into the night sky.
As the realization sets in, my heart pounds in my chest. Dread creeps into me as I recall the parking lot where Rick left the SUV. A chilling thought lingers in her mind—could that have been the vehicle that just exploded?
Chaos ensues within the restaurant. Diners clamor for the exits, and the once serene ambiance devolves into a scene of disarray. Amidst the panic, the lights flicker, casting erratic shadows across the faces of the bewildered patrons.
“Come on,” I drag her out of the chair, “We need to get out of here,” I shout.
As we attempt to navigate through the sea of people rushing to escape, the restaurant”s entrance bursts open. Several masked men, clad in dark clothing, storm in with an air of calculated menace. Their faces obscured, and they moved with swift precision towards us.
“This way,” I grab Brittney’s arm and realize it’s me they’re after.
Terrified gasps echo as the masked intruders disrupt the chaotic exodus. One of them points towards me, and the air around me thickens with a sense of impending danger. I throw Brittney into the crowd for her own safety, taking one last look at my best friend as she looks at me with confusion. I turn toward the kitchen area, hoping there’s some kind of service door.
Once a haven for fine dining, the restaurant transforms into a nightmarish battleground as people scream and scramble to get out.
Panic and confusion seize me as strong hands grab me, pulling me away from the main room. I struggle against these men, unable to comprehend the swift and brutal turn of events. The masked men move with a chilling efficiency, orchestrating the chaos with a dark purpose.
As I’m forcibly led out, the restaurant becomes a surreal backdrop to a nightmare, I hear heavy gunfire, and then my shoulder is pricked, and regardless of the screams and struggles I make, I’m all too familiar with this abduction.
He’s back, and this time, it will be more brutal than the first abduction.