by Ivy Harper
This time I had to deal with being awoken by his loud yells. He was apparently a morning person, something his profile hadn’t mentioned. The man had somehow found a foghorn and had decided to use it to wake me up.
I’d been so shocked; I’d fallen out of the bed and slammed my elbow on the corner of the nightstand. While I lay on the floor, contemplating murder, he’d burst into my room in a black tracksuit.
I hated him on sight. The least the fucker could do was sleep in like a decent rock star. Instead, he looked down at me with a cocksure grin and pointed at the night sky. There was no sun. Why the fuck was he up and there wasn’t any sunlight?
My brain was so filled with questions, I could only grunt when he said my name.
“Ms. Ryland, it’s time to go running. You weren’t thinking of sleeping in, were you?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he feigned disappointment.
Finally regaining my tongue, while still lying on the floor, I asked, “And you couldn’t go on a run alone?”
He gasped. “Without my protector with me? No way, I wouldn’t dream of leaving without you. We have to be together, twenty-four seven.” If a devil had a smile, it would look like the one on this demonic asshole’s face standing in front of me. “Come, come, I would hate to have to tell Chelsea you’re slacking.”
“I bet you would,” I muttered. I got up and walked to the closet only to realize something. Turning around, I stopped short when I found Tak had followed me. “Space would be nice.”
He stared at me like he didn’t understand my words. “Huh, but what if you get lost?”
“Lost?” I repeated, trying to find the patience I was not known for. “I’m sure I won’t and I’m sure you’re the last person I’d call for help.”
He took a step closer, forcing me back. I placed my hands behind me. I couldn’t punch him. I loved him—platonically—and hitting his face would be a sin. I’d also lose my job, but if there were a god, he’d stub his toe before this day was out.
“That hurts. I’m known for my charity work.”
“Well, I’m not a charity case.” I nodded toward the door. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”
“Five,” he challenged.
“Five,” I agreed.
He grinned. “What a good little girl you are.”
I smiled. “Always, sir.” He left and just as the door shut, my smile dropped. I’d show that misogynistic jerk. He said he wanted to run, well, let’s run.
Tak
* * *
I’d thought I was getting back at that annoying woman forcing her to run with me. Instead, I questioned my own sanity for making such a suggestion. The minute she’d come outside with that look in her eyes, I should have known something was up.
My watch went off for the third time, followed by me releasing a gasp for air and staggering to a stop. Sweat dripped down my face. Squinting down at my watch, I could see we’d already reached the five-mile mark.
“Are you still good to continue?” she asked with a customer service smile as she lightly jogged in place next to me. Looking me over, she then creased her brow. “Would you like to stop?”
“I… I think I should—” I panted out only for her to cut me off.
“But don’t you run five miles every morning?”
Something in her words sounded like doubt, which pissed me off. I wasn’t some bitch. I would keep going. It’d be a cold day in hell before I let her have the satisfaction of seeing me quit.
Even though it’d been two years since the last time I’d gotten up early and ran five miles. My lungs felt like they were collapsing. Running on a treadmill hadn’t prepared me for running up and down the hills of my larger than necessary neighborhood. I swore the minute I got her ass home and I could breathe again, I’d toss her over my knee and spank the shit out of her.
I forced myself to straighten and together we ran the last two miles home. God, I hated running. She released a cheerful whistle as she ran beside me.
I swore I’d pay her back for this. One way or another.
Chapter 17
Disturbance
Tak
* * *
As we drew closer to my house, I could see my plans from earlier would have to change. Kole’s red Corvette sat in my driveway. Fuck, this day was really taking a shit on me.
“Sir, do you recognize that car?” Jazz asked as her posture turned defensive.
Impressed, but also annoyed, I nodded. She thought she could protect me. I could protect myself. I placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It belongs to someone from the label.”
Hearing this her posture relaxed. “Okay, then I’ll escort you inside before going to change.”
“You don’t need to. I can take care of myself.”
She snorted. “I don’t doubt that, but it’s my job to make sure you don’t have to.”
“Oh, aren’t you feisty,” I teased.
“You’ll come to appreciate it someday,” she tossed over her shoulder as she made her way inside. I followed her to find Kole and Danny sitting in my living room.
“Hello, Ms. Ryland,” Kole greeted Jazz as he stood. “I hope you’re enjoying your new job. Tak’s not giving you any problems, is he?”
I didn’t appreciate being talked about as if I wasn’t in the room, but I was also curious to hear my bodyguard’s answer. And having gotten a taste of her personality, I knew she wasn’t the type to mince her words. I had been a nuisance—on purpose—but a nuisance, nonetheless.
“Everything has been wonderful, Mr. Kole.”
I looked at her to see an almost too bright smile on her face. She looked away from Kole just long enough for our eyes to meet. A silent conversation passed between us. Amused, I shot her a knowing look.
She used her eyes to tell me to keep my mouth shut, I decided to keep the peace and remain silent. Though I badly wanted to stir the pot, my desire to get Kole out of my house outweighed my wish to antagonize Jazzy. Walking around Jazzy, I bumped my hip against hers, forcing her to move aside. Overhearing her low murmured curse was the icing on the cake.
“I don’t think you’ve said what made you show up here unannounced. I thought we spoke at length about these surprise visits.”
I didn’t bother looking at Danny. The man was like thin air. Kole placed his hands in his pockets as he lifted his chin.
It was his favorite pose. He probably thought it made him look intimidating. Instead, he looked like a Sam I Am punk with small dick issues.
He offered me a smile. “We did. Although from what I remember of our conversation, you agreed to respond to my emails and answer my phone calls in trade. You failed to do so. So, I decided to do a face-to-face. Danny?”
“Yes.” Danny perked up immediately, bringing a packet from out of his battered leather briefcase. He gripped it in his hand, nervously glancing between us.
“Give it to him,” Kole ordered.
Danny held the packet out to me. Stuttering, he said, “H… here, M… Mr. Jensei.”
I didn’t take it. Hell, I didn’t even look at him. “I already said I won’t work with them.”
Kole narrowed his eyes. “I heard, but the amount of money they’re offering isn’t something you can easily turn down. Working with them as their model will improve your image, which is something you need right now.” He took the packet from Danny and slapped it against my chest. “I expect to get this back from Chelsea, signed.”
“We had an agreement when I signed my contract. I was given the right to choose the businesses I would work with.”
I refused to take the packet. I would cut my arm off before I accepted this deal. The familiar revulsion intermixed with hate filled me. Memories I’d long ago locked away in my mental closet, rustled once more. I damned Kole for his role in bringing them back to life.
“Yes, we did. There was also an agreement about protecting the label’s image.” He stepped forward, leaning in so he could whisper in my ear. “Drug abuse and reckl
essness doesn’t protect it.”
He took a step back and let the packet fall to the floor. “Read it, sign it, and then we’ll schedule the first shoot.”
He glanced behind me. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the job, Ms. Ryland. Come, Danny.” With that, he shot me a warning look before he turned and left.
“Coming, sir.” Danny ran after him.
I stared after them and then looked down at the packet at my feet. My mind raced trying to figure out a way to get out of having anything to do with the Nakamura family. My throat tightened as my hands grew sweaty.
I needed to take in more air, even though some part of me knew I was breathing fine. I still felt like I was suffocating. A black abyss yawned open before me.
The faint sound of a young child crying filled my ears. I would have much rather had the music back. The never-ending tinkling of piano keys to block out the sounds of the past.
“Mr. Jensei?”
Jazz’s voice cut through the overpowering black that threatened to swallow me up. I sucked in a quick breath and looked at her. She looked at me with worry in her large brown eyes and reached out a hand toward me.
“Mr. Jensei?”
Before she could touch me, I moved out of the way. I ignored the flash of hurt in her gaze. “I need to make a phone call.”
Entering the hallway, I nearly ran to my wing. Stopping once I got close to my room, I collapsed against the wall. Reaching up with a trembling hand, I covered my eyes.
Nervous laughter spilled from my lips. I needed to regain control. The shadows refused to retreat. The black ether consumed my poisoned mind, revealing images of the two who had abandoned me.
“Leave, go away, I don’t need you,” I whispered to no one.
The shapes withered. Their faces becoming blank slates as my memory failed to render their faces fully. Inhaling deeply, my chest tightened. I dropped my hand, forcing myself to straighten.
“I’m okay.” The shadows retreated as the pain in my chest lessened. “I’m okay.”
My back tingled from the cold sweat that had broken out. I glanced at the mirror that hung on the wall and flinched at the look of fear on the face of my reflection. Smiling, I forced the cocky persona of Tak forward.
“Fuck it, I’m fine. I’m Tak Jensei. I do what I want. Fuck Kole if he thinks he can dictate my actions.”
I didn’t owe anyone a damn thing. Not my fame, nor my presence. The Nakamuras would die before I let them see me again.
Jazz
* * *
I watched him storm off. Worry filled me at the sight of his pale expression. He had been vehement about not doing the commercial.
I bent down and picked up the envelope and glanced over my shoulder to make sure Tak hadn’t come back. Opening it, I gave the document inside a brief look, the top of it read Agreement with Nakamura Co.
Immediately, I wondered why he didn’t want to work with the Nakamura brand.
From what I knew, Nakamura was an LA based design company. It was one of the many companies owned by the Nakamuras, who had immigrated from Japan to America back during the sixties. The apparel company was the most popular. It boasted a reputation similar to Christian Siriano and Ivy Park, and it was still growing every day.
Tak’s image would fit them perfectly. Dark grunge with a rebellious edge that made me both desire and feel wary of him. The most confusing piece was that Tak himself was a Nakamura.
Not many people outside of Bridge Lake knew that because he’d changed his name after he’d signed with JS Records. Quickly closing the envelope, I placed it on the coffee table and took my phone out and texted Dutch.
Seeing Tak’s reaction to being forced to work with them told me they were worth looking into. Midway through my text, I received a message. I paused to read it.
“Fuck, we’re late,” I released a shout.
* * *
***
* * *
Three hours later, I apologized to Chelsea in the lobby of Stone Magazine headquarters. She didn’t even look at me, her eyes were on her phone. “You’re three hours late.”
I straightened up. “I’m sorry, I tried to hurry, but Mr. Jensei needed a little more time to get ready.” I bit my lip at her hard look.
She waved me off. “It’s actually good. He didn’t even show up for the last interview. Which is why I came by before heading to the office.”
“Because they ask the same questions,” Tak cut in, abrasively.
I turned around and bit the inside of my mouth. He looked so good in his suit pants, a blue T-shirt with a torn neck, and an edgy long peacoat. The scarf he had carelessly put on swung as he removed his sunglasses. He pointed them at Chelsea.
“I told you I didn’t want to do it, so of course, I didn’t come,” he continued.
“Has anyone told you, Tak, the world doesn’t revolve around you?” someone said from behind me. I turned and clasped my hands together as Ark, Omar, and Jay walked toward us.
I could die happy.
Ark was cute as usual. He’d seen his barber recently. His edges were lined up, the blond curls were wild on the top of his head. He gave a small salute in greeting. I gave him a bright smile in return.
“No, I can’t say they have, but then again, it would be a lie,” Tak answered, only turning his head as Jay came to a stop beside him.
Jay was pale-skinned with round eyes and stood about an inch shorter than Tak. His hair was long and brushed the collar of his thin burgundy sweater. Trying to regain my composure, I tried to put some space between myself, Tak, and Jay, who continued their argument.
“I should post a video of your real personality online,” Jay threatened.
Tak laughed. “You mean, like every video of you in college I still haven’t deleted.”
Jay let out a gasp. “You fucker, you told me you deleted that shit.”
“I lied.”
“Who’s this?” someone asked from behind me.
A hand landed on my shoulder, forcing me to turn fully around, meeting amber colored eyes. I retreated a step. My view expanded to the rest of Omar. His beautiful rosewood skin flattered the bright smile he gave me. He tossed his head and his sun-bleached dreads fell behind his shoulder.
“Is she the new bodyguard?”
“I… I.” Shit, it felt like my brain was frying. I was surrounded by the men of my favorite band. For the past eleven years, I’d been in love with them.
I was definitely Tak’s biggest fan, but I still couldn’t believe I was surrounded by the four members of Rejected One.
Tak stepped between us blocking my view of the other three. “She’s my new bodyguard.”
I quietly checked my pulse. My heart was still beating, my lungs were still working. I was definitely still alive.
Once I was finished checking that I hadn’t died from the overwhelming presence of my favorite band, I turned my attention to the offending back between me and the other three band members. I glared at it.
He really was being an ass for no reason. Was I not allowed to even speak with the others? I poked him, but he didn’t move. I did it again. He reached behind his back and slapped my hand.
“Omar, I heard you’re getting married, is that true?”
Hearing the tone of Tak’s voice, I moved to the side of him in time to see Jay’s expression stiffen.
“Tak, not here,” Omar warned.
Tak chuckled. “Hey, you can’t blame me for asking. I can’t help feeling bad for the girl. Does this make it four times now that you’ve cheated on her?”
“Why don’t you worry about that burn in your pants and not my fiancée,” Omar retorted, his eyes narrowed on Tak’s grinning face.
“Hmm, but your drama is so much better,” Tak taunted.
My ears stung from what they were saying. They were in the middle of the lobby. Anyone could be listening.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped between them. Tak was obviously looking to start a fight. And Omar seemed more than willing
to give him one.
Where the hell did Chelsea go?
“I think it’s time for you guys to head upstairs,” I said as a crowd started to grow a few steps away. I smiled. “After all, I would hate if everything your saying gets published.”
“Well, it can’t beat trying to kill yourself, right Tak?” Omar quipped, ignoring me. He gave Tak’s wrist a pointed look. “How’s the hand? Can you even hold a mic with that?”
Tak laughed, but he clearly wasn’t amused by Omar’s words. He drew his fist back. I stepped forward because it was my job to—it wasn’t because I wanted to be squashed between the two band members bodies.
I turned and caught Tak’s punch. The force caused my back to hit Omar’s chest. Tak looked startled to see me in the middle of them. I squeezed Tak’s fist.
“Let stop this here.”
He looked from me to Omar. “Fuck.”
He withdrew and grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. Taken off balance, I fell into his arms, my cheek pressed against his chest.
“Fine, but if you say that shit again, I’ll remove your wandering dick and make you eat it, Omar.”
With that, he turned, maintaining his hold on my wrist and dragged me behind him to the elevator. I twisted my arm in his hold. “Mr. Jensei, let go, please.” He ignored me. “Mr. Jensei.”
Being dragged behind such an overbearing man wasn’t what I would call fun. He didn’t respond as we entered the elevator. Not waiting for the others, he pressed the close button right as Jay reached the door.
“Catch the next one,” he said cheerfully as he flipped him the bird.
“Fuck you, Tak.”
The door closed. Finally, alone, I ripped my hand out of his. Rubbing my wrist, I contemplated the good and the bad of not washing it ever again. I really needed to figure out how to engrave these fan moments into my mind.
“Why do you call me Mr. Jensei?” he asked out of nowhere.
