33. West
CHAPTER 33
WEST
Nora is quiet the whole way home. It’s not a short drive, but she keeps to herself and gives few answers. It’s past midnight in Europe, but Rafe is awake and calls us both within the span of five minutes.
I listen to her talking to her brother in low, consoling tones, reminding him of how good her security guards are and how safe she was all night.
It makes my knuckles whiten.
She’s taking care of others when she’s the one whose evening was ruined. I’m the one responsible, and it was my team who got an opportunity to catch him tonight. Half of them stayed there to keep scoping out the place.
Tonight, we made him more reckless than he’s ever been before.
But she’s the one who paid the price.
When we get home to Fairhaven, she’s still on the phone with Rafe. She walks the curved stairs up to the second floor landing, her voice calm and reassuring.
It’s another performance. I’m sure of it.
I stand there for a solid minute after she’s disappeared, thinking. Then I get to work. My head of security spends ten minutes debriefing with me. The entire night will be analyzed. Security camera footage hacked into, turned over, investigated. We’ve never gotten an opportunity this good before.
He blasted her phone and waited for her to pick it up before he said what he wanted to say. Because he’d been watching.
“We traced the number,” Michael says. “Burner phone.”
“His pattern is changing.”
“Yes, but he’s never had a pattern. It’s like the whole thing is deliberately meant to throw us off.”
“Keep me updated.”
“Always,” he says.
After he hangs up, I rest my hands against my desk, feeling its stability beneath my clenching fingers. I’ve hired some of the best people. People who won’t mind bending the rules if needed. But this stalker still seems to slip through our fingers like sand.
It’s too good. Too professional.
This can’t just be a regular guy who’s become unhealthily obsessed with a beautiful model. It’s a guy with resources.
There’s something I’m missing.
A puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.
And I’m going to figure it out.
The house is quiet. Most of the staff is home by now, except for security. And Nora didn’t get a chance to eat properly. I order food, and while I wait for it to be delivered, I make a call directly to the Fashion Institute’s auction.
That emerald dress will be hers.
I wait until the food arrives before going to find her. I walk up to her rooms on the second floor, down the long, long hallway from my own. It seemed like a brilliant move when she moved in, to give her the guest wing as far away from my own as possible.
As if space would have worked.
I knock twice. There’s no response, so I knock again, heavier this time. I shouldn’t have left?—
Nora opens the door, her phone tucked beneath her ear. She’s traded the long black dress for a pair of sweats and a tank top.
“No,” she says on the phone, her voice low and soft, “you don’t have to worry.”
My hand tightens around the bag of food.
Nora steps back, leaving the door open for me. “I’m fine, I promise.” She sighs quietly. “No, it wasn’t a close call. I was safe the entire time… No, Mom.”
I put the food on the living room table and watch her walk across the plush rug. Her shoulders are drawn up tight. “Rafe is keeping me safe, and so is West. His team is really good… No, no, that won’t be an issue. I promise. Please don’t worry.”
I hold out a hand.
Nora looks at me. “I can reassure her,” I say. “If she’s concerned about your safety.”
She hesitates for a moment, but then she nods. “Mom? West is here. He’s happy to tell you about the security team that’s—yes, exactly. Okay? I’ll put you through to him now.”
Her fingers brush mine when she hands me the phone. They’re cold as ice.
“Miss Beaumont,” I say. “It’s a pleasure to speak to you again.”
Her shrill, almost transatlantic accent fills my ear. “Weston?”
“Yes.” I’ve spoken to Rafe’s mother several times over the years. She’s a former actress—tall, willowy, gorgeous. After a disastrous divorce with the king of luxury, she flitted around Europe and terrorized her children, manipulating them to spend time with her on her terms. “I understand you’re concerned about Nora.”
“Concerned? I’m frantic,” she says. “The stalker got too close tonight. When Rafe called me, I nearly had a heart attack. He’s never been this close before.”
“The security team currently protecting your daughter is one of the best in the country, if not the world,” I say. “I’ve personally vetted every single guard assigned to Nora. There are two former Navy SEALs, a prior-service marine, and three men with extensive experience protecting high-level celebrities. All well-paid and good at their jobs. None of them take their responsibilities lightly.”
“Oh,” she breathes. “Okay. I like the sound of that. But what if the stalker tries to?—”
“She’s never alone.” I look at Nora. She’s watching me, her teeth digging into that full lower lip. “I’m never far away. If the stalker tries something, we’ll grab him. She’s not in any danger.”
“Good, Weston. Very good.” Lauren Beaumont gives a long, dramatic sigh. “She’s very lucky, having a man like you to protect her.”
I glance at Nora. “And I will. Whatever happens.”
“That’s darling,” she says. “I think I’m finally able to get some sleep now.”
“You do that. Nora will call you tomorrow.” I don’t give her a chance to respond before I hang up.
Nora’s mouth drops open. “ Hey ,” she says, but there’s no energy behind the affront.
“She’s fine. She’s been reassured. Now eat.”
Her eyes drift to the brown bag. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing.”
“You said you wanted a burger.”
She sits on the couch and rips open the bag. I take my time walking around her rooms. I double-check the windows. There are alarms installed at every entry point, but I make sure they’re all functioning too. Not taking any risks tonight.
“Aren’t you having any? There are two burgers in here,” she calls.
I finish my last check—at the nook in her sitting room that overlooks the dark ocean. “Does your mother always fret like that?”
“Yes,” she says with a sigh. “It was stupid of Rafe to tell her right away.”
I sit opposite her, and she pushes the other burger my way. I pick it up, turn it around in my hands. It’s still warm. “You had to comfort her.”
“Yes.” Nora eats a few fries. There are tired lines around her eyes. “She’s very emotional.”
“You shouldn’t have to comfort other people. Not on a night like this.”
“My mom is… well…” She sighs. “I had to make sure she was okay.”
“I know how your mom is. I’ve heard it through Rafe. But that’s not your job.”
She takes another bite of the burger. It’s nearly gone, and a dark satisfaction unfurls inside me at the sight. I don’t want her barely touching her lunch at shoots she doesn’t like doing. I want her here.
In my house, with me, eating whatever she wants.
“It’s the way things are. Rafe was concerned too.”
“They’re concerned, but that still doesn’t make it your job to comfort them.” I eat my burger and watch as she draws back into herself. Pulls her knees up onto the couch and tightens her hatches. It’s not another performance. But it’s something similar, a kind of withdrawal I know all too well.
“Yeah,” she breathes. “Well. It is what it is.”
“What do you really feel about tonight?”
Her eyes drift to mine, and then out toward one of the windows. “It is what it is. I had fun, before… that. Thanks for coming with me.”
“No. That’s not what you really feel,” I say. “You don’t have to comfort me. You don’t have to cater to whatever you think my feelings are. Tell me how you’re doing.”
“If you know me so well, why don’t you tell me?” Her voice is testier now, and my lip curves at the sound. Good.
“I think you’re scared. I think you’re frustrated. And I think you’re angry at having to spend an hour being brave on the phone with your family instead of being the one comforted. You’re the one who got those texts tonight. Not me. Not Rafe. Not your mother.”
Her eyes flash. “Maybe I feel all of those things, but what good would it do to say it?”
“Do you need to box again? Because I’ll get the gloves right now if you do.”
“No, no, I just need…” She stands and wraps her arms around her chest. She walks over to the nook but turns immediately, pacing the length of the couch. “I’m frustrated. I’m annoyed. I’m… Not once did Mom ask how I was feeling. That shouldn’t be surprising, after twenty-four years.”
“Tell me , then. I’m asking. How are you feeling?”
“Terrible. We had to leave early.” She takes a deep breath. “All these security guards have to stand out in the cold because of me. I hate it. I hate all of it, and I’m angry at whoever he is for making me do all of that.”
“Those are other people’s feelings,” I say. “Not yours.”
“I’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else’s feelings. I don’t even know what mine are anymore.” She puts her hands over her face and takes a deep breath. “I hate bothering all those people. I hate, hate, hate it.”
“Fuck inconveniencing others. It’s not your fault.”
“But it feels like it is, and I hate being a burden. I know I’m a burden to you.” She paces behind the couch. “Or at least I was, before we agreed to the whole fake dating thing. At least now you’re getting something out of it too.” Her voice rises. “And I hate that everyone seems to be looking at me, to see how I respond, in order to decide how they’re feeling. If I was upset on the phone with Mom tonight, she would have been catatonic with stress. If I told Rafe that I’m terrified , he would be on the next plane here instead of finalizing the deal he’s worked for years on.”
“You’re not a burden. Not to anyone.” My voice comes out low and harsh. “You’re allowed to be terrified.”
“I don’t feel like I’m allowed to be. Because if I’m not okay, others won’t be either… and they’ll make me feel bad for it.” Her chest rises with quick breaths. “I’m so angry at whoever is doing this for putting me in this position. I’m angry at myself for not being stronger. I’m angry at my brother for not including me in decisions, for still thinking he needs to protect me.” Her eyes well up, and she blinks that away. “And I hate that with this whole stalker thing, I’ve proven that he’s right. I do need protecting.”
“Good,” I say. “Get angry.”
She paces again, eyes blinking furiously. “I am. I’m furious that this man thinks he has the right to influence my life. The right to make me feel scared and unsafe. I hate that I can’t go for a run in the morning without guards, without looking over my shoulder. And you know what else?” She stops in front of where I’m sitting, her eyes blazing.
“Tell me,” I say.
“I’m tired of pretending to be so fine and strong about the whole thing. Tired of smiling and shrugging and saying ‘yes, isn’t it crazy?’ to downplay it, to say that the stalker is probably someone harmless. Because he might not be, and I spend so much time worrying about the situation being far, far more serious than that.” A tear tracks down her cheek. “He was in the same room as me tonight, West.”
My hand tightens at my side. “I know.”
“It’s terrifying. I’m terrified.” She closes her eyes, and another tear joins the first. “And I feel like I’m not even allowed to say that out loud.”
It takes me two strides to get to her. I cup her face and brush away one of the tears. Her summery eyes are a deep green, and they glisten in the lighting. “Listen to me,” I tell her. “You have every right to be scared. To be angry. To feel whatever the hell you want to feel.”
“Now I’m angry,” she whispers, “at how I always cry when I get mad.”
I pull her against me.
Her head finds the crook of my neck, and she’s warm, pressing against my collar. Something fractures a little inside me at her fear. She’d hidden it so well. I thought she was silly that first week. For taking the risks she did. Didn’t she understand?
But she did.
Of course she did. She always has.
“Good,” I say. “I like you angry.”
“You’re strange.”
“I’ll take it. Trouble, you don’t have to pretend. Not around me. Never around me.” My voice comes out fierce. I know what it’s like to live with crushing expectations. My solution was to remove myself from relationships altogether.
But I hate watching Nora get crushed under them. Bend over backward and play to an audience that doesn’t appreciate her true beauty.
“I’m getting your shirt wet,” she whispers.
“I have a hundred more. You’ve seemed so brave since you came here.” Her hair smells good. Floral. “Foolish sometimes, even, like you wanted to push the limits. Losing your guards in Central Park.”
“I didn’t mean to lose them that time. But I couldn’t tell you that. I was… I was trying very hard to be brave.” She takes a deep breath and pulls back a little to look at me. Her eyes are glossy. “I don’t want this man to stop my life, you know? I want to prove to him, to myself, to everyone, that I’m more than what they think of me. But that doesn’t mean…”
I stroke a thumb over her cheek again. There’s no tear this time, just soft, rosy skin. “It doesn’t mean you’re not scared.”
“Yes.” She whispers it like a shameful secret. She’s close enough that I can see her wet eyelashes sticking together. She’s not wearing any makeup now. Gone is the Nora I saw today on stage, in her lingerie, performing for the camera.
“It’s normal to be scared.”
“You’re never scared,” she says.
My lips curve. “And why do you think that?”
“You always seem so in control. Like tonight. You made sure we left, and you didn’t seem rattled. Even if you might be in danger because of this.” She swallows. “Because of me.”
“I’m not worried about myself. Don’t you dare be worried for me either,” I say. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And maybe…” My thumb brushes her lower lip. “You’re not the only one who’s good at performing.”
A soft breath escapes her, warming my thumb. It sends heat down my spine. I’m scared for you, I think. And I’m terrified that you’ll wreck me when you leave. When this is all over.
“Are you tired?” I ask.
“Yes. But I doubt I’ll be able to sleep much.” Her hand finds mine, fingers curving cautiously along my palm. Like she’s not sure the contact is allowed.
“Are you scared now? Here?”
“A little.” She looks over at her bed. It’s in the other room, through the open doorway, neatly made. Covered with a light blue coverlet. “Even if I know Fairhaven is safe. But I still feel…”
“Shaken. I get it,” I say. “Do you want me to stay with you here tonight?”