Chapter 18
LOCKE
The women I prefer are never boring. I guess that’s my type. Sienna came in and stirred things up, as usual. But she wildly underestimated her opponent this time. Arden proved it even further when she noticed Luke Holloway walk in.
She didn’t hesitate, just slipped into the crowd, with a sly smile and those sharp eyes, moving toward him like a lioness stalking her prey. I should have known she wouldn’t wait for me to be ready or give her the go-ahead. Of course she’d go straight for the kill.
I could have used a moment to recover from all the bullshit seeing Sienna stirred up in me, but here we are.
I force myself to stay calm on the surface, even though I’m already unraveling inside. I watch as she “accidentally” trips, spilling a fresh drink on his perfectly tailored suit. His eyes turn from annoyance to predatory lust as soon as they land on her face.
Within minutes, they’re laughing as if they’ve known each other for years. She touches his arm, leans in, and whispers something in his ear. He gives her a wicked smirk in return.
I watch as he places his hand on the small of her back as they continue their conversation. The same way I did as we walked in. That gesture alone sends fire raging through my veins. Then, his eyes drag down her body, and I want to break something. Preferably his face.
I can’t do this again. Watching them flirting from across the garden, being powerless to stop him from saying, or doing, whatever he wants to her. It’s giving me a sick sense of déjà vu that makes my stomach churn.
Before, it was Sienna; I watched him use the same practiced charm to dismantle what we had, piece by piece, until she was a shell of the woman I once knew and wanted nothing to do with ‘someone like me’ any longer.
Those words were a turning point. In that moment, I decided never to let another woman make me feel like who I was, at my core, was something to be hidden.
I also haven’t had a serious relationship since.
It seems that Luke has a twisted instinct for finding a woman who catches my eye and making her his prize.
He doesn’t even need to know her name to know he wants to take her from me.
It’s a calculated game where he doesn’t just win; he ensures I lose.
That’s how I know this plan, this job I’ve given her, will work.
Keep it together, Locke. Don’t make headlines tonight.
But my feet are already moving. I can’t let her stay near him for another second. I snatch two drinks from a passing server, not even caring what’s in them, and cut across the garden. My heart is a sledgehammer against my ribs as I close the distance.
As I come up behind them, Luke grins down at her, absolutely shameless. “You’re easily the most captivating person here. You should join me at the after-party. My place. It’s going all night.”
Arden’s lips curve, sweet as poison. “Tempting, but I don’t usually follow strange men home.”
He leans closer; his voice is so low I have to concentrate to hear it over the rest of the crowd. “Trust me, sweetheart. You won’t regret it.”
Before Arden can reply, I step in. “She’s busy.”
Luke’s eyes dart up, irritation flashing before it melts into a satisfied smirk. “Locke, it’s been a while.” His gaze drifts between us. “Didn’t know you’d brought a date. Not really your style, is it?”
I bare my teeth in something that hardly feels like a smile. “I guess tonight is full of surprises.”
I glance over, and Arden’s glare is sharp enough to kill.
Luke chuckles, slick and dismissive. “I guess so.”
His eyes flick to her again, gauging her reaction, and he smiles to himself. “Well, when he’s done playing bodyguard, Arden, call me. I’ll be waiting.” He winks at her, then slithers back into the crowd like the snake he is. Walking past everyone else as if they don’t even exist.
The second he’s out of sight, Arden whirls on me, eyes blazing. “What the fuck!” she hisses, barely keeping her voice down.
“I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes like you were just a piece of meat.”
“Díos mio, Locke.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You let that moment with Sienna get to your head, didn’t you? We aren’t together, and just because I’m working for you doesn’t mean you own me. I was just playing their little games!”
Her voice dips lower at the end of that sentence, like she’s worried someone might overhear.
“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To get close to him?”
She’s right. I told her to do this, and to gain his trust.
Maybe I should have mentioned that he’s not the only man I was hoping she’d get close to.
I cut that thought short before I let my imagination go too far. This whole situation is getting messier by the minute. I’m not sure she wants to be standing next to me, let alone ‘getting close’ to me, right now. I’m not sure I should want that either. Could it ever really work?
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I just know what he’s capable of, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Her laugh comes out bitter. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. I’ve been doing it for a long time, and I’ve dealt with guys a hell of a lot scarier than that asshole.”
Even though I know she’s still underestimating what Luke is capable of, I believe her. The way she says it makes me wonder exactly how much of her past I don’t know. How much she’ll never tell me.
“I get it. I won’t intrude again. You’re not going anywhere near his place, though. I know what happens at those parties, and I won’t let you walk into that house of horrors.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I will and will not do!” she hisses, attempting to shove me away. It’s a cute effort, but I take hold of her arm instantly, pulling her in close.
“Don’t I?” I murmur, leaning in. “You’re my employee. You said it yourself.”
“Employee, not property,” she shoots back, baring her teeth. “What I do off the clock is none of your concern.”
Her defiance is intoxicating, a wildfire I have no business trying to tame. But a shadow in my peripheral vision reminds me we aren’t alone, and Luke isn’t the only one that might be watching. I know better than anyone that nothing good comes from making a scene at an event like this.
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re never off the clock with me,” I mutter. “You’d do well to remember exactly what’s at stake.” I finally release my hold on her arm, and my hand feels noticeably colder the moment we break contact.
She avoids my gaze as she adjusts her dress and mutters something about needing the restroom. She’s still playing her role, but I’m reeling.
Watching her leave, I realize with a sinking gut feeling that I’m not just worried about Luke taking her in a romantic sense. I’m worried about what might happen when I can’t be there to protect her and what he might try to take when he gets her alone.
When she returns, we both stay quiet. I know she’s upset about my interference, and I won’t push her any further.
Sitting down for dinner is a special kind of torture; her assigned seat is directly next to mine, while four other guests sit around the table with us. None of whom I know on a personal level.
The table feels much smaller than it looks.
Each tiny movement we make is met with the subtle pressure of her shoulder or elbow brushing against mine.
That, paired with the rhythmic clinking of silverware on porcelain, the heavy scent of roasted meat and red wine, and the loud, forced chatter in the confined space, is almost unbearable.
I’m being pushed to my limit, and I haven’t even reached for my fork.
In the background, the director of the foundation speaks. His voice drones on, a dull and bleak soundtrack to my growing exasperation. He says something about their “mission and vision” that I’m only half paying attention to.
Instead, I’m captivated by the way the chandelier light glints off Arden’s necklace as she eats.
Every time she tilts her head, the diamonds catch the light.
It’s a subtle and cruel reminder of how brightly she truly shines and makes me wonder how many other eyes in this room might notice that same sparkle.
Each speech is harder to get through than the last. Although she still hasn’t spoken, Arden’s presence is heavy, and the familiar tension around us is becoming suffocating. She turns slightly to sip her water, and her arm grazing mine sends a shock shooting up my spine.
“You look like you’re about to break something,” she whispers. The words are so hushed they’re almost lost in the applause for a local donor. She doesn’t look at me, just keeps her eyes fixed on the stage with a polite smile plastered to her face.
“I’m fine,” I mutter back, but my jaw is so tight it aches.
“You’re brooding, Locke. It’d be clear from the back of the room.” She finally cuts a glance toward me, her eyes flashing with a mix of continued defiance and concern. “Let it go.”
I don’t answer. She turns her attention back to the stage, leaving me to simmer in silence again.
When it’s finally my turn to speak, the stage actually feels like an escape. I step toward the podium, relishing the cool, floral-scented air. It’s a relief from the heat of her presence beside me.
I stare out at the sea of faces, delivering the same polished speech I’ve given a dozen times before. I talk about the kind of legacy I want to leave and responsibility to the community. My voice comes out smooth, even as my eyes instinctively scan the crowd for Luke’s shark-like grin.
I find him near the bar, watching not the stage, but the table I just left. Watching Arden.
The polite applause barely registers as I make my way back to my seat. I feel detached, like a ghost in my own body. Hollow and entirely too focused on the woman sitting just inches away.
The rest of the night is a blur of handshakes and thank-yous. Arden acts the part of the perfect date, doling out polite smiles and compliments.
She goes silent again on the trip home, but I can feel her watching me.
The car is a dark, quiet sanctuary after the sensory overload of the gala.
The streetlights flicker across her face in rhythmic pulses of color and shadow.
I look over, and her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just tired.
She gives me a faint, uncertain smile, like she’s trying to bridge the gap I forced between us earlier.
I nod and pat the leather seat, motioning for her to scoot into the space beside me.
She hesitates for a heartbeat before sliding over.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her firmly against my side.
She rests her head on my chest, her hair smelling like the night air and the expensive perfume she wore for another man’s benefit.
We stay like that for the rest of the drive, the silence finally softening.
I don’t understand this girl, not even close. But as I tighten my grip on her shoulder, I realize I’m starting to care for her a little too much.