Chapter 5
Ford
God, some days I really hated our clients.
Security work was customer service, no matter how you dressed it up. Keep the client safe. Keep the client happy. Smile when they were being a pain in the ass.
Most of the time, it wasn’t so bad. When someone had a stalker, an overzealous fan, or legitimate threat, they tended to follow our lead.
Let us do our job. Those were the days I preferred, when the mission was clear and the client wasn’t in the way and I could do my job without any distractions or disruptions.
But then there were other assignments. Like babysitting a spoiled CEO who wanted to binge every Cirque du Soleil show on the Strip while pounding back whiskey and sneaking in board meetings between hangovers. Those were the days that made me wonder why I hadn’t just joined the damn circus myself.
I was still stewing over that last headache of a job—which I’d just finished, thank god—when I pushed through the office doors and nearly ran into Andrea who was standing just inside.
I grinned at her, my annoyance dissipating. “Wow, you picking up Chase instead of the other way around? Next thing you’ll tell me it’s raining in Vegas.”
“You’re as bad as Austin sometimes,” Andrea shot back, but she was smiling. “I got off work a little early so I’m grabbing him before we head out for dinner. He’s almost finished for the day and he’ll be here in about half an hour.”
Andrea’s job as a graphic designer usually kept her late at the office.
Deadlines, client meetings, the whole project-lead thing.
Chase’s schedule, like mine, was more erratic and fluid, but when he was stuck at a desk and not out on a security detail, he almost always finished before she did.
Today, he’d been out in the field on an assignment.
“Glad to see someone around here is preventing him from becoming a total workaholic,” I teased as Andrea’s purse started buzzing.
She dug into her bag for her phone and waved me on. Looking at the front desk, I could see we had a new receptionist. Again. Our boss, Sutton, burned through front end employees and assistants like tissues during allergy season.
I stepped up to the desk, giving the young girl a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Ford,” I said, introducing myself.
“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “I’m Bridget—”
“What?” Andrea’s sharp tone snapped my head back around to her.
She’d gone pale, clutching her phone tight to her ear as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.
“No, of course—I’ll be there—do not let Violet check herself out—she’s insane, don’t listen to her—no she’s not literally insane—no she’s not on any medication—just birth control, the pill—she’s just stubborn, if she says she’s fine chances are she’s lying. ”
The sound of Violet’s name caught my attention and I stepped closer to Andrea, who was clearly extremely rattled. “Everything okay?” I whispered.
She shook her head at me and addressed whoever was still on the phone. “Yes, okay, I’m on my way. Thank you.” Andrea disconnected the call, her eyes filled with panic. “It’s Violet. She was in a car crash.”
My stomach felt like it fell to the floor between my feet. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. Mostly. They’re still checking her over.
” She exhaled a shaky breath. “She was sideswiped on the highway and her car crashed into the guardrail. The front end completely crumpled, but her air bag went off like it was supposed to, which helped with the impact. She’s insisting she doesn’t need to go to the hospital. ”
That sounded exactly like Violet. Stubborn to the point of reckless.
I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind since our night at The Players Club.
Not just the way she’d felt as I’d fucked her—hot, wild, finally breaking and begging—but the way she’d bolted after it was over.
I’d offered aftercare, tried to give her what she needed so she didn’t crash hard after I’d put her through such an intense scene, but she’d practically run from me like I was someone she couldn’t risk wanting.
All weekend, I’d worried about her. Subdrop wasn’t life-threatening, but I knew enough to recognize the signs, like a hangover without the alcohol, your body wrung out from the adrenaline and endorphins, your head scrambled by the sudden decline.
It left a submissive drained, edgy, overly emotional.
Aftercare was what softened the fall, and I hated that she hadn’t allowed me to give her that.
And then, once the concern had faded, something more elemental had taken its place: need.
I wanted to see her again. Fuck her again.
Dom her again. She’d been like an addiction, and had now become an obsession.
That night with her had been the best scene of my life, no question.
Since then I’d been thinking of various ways to persuade her to reconsider her “one and done” rule.
But now—now Violet was hurt and that thought gutted me. The image of Violet behind the wheel, slammed into and crashing against a guardrail, shook me in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“I’ll drive you,” I told Andrea before I could second-guess my offer. “I don’t think Chase would appreciate me letting you get behind the wheel while you’re so upset. You can call him on the way to the hospital and let him know what’s going on.”
Andrea managed a small, grateful smile as she handed me the keys to her car. “Thanks, Ford. I appreciate it.”
Once we arrived at the hospital they sent Andrea back to see Violet and told me to stay in the waiting room since I wasn’t family. I ended up pacing the hallway near the vending machines instead of sitting in one of those hard plastic chairs.
It was ridiculous to be this worried, I told myself. I barely knew Violet and Andrea had said the accident wasn’t life-threatening. I needed to get a grip.
And yet…I couldn’t shake what I was feeling. I couldn’t stand the thought of Violet hurt and stubbornly downplaying her injuries, like she downplayed everything that made her the slightest bit vulnerable. I’d seen that for myself the night at the club.
I heard the sound of hurried footsteps, and then a young man entered the room. He spotted me and held up his hand in an awkward wave. “Um, hey, is this where the, uh, family members wait?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
The guy was young, around twenty. He was tall, a bit on the bulky side with a mop of dark hair. He looked around, approached the vending machine, changed his mind, then sat. Less than a minute later, he stood again, restless energy rolling off him.
“Who are you waiting on?” I asked casually. Maybe calming this kid down and distracting him would keep me from overthinking everything myself.
“My sister,” the guy said. “They brought her here after a car crash. I was told it was minor, but sometimes they just say that to keep everyone calm, right? Until they check with x-rays and other tests and find something worse.”
His voice was tight, his complexion pale, his worry unmistakable. He sounded like he was speaking from experience, giving me the impression that maybe he’d been in a car crash himself or lost someone to one.
Then, his words clicked. “Wait, are you talking about Violet?”
“Yeah, I’m her brother, Christopher.” He eyed me warily. “And you are?”
“Ford. I’m a friend.” I held my hand out and we shook. “I know your sister through Andrea.”
His lips pursed. “Yeah, Andrea.”
His tone was…off. A little disgruntled, even. I knew that Andrea and Violet were half-sisters, and they were close. That didn’t seem to be the case with Andrea and Christopher.
“Do you know anything about Violet?” Christopher asked me. “Is she okay?”
“The paramedic that spoke with Andrea said that Violet seemed to be all right but they wanted to check her over more thoroughly as a precautionary measure,” I said, trying to ease his anxiety. “They wouldn’t let me in to see her yet. Family only.”
I was about to tell him that he could probably ask to see Violet since he was family, when Christopher’s phone rang. He grimaced and pulled out the device, then crossed to the other end of the room to answer it.
His voice was low as he spoke, and I suspected it wasn’t just because he was trying to be polite. From what I could hear, his tone was tense and harsh.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” he grated out. “I told you, get someone else.”
Anger etched his expression as he listened to whatever the other person on the phone said before he snapped, “You want to talk about crossing a fucking line? That’s what you did today.”
His words grabbed my attention. I was sure it meant nothing. Christopher having a tense, upset conversation with someone right after Violet had ended up in a minor car crash was most likely just a coincidence.
Unfortunately, my gut said otherwise. Violet had gotten side-swiped and pushed into a guardrail, which wasn’t just a normal kind of car accident.
Now she was in the hospital, luckily with only minor wounds, but still, she’d been hurt.
And now her brother was telling someone on the phone they’d crossed a line for something they did?
I didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.
“Ford?” Andrea entered the waiting room and walked up to me, her entire body stiffening when she saw Violet’s brother there, too. “Oh, Christopher.”
Christopher raised his hand up, still clutching his phone to his ear. “Hey Andrea, be there in a second.” He turned his back to her to finish his call, his voice more hushed now.
Andrea glanced over at me and I didn’t miss the troubled look in her eyes. “Can you come with me to speak with Violet?”
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
Andrea shot Christopher a sharp look as she turned to lead me down the hall to Violet’s room. Hmmm. Yeah, there was something going on between these siblings and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to find out what it was.
But right now, all that mattered was Violet and the need to see for myself that she truly was okay.