Chapter Two
Carter
I stood there for a minute, looking at the spot she just left. The slam of the door still vibrated in my body, and I couldn’t help it.
I smiled.
Fuck me, she was magnificent. Underneath the makeup, and all polished, ready for the stage look, she had this raw, fierce, almost overpowering kind of beauty.
The kind that kept you on your toes and stole your last breath at a single glimpse.
Sure, it was on her face, but it mostly lived in her eyes.
Just one look at her grey-blue eyes, and I knew I was going to have my hands full.
There was no way Harley Thorne was going to hand me the reins, stay back, and let me make her safe.
I’d stood in the shadows of the stage during her concert almost like I was the stalker, and not her bodyguard.
I watched as she moved across that stage, noticed how fluid her movements were, how easy she smiled and laughed, how her eyes almost twinkled as she looked on at her audience.
I became mesmerized every time she swung her long, brown hair over her shoulder and out of her face. I soaked up her husky laugh.
She was on the shorter side, but her muscles were toned. It was obvious she worked out. And with the amount of jumping, running and dancing around the stage that she did, it was clear she worked out hard.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” Tim’s voice snapped me back to present, his face twisted. I was positive he was trying to be intimidating, but all he managed was to look constipated. “Shouldn’t you go after her? You clocked in the moment she came into this dressing room.”
“She’s safe here.” I scrubbed a hand over my head. “She’s covered in this building.”
Even as I said that I went in search of the little spitfire that was my new client. I didn’t have to look far.
She was standing just outside the door, her back against the wall, her head tipped back, and her eyes closed. I watched as her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Why are you here?” she gritted out, turning her head and looking at me.
I could see the turmoil swimming in them, turning them more grey than blue.
I slowly took a step closer, and mirrored her position on the wall. “To keep you safe.”
It was a bullshit answer; she deserved to know the real situation, but I also didn’t want to freak her out too much. Until I had at least some of the answers, I was keeping silent.
She tilted her head down, her eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not sure I like you.”
It was if the words were just for her, not intended for me to hear them. But, I did.
“I’m not here to be liked. I’m here to keep you breathing.”
Her eyes flashed, and she pushed from the wall, turned, and came toe to toe with me. She was short, and I tilted my head down to look at her.
She watched me closely, thoughts racing behind her gaze that she locked firmly on mine, but she kept her silence.
She caught the meaning of my words, but couldn’t put her finger down on what the threat was.
As I watched the scenarios rushing through her head with each new thought darkening her gaze, her skin went from flushed to pale, I realized this wasn’t her first dangerous situation.
Suddenly, Harley stilled completely, her lips parted and she blinked up at me. I slowly lifted my hand, to do what I wasn't sure, but she sensed my movement and took a step back. It was a clear indication of not wanting the contact, so I dropped my hand back down.
She flicked her gaze to both sides before she shook her head, her brown hair getting in her eyes. She pushed it back with one hand, squared her shoulders and sneered at me, “I don’t need a guard dog.”
I tracked our surroundings with my gaze slowly, and knew she was doing the same.
There were at least a hundred or so people milling around.
Not all of them were vetted by the label who was responsible for this tour.
There were press, groupies, and fans. It was clear no measurements of safety were taken beyond the bare minimum.
My gaze went back to her face and to the eyes that still held a storm in them. Even with the small amount of time I spent in her presence, I knew those eyes had the power to pull me in and hold me captive for eternity.
“Did you hear me?” She scowled. “I said, I don’t need a guard dog.”
“You will,” I answered simply.
She arched her brows. Then, she turned and walked away from me again.
I didn’t follow her this time.
I caught the eye of a man standing in the shadows and jutted my chin. He can take care of her until she was ready to come to me. I will stop at nothing until I keep my promise and keep her safe.
***
“What do you think?” Chace asked in my ear.
“It’s too early to tell,” I muttered into the phone, my eyes going over the fifth video of Harley's concert.
I’ve been at this for hours. I’ve watched every second of Harley Thorne’s last five concerts, trying to find… something.
Anything.
It was clear Harley was the whole package. It was no mystery why she was on a fast track to become one of the great ones.
She was not only beautiful, but stunning. Her eyes were mesmerizing even up from the stage, and a video.
But her voice. Fuck me, her voice.
It pulled you into her, holding a power over you, until you were kneeling before her in the hopes of her gracing you with one look into her eyes.
I could see why she was on a fast track to the top, leaving everyone in a trance. I could also see why she became a fixation of a sick fuck, who took her lyrics, her music, and her existence way too personally.
That troubled me.
Those types usually started slow, sending letters, or leaving comments under the social media posts. Then that turned into sending gifts.
Gifts then escalated into visits, or in the case of celebrity concerts, premieres where they made sure to make their presence known. They did anything to be acknowledged by the person.
Then it spiraled, progressed into break ins to see where the person of their fixation lived, to immerse themselves into their most personal space.
After that, the full-blown stalking came. Once they didn’t get what they wanted or needed from a person who was their center of attention, it came to an end. Not, however, by them finding a new pastime to occupy their mind.
No, the end was never pretty, and it always made your blood turn cold.
The problem was, with Harley, there was no natural start, to call it that. There was no logical progression.
The threat came out of nowhere, and it became full-blown with step three and four occurring a week ago. They were in her home. They also left a shit ton of stuff, from stuffed animals to jewelry and lingerie.
None of which Harley knew. And she wouldn’t find out just yet.
The label wanted her to be focused on her tour. I wanted her to breathe easy for a few more days until she trusted me enough, and until I could have at least a few answers for her.
But there was nothing that either of us could see.
“I don’t like this.” Rustling came over the phone, and I could hear Chace moving. “Alina is pretty freaked out. She wanted us to take Harley and hole up in the cabin. Even ranted about me reaching out to Dante and see if his old contacts were crackling.”
Alina, Chase’s woman, was a good friend of Harley’s. That was how I got into this gig.
Alina came to my door a month ago, scared out of her mind because she overheard Tim talking on the phone with the label and words like Harley, threats, and safety were thrown around. When she asked Tim what it was all about, he tried brushing her off.
What he didn’t know was that Alina came from the Family. The Italian kind that didn’t take no for an answer. Sure, she walked out when she was young, and she never had anything to do with it, besides the blood ties, but she grew up in the thick of it, and she picked up a thing or two.
Needless to say, Tim spilled the beans, and Alina came to me.
Once Tim caved and informed the label of the level of fucked up shit that was happening, it took all of thirty minutes for them to demand my ass in their offices. However, they didn’t want to sign off on the security, much less the level I provided in the fruitless hope of things calming down.
Then a week ago, Alina came to Harley’s apartment and found it destroyed. Everything was destroyed apart from her bed and his gifts.
After that, the label changed its mind. But the demand stood firm. Harley was to be kept in the dark, and her only focus was to be the tour. There was a lot of money riding on the success of it, and they weren’t going to jeopardize that.
I was torn. On one hand, the client needed to know the level of danger they were in. I couldn’t keep them safe all on my own. Their cooperation was needed. On the other hand, I didn’t know what I could tell her.
Not just who was doing this, but I couldn’t find the logic in it. I couldn’t even begin to guess their next step. If I couldn’t do that, I had nothing . Before I let Harley in on everything, I needed a game plan she could follow.
“I don’t like it either, but there’s nothing I can find. And trust me, man, I went through every frame you gave me, every file. There’s nothing.” Stretching back in my chair, I checked that the door to Harley’s room was firmly closed.
As soon we got into this hotel suite, she marched right over to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Just as she did for the last four days.
When she wasn’t trying to sneak out, that was.
“Is she still trying to shake you off?” Chace asked as if he was hearing my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I said, the mental image of Harley sneaking through the suite, then smiling that cat ate the canary smile when she thought she was successful in getting away unnoticed, until it all came crashing down when I came and got her at the club or restaurant she was in.
The woman couldn’t spot a tail if her life depended on it, and she always had one. I made sure of it.
“You still letting her get a few hours of freedom?” Chace pushed.
“Yeah, but that has to stop.”
“She won’t like it,” Chace warned.
“She’ll like it less when I come and pick her up like she’s a teenager out past her curfew. Not to mention escorting her out like she’s a fragile figurine.”
Just then, the door opened.
Harley came out with a stubborn look on her face. “I have to go,” I said into the phone and hung up.
She headed for the door, swinging her bag over her shoulder, before she stopped, looked over her shoulder and said, “Suit up, Warden, we’re heading out.”
I almost smiled. “Warden?”
“Well, you have me locked up, or find me anywhere I go and drag me behind locked doors.” She shrugged. “It fits.”
“And where are we going?”
“Out. I need to feel tonight,” she said cryptically before she once again was on the move.
Hell.
It was going to be a rough night.