Serial Passion: A Steamy Bodyguard Romance

by Kelli Walker

  Rocco grunted as his eyes locked with mine. But, I wasn’t backing down. We really did need food. We wouldn’t have enough to get us through breakfast tomorrow if we didn’t do something about it. I walked over to the banister of the staircase and picked up my cardigan. I swung it around my shoulders and pulled it tight around me. I reached for my purse on a catch-all chair that sat against the second staircase in my brownstone, then went to stand at the top of the steps leading straight for the front door.

  “You can come with me, or you can stay behind. But, one way or another, I’m getting to the pharmacy and the grocery store,” I said.

  I could have sworn I heard Rocco growl as I made my way down the steps. But, I heard him fall in line behind me. I swung the front door open and greeted Chelsey, and the confused look on his face was enough to make me giggle. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I took in the sounds of the city around me. The honking horns and the people talking a little too loud with one another and the cars slowly climbing up and down my street. Dogs barked off in the distance and sirens wailed. A couple down the block was fighting and cursing at one another.

  I reveled in the feel of the sunlight on my face before Rocco shut my front door with a thud.

  “Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss. We won’t take all afternoon,” I said.

  I looked back at Rocco and watched him shoot a look to Chelsey. And, without a word spoken, Chelsey nodded his head. As if they had spoken an entire conversation right there in front of me. I still didn’t understand it. Why Rocco didn’t speak at all. But, it seemed as if everyone around him was used to it.

  Maybe there was a medical condition associated with his muteness. Or, at the very least, a psychological one.

  Rocco was fidgety the entire time we walked up the block to the pharmacy. He wouldn't let me stand near the road, and every time someone came at me a little too quickly, his arm shot out in front of me. Like we were about to be in some sort of freak car accident. I rolled my eyes. The man really was being a pain in the ass. During all of this, I had never been attacked in public. No one had ever come up to me and delivered a message or tried to assault me in any way. Coupling that fact with the fact that I felt safe in Rocco’s presence, and it was almost comical what he was doing. Maneuvering me around crowds of people with his hand gripping my cardigan. His eyes constantly darting in all sorts of direction to clock everything we passed by.

  “Ready to go shopping?” I asked.

  I stopped in front of the pharmacy and pointed up. The red sign blazed above our heads and I could have sworn I saw Rocco sigh with relief. I giggled and grabbed his arm, tugging him into the store.

  “Here, hold this,” I said.

  I handed him a basket and I began to pile it full of things. Conditioner. More shampoo for later. Body wash. Face wash. Tampons. Toilet paper. Anything I could possibly think of that I would have needed for another week or two cooped up with him. I piled the basket full of things. Including a couple packages of gummy bears. I looked up at Rocco and watched him arch an eyebrow, like he was judging the haul of things I needed.

  “Yes, I know it’s not just toothpaste and just conditioner. I told you I needed some things. If I’m going to be cooped up with you for another week or so, then I might as well cover all my bases.”

  I held up the box of tampons before dropping them back into the basket, watching as Rocco rolled his eyes.

  I loaded the basket up with things before we made our way to the cash register. The kind woman rang us up, and I couldn't help but notice the way her eyes ran up and down Rocco’s body. I grinned up at him, watching as his eyes panned up. I looked up and saw the cameras facing us, then I snickered and shook my head.

  Of course, the man would be paying more attention to the cameras than to a woman who was flirting with him.

  “Your total comes to $186.54,” the cashier said.

  I saw Rocco’s head whip down to me as I handed her my card.

  “Don’t look so shocked. You think keeping up these fine looks of mine is cheap?” I asked, grinning.

  But all Rocco did was dance his eyes between mine. And I wasn’t sure why.

  “You two have a wonderful day,” the cashier said.

  “And you as well,” I said coolly.

  But before I could grab the bags of toiletries, Rocco snatched them off the counter for me.

  We walked a few more blocks down to the grocery store and I grabbed a cart for us. Rocco slung the bags from the pharmacy into the cart, then took it from me as we began walking through the store. I led us over to the produce section and started plucking some things from the bins. Some tomatoes. A few sweet onions. Baby carrots. Some fresh broccoli. I wanted to make a pot roast. At least, that was one of the things I wanted to make. I grabbed a bag of honeycrisp apples and a couple bags of salad mix. We walked around the store, piling things into the cart until it was over halfway full.

  “Do you have a meat you prefer?” I asked.

  Rocco’s eyes looked over at me before he reached into the cart. He pulled out the package of chicken wings and bounced it in my vision before crashing it back into the cart of food. I shook my head as I walked back over to the chicken. I picked up five other packages of chicken wings and poured them into the cart.

  Rocco audibly groaned at my actions, and just that small taste of his voice sent fire burning in my gut.

  “Well, I think that’ll hold us for another week or so. Come on, let’s go pay and get ourselves a taxi. I’m hard-pressed to believe you’ll be able to carry all of this back to my place,” I said, giggling.

  But when we got to the cash register, Rocco stepped in front of me.

  “Hey, what are you--?”

  Every time I tried to pull something out of the cart, he stopped me. Every time I tried to sneak in front of him to get to the cashier, he stuck his arm out to stop me. I didn’t understand what he was doing or why he was doing it. But, every time I tried to interject and help, he wouldn’t let me.

  “That’ll be $356.32,” the cashier said.

  And when I saw Rocco go for his wallet, I held up my hand.

  “Oh, no you don’t. These are my groceries. You won’t pay for them,” I said.

  His hardened steel gaze locked with mine as he slid his wallet out of his pocket. I swallowed thickly as he slid his card out, not letting go of my gaze. He handed it to the cashier and I went to go reach for my wallet, but the cock of his head stopped me in my cracks. Every movement he made was intentional. Filled with a communicative depth I’d never seen in another person before. His eyes bubbled with words he didn’t have to speak. The movement of his body was cushioned with emotions he didn’t have to put into words for me to understand.

  I slowly slipped my wallet back into my purse, letting Rocco pay for the groceries.

  He pushed the cart out onto the road silently. I stood by him, trying to get a read on him. Trying to figure out why he had been so adamant about paying for that food. Rocco held his hand in the air and summoned us a taxi. It pulled up to the curb before the driver took one look at us and popped his trunk.

  “Time to go home,” I said.

  But when I went to go pick up some bags of groceries to help Rocco put them in the back of the taxi, he put his hand out.

  “What? I can’t even help you put them away?” I asked.

  And all he answered me with was a point of his finger. Straight into the back seat of the taxi.

  Rocco

  Five hours. We’d been gone for five fucking hours. Much longer than any amount of time I had ever figured we would have been gone. Two places. Five hours. How the hell we had managed that, I still wasn’t sure. Thank fuck I had my cell phone hooked up to the programs running on my laptop. Because the thing was going off like fireworks. I rode next to Charity in the taxi, stealing glances at her as she gazed out the window. She had her leg crossed over her knee and her arms wrapped around her chest. Like she was closing herself off from something.

  Hopefully
, it wasn’t me.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and began sifting through the endless notifications. Even though we had only walked six blocks between the two stores, it was taking this fucking taxi driver forever to get us back. That was the issue with taking any sort of ground transportation in the city. No matter how far someone had to go, it always took you an eternity to get there. There was always an accident or always a roadblock or always a fucking street light that wasn’t working.

  A text message from Matthew popped up onto my phone that pulled me out of my own mind.

  Loretta Stone. That’s the woman’s name.

  I lost myself in the endless notifications on my phone. I swiped through them, digesting them and taking them all in. I looked at the notifications from the traffic cam program I had running on my laptop while we were gone. Apparently, the truck Jose Gonzalez’ stole had been spotted just down the black from Charity’s place. Two intersections down, to be exact. I pulled up a picture of the license plate and the pictures taken at the intersection, but I couldn't tell who was driving the damn thing.

  Then, I went into my email and started reading through the snippet messages Matthew and my team had sent me over the course of the last few hours.

  Of course, all this shit happened while we were out.

  Found a number to a burner phone Gonzalez calls the most. Tracking down a name now.

  I got the pictures your traffic cam software is pulling. Got the tech department analyzing things now.

  I’ve sent you a map of the truck’s movements. It doesn’t look good, Rocco. Where the fuck are you two?

  I flipped back to Matthew’s initial text message. Loretta Stone. That must be the name connected with the damn burner phone. I had other flash text messages from Matthew that came pouring in. And all of it was information attached to this woman. A picture of her face. Her basic information. What she did for a living. What places she frequented the most. My eyes danced across her picture. Thick black hair. Tanned skin that looked as if she had fried herself one too many times in a tanning bed. Gaudy makeup. Bright red lips. Pale blue eyes.

  Her look was distinctive, I had to give her that.

  According to the information Matthew was bombarding me with, she held two part-time jobs. She worked as a part-time librarian at the library across town and she worked part-time as a barista at a coffee shop not too far down the road from the hospital.

  From Charity’s hospital.

  Message after message of information. Her hobbies. Her last known address. The last place she was spotted, which was coming out of the library an hour ago. I toggled back to the map of the truck’s route Matthew had sent me. Apparently, the damn thing was out on display today. The dark green Chevy truck had been clocked in almost every major part of New York City. The damn thing had even been at the Hamptons earlier that morning. But as I zoomed in on the map and started looking at the specific places where the truck had spent time, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  An hour and a half ago, the truck had parked outside of Miss Stone’s library and sat in wait.

  I looked over at Charity as the taxi pulled up to her front door. I had no idea what the fuck was going on, but I had to get her back inside. I had to get her locked down. None of this looked good. None of this sat right with me. And with that damn truck being spotted so close to her place, fuck only knew what was being planned. Or what was happening, in general. There was just enough to know Charity was in trouble, but not enough to pinpoint the kind of trouble she was in.

  “Rocco? Is everything okay?” Charity asked.

  My phone rang out in my hand and I looked down at it. I saw Matthew was calling, and I knew it had to be important. I whipped my eyes back up to Charity and watched her shake her head, then she opened up her door and slid out of her seat. I winced as she closed the taxi door a little too hard and picked up the phone call. I propped my cell phone up onto my shoulder as I slid out my wallet, listening as the driver opened the trunk for Charity.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m shocked I haven’t heard from you at this point,” Matthew said.

  I pulled out some money for the taxi driver and slapped it into his hand.

  “Been kind of busy this morning,” I said.

  “Morning? It’s two o’clock in the--. Nevermind. Are you up to date with the information I sent you?”

  “I’m getting there, yes.”

  “I just got the last piece of information we needed confirmed.”

  “And what piece of information is that?” I asked as I opened my car door.

  “Loretta Stone is the fucking president of Skylar Lane’s biggest fanclub. She has to be the one who’s behind this, Rocco. She ticks all the damn boxes. No other phone calls Gonzalez has placed within the last few months would make sense. And with the frequency of those phone calls, I’d bet my soul that Loretta Stone is who we’re looking for. The other party in this duo.”

  I froze, my foot settling hard onto the asphalt of the road. And suddenly, all of the pieces started falling into place. The truck route. The sighting of that truck so close to Charity’s home. The verbiage in the letters.

  “Rocco? You there?” Matthew asked.

  “Gotta go,” I said.

  I hung up the phone and pulled the map in my email back up. The map Matthew had made for me of all the places that truck had been just today. I slowly stood up from the taxi and kept track of all the stops the truck made that were longer than five minutes. I heard Charity grunting as she pulled out groceries. I looked up from my phone just long enough to see her hauling a very large number of bags slowly to her front door.

  “No, thanks. I don’t need the help. I’m good,” Charity breathed.

  I looked back down at my phone. A hardware store. Walmart. A warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Three separate drug stores. Red flags and sirens went off in my head as my heart stopped in my chest. I toggled over to my messages with Matthew before my thumbs flew across the screen. I typed out what I needed as quickly as I could, then I sent the message off.

  I needed to know what was being purchased at those stops.

  “Rocco! I could really use some help!” Charity exclaimed.

  I slipped my phone into my pocket and looked back, watching as she rested at the top of her porch steps. I made my way for the truck of the taxi and went to reach in to grab some bags. But, something moved in the corner of my eye. Something shining. Something big.

  Something green.

  I looked over at the object and saw a truck rolling up the road. My eyes danced along it, taking in the disheveled nature of the truck. I saw the Chevy on the front of the truck as it approached me. Slowly rolling down the road, as if it didn’t have a care in the world. My body turned completely toward the vehicle. My eyes darted to the driver of the truck as they rolled closer to me. I caught sight of those pale blue eyes. That thick raven hair piled high on top of her head. Those gaudy red lips and that thick eyeliner that painted her to look like a fucking raccoon.

  Jose Gonzalez wasn’t driving that truck.

  Loretta Stone was.

  The truck increased its speed a little bit as it approached me, and my hand reached out for its bed. I wasn’t letting this bitch get away. Not when she was right there. I slammed my hand down onto the truck and jogged alongside it, my eyes falling to the license plate.

  Oh, it was definitely the truck we had been looking for.

  I slid a knife out of my pocket, ready to jam it into one of the tires of the truck. I wasn't letting this woman get away. I had to get her. I grabbed onto the back of the truck and stepped up onto the edge of the bed, swiveling the knife around in my hand. The blade was exposed as I hoisted it into the air. Preparing to bring it down into the tire of the true. But, the the vehicle jerked to the side before I could slam down into the rubber, tossing me to the curb. The sounds of metal scraping metal hit my ears. The truck side-swiped several cars parked on the side of the road to tr
y and recover from its reckless swerving.

  I could have sworn I heard that woman giggle as she drove off.

  I stood up to my feet and swiveled my knife around, tucking the blade away. And when I caught the side mirror on the driver’s side of the truck, I saw her smiling. She had been giggling. She had been completely gleeful at the fact that she had thrown me from that truck. But, it sent off more red flags in my head. It sent another unanswered question bouncing off the corners of my mind.

  Why the hell was she risking driving by Charity’s home in broad fucking daylight?

  I turned back around to the brownstone and saw Charity with a determined look on her face. She jammed her key into her front door as she struggled with the groceries. Completely unaware of what was going on. My head whipped back around in the direction the green truck had been heading. I watched it careen around the corner, squealing its tires and kicking up smoked rubber. Then, I watched the truck park itself at the intersection. On the side of the road.

  With a clear and visible shot of Charity’s front door.

  I turned on the balls of my feet and went soaring for Charity’s stoop. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but it wasn’t good. That woman was perching herself to watch a show, and I needed to figure out what that show was before it took off. I took off on my feet as Charity slid her keys back into her pocket, and I watched as she turned the doorknob pushing her front door open.

  It was then I caught it. It was then my mind finally put the last few pieces in place. It was then I realized what was being purchased at all of those places that damned trucked had stopped off at all day.

  It was then I realized why the truck was risking being at Charity’s home in the middle of the day.

  I saw the faintest glint of a shining wire as the afternoon sun beat down onto our backs. I launched myself back up the pavement, trying to get to Charity before that bomb went off. Before her front door tripped that trigger and sent her flying backward. But, when I saw her put her hip into the door, my heart stopped in my chest.