Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MAIA
W hen I get to my car, I don’t know if I should be annoyed that Gatsby didn’t ask me for a ride to his office or thankful that he kept his distance.
I drive to the offices of Global GAAM where a helicopter waits for me.
It flies me to the hangar, where his jet is ready for takeoff.
If I didn’t hate him, I’d be impressed by the way he figured out how to help me before I even hung up with my sister.
This is one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
He’s a protector, and even though I was pretty independent in college, he was there, holding my hand in case I needed him.
I miss that about our relationship. The way he looked after me.
He wasn’t overbearing, but he was caring of me, more so when I was put in a social situation that was new to me.
My first college party was scarier than a horror movie, but I was okay because he was there for me. It wasn’t that I had never been to a party in my life, but there’s a huge difference between a party where booze, drugs, and sex are the primary source of entertainment and my family’s parties.
Those are loud, filled with Latin music, and dancing. My mother’s family is a Cuban-French-German combo, while Dad’s family is from Mexico. There’s not a dull moment during any celebration, but drugs and sex…well, that’s a scene I wasn’t accustomed to at eighteen.
I wish Tiggy had met someone like Gatsby. I can’t forgive his betrayal, but I can admit he’s a good man.
When I board the jet, I send a quick text to him.
Maia: Thank you again for this.
Gatsby: Is there something I can do?
Maia: No, but thank you for the offer.
Gatsby: I want you to know that I never wanted to make you feel unsafe. Driving you to your house was stupid, and I’m sorry.
Maia: I might hate you, but I know I’m safe with you.
Gatsby: Always, I promise.
Not that my heart will be safe, though. He’s a playboy, a Casanova who sleeps around with every woman in the tech circles. I’ve seen several headlines of him linked to different women, sometimes within weeks of each other. I always believed he was different, and he proved me wrong.
This last encounter should give me closure. Maybe the next time I’m on a date, I’ll be more willing to have a second date, even a third.
The flight attendant comes over. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
She points at my phone. “We’re about to take off. You have to turn it off.”
I send a quick text to Tiggy telling her that I should be there in two hours.
Ninety minutes. I spend ninety minutes staring at the window, contemplating the beautiful view from above, and thinking about Gatsby Spearman. That doesn’t spell closure, does it?
How could I not when he made sure to have chocolates, chips—and not just any chips, kettle sea salt chips—on board. My favorites. Why did he do it? And as I eat all the snacks I haven’t eaten in a long time, I keep thinking about him and touching my lips, which are still burning from his kiss.
Damn Gatsby Spearman and his noble gestures and caring personality. I hate that you don’t let me hate you in peace.
When I deplane, there’s a black SUV waiting for me. A man around his late thirties, dark hair. He’s standing next to it wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, observing me.
I turn on my phone, and as soon as it has reception, a series of texts come through.
Gatsby: When you arrive, Lloyd Grant will be waiting for you.
Gatsby: Lloyd is a bodyguard, by the way. I just want to make sure you’re safe while dealing with Bram.
Gatsby: Before you get upset, yes, I did some research.
Gatsby: You should be landing soon. Text me so I know you’re okay.
Gatsby: By the way, Lloyd is driving a black SUV.
I try not to smile, but I do. When I step closer, I say, “Lloyd Grant?”
“Maia Ocampo?”
“That’ll be me.”
He salutes me and walks toward the passenger door, opening it. “Let’s head to your sister’s house. I already have a detail there, making sure that Mr. Johnson doesn’t break into your parents’ house.”
“How do you know?”
“HIB doesn’t take a case without having information about our client. We want to be ready to protect Ms. Taygete Ocampo.”
This doesn’t make much sense. “Watching over her? I just need to make sure she’s safe—today.”
“Do you mind getting in the car so we can drive to La- Jolla? The traffic at this time of the day can be unbearable.”
“Of course.”
Once I’m in the car, he says, “Well, her ex-husband is outside your parents’ house.
You need to file a restraining order—we’ll help you with it.
In the meantime, it’ll be safer if she has a detail.
I have plenty of experience with cases like this, but if she feels more comfortable with a female bodyguard, we can find her one right away. ”
My gut clenches, and I wish someone were here to hold my hand and assure me that Tiggy will be okay.
“I don’t know if she’ll feel safe with you or any other person. She doesn’t want to be around anyone nor alone.”
He nods as he continues driving. “It’s hard to trust,” he says, his voice a little distant.
We ride the rest of the way in silence. I’m lost in my thoughts. My wild imagination fears the worst. What if we arrive and he broke in? What if she’s so overwhelmed with fear that she leaves the house and he attacks her?
When I spot my parents’ house, my hands begin to sweat. When we park, I jump out of the car, ignoring Lloyd’s warning—he insisted I stay in my seat. I run toward the door, and that’s when I hear him. “Where is my wife?” Bram’s slurred words don’t scare me, but I’m scared for my sister’s life.
I turn to look at him. He’s so different from the fit, clean-cut detective I met five years ago. His beard needs a trim. He’s skinny, and his dark eyes have a spark of nastiness I never noticed before.
“Bram,” I say his name between clenched teeth. “Leave, or I’ll call the police.”
“You can call them. I haven’t done anything.”
“You did. You almost killed my sister,” I say, fire in my voice and anger in my blood. I want to claw his eyes out and make him pay for what he did to her.
I never had the chance to be this close to him once I found out what he did to my sister.
This is my chance to make him pay. If I could, I would kill him with my bare hands and…
I don’t do anything because there are other ways to make him suffer.
I’ll figure them out. All I need to do right now is ensure that he doesn’t get close to Tiggy. I have to focus on her safety.
“Leave,” I insist.
“I never did anything to Taygete. Those were lies she spewed. She destroyed my career, but I’m willing to forgive her if she comes back to me.”
“Get out of here,” I growl. I’m losing my patience.
“Sir, we’re going to ask you to leave the premises,” Lloyd speaks with such a cool tone, anyone would think he’s offering some refreshments to Bram.
“Don’t fuck with me, or you’ll regret it,” Bram threatens him.
Lloyd smiles. “Please, I can’t wait for you to throw the first punch,” he says, so excited I’m confused.
Bram’s face turns red, and he throws the first punch.
He doesn’t reach Lloyd, who stops him, twisting his arm.
I hear the crack of bones. My eyes close immediately.
I can’t handle that sound—it freaks me out.
When I open them, Bram is on the floor, fighting Lloyd’s hold.
A couple of men approach us. “Take him into police custody.”
“This won’t hold. I’ll have your badge.”
Lloyd laughs. “Good thing I’m not a cop.”
“They’re going to let him go,” I say.
“Doubtful. He’s wanted in Arizona. The idiot is out on parole, and he violated it. He left the state. He’s drunk and carrying a firearm.”
“He had a gun?”
“Sure, didn’t you see it?” He winks at me.
“Of course I did.”
“Why don’t you go and check on your sister? I’ll stay outside.”
“Thank you for taking care of him.”
“It’s my pleasure. I wish someone had been there for my mom when this happened to her,” he mumbles.
My heart hurts for his mom and every woman who’s been a victim of men like Bram.