Chapter 23 #2
A photographer collapses to the ground in front of me, his body flat against the pavement. The lens of his camera tilts upward, seeking the shadows beneath my hemline. My stomach turns as I realize what he’s hunting for—an invasive angle no woman should have to endure.
“Hey!” I try to step back, but there’s nowhere to go. “What the hell are you—”
And then, out of nowhere, a hand reaches down and grabs the shameless photographer by the collar, hauling him up off the ground like he weighs nothing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The voice is familiar. Furious. “You’re fucking disgusting.”
Taio.
He’s here. In Atlanta. Standing in the middle of my nightmare, holding a paparazzo by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving puppy.
“Who the fuck are you?” someone shouts.
Taio shoves the photographer away and turns to face the crowd, his body shifting automatically into a protective stance between me and the cameras. “Her bodyguard.”
His eyes find mine and for a moment, everything else falls away. The flashing lights, the shouted questions, the hands reaching for me—all of it fades into background noise. There’s just Taio, looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
Then his gaze drops to my waist.
The waist that Grayson’s still wrapped around like a python with a vendetta.
“Let her go.” I’ve never heard three words sound more menacing. Even Grayson’s ego doesn’t want to stand up to the hulk-fire burning in Taio’s eyes. Grayson releases me.
“We don’t need you tonight,” Grayson seethes. “In fact, you’re dismissed.”
Taio’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes flash with a cold, lethal quality. He turns to Grayson, and when he speaks, his voice is dangerously calm. “You may not need me. She does. What the hell are you doing? You brought her into this shark tank, and now you’re what—letting them feast?”
Grayson puffs up, clearly not used to being challenged. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a perverted fuck on the ground trying to take photos up her skirt, and you were just standing there posing. You’re supposed to be protecting her, and instead you’re—what? Checking your reflection in the cameras? What kind of man are you?”
“I don’t know who you think you are—”
Taio’s jaw flexes as he steps forward, his shoulders squared. “I’m her bodyguard. That means I’m paid to care when someone puts her at risk.” The space between them shrinks; he seems to wilt under Taio’s gaze.
“I don’t control this circus, man.”
“Sure you do. You led them right to her with your location tags and your thirst-trap photos. You might as well have sent out invitations, and now you’re posing while that creep tries to violate her.”
“That’s ridiculous—”
“Is it?” Taio’s voice rises, cutting through the noise of the crowd.
“How the hell do you think I found you guys? Because I tracked you here using your Instagram stories. If I could do it, so could every other bastard with a camera and a grudge. You wanted attention so badly you didn’t care what it cost her.
These are just cameras. What if someone showed up with worse? Do you ever fucking think?”
The paparazzi have gone quiet, sensing drama better than any tabloid story. Cameras are still flashing, but the questions have stopped. Everyone’s watching.
Grayson’s face has gone red. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back off. Charlie is my girlfriend. And you are now fired. This is none of your business.”
Taio doesn’t flinch. “Let me be abundantly clear. There will never be a time where her business isn’t my business. Get what I’m saying?”
Grayson balls up his fist, the veins in his forearm bulging.
The crowd murmurs. Someone actually gasps.
“Oh yeah, tough guy? Come on. I’ll give you the first swing. But you better kill me. Because when I swing, you die.”
Standing there, they’re like two different species.
Taio’s shoulders block out the light of the cameras, his frame hewn from intimidating strength.
Grayson, with his cardio-sculpted gym physique, suddenly looks like a child playing dress-up.
If fists start flying, there won’t be a contest—only a reckoning.
“Taio, please don’t.” My fingers find his forearm, just a whisper of contact against his skin. I glare at the crowd surrounding us. “Would you guys please give us some space?”
They don’t budge.
For a moment, I think Grayson might actually swing at him. His fists are clenched, his jaw tight, his whole body vibrating with suppressed rage. Instead, he turns to me. “Charlie, let’s go.” He holds out his hand.
The paparazzi erupt.
“Charlie! Who is this guy?”
“Are you and Grayson breaking up?”
“You let your bodyguard act like this and keep him on payroll?”
The questions come from every direction, overwhelming, inescapable. I feel myself starting to spiral, the old familiar panic rising in my chest. This is going to be everywhere. This is going to be the only thing anyone talks about. My reputation, my career, everything I’ve worked for—
“Charlie.”
Taio’s voice cuts through the noise. He’s standing in front of me now, his back to the cameras, blocking me from view. In the eye of this hurricane, his gaze finds mine—an impossible calm.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go. I know you’re scared about what happens next.” He takes a breath.
“Taio—”
“But I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending.
I don’t want to be the secret you’re ashamed of.
” His voice is steady, certain. “I’m getting rid of everything that comes between you and me.
My father, my past, all the bullshit I’ve been carrying—it’s done.
And if you want me, I’m right here. If you want me to go”—he glances at Grayson—“I can do that too. What do you need from me?”
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “There are cameras everywhere,” I say with tears in my eyes.
He holds out his hand, palm up, an offering. “What do you say, Tweety? You want to do this for real?”
The flashes are blinding. The shouts are deafening. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to be careful, to think about the optics, to protect myself from the inevitable fallout.
But then I look at Taio—really look at him.
And it’s so fucking obvious.
I reach out and take his hand. Fingers laced. The intentional kind of hand-holding that’s unmistakable.
The crowd explodes. Questions, flashes, chaos from every direction. But I don’t hear any of it. All I hear is Taio’s sharp intake of breath, all I feel are his fingers interlacing with mine, all I see is the smile breaking across his face like sunrise.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks. I give a small, sure nod.
He breaks through the crowd, removing human beings like they are merely branches in the way of a new path.
His body shielding mine, his hand never letting go.
Cameras follow us, shouts chase us, but none of it matters.
We push through to the street, where a taxi is waiting and then we’re inside, the door slamming shut, the noise cutting off like someone hit a mute button.
For a moment, we just sit there. Breathing. Processing.
“You had the forethought to plant a taxi?”
Then Taio turns to me, and his expression is somewhere between wonder and disbelief. “No. I went in there with no plan. It was a lucky break.”
We collapse into laughter, the tension draining from our bodies.
Outside, camera flashes strobe against the windows like lightning in a storm, but inside this taxi, we’ve found shelter.
Almost. In the rearview mirror, I catch the driver’s wide eyes darting between us and the mob scene surrounding his vehicle, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, probably wishing he could eject us.
“That was—”
“Childish? Reckless? A little over the top?” he fills in.
I place my fingers against his lips, hushing him with a gesture. “That was like a scene from one of your books. Like a fairy tale.”
“Fairy tale?” he echoes, confused. “I just blew up everything. Your face is going to be everywhere tomorrow. They’re going to find out who I am…and what I’ve done.”
“Yeah, they are,” I say, my heartbeat steady, my head cool.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie. Do you have any idea what’s about to happen? The headlines, the speculation. They’re going to start talking and never shut up.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Let them.”
“What?” he asks again.
The words surprise me even as I say them. But they’re true. For the first time in years, I genuinely don’t care what the tabloids say or what the internet thinks or what Sage is going to scream at me tomorrow morning.
I chose him. In front of everyone. And it feels like the first honest thing I’ve done in months. Maybe the first really honest thing I’ve done in my whole life. I just told the world where my loyalty lies, and damn does that feel good.
“Charlie.” Taio cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “There’s more coming. I have something I need to tell you. About my father. About—”
“Later.” I lean into his touch. “Tell me later.”
“But it’s important. I don’t want any more secrets between us.”
“I know.” I press my forehead against his. “Me neither. And I want to hear it. All of it. But we have bigger fish to fry at the moment.”
He looks worried. “Being?”
“Well the world feels very big right now. And I have a massive penthouse in downtown Atlanta that came equipped with everything except—”
“A fort.”
“Exactly. We’ll deal with the shitstorm tomorrow. Tonight it’s just you and me and nothing between us—no lies, no secrets…”
“No clothes?” he asks.
I give him my most serious look. “Oh clothes are most definitely not invited.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he nods, pulling me close, wrapping his arms around me like he’s afraid I might disappear. “You could do better,” he tells me. “You know that, right?”
“Taio.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me now.”
His arms envelop me completely, a shelter against everything outside this taxi.
When our lips meet, the cameras vanish, the shouting fades.
The world beyond our fogged windows ceases to exist. It’s just his heartbeat against mine, the warmth of his breath, and somewhere above the chaos, stars bearing silent witness to the start of something more.