Chapter 27 Finn
twenty-seven
Finn
My phone rings and I fumble at the nightstand to silence the tone before it wakes Rosie.
She stirs, rolling toward me and nuzzling into my chest, and I scoop her closer.
After two days in LA, it’s safe to say my favorite location is underneath the sheets for the simple fact that it’s one of the few places we’re guaranteed to be alone.
I flip the phone over to check the caller ID, and Drew’s name lights up the screen.
My stomach jumps, and I carefully extract myself from Rosie’s sleeping form to roll out of bed, drag on a pair of sweats, and move into the master suite living room.
Marissa, the protection officer on the morning shift, gives me a nod of acknowledgment from across the room, then steps out into the hallway when she sees I’m about to take a call.
“Drew?” I answer. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a location for the user posting those social media comments you’ve been monitoring,” he says without preamble. “Sorry it took so long. I didn’t want to resort to other means while the client was safe and out of sight at your ranch, but now you’re back in LA, we’ve had to be more direct.”
The subtext is clear. I’m not stupid enough to use the words “illegal” and “hacker” in this conversation, and right now I really don’t care. The fact that Drew took this risk at all means I’ve had a reason to be worried.
“And?” I ask.
Drew sighs. “He’s in Los Angeles.”
“Fuck,” I curse, then louder again. “Fuck.”
“Yep. That’s all we have now, so be vigilant.
Don’t take unnecessary risks. I’ll brief the team myself, but I’ll instruct them to continue to defer to you while they’re on the ground.
And now that we know our suspect is in the city, we can start combing the place for his physical whereabouts. He won’t evade us much longer.”
“Thanks, Drew. I appreciate you taking this seriously.”
“It’s what Jack would have wanted,” Drew replies. “I’m only doing what he would have done.”
I fall quiet, thinking how this conversation might have gone if it were Jack on the other end of the line instead of his brother.
I might have helped him through the darkest moments when we were serving together, but if I’d been there for Jack when he really needed me instead of guarding Rosie in New Orleans, my world would be very different right now.
Maybe she wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be having this discussion at all.
I clear my throat, and Drew seems to sense some of my struggle because he falls quiet before he says, “That’s all I’ve got for now. Reach out if you need anything and take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call, check the time, and decide against going back to bed.
It’s tempting to get back under the covers and delay my worry for another hour, especially knowing how warm and sweet Rosie tastes when she’s waking up, but it’s nearly seven a.m. and I want to review her schedule.
My head was already spinning with the commitments she’s supposed to keep this week, and after a wild day in LA yesterday, I’ve got a clearer idea of how messy things can get.
And now I know her stalker is out there somewhere waiting for his moment.
I can’t relax until I’ve found a way to keep Rosie out of his reach.
Rosie wanders from the bedroom less than an hour later, draped in my red flannel, pale legs bare, blonde curls wild, and cheeks pink.
I lift my head from where I’m hunched over her printed schedule at the dining table, pen in hand, and do a double take at how much she looks like the woman who climbed down the ladder of my loft for the first time all those weeks ago.
Yesterday she was a smoke show in designer heels and cosmetics.
This morning she’s making my blood race in a worn cotton shirt and bare feet.
How is it possible that one person can fit so perfectly in two entirely different worlds?
“Hey.” She comes to stand behind me, draping an arm around my neck and kissing my cheek before she rests her chin on my shoulder. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I had a call from Drew.”
Rosie goes still at my side, then sits herself across from me. “What’s wrong?”
I considered keeping this from her, arguing with myself that there’s no point scaring her when there’s nothing she can do to help, but I promised Rosie I’d always be honest with her, and this isn’t the kind of thing I’d hide well anyway. And she has a right to know.
“The team got a hit on the location of the user making all those hideous comments about you on social media.”
“Mistr_ess_el?” she asks, her voice too steady to be natural. “Mr. Stanley Lowe?”
“That’s right. I’m sorry, Rosie, but he’s in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, God.” Rosie’s breath escapes in a quivering exhale. “He’s here?”
“It looks that way,” I say grimly. “And that changes things.”
The color drains from Rosie’s cheeks, leaving her ashen, and I get up just so I can lift her off her chair, settle myself onto it, and tuck her onto my lap.
Her chest moves in short, shallow rises and falls, and her hands are clamped together in her lap.
I pry them free to twist my fingers around hers, hoping my warmth will transfer quickly.
“I can’t believe he’s here,” she whispers. “I’m so… so…”
“Scared?”
“Yes, I’m scared. I’m also angry.” She curls against me and turns her face into my bare neck. “I hate this.”
“Me too, Songbird. I hate it so fucking much.”
I rub her back in soothing circles, waiting for her muscles to loosen, and when her breathing slows into a more natural rhythm, I reach for her schedule and twist it around so she can see the notes I’ve written in blue ink across the black-and-white printout.
“We need to cancel your appointments for today,” I tell her, pointing at the engagements with her hair stylist and her beauty team.
“And delay your meeting with the label on Monday morning. We’ll stay here, lay low for the next twenty-four hours, and hope Drew has more information in a few days.
Even if we don’t, your television appearance might still work out.
I’ll reach out to the studio for more information about their security protocols.
If they’re not good enough, we’ll cancel your guest spot too. ”
“Hang on a minute.” Rosie pushes against my chest, staring at me with confusion in her red-rimmed eyes. “I’m not canceling anything.”
“What do you mean? Of course we’re canceling.”
“No, Finn. We’re not. I can’t and I won’t.”
“Rosie,” I say, panicked at the determination creasing her forehead. “Think about it. The guy’s psychotic, and this comeback tour that Pia’s organized puts you right in his hands.”
Rosie fidgets with the hem of my shirt. “Not necessarily.”
My arms tighten around her, like if I hold her close enough, I can keep her here until she sees reason.
“Yes, it does. She wants you to be seen. Isn’t that what she said?
She’s deliberately tipping off the press over the next week or two so there’ll be pictures of you looking good and moving on from him? ”
“It’s my job, Finn. One of the more frustrating parts of it, yes, but that’s the way it is. And I trust Pia. She knows what she’s doing.”
I shake my head, unable to hide my distaste for the whole concept.
My rage is easier to disguise, but it’s there.
It may be the way the entertainment business works, and Rosie seems to accept the interest in her personal life as par for the course, but the whole treating-Rosie-like-a-commodity approach makes my blood steam.
“Mistr_ess_el already knows where you are, Rosie,” I say, desperate to make her consider the risks from my point of view.
“All he needs to do is follow the paps to get ahead of your next location. We don’t know what he’s capable of, and he might have more than a knife this time. It’s too dangerous.”
Rosie slips off my lap with a sigh, taking the chair beside me and my hands into hers.
They’re trembling, but I get the impression she’s trying to soothe me and not the other way around.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand why you want to handle it the way you do, but we need to come up with a different strategy.
I’m not hiding from anyone. Not anymore. ”
“It’s not hiding,” I protest. “It’s… It’s…”
She drops her head to one side and reaches up to brush my cheek. “It’s hiding.”
“Okay. It’s hiding. So what? We were hiding at Silver Leaf for three weeks, and that was pretty great, wasn’t it?”
Her mouth tips up at the corner and she leans in to kiss me.
“It was wonderful, but it was also temporary, and being back here in LA, making plans with Pia, who really gets me, knowing how keen my label is to hear my new music… I’m excited, Finn.
For the first time in a long time, I feel energized about what’s next.
I’m finally in control of my own life, and I’m not prepared to give that up so soon after I found it again. ”
My heart drops as my yearning to give her everything—safety as well as confidence, security as well as courage—gains the upper hand over my terror.
I brush a thumb across her bottom lip, then her cheekbone, the color starting to come back into both, then lean in and kiss her softly.
“I don’t want to jeopardize any of that, but I need to keep you safe. ”
She latches on to my wrist, holding my palm against her jaw, and closes her eyes briefly.
“But, Finn, I need to be the me I want to be, even if some days it’s hard.
You’ve shown me it’s possible to trust my instincts and not allow myself to be pushed around by a man who scares me.
It doesn’t matter if that man is Chip or a music exec or a pap on the street or…
or a deranged fan who goes too far. I need to be brave enough to say no.
No, I won’t be weak for you. No, I won’t run from the hard things. No, I won’t let fear win.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. But that doesn’t make me wrong.
“Songbird, I get it. I do. And I’m so damn proud of you.
You’re smart and you’re strong and the whole world should know it, but this thing with your stalker is about more than proving what a powerhouse you are.
It’s about your safety. Possibly even your life.
I can’t send you into the world knowing there’s a very real threat out there. ”
Rosie blinks, eyes trained on mine, and I appreciate that she’s thinking about this, and when she doesn’t argue right away, I feel a glimmer of hope that I’ve persuaded her to see things my way, but then she shakes her head.
“No,” she says. “I’m not letting him win. Tell me what we need to do to make you comfortable with sticking to Pia’s schedule, because that’s what I want to do.”
“Rosie…”
My protest stalls on my lips, and I drop my head.
I’m not used to saying out loud all the complicated things I think and feel inside.
Once the words are out there, there’s no taking them back, and then when the worst comes true, there’ll always be a record that once upon a time, before my heart broke into a thousand pieces and life once again proved that bad things happen more often than good, I was stupid and na?ve and arrogant enough to believe I could have done something to avoid the inevitable.
“What is it?” Rosie shuffles closer and ducks her head to meet my eyes. “You can say it.”
“What am I supposed to do here?” I straighten my spine and square my shoulders, needing to feel more in control than I am.
“If you were my client, I’d have no choice but to do what I’m told, but I love you.
You want me to trust your judgment, and I do, but I don’t think you understand what’s at risk here.
If anything happens to you, I won’t survive it. ”
“Oh, Finn. Nothing is going to happen to me.” She crawls back into my lap and balls herself against my chest. “How do we make this work for both of us?”
I hold her tighter against me, inhaling her hair that smells less like rose petals and more like coconut. New shampoo, I suppose, to go with her new soaps and lotions and perfumes.
“Two extra protection officers at all engagements,” I say, the words rough with the defeat caught in my throat.
“There are to be no other clients at any of your appointments today, and only bare minimum staff. At any confirmed sightings of your stalker, we return home immediately. No arguments or negotiations. You can hate me later, but at least you’ll be alive to do it. ”
Rosie is quiet for a long moment, and when she does speak, her voice is low. “Okay. We’ll do it your way, but I really think it’ll work out fine. Nothing is going to happen on a busy LA street, and he won’t get past security again. We’re ready this time.”
I stroke her hair and try not to let all the examples of things not working out in my life dim the gentle hope in Rosie’s words.
“I can’t stop living because the world doesn’t look quite the way I want it to,” she adds, reading my mind and overcoming my protests with her innocence. “Everything will be okay as long as I have you.”