Back To The Start Box Set: Five Full-Length Novels

by Aly Martinez

  Johnson tore his gaze away first and did it talking. “Apollo isn’t a threat. He’s an asshole. But he’s nothing to worry about. The problem is he lingers. It scares the fuck out of Rhion.”

  “He lingers?” I asked for clarification.

  “If Rhion walks out of her home, Apollo is somewhere nearby. She’s seen him. I can usually tag him before we exit the door. He doesn’t approach. He doesn’t say anything. He’s just there, screwing with her head.”

  “Have you tried to make contact with him? Call the cops? He’s a con, for fuck’s sake. Have them pick him up?”

  “We tried that when it first started happening. They picked him up but eventually let him go. He hasn’t really done anything wrong,” he said casually.

  But there was nothing casual about the vise compressing my ribs.

  “Yet, anyway!” I burst up out of my chair. “He’s stalking her! I’d say that’s something.”

  “Yeah, well, until he makes a move, there isn’t shit we can do. Right now, they peacefully coexist in a city together. It’s our job to make sure, when he does make that move, he doesn’t touch her.”

  “They aren’t coexisting if she’s locked up in her apartment, afraid to leave without a full guard.”

  “I agree. But, when we’ve tried to confront him, it makes things worse. About a year ago, I caught him lurking outside the building and had a chat with him.”

  Leo chuckled. “I’m not sure it can be considered a chat when you came back wearing a couple pints of his blood.”

  Johnson shrugged and kept talking. “It was right before Christmas, and we had plans to head to New York so she could spend it with Pete and Sandy. I was hoping to put him out of commission long enough to get her out of town. But that stupid motherfucker showed up at the airport looking like a goddamn zombie, freaked Rhion out so bad she refused to get out of the car. We spent Christmas huddled around a Charlie Brown tree in her apartment, eating Chinese takeout. He turned up his efforts after that. Started calling her name when we’d go out so she knew where he was. It was at least three months before he went back to hiding in the shadows. So trust me. For Rhion’s sake, it’s best to ignore him. Be vigilant. But leave him alone.”

  Fuck. Why did that feel like someone had just beaten the piss out of me? I sighed and grabbed the back of my neck. “And this is why you two are so tight? She won’t go anywhere without you.”

  “Yep. Well, that and I’ve known her since she was a teen.”

  My eyebrows shot up.

  “Before he died, I worked for her father,” he stated, rising to his feet. “For five years, I was his personal guard. The man who escorted him to Rhion’s horse shows and softball games when she was in high school. The one who pulled her off his lifeless body when he had a heart attack the day she graduated college.” He rose from his chair and stabbed a finger to my chest. “And I was the man who stood at her side the day you tried to fight your way in to see her at the hospital.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. It’s safe to say, after that bullshit, I’m not your biggest fan by a long shot, Jude.”

  “I…” I started. And, for the first time since I’d met him, our fucked-up relationship made sense. “I wanted to tell her I was sorry.”

  He smirked. “And that’s the only reason we’re standing here, having this conversation, instead of me hiding your body.”

  Leo’s hand landed on my shoulder. “That file folder has all the information you’ll need about Apollo, including pictures and his usual MO. As of last night, you are officially assigned to Rhion Park. She is not just your girlfriend, Levitt. Rhion Park is my number-one client. She pays for round-the-clock surveillance inside her apartment and a full-time guard. If Johnson isn’t here, there’s always a man in the office in case she needs something. You just became that man. Permanently.”

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed. “Inside her apartment?”

  Johnson barked a laugh. “There’s been a whole lot of eye bleach passed around the security room since your little appearance last weekend. Don’t worry. I deleted that shit.”

  “And for God’s sake,” Leo said. “See what you can do about getting her out of the apartment more. She’s family here at Guardian. I worry about her being alone so much.” He grabbed a bunch of paperwork and a cup of coffee off his desk before heading to the door.

  I caught his arm before he had a chance to leave. “Don’t you think this is a conflict of interest? She and I are—”

  “Oh, absolutely,” he stated. “But she doesn’t fully trust any of the other guys, so we’re gonna have to work with what we got. And, right now, you, son, are all I got.”

  “Jesus. Christ. This is not a good idea.”

  “Funny,” Leo said. “Those were my exact thoughts when I watched the miracle of her walking out to your car last night. But you know what? Judging by that hickey on your neck, that worked out fine for everyone involved, now didn’t it?”

  I slapped a hand up to my neck and searched around as if I could feel it, causing both of them to laugh.

  Johnson followed him to the door. “Take the day and memorize every page of that file. You skim one fucking word, I will rip your eyeballs from your head and make you manually read it.”

  I glared and muttered, “Right.”

  “Right,” he parroted, and then, seconds later, he and Leo were gone.

  What the hell was going on? Rhion was one step away from being a recluse. I was her new bodyguard and her boyfriend. And, if I factored in that our relationship was only days old, this was a recipe for disaster. Leo had officially lost his mind.

  Unfortunately, as I tore that folder open and started reading, it appeared I had too.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rhion

  My body ached—the sweet agony of a night spent with a man between my legs. It was a new feeling for me. I hadn’t been with anyone since college, and that had been before the fire, before scars had covered most of my upper body, and before I’d turned myself into a human canvas to cover them. I’d never been a burn victim who was ashamed of my scars. I didn’t want to hide them. I wanted them to be beautiful.

  I’d survived. And, for the first few months after the fire, I hadn’t been sure I would.

  Those scars were my trophies.

  And so was that ache between my legs. It was my blissful reward for having been strong enough to follow my heart and not allow my mind to keep me locked up inside the fortress of my apartment.

  I was stacking a pile of books in the crook of my arm when I caught sight of Jude’s bag in the corner of my room. He was spending the night. Again. Only, this time, he’d be doing it in my bedroom instead of the ocean room. And, this time, I’d make it a night he wouldn’t be able to forget.

  Which was exactly why I was clearing out all things fictional-Jude from my room in order to make space for the real thing. I’d had Johnson help me carry the shelf that usually stood proudly in my living room to my bedroom last week in case Jude decided to make another impromptu four a.m. appearance. But, now, my book babies that I liked to keep on display would need to be moved again.

  Barefoot, I padded down the hall to the third bedroom and set them on the shelf I’d cleared in my giant built-ins that lined every inch of the walls. When I’d originally approved the floor plan, it was supposed to be my office. However, when my tattoo guy told me he needed a more hygienic workstation than a chair at my dining room table, it then became his office. It was okay; I’d written some of my best works cuddled up under a blanket in bed anyway.

  I’d just gotten my paperbacks settled on the top shelf when I heard a knock at my door. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was only noon. A flurry of anxiety stirred inside me. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and after the fiasco with my stepmom, I couldn’t be too safe.

  It was Wednesday. Zach would be in the security room.

  I looked up at the ceiling and called, “Zach?”

  A second late
r, his voice came through the speakers. “It’s Levitt at the door, Rhion.”

  Then I heard him chuckle as I sprinted at full speed to the front door.

  Sliding to a stop, I sucked in a deep breath and took inventory of how I looked. Hair in a ponytail, black leggings, and an oversized, yellow T-shirt I’d thrown on after I got out of the shower. No bra. Crap! Oh well. He’d seen me without a bra that morning, and he’d seemed to like it quite a bit. Having my new man working upstairs, where he could stop by at any moment, was going to drastically change my morning routine.

  My grin couldn’t have gotten any wider as I snatched the front door open.

  I lied.

  It got wider—exponentially—as Jude’s eyes drifted down to my boobs.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Rhion,” he cursed, tugging me against his chest with one hand while he dug his phone out of his pocket and lifted it to his ear. Then he barked, “Tell Zach to turn the cameras off. Now.”

  Uh oh. My body locked up tight. Jude knew there was security in my apartment. I should have known that it was only a matter of time before he found out. All the guys knew. But he didn’t exactly seem thrilled about it.

  “Right,” he snapped. “From here on out, you see me walk in this door, they go off immediately. I’ll check in when I leave.”

  I was lost in thought about which of those rat-bastards had tattled on me when Jude lowered his phone and pressed his lips to the top of my hair.

  “I’m not in this apartment, you wear a fucking bra. You got it, Butterfly?”

  My stomach fluttered, and I looked up at him. “Are you being sweet and rude in the same sentence?”

  “No. What I’m being is dead serious. Zach is a single, thirty-four-year-old man.” He moved a hand up my side and then pushed in until his thumb raked across my nipple.

  I gasped.

  “He’s got a zoom button, Rhion. I can guarantee they’ve been zoomed in on these a time or two. Do me a favor. Put on a bra. And don’t make me kill him next time I see him at the office.”

  Pushing up onto my toes, I brushed his lips with mine. “To answer my question: Yes, you were being sweet and rude in the same sentence. To answer your question: Yes, I can put on a bra when you are not in my apartment so you don’t have to put on a loin cloth and pound your chest before killing Zach.” I kissed him chastely. Then I finished with, “Besides, I need him alive. He gives great Christmas gifts. He thinks I work in IT, so he gives me really cool gadgets.”

  Jude glowered as he stepped into my apartment and shut the door. “That’s another thing. I need to know what you actually do for work. And none of the bullshit pieces of you. I need the truth.”

  I twisted my lips and attempted to change the subject. “What are you doing here? Couldn’t stay away from me?” I winked, but his face didn’t soften.

  “I’m reporting for duty.”

  “Say what?”

  He placed his hand at the small of my back and subtly guided me over to the couch.

  I felt it immediately. His palm never came flush with my back. It was just his fingertips and the heel of his hand. It was wrong.

  It was the way Johnson touched me when we were out: practiced and professional.

  I arched away from his sterile touch and turned to face him. “What are you talking about? Reporting for duty?”

  “Have a seat, Rhion.”

  I shook my head, and my voice grew agitated. “Damn it. Tell me what you mean.”

  He didn’t delay in catching me at the back of my neck and giving it a reassuring squeeze before pinning me with his gaze. “Calm down. Nothing to get upset about.”

  I shifted my focus between his eyes, noticing for the first time that they contained tiny flecks of gold around the edges, but it was the calming effect they had on me that surprised me the most. All at once, my tense body relaxed.

  “There ya go,” he praised, and then his hand once again landed on my back, but it was Jude’s hand: warm, reassuring, protective, possessive. “Come on, babe,” he purred, walking with me to the couch.

  I curled into the corner and pulled my legs up beneath me as he sat sideways to face me, his arm running across the top behind me.

  Close. Attentive. Secure.

  “Jude,” I prompted when he didn’t say anything.

  “Johnson gave me the low points about Apollo.”

  Uh oh.

  This would definitely explain the coolness with which he’d touched me. He knew the truth.

  “I…uh…”

  He shifted closer and whispered, “Baby, why didn’t you tell me last night that you don’t like to leave your apartment?”

  “Um, because it’s crazy. And I really don’t want you to think I’m crazy,” I confessed.

  He smirked. “You told me you’re an aquatic veterinarian to the stars, you have an ocean room, and you full-ass Thanksgiving. I already know you’re a little crazy, Rhion.”

  “Okay, let me amend my statement: I don’t want you to think I’m a lot crazy.”

  “Then explain it. That’s all you ever have to do with me. I’m not sure what your aversion to conversation is, but if you want the truth, that is the only thing I find a lot crazy about you.”

  My heart raced as I considered actually telling Jude about my past. But there was an undeniable part of me that wanted him to know. And I wanted him to stay. To understand me in ways that no one else did.

  “Apollo follows me,” I whispered.

  “I know.”

  I swallowed hard. “He was there the night you showed up at the bar. He walked in behind you.”

  His eyes turned dark, but his face filled with understanding. “That’s why you ran?”

  “I lost it, Jude. I do every time I see him. He set me on fire. He wanted me dead. He still wants me dead.”

  “Rhion,” he said in the same placating tone Johnson used any time we talked about the fire. “He was in jail. There’s no way he started the fire.”

  “So he had someone do it for him. He hates me, Jude.”

  He hooked an arm under the back of my legs and dragged me onto his lap. Holding me close, he asked, “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I choked. “I mean, I guess I do.”

  “Then tell me,” he implored.

  “You’re going to laugh…but I’ve always felt like he was destined to hate me. See, my mom was a novice astronumerologist. She swore she could read the stars and all that crap. When I was born, she named me after the constellation Orion. For reasons known only to my mother and JR Ward, she added an h.”

  “JR who?” he asked.

  “She’s an author.” I waved him off. “Anyway…according to lore, Orion was in love with Artemis, much to her brother Apollo’s dismay. Eventually, Apollo tricked Artemis into killing Orion.”

  “Uh huh.” He blinked at me for several seconds. “And do you have any reasons to believe your brother hates you that don’t involve mythology?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Could I get those?”

  I let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. My father was no saint. He had a temper and was known to be cutthroat in the boardroom. But he was good dad—at least to me. He and Apollo…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “They were oil and water. Apollo lied about everything, and it drove Dad crazy. They used to fight nonstop. Dad shipped him off to this posh boarding school when he was in sixth grade. He got kicked out the first week. After that, Dad sent him to a not-so-posh military school. Apollo was miserable. He wrote letters and begged to come home, but Dad refused. When he came home for Christmas that year, he started acting aggressive toward me. He shoved me down the stairs, broke my arm. I swore to my father that it was an accident. It wasn’t. He’s just so damn angry.

  “The following year, he tied me to a chair and cut all of my hair off the day before my big Christmas performance at school. I had our maid sneak me to the salon before my father saw. I was scared of Apollo, but I was terrified for him if Dad ever found out all the shit he did to me. It
got to the point where I’d make up excuses to leave town any time he was going to be home. I rarely saw him after that, but I missed him. We were close as kids. We were young when Mom died, and Dad traveled a lot, but we had each other. When he went to jail, I hated the idea of him being alone, so I went to visit him. And the strangest thing happened: He opened up. He apologized, Jude. For everything. He was a mess, so filled with regret. He may have been in an orange jumpsuit and behind bars, but I laughed with my brother for the first time in almost a decade. Every week for a year, I went to visit him, two hours each way. And I felt like I’d finally gotten my family back. And then Dad died.” My throat became thick with emotion, rendering me unable to speak.

  “He left you everything,” Jude filled in when my words failed me. “And your brother lost his mind. And then, six weeks later…the fire.”

  I nodded.

  “And then, two years ago, he got out of jail?”

  “He attacked me at a charity event. Spouting lies about my entire family then told me he set the fire to teach me a lesson…” The words died on my tongue.

  “And then he started following you, so you figured it was easier to hide than deal with him.”

  My breathing shuddered as I tried to get my scrambled emotions under control. There was something distinctly freeing about telling someone, especially Jude, about the world that kept me locked in my ivory tower.

  “It wasn’t just Apollo though. People came out of the woodwork after I inherited everything. All of Dad’s ex-wives, their kids, long-lost cousins. Even my best friends had their hands held open. People would show up to hang out with me while I was recovering from the fire, spend a couple of hours, and then, hours later, hit me up for money. Everything just felt so premeditated and insincere. I’d never felt so alone. So I decided I didn’t want it anymore. I signed over control of my father’s estate to his old business partner, Peter Higgins.”

  His face turned to stone as he whispered ominously, “Peter Higgins.”

  Embarrassed at the memory of when Jude punched him at the hospital, I attempted to look away, but Jude didn’t allow it.