CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SEVEN
“Liam, it was a real pleasure meeting you today.” I stood from my office chair, extending my hand over the new, mahogany desk that had arrived a few days ago. Liam stood as well, giving me a firm handshake.
Our interview had gone well, and he’d passed the pre-interview background check with flying colors. I planned on hiring him immediately. My second new hire for the business, but the first one to occur within the walls of my new office, which I’d been putting together on the sly in my downtime.
“Likewise, Seven.” Liam cast me an effortless grin. He had something of a boy-band aesthetic to him; he could become an A-list actor if the close protection thing didn’t work out. “I appreciate you taking the time. I really like what you’re building here.”
I smiled as I came around the desk, heading toward the door of my office. I believed Liam, even though it could have been a line of bullshit.
“I hope you’ll consider joining Silva Security,” I told him, opening the door. “I’ll be sending over the paperwork later today.”
Liam tipped his fingers in a salute. “We’ll talk soon, then.”
I watched him stride through the sparse foyer of Silva Security, my new headquarters on the seventh floor of the Fairchild’s charity building, the one they’d dedicated to Kaylee and Jordan. They’d given me the entire floor to use as I saw fit, even though I’d only asked for the suite. And, well, none of them wanted me to have any other floor but seven. Of course.
Excitement and urgency spread through me in equal measure as I returned to my desk. There was so much to do still. So much to take care of. And you still haven’t even fucking told Jordan.
The thought haunted me more than I wanted to admit. In the beginning, I didn’t tell her because it wasn’t her place to know. I’d kept those lines drawn.
But now everything had changed. There were no lines anymore, just murkiness and poor decisions. I was in too deep, that was for fucking sure. Because now I was both dreading and celebrating the expansion of my business.
Liam or Chico would become my replacement. Exactly what I’d planned from day one, whether Jordan liked it or not.
And I already knew she wasn’t going to fucking like it.
But there were a few things she was doing that I didn’t fucking like either. So maybe this just leveled the playing field. My mouth turned downward as memories of her confession from that morning flooded me. I didn’t have enough vocabulary to express how much I disliked the fact that she gave out her phone number—even an unofficial one—to fuckwad Eli.
But she knows he’s a fuckwad, too. She’s just doing it for the money.
That rationale grated on me. Her safety came first. Didn’t she get that? There was no way to stop her from engaging with him that didn’t include full-on control, and that wasn’t my style. I could only protect a client as far as they’d allow it. I knew this. I’d lived it.
But I’d allowed myself to get way too intimate with my client. I’d fucked up. And now I was trapped in my own mess.
I huffed as I returned to the new hire process for Liam. I got together his paperwork, prepping the email with the formal proposal. But thoughts about Jordan kept cropping up, no matter how hard I focused on the computer screen.
The only way out of this mess was through. We needed to stick to the original plan. She needed to get her own place like she said. No matter how fun it was to play house, she wanted to move out, and I’d have to let her. Even though the thought made me queasy.
But what future do you see with her?
My confusion lay in the fact that I could see an amazing future with her; but it was roadblocked by all the snafus in front of us. Her brothers would never sign off on us as a couple, even if her protection was handled by Liam or Chico. And then if we did happen to find a way forward together…? I wasn’t sure I could handle cracking open my heart again. I wasn’t even sure there was anything left inside there after Olivia.
My frown deepened as I took care of a few administrative tasks I’d been putting off. My phone vibrated with a message.
AXEL: Hey Seven. Legs just picked up Jordan from the apartment for our celebratory fuck-you feast. You’re coming, right?
My stomach had worked itself into knots by this point, but the idea of attending their dinner—and coming face to face with Jordan—set my gut twisting even more.
SEVEN: I’ve actually got a lot I need to finish at the new office. Just met with a new employee. If I’m not too tired afterward I might swing by. Chico’s on hand tonight if you need him for anything.
AXEL: No problem. I hope we’ll see ya, but if not, I totally get it.
I pushed my phone away, my face dropping to my hands. Two days ago, I’d been in paradise. And today, nothing felt right.
My intuition was pinging, and it told me something I didn’t want to hear.
If you go any further, every day is going to be like this. And you know where that leads.
I stewed in the festering silence until my thoughts became so loud I needed an escape hatch. Deep down inside, all I could think about was the natural conclusion of this love affair: falling so deeply in love that I’d offer up my quivering heart on a platter, only for it to be shredded. I reached for my phone again and hit the speaker button, then speed dial. This was suddenly an emergency.
When Trojan answered, he sounded like he’d just been napping. “H’lo?”
“Hey, man. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Nah. I’m just in the spa.”
I blinked. “Like...a nail salon sort of spa?”
“Sorta. I think they’ve got one of those places over there.”
“Is this for you, or…” Some of my bad mood was lifting. All I could imagine was Trojan relaxing in a sauna by himself.
“Uh, sorta.”
“And you give me shit about being cryptic.”
“Listen, why don’t you tell me why you called first and then maybe I’ll tell you what I’m fucking doing at the spa,” he countered.
I laughed into my hand. “I don’t know. Why I called seems irrelevant now.”
“Bullshit. What’s up?”
“Nothing much.” I rubbed my hands together slowly. Where to begin? Everything felt so jumbled.
“Okay, great. Thanks for the chat. I’ll talk to you later—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Laughter edged my words. “I’m calling because…” I let out a sigh, rubbing my face.
“I already know why. I just want to hear you say it,” Trojan said.
“I just need some perspective,” I finally summarized. “Things have…progressed with Jordan.”
A loud groan ripped through the phone.
“You need a lot more than perspective, it sounds like,” Trojan said.
“I don’t know, man. It feels right with her. Like…indescribably right.”
“You fell in love this quick?” He sounded incredulous.
“I never said that.”
“I know how to read between the lines.”
I scoffed. “Whatever. My point is, things are intense. I made a bad decision even starting this, and now she’s making a dangerous decision that’s got me freaking out, and I just…” My words faltered, my throat tightening. I hadn’t shed tears over Olivia in years. But suddenly, I realized all my attempts to become a heartless monster had failed.
I still had emotions. I’d just bottled them up so tightly I’d forgotten they were there.
“Go on,” Trojan prompted.
“What if we do fall in love and then something happens to her?” My heart raced as I spoke, my mouth suddenly dry. This fear had lain quiet and slithering inside me since the second I saw Jordan and realized I needed to have her. “Like what happened with Olivia.”
Trojan’s voice was softer when he spoke this time. “Seven, dude, that’s not—”
“She’s putting herself in danger. I can be there alongside her. I know this. But I can’t prevent everything. I didn’t prevent what happened with Olivia. I wasn’t there. And I just feel like the closer we get, the better chance there is that something might…happen to her.”
“Dude. First of all, you falling in love with someone does not curse them to getting hurt or worse. I promise you. History’s not gonna repeat itself.”
“You don’t know that,” I told him.
“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know there’s no cause and effect there.”
I sniffed, inspecting my hands as I rubbed them together. “I know we can’t be together while her brothers are my employer. They made that clear. But I can’t keep myself off her.”
“You need space,” Trojan said.
“Yeah.” I needed it desperately.
“Assign her a different guard like you had planned,” Trojan went on. “That’s step one. Then stay busy. Focus on your business. You’ll figure out how to fix this once you get some space. Just don’t lose sight of the goal, my man.”
I nodded, trying to plant Trojan’s words so deeply they rooted and took over. I knew he was right. And part of the problem was that over the last couple of weeks, I’d secretly made Jordan my goal.
I’d lost sight of my real goals.
And that needed to change.
Now.