25. Chapter 25
SEAN
I KNOCK THREE TIMES, THE same pattern I've used since the beginning. The sound bounces through the empty hallway, sending my heart straight into my throat as I anticipate what comes next.
The door unlocks and she appears in the narrow opening. Her eyes dart up to mine for a fraction of a second before dropping away.
"Hi," she says. "Come in."
The apartment feels different since I was last here a few days ago. Heavier. Like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens.
Londyn moves to the couch and sits on the edge like she might need to make a quick escape. Her foot taps an uneven tempo against the floor— tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap . Her fingers find a loose thread on her sweats, pulling and twisting it into a tight coil.
"How's it going? Are you still feeling… sick?" I try to make my tone casual but it lands somewhere in the territory of awkward. I sit on the couch, leaving plenty of space between us.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Her voice is flat and missing the usual warmth.
I run my tongue over my front teeth, searching for words that won't make this worse.
I need her to understand, but I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses.
"So… We've been digging into those guys who were watching you," I say.
"We've looked at security footage from a few shops.
Mike's out trying to get more. Nothing so far.
It's like they knew exactly where the blind spots were. "
She nods, still focused on that loose thread. "Mike mentioned that."
Right. Because she's been talking to Mike, not me.
"I've emailed people I know. My contacts came up empty too." I clear my throat, pushing through the ice. "Could mean our guys aren't in any system or that I just need a better image. Some names."
Londyn is nodding mindlessly, her head bobbing up and down. She glances at me for a moment, and I'm struck again by how much I love her eyes. I love the way they hold secrets but still invite me closer, even in her distress.
She drops her gaze and starts picking at her fingernails.
I shift uncomfortably, moving my holster so it's not digging into my side. "So… There is some good news. We know Alan Miller is in South Africa. He might not be connected to our Navy Caps."
Her shoulders tense at the name, confirming there's history there. Bad history. When I had mentioned his name last week, she never confirmed anything about Miller. But her wilted body language says everything I need to know
Her head bobs as she gets a faraway sheen to her eyes, which are hiding behind large glasses again.
I lean forward slightly, with my elbows resting on my knees.
My fingers graze a candle sitting on the coffee table and I catch the berry scent.
"Considering we haven't seen those men again, it's possible they've moved on momentarily.
Sometimes when security becomes obvious, stalkers back off.
But I can't be sure they won't return. I only know they're laying low. "
Her eyes flick up to mine, then away again. Her voice squeezes each word out like she doesn't want to speak. "What does that mean? Are you… leaving?"
I let the question linger. I don't want to go, but I'm wondering if she wants that, considering how tense things are. Clients need to trust their bodyguards; I may have damaged that.
"Do you want me to leave?"
Her head snaps up, eyes suddenly wide with panic. "No!" The force of her reaction startles both of us. She pauses to collect herself. "No," she repeats, softer this time. "It has to be you."
A pang shoots through my chest. "You sure? I think I should arrange for someone else. Someone you might feel more comfortable with since I screwed things up."
"You didn't screw anything up. I… I was the one who was… inappropriate. I'm sorry. It's my fault."
That completely throws me. She's sorry? It's me who is sorry. I'm sorry because I can't stop thinking about her. I'm sorry because when she's near, I forget everything else. I'm sorry because professionals don't stare at clients and have filthy thoughts.
"You're the one who deserves an apology," I say. "I'm sorry for creating this rift between us and for how I handled things the other day. I should've maintained better boundaries and not given into my—" I clamp my mouth shut; it's best not to go there.
Londyn peeks at me from the corner of her eyes.
This isn't how I imagined this would go. Heat is thrumming beneath my skin again and these caveman urges are flaring.
I start again. "I need to keep you safe. That's my priority."
"I know. And you are. But—"
"No 'but.'" I cut her off, needing to get this out before I lose my nerve. "This job is important. You're important. And I can't do what I need to do if I'm distracted."
Her eyes widen as she reads between the lines: I'm distracted by you. By us. By whatever keeps happening when we're alone.
"That's why—" I pause, weighing my next words carefully. "That's why the other night happened the way it did. That's why I sent that text. I need to keep you safe, which means I need to stay focused. I can't afford to let anything cloud my judgment."
She hugs herself, a protective gesture. "I understand."
She says that, but I know she doesn't. How could she? She doesn't know about Wunmi or about what happens when I get too involved and care too much.
And I care about Londyn more than I should. I look at her and I want things I have no right wanting—her smile, her trust, a world where we're just two people who met at a bookstore instead of this mess of client and protector.
I'm so tired of wanting things I can't have. But that's life.
"I understand," she repeats when I've spent too much time in my thoughts. "I'll respect your boundaries. Just please don't leave."
The jagged pieces in her voice cut every defense I've built.
I want to tell her there's no way in hell I'm leaving.
Besides being committed to doing everything in my power to shield her, I can't stop thinking about running my fingers through her hair, tasting her lips, learning the sounds she makes when I discover what makes her feel good.
But I can't tell her that. It would only blur the lines further.
"You sure you still trust me?"
"I've never trusted anyone more." Her voice is steady now, her gaze more direct than it's been since I came over. "You doing your job as my bodyguard and… the other stuff… it's separate."
I wish it were that simple and I could compartmentalize as neatly as she does. This would be easier if I could put my role as her protector in one box and these feelings in another. But if there's one thing experience has taught me, it's that certain barriers can't be crossed or people get hurt.
People die.
The understanding of what I need to tell her cuts through my gut like shrapnel, threatening to make me bleed out. But she must understand why these barriers exist and why I can't cross them, even if the territory on the other side looks increasingly like home.
"There's something I think you should know." The words feel like gravel on my tongue. "About why I'm so rigid."
She waits with her palms open on her lap like empty vessels ready for anything.
But I'm sure she doesn't want this baggage.
Staring into the limitless depths of her brown eyes, my throat tightens and tries to stop me from continuing. I've never told anyone about Wunmi. Maybe it's time, even though it'll illustrate how I'm a giant fuck-up. I'm sure it'll tarnish Londyn's trust.
I clear my throat. "Around the time I worked for your coworker, I got hired as security detail for a singer named Wunmi."
Londyn inhales and I can see from her parted lips and the sudden creases along her inner eyes that she's heard of Wunmi, which means she already knows the ending to my story.
I clear my throat again. "She was like a sister to me. Found family, you know?"
Londyn nods, her eyes never leaving my face.
"We got close. I loved being with her, seeing her with her fiancé, joking around, feeling like I belonged.
" I rub my palms against my thighs, fighting against the memories trying to surface.
"I'm sure you heard about her stalker. Some guy who followed her tour and sent disturbing packages.
I was watching for him, but I got… distracted.
My time with Wunmi became too comfortable.
I started seeing her as family I wanted to hang out with instead of someone I was paid to protect. "
My throat tightens, but I can't clear it this time and my words are hoarse. "Did you hear what happened to her?"
Londyn nods as she presses a palm to her chest.
The words stick, refusing to move past the growing knot in my throat. I don't need to say it since she already knows, but I force myself to finish anyway. I'll own my mistake.
"Wunmi asked me to get something off the tour bus.
It could've been anyone else, but she begged me to do it.
I made a call. The wrong call. I should've refused, even if she was mad at me, but I only wanted to make her happy.
I acted the way a brother would instead of a bodyguard.
I reasoned that it would only take five minutes, that there were other lines of security preventing her stalker from getting backstage.
We also hadn't seen or heard from the guy in two months.
And I made her lock her door. She should've been fine.
" I drop my head to stare at my boots. "But even with all that, my job was to stay with her. My duty was to be there. And I wasn't."
I close my eyes as the memory crashes through my barriers. The dressing room door was wide open when I returned. There was the metallic smell of blood. Wunmi was crumpled on the floor with her throat slit.
The cut was clean and deep and blood flowed from her body like a river. She had just enough life in her to meet my gaze as I pressed my hand to her throat and tried to stop the bleeding.
"How?" was her last gargled word.