Black Dog Security- Complete 5-Part Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Smile, Charlotte. Smile like your livelihood depended on it.”

  I was tempted to let all of my distaste show. I was so tired of him. My training held up, though. I smiled and thanked the hostess as she led us to a table in the middle of the dining room. It was directly under a chandelier that felt like a spotlight beaming down on us.

  We were the center of attention and I hated it. When the waitress came by, I smiled and faked a light laugh. “This is amazing, but Giana didn’t have to do this. We can just sit at a normal table and she can let someone else have this amazing table.”

  The waitress grinned and shook her head. “Giana wouldn’t hear of it. She’s so excited to have you here. As soon as she gets away from the kitchen, she wants to talk to you. Right now, though, she wants you to enjoy everything. The food, the wine, the special table.”

  I held in a sigh and kept my eyes focused on her face to avoid looking to see if everyone was looking at us. Before I could ask for a menu, or John could tell her that I just wanted a dry salad, she broke out in a huge grin.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so excited to meet you. I love your podcast and I’ve read your book no less than five times. Giana would kill me if she knew I was asking for this, but will you autograph something for me?”

  Feeling every bit like a fake, I smiled back at her and nodded. “Of course. Anything for a fan.”

  John audibly sighed and checked his phone. The waitress blushed at his rudeness and clasped her hands together. She looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

  I shook my head and smiled at her. “Ignore John. He’s waiting to hear if he got a part in a movie. What can I sign for you?”

  “My order book, please.” She handed it to me and was back to grinning when I gave it back to her. “Also, Giana has a special surprise in store for you. Your appetizers will be out soon.”

  I watched as she fluttered away and then looked back at John. He was staring at me with a light smile on his face, but I could see the malice in his eyes. He hated me, I was sure of it.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I hope his goes fast. I’m ready to get back home.”

  I was ready to get away from him, so that worked for me.

  The food came fast and it was good enough that we ate it even faster. I was starving, as usual, and I was in heaven going through all the different things Giana sent out to us. After dessert, she met us at the table and walked with us to the private dining room that wasn’t open for customers yet.

  As soon as I walked in, I saw the problems in the room and made mental notes of how she could fix them. It was a short meeting, since she had to get back to work, but I told her to call me and I’d let her know what I thought.

  I left feeling like I’d actually done something and felt happier than I had in a while. Even though I could feel the annoyance and bitterness rolling off of John, I didn’t pay him any attention. I had ideas in my head. Ideas that could make Giana’s private dining room an attraction. I couldn’t wait to get home and write them all down.

  I was so distracted that I almost didn’t notice the piece of paper left under the windshield wiper until I was already in the car. Immediately, my body went cold and I knew it was from Sam. I stepped back out and grabbed the paper. Flipping it over, what I saw was enough to make my stomach sour and empty itself of all the great food I’d just shoved into it. I barely made it behind the bushes before I was throwing up.

  “Charlotte?” John sounded worried and then, even weirder, he was putting his arm around me and helping me lean against the side of the car. He stroked my face and gently took the paper from me. “Oh, my God. Who would do something like this?”

  I didn’t understand what was happening until I saw a flash of light and realized there were cameras watching us. I tried to pull away from John. We needed to get in the car and go. I didn’t want to become a spectacle.

  John had other plans, however. He pulled me into his chest and pressed me into his body, his overwhelming cologne giving me an instant headache. “My poor baby. It’s going to be okay. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  I cringed. This was horrifying. The picture the stalker had left for me was scary, but John acting like some sort of doting husband was next-level shit. I wanted to knee him in the nuts and speed off in the car, but that wasn’t the image the management company had in mind.

  “Mrs. Crier-Banks—what’s happening? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

  “Can you confirm that you’ve received more threats from your stalker?”

  John held me even tighter. “Yes! Look what the sick bastard left for her this time! My wife doesn’t deserve this!”

  I tried to stop him, but before I could, he was already thrusting the picture out for all of the cameras to snap away. There, in crudely drawn lines, was Sam, the stalker, thrusting his overdrawn penis into my neck. The spot where my head should’ve been was gone and the bloody stump that remained was all a little too Edmund Kemper for me.

  The cameras flashed more and the questions got louder as a crowd gathered. John just kept holding me, his cries of anguish so dramatic that I prayed the stalker would come out of the bushes I’d just been puking into and hit me over the head with something. Even if he’d just chloroform me so that I didn’t have to hear John trying to act like he loved me…

  “We have to get you home. It’s not safe here.” John gallantly rushed me into the car and shut the door. I saw him turn to the reporters and, still holding the image up, talk directly to Sam through the camera. “Whoever you are, whatever you want, you won’t get it. Stay away from my wife. You’re not going to get her.”

  I groaned and just barely resisted banging my head into the dash. What the hell was wrong with him? He was hamming it up like he’d just won a fucking award. He’d turned that concerned-husband shit on too fast. I wanted to throttle him.

  As soon as John got inside the car, I turned to him and frowned. “What the hell was that?”

  He laughed. “That, my dear, was acting. Your stalker story just went from page seven, ho-hum news, to front-page shit. People are going to know Sam the stalker. I just made us money.”

  Chapter 10

  Tucker

  Shit wasn’t going well. I’d sat in the jail for so long, trying everything I could to get Mercer out of it, I stunk like all the men they were bringing into intake. I’d gotten nowhere. They’d played the same old song and dance about the judge being out, but it was bullshit. We all knew it. Someone was pulling strings to keep Mercer in jail. It wasn’t sitting well with any one of us. We were all aware of the stakes. Mercer wasn’t going to do well. The longer he was in jail, the more likely it was that we’d lose him.

  My mood was somewhere between wanting to break everything I came across, and being ready to get myself thrown in jail for knocking someone the fuck out. I’d never had an issue with cops before seeing how the ones around town were treating Mercer.

  It didn’t help that while I was sitting with everyone, trying to figure out what to do about Mercer, I’d caught an image of Charlotte on the TV playing behind the clerk’s counter. John was holding Charlotte tight, her face pressed into his chest as she visibly shook. The subtitles read something like a B-list action movie. He was going to protect her. It was a load of shit. I wanted to rip his head off and feed it to my cat.

  So, walking into Charlotte’s that morning, I was feeling just as sour as I smelled. I didn’t want to deal with anyone’s shit. For some reason, I was angry at Charlotte, too. Why she was allowing herself to be trapped in the shit cycle that she was in was beyond me. I wanted to shake her. On some level, I knew that I was extra annoyed that morning because my dick had staked some kind of claim on the woman. There was something about her that my body reacted to. It didn’t make any sense, but there it was. So, seeing her taking comfort from her bozo of a husband pissed me off.

  No one said I made sense all the time.

  Gerald looked at me on his way out o
f the house, his nose turned up. He looked like he wanted to say something, but I scowled at him and it nipped it in the bud.

  I went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee before doing anything. I’d get to the security part of the job, but I wasn’t keeping anyone safe with the way I was feeling.

  John strolled in a few minutes later and frowned at me. “You look like shit.”

  “The camera really does add fifteen pounds, John. You don’t look nearly as bloated as you did on TV last night. Well… maybe.” I tilted my head and frowned as I eyed his body. It was easy to read an asshole like him. He cared too much about how he looked. Cutting him down was petty as fuck but it made me feel better.

  John glared at me and turned on his heel. I heard the front door slam a few minutes later and then the sweet smell of citrus and something soft drifted over to me and I knew Charlotte had come into the room. I didn’t want to look back at her, but I couldn’t help it.

  She was standing at the kitchen counter—how she’d gotten so close without me noticing was beyond me—and she was biting her lip again. When she saw me glance at it, she popped it back out of her mouth and frowned. “Everything okay?”

  So, she’d heard me insult her husband. She looked like she was actually upset about it. The ice queen Charlotte upset because I’d insulted her cheating, piece-of-shit husband. What a joke. I shook my head and narrowed my eyes at her. “Why wouldn’t everything be just great?”

  She took a step back and her eyebrows pulled together. “I was just—”

  “You were just what? What were you just, Charlotte?”

  She blinked at me and shook her head. “I just… I was worried.”

  “Nice try. I’m not buying into this act. Don’t worry, Charlotte. I won’t bother you today. Just go upstairs and get your hair done or whatever it is you do.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes filled with tears. She clamped down hard on that lower lip and, even as a tear slipped down her cheek, wrapped her arms around herself. “Sorry.”

  I watched as she turned and hurried away. The soft sound of a sob hit me in the chest like a fist and I had to grip the island to keep from going after her. I knew I’d gone too far. I was just stressed and tired. I felt like shit and I was pissed about seeing her holding on to John like he was some savior. I didn’t like that I hadn’t been called about the threat. I didn’t like that she was in danger—at all.

  No matter what, though, I had no excuse for making her cry. With a heavy sigh, I shoved my hands through my hair and groaned. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to go apologize to her.

  I shook my head and felt like I was moving with lead in my shoes as I trudged after her. Up the stairs and down the hallway to her room I went. I lifted my hand and knocked softly.

  “I’m busy.” Her voice sounded defeated through the thick door.

  “Let me in, Charlotte.”

  There was shuffling and then her voice was closer to the door. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  I sighed. “Let me in.”

  A few seconds passed, but finally she opened the door and looked up at me. Her eyes were red and she looked about as ruffled as I’d ever seen her. “Just forget it, Tucker.”

  I grunted. Like hell would I forget making her cry. I felt like shit. I eased the door open wider and stepped inside. Her shoulders dropped and she moved away, letting me close the door. I locked it out of habit and followed her towards the bed.

  She looked back, shocked that I was following her. “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting with you.” I moved past her and sat at the top of the bed. I adjusted the pillows behind me and leaned against the headboard. “Apologizing for being a dick, too.”

  More tears filled her eyes and she plopped down at the foot of the bed. The top blanket was obviously silkier than she’d expected. She was already trying to balance precariously at the end, but the silk did her in. She slipped off the end of the bed and landed with a thump on the floor.

  I bit back a laugh and got up to help her. “You okay?”

  Sitting on the floor, she was laughing while still crying. She looked like a mess but so damn adorable that I wanted to pull her into my arms. That laughing died away, though, and then she was just crying.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t cry.” I waved my hands at her, trying to get her attention. “Charlotte, don’t cry. For the love of God, get it together.”

  That seemed to make her cry harder. Feeling helpless, I leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed her under her arms. She was light enough that lifting her was barely an effort. I pulled her into my arms and patted her back as she kept on crying.

  “There, there.”

  Finally, she laughed again and looked up at me. “There, there?”

  I shrugged and cleared my throat. She was looking up at me and she looked so delicate. Gone was the ice queen. In her place was this soft, hurting little thing who was letting me hold her. “I’m probably not the best bet for finding comfort.”

  She looked down at where her hand was on my chest and her entire face went red. She tried to scoot away from me, but for some reason I held her where she was. It was stupid, but I felt responsible for how sad she was. I had to make it up to her.

  “You’re fine where you are. This is how I’m comforting you.”

  Her eyes moved back to mine and, through the sadness, something heated flashed across them. “What if it’s not comforting?”

  I licked my lips and willed my body to not react to her. Besides, as fast as that flash of heat had appeared, it was gone. I’d probably just imagined it. I forced a laugh and shrugged. “It’s the best I’ve got.”

  She inched off of my lap and I let her go that time. “I’m fine. I shouldn’t have cried. It’s stupid.”

  I grunted. “I was rude. I’m sorry.”

  She bit her lip and tugged at her hair. “Is everything okay? You seemed a little tense.”

  “That’s putting it lightly.” I ran my hands through my hair and told myself to focus. I was her guard. She was married. “There’s some stuff going on with the business. One of my brothers is wrapped up in some legal shit that doesn’t make any sense. Things are tense.

  “I also saw what happened last night. On the news. Gerald didn’t call me to advise me of the situation. It looked like John really came to the rescue, though.”

  Charlotte snorted and then shook her head. “I mean, yeah. I guess so. It sure looked good on TV, didn’t it?”

  I frowned as she got out of bed and paced around the room. She picked up things as she went and touched other things, seemingly taking a visual inventory of all of her stuff. She stopped moving at a small picture of an obviously much younger version of herself with an old woman.

  “Charlotte?”

  “Call me Charlie.”

  I leaned back against the headboard. “Charlie?”

  She touched the old woman in the picture and then looked back at me. “Charlie. It’s what my grandma called me. Is your brother okay?”

  My hands tightened on my legs and her eyes moved to them. I made myself unclench. “I hope so.”

  She moved a little closer. “What’s happening? Can I ask that?”

  I was almost shocked into silence at the change in her. She was like a different person. “Um… Sure. He was arrested. He didn’t do what they’re claiming he did, but they’re blaming him for it anyway.”

  “That’s awful. Is he in jail?”

  “Yeah.”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked thoughtful for a moment. “I decorated Judge Williams’ new house. His wife likes me. A lot. I could maybe say something.”

  I shook my head. “Thank you, but no. He’s not even in town. He’s on some magical vacation, apparently.”

  She looked sad again and I didn’t like it, for some reason. I was enjoying the new Charlotte–Charlie–so I wanted her to stick around.

  “Want to play a game?” I asked.

  She smiled suddenl
y, something so different from her normal smile that once again I was shocked into silence. “What kind of game?”

  I needed to get laid, obviously. When Charlie’s simple happiness over a game got me hard, something was clearly wrong. “It’s an old game from back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Originally? The swamps of Louisiana.”

  “So, it’s a swamp game?”

  I laughed. “Something like that. You want to play, cher?”

  She shivered and leaned towards me. “Cajun?”

  I lifted one side of my mouth in a slow smile and winked at her. “As they come.”

  She shifted and tucked her feet under her, facing me full on. “Forget the swamp game. Teach me some Cajun sayings.”

  Looking her over, I knew it would be a bad idea to spend the extra time with her. She was a temptation stronger than any I’d ever felt before. I couldn’t make myself leave the room, though. I wanted to see more of the lighthearted Charlie.

  So, I stayed and I talked to her in my thickest Cajun accent, enjoying every second of it as she tried to repeat what I’d said, laughing through it all.

  Chapter 11

  Charlie

  The next morning I had a makeup chapter to do for the book, so I woke up earlier than I would on a normal Sunday. It didn’t feel quite as early, though. I had more energy than I felt like I’d had in months and there was a smile on my face that didn’t want to quit. I hated that it was there because of Tucker, but the man was entertaining. I couldn’t even pretend that I knew what’d happened the night before, but it’d happened. I’d broken down and he’d come to comfort me. He’d held me in his arms.

  The sad thing was, I didn’t know when I’d last been held in someone’s arms. Besides a fan wanting a hug, I didn’t think I’d been embraced since before my grandma died. Wasn’t that just enough to almost vanquish the smile right off my face?