16. Maisy
16
MAISY
Someone’s pounding on the front door so hard, the hinges might come loose. There’s only one person, besides Jensen, who would be angry enough and strong enough to bust through a door to get to me.
Two large, blurry masses appear through the beveled glass, which must be pretty thick to have not shattered. I swing the door open to discover the angriest pair of whiskey-colored eyes ever pinned on me.
“You have the code to unlock the door,” I say in greeting, annoyed that I had to abandon my comfy spot on the couch.
“Explain this.” Marcus wags the rigid finger aimed at my face.
This is the problem with sharing your cell phone location with so many people.
Judge punches him in the shoulder. He’s the more sympathetic of the two Ames cousins and has much better people skills even though he doesn’t speak.
The men served in the military before they became Tatum’s personal security team five years ago. Whatever happened during their final deployment caused Judge to stop talking. When Marcus isn’t speaking on his behalf, Judge types notes on his phone to communicate. But around our smaller group, he uses grunts and gestures, which we’ve learned to interpret after spending every minute of every day together.
Other than the matching eyes, shaved heads, and hulking size, the two giants couldn’t be more different. Marcus’s pristine russet complexion and crisp clothes reflect his personality. Poised and perfect, aside from the silver scar in his left eyebrow. Judge, on the other hand, has colorful tattoos covering most of his tawny skin. He also has tears clinging to his thick, curly lashes as he looks me over. Big crybaby.
“ Let me through.” Tatum’s demand comes from behind the men blocking the doorway before her slender hand slips between them. I’m not a fan of the distraught expression on her face when Judge steps aside. “Maisy!” She yanks me into her arms and squeezes too tight.
“Ouch,” I murmur into her hoodie.
“Sorry.” Sniffling, she releases me. “What the heck happened?”
“Good question. Everyone, get inside,” Marcus barks.
“Sir, yes fucking sir,” Jake mumbles as he trails in behind Tatum, earning a deadly glare from Marcus. These two don’t get along. At all.
“Watch it, pretty boy. It’s not too late to?—”
“Can you two stop?” Tatum shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “Geez! You’ve been at it since we left California. You both need a time out.”
I leave them to their bickering and settle on the sectional where I was watching TV and replaying the words good girl in my head before they showed up. Of all the things Jensen said to me and did for me last night, I’m hung up on being called a good girl .
A feminist like me should balk and tell him to take that shit somewhere else, but I’m only human. And humans have flaws. Apparently, my flaws include being turned on by the prospect of becoming Jensen Holloway’s good girl. I’ll take that particular secret to my grave.
When Judge sinks down beside me on the couch, his weight dents the cushion and forces me to tilt in his direction. He offers me a tentative smile, and I pat his arm to let him know I’m okay. The others must’ve realized we ditched them, and they join us in the living room, everyone taking a seat except Marcus. Like an agitated lion, he paces back and forth on the other side of the coffee table. I’ve never seen him this upset.
“Not a single phone call,” he says, sending me a scathing look. “Unacceptable.”
“Marcus.” Tatum softens her voice to calm him down. “Go easy on her.”
“When you don’t stick to the schedule, I need to know. You came back early without telling anyone.”
Exasperated, I release a heavy sigh. “I’m not the job, Marcus. Tatum’s the job.”
“This isn’t about a fucking job!” he yells, spreading his arms wide. His eyes widen too, like he’s as shocked by his outburst as the rest of us. Marcus never loses his cool and rarely shows he cares. “This”—he jabs a finger at everyone except Jake, who’s scowling—“is the closest thing we have to a family. And as the head of this family, I need to know where everyone’s at and when plans change. Then we show up here to find you looking like this?”
He waves a hand toward me and shakes his head. Some would describe his facial expression as fatherly, but I’ve never seen a more disappointed or pissed-off father.
“Tell me who I need to kill,” he adds.
Tatum jumps to her feet and approaches him with caution to rub his back. “Hey. She’s okay. Take a breath, and tone it down. Let her explain.”
Judge snaps his fingers at Marcus then gestures at me.
“Fuck.” Marcus hangs his head and takes a deep breath, then he sits stiffly in a chair because of the permanent stick up his ass. His rigid posture vanishes when his concerned gaze meets mine again. “I’m sorry, Maisy. I should’ve asked if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Just got knocked around a bit in a dark alley.”
“Jesus,” Jake groans. “Don’t joke about this, Maisy. We’ve all been worried. When Jensen refused to give us details, Marcus spent the entire night moving our travel plans up by a day. The man hasn’t slept, and neither has Tate, because you wouldn’t answer your goddamn phone.”
My gaze travels from Marcus’s exhausted face to Tatum’s distressed one. On top of her finding out she’s pregnant, she and Jake got engaged. This should be a time to celebrate my friend. Instead, she’s here, staring at me through teary, bloodshot eyes.
I’m such a jerk. Why is it so hard for me to reach out and ask for help? Or to believe people care enough to worry about me? The least I can do to alleviate their worries and make amends is open up about the incident.
“I really am okay. The paramedics examined me, and the police took a statement.”
“Did they catch the guy?” Marcus asks.
“No, but a witness saw his face.”
Judge nudges me with his elbow, drawing my focus to the question in his eyes.
“No. He didn’t try anything like that,” I say, reassuring him with a pat on his knee. Everyone releases a collective breath, and their relief soothes my hardened heart while burning my eyes. “Y’all, it was a classic mugging. Attempted. He tried to take my bag, but I refused.”
“Always let go of the goddamn bag!” Marcus yells, riled up again.
I respond with equal fire in my veins. “No! It’s my bag, Marcus! Some asshole doesn’t get to take it from me because he feels like it.”
His jaw hangs open in disbelief, then he scoffs and mutters, “So damn stubborn.”
“What about the project? Does Marzan know what happened?” Tatum asks.
“Marzan can go screw himself. Ass-grabber,” I mumble, crossing my arms.
“He touched you?” The vein bulging in Marcus’s temple threatens to burst. “I’ll kill him.”
“You can’t kill everyone on my behalf, Marcus.”
Judge shrugs a shoulder and grunts as if saying watch us do just that .
Tatum’s phone buzzes in the front pocket of her sweatshirt. It’s been going off since they arrived. She accepts the video call and hands me the phone. “It’s the other Cali boys.”
A dramatic gasp comes from Miguel, who’s way too close to the camera. “Who soiled my angel’s perfect face?”
“It’s just a few scratches, Miggy. My face will heal.”
“Oh, thank god. I was ready to buy you a mask!” he cries.
Graham steals the phone because we never know what will come out of Miguel’s mouth. He’s worse than I am in tense situations. We navigate uncomfortable seas on a high-powered jet ski of sarcasm and inappropriate humor, which most people find offensive.
“Maisy,” Graham says, his tone thick with worry. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” I force a smile and announce to the room, “Everyone, I’m fine. Don’t ask me again.”
I’m not the least bit fine, and Marcus’s narrowed gaze calls my bluff. He misses nothing.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Jake asks, his eyes wide with incredulity. “Someone hurt you, Maisy.”
“I’ve already processed what happened. Let’s put it behind us.”
They gawk at me like I’ve sprouted a few extra heads. Perhaps I’m in shock, and my mind isn’t ready to accept what my body already knows. I was assaulted…twice in one day.
“So what happens now? If you’re off the project, what’s next?” Tatum’s been gripping my trembling hand this whole time. Bless her for not exposing my anxious state to the rest of the group.
Graham reminds me of our living situation. “We only have the house for two more days. Are you coming home?”
He’s referring to California as my home. Despite living there for nine years, it’s not. In truth, nowhere has ever felt like home to me. But he poses the million-dollar question. Where will I go? With no work lined up, and Tatum moving back to Walford for good, that leaves me and the four Cali boys. I love them with my whole heart, and I know I can find other projects in California, but I don’t have to live there to work there.
Plus, there’s the Vera situation. She needs help, and as much as I don’t want to be the one to suffer alongside her, she doesn’t have anyone else. I won’t leave the burden of her care on Jensen’s shoulders. He’ll run himself ragged trying to do everything. The problem is, I cannot live with Vera. Apart from getting my own place, I’m low on options. Unless…
“Can I stay in your room at Pam’s?” I ask Tatum. “I assume you’ll be living with Jake now.”
“Hell yeah, she is,” Jake says.
Tatum’s jaw drops. “You want to go to Walford ?”
“Not at all. But I need to. Vera’s having health issues, so I’ll stick around until I can get her sorted.”
“Are you sure?” This comes from Graham, and when I glance at the phone screen, the smirk on his lips makes me want to hang up on him.
“I’m sure.”
“This is a mega decision, but I think you’re making the right call. I’m mega proud of you.” He winks at me and laughs at my best effort to scowl with a scabby face.
“You two with your secret code language,” Tatum says. “I swear you were identical twins in a previous life.”
She hates not knowing what’s going on all the time. Graham and I will carry an inside joke for months just to mess with her because she’s so adorable when she gets mad.
“Some lady has walked by three times since we sat down,” Jake says, staring out the window.
Judge springs from the couch and peeks through the blinds. Whatever he sees, he shares a look with Marcus and nods, then they both look at Jake with similar, odd expressions that resemble a modicum of respect, until Jake opens his snarky mouth and ruins it.
Shrugging at Marcus, he says, “What? Someone has to do your job.”
“He has a death wish,” I whisper to Tatum. Her bulging eyes ping between a fuming Marcus and a smirking Jake. “Marcus is gonna kill him before your wedding.”
Miguel’s voice chimes through the phone’s speaker. “I don’t handle blood very well. Angel, call us later.”
“I will.”
The call disconnects just before Marcus pops. “Judge!” he barks. “Get Tatum and this asshole back to Walford. I’ll stay here and drive with Maisy tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I’m staying.” The warning glare he levels me with leaves no room for argument. Sighing, I nod, aware his reprimand is far from over.
At the front door, Tatum says, “Come see me as soon as you get settled at Pam’s. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
“She won’t mind?”
“Of course not. She loves you like a daughter.”
Judge motions for Tatum to raise her hood, then he escorts her out the door.
“Glad you’re okay, Maisy,” Jake says, tossing me a wave before he follows them.
As soon as they’re gone and Marcus shuts the door, he turns on me and loses all the poise he carries in front of the rest of our group. His shoulders drop six inches when the tension leaves him.
“You scared me to death.”
I circle my arms around his waist. He should be comforting me, but he’s the one shaking.
“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come to Philadelphia.”
“Honestly, I think I was in shock. I had to get out of there.”
He pulls back and has a closer look at my face. “Swear to me the guy didn’t try anything.”
“I swear. It was a mugging. That’s all.” With my cheek buried in his chest, I tease him. “Head of the family, huh?”
Chuckling, he says, “I don’t know where that came from.”
“Well, it’s true. You keep us in line.”
“Obviously not.” A long exhale flows out of him. “God, baby girl. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called you.”
Marcus and I share a special bond no one knows about. Early on, when the cousins first started working for Tatum, he and I stayed up late one night after watching a movie and everyone else had gone to bed. For whatever reason, we opened up to each other.
Something tragic happened to his sister, though he never shared the exact details, but she’s the reason he became overprotective, hyper-diligent, and closed off. After the night we talked about our siblings, I became the little sister he misses dearly, and he became the older brother I wanted Logan to be.
“Will Tatum hate me if I bury her baby’s daddy?”
“I think she will.” I laugh when he sags in defeat. “Give him a chance. I know he acts like a spoiled child most of the time, but he loves her more than anything. And he’s honestly a good guy.”
“Fine. He lives another day, but he owes you a life debt.”
Still locked in our embrace, I say, “This hug has gone on long enough.”
“It really has. But I was so worried about you. Promise me you’ll never put me through that again.”
“I promise.”
We let go of each other, and Marcus drops onto the couch like the weight of the world has become too burdensome to carry. He’s been our Atlas for so long, and we often take him for granted.
I curl up next to him and tuck my legs underneath me. “You should take a break. With Tate moving back to Texas, you can finally chill out and enjoy being with Roni,” I say, waggling my eyebrows at him.
Marcus and his girlfriend, Roni, have been together for a few months. He’s a different man around her—a softer man—and she offers him a slice of normalcy he couldn’t have as a celebrity’s head of security.
He kept Tatum in line for years, a challenging feat with everything she put herself through. Endless tours, endless fans, and endless self-destruction. It’s been a nightmare I’m more than happy to see come to an end. We all are.
“I might. The clubs and parties aren’t doing it for me. Feels like I’m taking ten steps backward. Going from high-risk security to a bouncer with a hand stamp.”
“Find your happy place, Marcus. You deserve it.”
He smirks at me. “You first, baby girl. I hear you’re in for a mega good time in Walford.”
“Ugh! Graham and his big mouth!” I hit Marcus in the head with a throw pillow, which does nothing to stop his laughter. But I let him laugh because he doesn’t unwind like this often, and the sound brings a much-needed smile to my face.