Chapter Five #3
I approach the area to which I was assigned, finding it empty, no people hanging around, but when I reach my mirrored section, I stop short.
All my things are strewn everywhere. A vase of flowers, which was on the counter, are lying randomly across the floor, surrounded by shards of broken glass.
The drawers are open, and my purse was removed and emptied out, the contents mixed among the flowers.
And someone wrote on the mirror with what looks like lipstick, the words Drop Out or Else scrawled in red on the reflective surface. This is the first time I have visible proof that there is a threat of some kind against me, and I am freaked out.
I spin around in a panic and run directly into Ben’s hard chest.
“Whoa,” he says, grasping my forearms tightly. He glances beyond me, taking in the wreckage of what was her backstage area.
“Fuck. Who the hell was watching this room?” he yells, keeping me tucked protectively beneath the shelter of his arm.
And I don’t want to leave there anytime soon.
* * *
Ben
I am furious. My job is to guard Summer, not to danger-proof the club.
Either someone didn’t do their job or the powers that be thought it was enough to have coverage on the girls, to hell with other types of threats.
I won’t be surprised if it is the latter.
Orion Motors and Jade Glow just want the talent protected.
Speaking of the talent, Summer has curled into me for protection, and I hate to admit how much I like her there, about as much I liked that hot kiss and grind on the dance floor.
I run a hand through my hair. Something has to be done about this attraction between us, or at least my on-again, off-again reaction, but now isn’t the time for me to dwell on what.
The club manager, who introduced himself earlier, walks over to me. He takes in the situation at a glance and groans. “Shit.”
I frown at the man. “Did you have anyone keeping an eye on this room and the women’s belongings?”
He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we didn’t. People could have come and gone all night.”
This is why a bodyguard is often only half of the equation. Obviously, nobody was paying for investigative services. They just reported the initial threat to the police and hired me.
“Call the cops. Now.”
I glance at Summer, who has pulled herself together and is watching the interaction between us. “Do you think they’ll find anything helpful?” she asks as the manager steps aside to make the call.
“No.” My gut tells me they won’t discover prints that will lead to a culprit.
Just everyone and anyone who had access to this room, which is the entire club.
A couple could have snuck in here for a quickie and the girl fixed herself up after.
Anything could have happened in here in between the time of the act and when we walked in.
“The police will be here soon,” the manager says.
I glance up at the ceiling, looking for signs of video cameras and finding none. “I don’t suppose you have cameras covering the room?” I ask the other man.
“No.” He shoves his hands into his pants pockets. “Look, I need to greet the cops when they show up.”
I incline his head. “Go. But you need to rethink your security,” I mutter, disgusted with the situation.
For the next few hours, the police come in and handle things, talking to the employees who had access to the room, questioning Tawny and members of her entourage, but overall, informing Summer and me they’ve come up empty.
There are too many people in the club to bother fingerprinting the area, and Tawny and her friends deny having done anything wrong.
The cops document the incident, but there is nothing more they can do.
Summer looks ready to collapse from exhaustion, and I turn to the cop in charge. “I’m taking Ms. Michelle home. If you need us, you have her information.”
“Go ahead,” the officer says.
I pull out my cell and call the driver, asking him to meet us at the front of the club.
Then I turn to Summer and meet her gaze, the first time we’ve been alone since the moments on the dance floor. Soft black smudges looked like light bruises beneath her eyes, makeup and exhaustion combining to cause the vulnerable look.
I brush a gentle knuckle across her cheek. “Hey. Are you okay? Because I’m not going to let anyone near you. You know that, right? You’re safe.”
She nods, gazing up at me with wide brown eyes.
“I’m really fine. I just don’t understand why anyone would be desperate for me not to win.
Other than Tawny, who cares?” She bites down on her lower lip.
“Do you think she’s capable of this? Because I don’t want to think that someone I know could do something like that.
I mean, I know she’s ambitious, but this is crazy. ” She gestures to the mess behind her.
I groan. “I honestly wouldn’t rule her out.
She’s caused trouble for you before. You believe she’s the one who turned you in to the producers hoping they’d let you go and she’d have one less person to compete with in Star Power.
” I raise an eyebrow. “Which means she’s incredibly competitive and determined to win. At all costs.”
Summer sighs. “At least I have you. And I trust you to take care of me.”
Her words are humbling and they mean something to me. I don’t take them, or the job I was hired to do, lightly.