Chapter Twenty
Maddox
As soon as we arrived at Rosalie’s residence, we were escorted to a meeting room on the first floor of the grand mansion.
While Kairo was inclined to touch everything, I was busy mapping the layout in my head.
We were all working the moment we stepped foot past the threshold.
Roman conducted a subtle perimeter check, noting every possible entry point.
Kairo was memorizing the base of the home, running his hands along the paintings and pictures to feel for any wires or cameras stashed out of sight.
I was observing the entire first floor and roughly sketching the rest of the layout in my head.
Truthfully, I’ve always been fascinated by her. One of my sickest fantasies was birthed by her, and she has no idea what I’ve imagined doing to her while she sleeps—completely unaware that I’m looming over her like a demon bound by a fucking chain to her.
Roman would never admit it, but he’s just as excited as Kairo and me.
Though he sits uncomfortably in the small, rolling chair, his bulky form overpowering the armrests, and a scowl etched into his brow, he’s a buzz with something curious and intrigued by what we could have possibly gotten ourselves into.
Kairo paces like a stubborn child, ready to play with our shiny new toy. I’m surprised he hasn’t started frothing at the maw and clawing at the double oak doors keeping us sealed away.
I’m propped against the meeting table, my feet crossed and eyes burning from staying up the whole flight. We all had too much energy to rest. We’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
Hushed voices near the doors, and Kairo’s head whips up like a dog, ready to pounce on whoever opens them.
One door creeks open, and you could hear a pin drop in the room as we all hold our breath.
My eye twitches when Charlie, Rosalie’s best-friend-turned-manager, enters the room.
She’s dressed in an expensive set of royal blue silk pajamas as she argues lightly with the man standing behind her.
She has yet to see us, but when she enters the meeting room, we all stand at attention.
“Have you even done a background check?” She questions the smaller man behind her.
He’s a dashing sort with perfectly styled hair and neat, matching dark pajamas. Considering it’s three in the morning, it explains why everyone is dressed for bed. There wasn’t much time between our response and our arrival, since we flew for three hours to get to California.
“I did a background check!” The man protests. “We needed someone quick, and they were the only ones to respond right away. I did my research.”
“You better have, Elijah. We can’t just have anyone watching over Rose—” Charlie stops the moment she sees us, her eyes saucering as they bounce between all three of us rapidly.
“Oh, no, no, no!” She chants, grabbing Elijah’s shoulders.
“Can I talk to you outside? Preferably, where no one can hear us?”
The man is startled by her desperation, slightly drawing back with worry in his eyes. “Sure? What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer him as she drags him back out to the hallway and slams the door, closing us in here for a second time. There’s a beat of silence until we hear Charlie’s voice hit a crescendo, echoing off the walls in an obvious sign of her displeasure.
“This is going great,” Kairo smirks as he posts up and crosses his arms over his chest.
Roman hums. “If we want this job, then we’re going to have to get past the manager.”
“Obviously,” I mutter as more arguing ensues on the other side of the door.
We wait five minutes before Charlie opens it again, flying into the office with purpose. “You have to leave. Now!”
Roman scowls at her. “We flew all the way out here for this job. You need security. We’re security.”
Charlie’s jaw grinds as she motions wildly to us. “Yeah, I need security! Not whatever the fuck this is!”
Elijah stands back, cautious not to get too close to the manager as his lips pull over his teeth in a wince.
“We’re security,” Kairo says with a shrug. “And we’re your only option, right?” His eyes flicker to Elijah, who holds his hands up as if to say, ‘don’t involve me in this.’
Charlie braces her hands on her head, pacing. “Okay, not a big deal. We have Rose’s high school bullies standing in her fucking meeting room. Totally cool. Perfect, even!”
Light footsteps pad in the direction of the office, and we all stop as we stare at the doors. Charlie freaks out, commanding that Elijah stop whoever is on the other side, but she isn’t quick enough as the door creeps open further, and long black hair comes into view.
It’s like the whole world stops, stalling on its axis. None of us breathes as delicately, pale features and emerald green eyes pierce right into us. My pulse slams, reminding me that this is real.
She’s right in front of us.
My Songbird.
“What…” Rosalie’s voice trails as shock cracks across her perfect face before it’s replaced by boiling rage. “What the fuck?!”
Charlie intercepts her, grabbing Rosalie’s biceps as she forces the musician’s attention to her. “Don’t freak out. I told them they have to leave.”
“I’m calling another company,” Elijah reassures her as he presses his phone to his ear. He turns away from us, going out into the hall for some privacy.
“What’s going on?” Rosalie asks, outraged.
Charlie’s eyes bounce between her best friend and us. “Look, it was an obvious mix-up. Elijah didn’t know…”
Rosalie crossed her arms, her eyes flickering to us. “They can’t be here.”
“I know,” Charlie says softly. “Let us handle this, okay?”
The raven-haired woman nods, still seeming rattled beyond comprehension. Part of it is our presence, but there’s something much deeper there. Whatever happened with her last security detail has shaken her, and we pick up on it instantly.
“While we’re here, do you mind telling us what happened? If you’re out of options, then we need to know what we’re investigating.” Roman suggests.
Rosalie’s eyes cut to us, harsh and unforgiving. “I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
Kairo’s chuckle is condescending and low as it bounces around the meeting room. “You will if you need protection. We didn’t fly all the way out here for nothing.”
There’s a tense staring match between the four of us. We’re eating her alive with our gaze, but she isn’t backing down as she breathes deeply with simmering anger.
Elijah pokes his head through the meeting room doors, his expression concerned. “Charlie? Can I talk to you?”
The manager glances between us before stepping in front of Rosalie and blocking our view of her. “Do you want to go back to bed?”
“No,” The singer’s jaw grinds.
Charlie nods. “Okay, try not to kill them.”
When it’s just us, Rosalie sighs before pulling up a chair and easing onto it. She crosses her legs, a sliver of pale thigh showing as she folds her hands in her lap and glares at us.
“It’s good to see you—” Kairo starts before she interrupts him.
“Fuck you.”
He only smirks, his eyes lighting up in that sick way that says he’s ready for a fight. If there’s one thing he loves, it’s always an argument.
Roman tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. I can see the urge in him clear as day. He may think he’s immune to whatever hold this woman has had on us for almost a decade, but he has no idea just how fucking whipped he is.
Control is his power, and he wants to bend Rosalie to his will just the same as we do.
Songbird kicks her foot, a sign of her discomfort as she peers around the meeting room. She’s treating us as if we aren’t worthy of being in her presence, and she has every right to.
“Being rude isn’t going to get you protection,” Roman bites.
She gives him a tight, go fuck yourself smile. “And I would rather chew off my own ankle.”
His jaw works. “You’re being a fucking brat, Rosalie.”
Her mouth falls open. “Oh, go to hell!”
“Only if we can take you with us,” Kairo croons harshly.
Her face twists in disgust, sincerity glinting in her eyes. “You make me sick.”
Roman scrubs a hand across his mouth, practically vibrating with contained energy that I know he’s itching to get out. “This isn’t fixing anything. Why is your PR manager reaching out to a company that doesn’t operate in Los Angeles?”
She huffs. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Roman throws his hands out. “I do! That’s why I’m fucking asking.”
She finally cracks a smirk, but it’s conniving and mischievous. “Someone is easy to rage-bait.”
The whole interaction has my eyes ping-ponging between the two as they verbally assault each other. She has more than piqued my interest, and Kairo is in the same boat as me. He’s clawing away at the restraints tethering him to normalcy and wants to jump in so bad that he can’t hold still.
“You like to make us angry, huh?” Kairo tilts his head tauntingly. “Give me a shot, Thorn.”
The nickname is new, and it causes Rosalie to push up from her chair. She crosses the room, her slender legs peaking out of her robe as she braces herself across from Kairo. The ire in her glare could kill a grown man, but my friend only smirks at her as she spits venom at him.
“What did you just call me?” She seethes.
Kairo stares back at her with half-lidded eyes. “I called you thorn. You want to be a pain in our sides.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she growls before stepping back and cocking a hip.
“Actually, I think you got plenty of pain in your side, if my memory serves me correctly.” She brushes a finger over her chin, grinning.
“Didn’t you break your ribs in the military?
Sorry if that isn’t true. I didn’t really pay attention to anything mentioned about you.
” She looks at her nails, seeming aloof and cocky.
“Oooo,” Kairo chuckles deeply, his eyes darkening. “She’s gotten so brave. Such a little fighter.” He moves closer to her, leveling their noses as he bends down. “I bet I could make you fucking squirm, Thorn. Test your luck.”
“Bite. Me.” She rages.
“Bend over,” He quips in return.
Roman places his hand between them, scowling at Kairo. “That’s enough. Both of you.”
Rosalie scoffs, rolling her eyes as she retreats back to her chair. “I’m not hiring you.”
We all share a look, a silent pact going between us. We’re staying, and that’s final. Roman tilts his head in Rosalie’s direction, instructing me with his eyes to smooth this over.
I nod before walking over to her. She’s facing the doors, her arms crossed as she attempts to ice us out.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
Her gaze flickers to me. “What do you want?”
I swallow, and the light, sweet scent of her care products washes over me. She smells like fucking candy, and my mouth begins to water. “I wanted to apologize… for everything.”
Her face falls a fraction, before she hardens again, looking away from me as she shifts. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m sorry. We weren’t the easiest to get along with—”
She laughs humorously, throwing her head back. “Weren’t easy? You three made my life hell, and you expect me to just forgive you and move on? Hard pass.”
“We don’t expect you to forgive us,” I shake my head. “Not at all. You deserve to be angry. We were horrible to you.”
She sighs, “So? What do you want from me, then?”
“A chance to make up for past transgressions,” I shrug. “We don’t deserve your forgiveness, but we’ve changed.”
She stares at me unblinkingly before her mouth twitches. “I’m just a way for you to sleep at night, then? That’s not my responsibility.”
Oh, you have no idea, Songbird.
“How can I even trust that you’ll keep me safe?” She questions, turning her body to face me. Every inch of her I’ve committed to memory doesn’t do the real thing justice. She’s just as fucking breathtaking as the first day I saw her.
It was during my first period class. I was late and got stuck with the only available desk in the back. Rosalie was seated right beside me, her head resting on her arms as she slept.
She looked so tranquil and unbothered by the hardships she faced. She was like a painting, and I, the observer. I don’t know how long I stared at her. All I knew was that I couldn’t look away.
It was an awakening moment for the darkest desires I would harbor later on in life. She was at the center of it all and had no idea.
“Putting your trust in someone who did you wrong isn’t easy. It’s never easy.” I know the truth of that. “But we took an oath during our service to protect the innocent. We never go back on our word, and we want to prove ourselves to you, Rosalie.”
Her brows draw, and I can tell that she’s mulling my words over. I see the slight crack in her rigid ice wall, and it’s eating away at me to get to the center. I want to see it all—her hopes, her dreams, her fears.
I want it. Every. Last. Drop.
The door to the meeting room opens, and when Charlie walks in with an apologetic smile, I know there’s no other option available.
We made sure of that on our flight up here, but she doesn’t need to know what lengths we’ll go to for her.
Songbird’s shoulders wilt before she takes a deep breath and faces us. She folds her hands in front of her, the picture of poise and elegance. “You start tonight. Who can be on the first shift?”
“I can,” I volunteer.
Roman cuts me a glare, silently warning me.
Rosalie clears her throat, holding her head high. “Follow me this way, and I’ll show you to your rooms.”