Chapter 1 Bunny #2
They started slowly, one every couple of weeks. Then weekly. Now, here we are. I thought ignoring them would make them stop, but I guess that isn't the case.
"Who can I tell? I've already spoken to Andy, and he's been monitoring the cameras for any suspicious activity. They can't plant any in here without causing an uproar for good reason."
She gives me a look, like the answer isn't obvious. If the casino's head of security can't help me, I need to go over his head. Management. The people who run this place are the same people who sit at our tables and blend in with the other gamblers.
Smoke and Ace. The bikers with the Steelwood MC patch against their back.
"I've heard horror stories with stalkers and stuff," Rue continues, carefully picking up the rose in my locker. It's more thorny than usual, and she almost pricks herself. "You think it's one of our regulars or..."
My sudden grimace says it all. It has to be a worker. Someone who doesn't draw any attention by slipping back here. Just knowing that makes me feel even more defenseless. It's someone I could pass by every day without ever knowing twice that they have bad intentions.
I can flirt all day with customers and make them feel special, but I don't think I've talked to any of my workers that way.
Maybe I have in passing without meaning to.
My personality at work is like a switch.
The moment I'm clocked in, I'm this version of me.
I don't turn it off until I'm out of the building.
"Go talk to one of them," she encourages as she snaps the stem in half before tossing it into the trash. "If you don't, I will. Even if they're really scary, they seem to care about the casino enough to care about those who work here, too."
She's right. I know she is, but I'd never thought something like this could happen to me. I've heard stories, too, about people seeking them out for help, but I never imagined myself filling that kind of role. The one who needed some kind of figure watching over them to feel safe.
"Okay..." Sighing softly, I make an attempt to shake my nerves, but fail. "I'll talk to one of them."
Giving my shoulder a squeeze, she steals my empty tray so I don't have an excuse to prolong this any more than I already have.
It's almost laughable, really. I have the excuse to approach Smoke, but I barely have the confidence to do so.
I don't want the man of my dreams to see me as some fearful, weak person.
"Thank you. Can you keep this to yourself?
I don't want whoever it is to know I'm going to them.
As much as I want it to stop now, I don't want them targeting someone else instead.
" Glancing back at the note, I shred it into pieces without a second thought.
With the broken flower, all the evidence goes in the bin.
She nods, and I thank her. After I encourage her to get out there and make some money, I'm soon left alone to make sure nothing in my locker is missing.
My shirt and jeans look untouched, and my sneakers are still resting at the bottom.
Even my socks are still knotted together in the same way I always leave them.
Left alone, I allow a little frustration to slip through. Not wanting to ruin my eyeliner, I swipe at my eyes carefully to prevent them from watering too much and let out a little sniffle before composing myself.
Sometimes, in the middle of this act of mine, a few cracks show up. All I need is a second to patch them up, and I'm back to the way I need to be. Back to smiling. Back to treating every person here as if they hold a special place in my heart.
Suddenly, those cracks seem impossibly wide. Too large to conceal. Yet, I try anyway.
Once my locker is shut, I'm turning on my heel and moving in the direction of that Texas Hold 'Em game.
Nodding at the dealer, Will, I hover close enough to Smoke that his concentration is broken.
I barely even have to brush his shoulder with my fingers before he's jerking his head to look in my direction.
The grumpy expression that usually makes my stomach tighten and toes curl suddenly turns into a blank stare before he abruptly pales.
I don't think any of the cocktail waitresses make him look panicked like I do. Do I feel special? Sure. At the same time, it makes me always want to grab his arm and cling to him so he can't bolt.
My goal was to wait for them to finish their game so I could pull him away without risking any loss to him. I try to tell him that, too, in a hushed voice so I don't bother anyone else. My smile tries to form, but it's awkward. My breathing matches.
He notices, his panic shifting as his eyes narrow.
I don't get time to ask for a conversation. He's already tearing his eyes away.
"I'm folding." Flattening his cards against the table without hesitation, he ignores the sudden huff from the other side of the table, from his brother Ace, and stands, letting his chair scrape. He's less caring toward the others.
Once he's up, I'm momentarily distracted by how big he is. Despite being younger, he's taller than most men I know. There's still a gruffness about him that continues to shock me that he's only in his mid-twenties.
Maybe that's why he's not attracted to me. Most who look my way are in their forties or older.
Now's not really the time to question myself about Smoke's taste, is it?
I don't realize he's taking me by the elbow until my feet start moving. Smoke never touches me, but now that his fingers are on my skin, I'm forgetting why I'm upset in the first place.
Just being in the vicinity of this man makes me feel safe. He makes me warm, too, from the flush that's already spreading across my skin.
"What happened? Who's giving you an issue?
" Without an answer, he's already scanning the casino like something big and bad is going to jump up and take claim to being my nightmare for the last couple of weeks.
Once he sees nothing's out of the ordinary, he's returning those ocean-blue eyes in my direction.
My heart is going rogue in my chest, pounding away as he looks at me in a way he's never done before.
He does a quick scan down the lace of my corset before lingering on the netting around my legs. His throat bobs with a heavy swallow before he blinks, his gaze shooting back up when seeing I'm physically okay. No wounds or signs of distress.
Once more, I'm lost in my favorite shade of blue. I don't think I've ever looked into his eyes for this long. Do they always look this stormy? I'm so used to seeing hunger in others that the absence of it in his eyes always throws me off my game.
You can do this, Bunny. Just ask him for help.
"So... this is probably going to sound silly..." Dragging my words out, I find myself squirming under the weight of his stare.
Telling Smoke that I've got a stalker has me acting out of character, acting more like my true self.
I don't know if it's the way his brows slam down at the mention of going to Andy once before, or the way he stiffens up when I start mentioning the "gifts", but I'm fidgeting and playing with my fingers, looking at my hands more than at him as I get everything off my chest.
"I don't know what to do," I continue softly. "I don't think this problem is going to go away on its own. What I need is for whoever to understand that I'm not interested, you know?"
The only eyes I want following me all the time are the wave-clashing ones staring down at me now. The only man I want, the only one I'll ever want, is Smoke.
He only looks grumpier, but he nods. "You don't have anything your boyfriend can give you to make it clear?"
My brows lift in surprise. "Oh. Oh, no. I don't have one of those." I pause, registering his words. "Wait, that's a great idea."
While I'm brewing out the idea in my head, I don't miss the way his expression falters. Maybe we're sharing the same thought.
If I had someone play the part, then yeah, I could persuade them to leave me alone. If Smoke is playing the role... He could protect me and play out my fantasy all at once.
Reaching out, I wrap both of my hands around one of his and squeeze his fingers.
I don't miss how calloused they are, or the faded scars on his knuckles made during his free time.
Meeting his gaze, my heart thuds faster.
As heat starts to crawl up my throat, the fear in my veins starts to be replaced by adrenaline.
"Tell me we're thinking the same thing right now. "
Smoke looks between the sudden smile on my lips before flicking down to look at where I'm touching him. He's back to looking nervous as he looks back up. "We are?"
"I don't have a boyfriend, Smoke. Not a husband, either. Well, to fix that, I need one, right? My stalker won't know the difference between a real relationship and a fake one." Squeezing his hand tighter, I can already see the realization of what I'm starting to ask hit him.
Once more, he looks like he wants to book it. Maybe we're not on the same page, but fuck it. I've already put the idea out there.
Right now, I'm not going to give him the chance to run. Not when he can also resolve this issue if this stalker has a problem with it.
"It'll just be pretend. We've just got to play a little part, and that's it! I swear." Stepping closer to him, I'm thankful for the wall at his back. "You'll be more like a bodyguard than anything, just keeping an eye out for anything suspicious."
"A bodyguard and a boyfriend are not the same thing." He's stumbling on his words before I notice the flush on his ears.
Oh my God. Can I fall even more in love with this man?
Oh, but his words hit me right in the chest, deflating the sudden swell.
He's going to turn down the suggestion, isn't he? I don't think this man would want to play either role if I'm involved.
What do I have to do to make this man like me, even if just a little?
Pulling away, I release my hold on him and let out a defeated sigh. "You're right... I just... Rue got in my head a little bit. Maybe you could talk to someone else at the club and see if they're interested? I could say something to Ace or..."
I don't want to fake a relationship with anyone else. Honestly, I can just pay someone to watch over me so I don't get hurt.
That dark look of his is back at the suggestion before he lets out a rough sigh. Shoving his fingers through those dirty blond strands of hair, he looks up for a second before shaking his head. "I'll do it. Just until we find the bastard, alright?"
Woah. Did I just imagine him saying yes?
It takes a few seconds to register that he's actually agreed, and my body is moving on its own. Throwing my arms around his neck, I hug him tightly out of excitement. I even wiggle a little, doing a happy dance.
As expected, he freezes up instantly.
"I'm not good at this," he rasps, like I can't tell he's stiff as a board. "This is... new for me."
Playing a role, or dating? Assuming a man with such good looks has a little experience on his belt, I assume it's the former.
"Well, for starters, you could hug me back," I murmur against his front, seeking an excuse to feel his warmth surrounding me.
Despite being touched more times today than I can count on both of my hands, I could forget all about it if it were his hands on my body.
Just the thought of it has me sticking out my bottom lip, hopefully urging him to say yes.
"What in the hell are you getting me into?" Sounding defeated, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight enough to steal my breath away before sighing into my hair. Without even meaning to, he's making it easy to smile from ear to ear. A real smile, not the kind I paint on this mask of mine.
Finally, for the first time in weeks, I feel safe.