Celebrity Dirt: A Fake Relationship Romantic Suspense Standalone

by J. D. Hollyfield

  When the sun is up enough and starting to blind me, I decide I’ve had my fill of moping. Now I’m just pissed. If he thinks he’s going to stop me, he’s way wrong. I throw my legs off the bed and prepare for a fight as I open his door and storm down the hall. “Listen here, you…jerk…” I look around the living room, but he’s not there. The couch is empty. I stomp into the kitchen. “Listen here…Logan?” Where the heck is he? I spot a note on the counter.

  Had to make a run. Don’t fucking leave.

  —L

  “Don’t fucking leave,” I mimic as I crumple it up and throw it. “Ugh!” He’s such a jerk! I wish I never ran into Francesca Vaughn, never showed up at that stupid gala, and I wish I never met him! I stalk back through his house and throw myself onto his bed.

  I wish I could rewind time. Never steal her invitation. Remain the passive, plain associate journalist no one paid attention to. Speaking of work, I wonder if I’ve been fired. I haven’t had my phone all week, so who knows if Craig has attempted to call me. Or fire me over email. I wonder if anyone has fed my fish? Poor guy. He’s an innocent victim in all this.

  Once this is all over, I still need a job to go back to, so I decide to get up and shower, then disobey Logan because he’s a jerk, and head into work in hopes I’m still employed. Once I tell Craig my story, there’s no way he’ll can me.

  I take a shower, smelling Logan’s shampoo, then become angry that I miss him. How can I even care about someone who’s nothing but rude and heartless to me? Because he’s all sorts of bad boy hotness. Not the point. Shuffling through my backpack, I slip on a cotton maxi skirt and decide to pair it with one of Logan’s black t-shirts. If he notices one gone, he can consider it a parting gift. Along with the two hoodies I’ve stolen. I open his top dresser drawer and take a shirt out, bringing it to my nose and inhaling. God, Addy, you’re pathetic. Shaking off my moment of delirium, I toss it on and tie the bottom into a knot because I don’t want to look like a complete hobo when I beg to keep my job.

  My mood is sullen as I look around Logan’s place one last time and open the front door to—“Jesus almighty!” I yelp when a person is standing there.

  “Not Jesus, baby, but you can call me whatever you like.” My stomach turns at Chino’s comment.

  “Not a chance. Logan’s not here, so if you’ll excuse me.” I try side-stepping him, but he moves in front of me. “Move.”

  “Can’t. Got orders.”

  “And like I said, Logan’s not here. Feel free to wait inside for him.”

  I start to move again, but he grabs my shoulder. “Not here for Logan. Here for you.” His crude smile sends a tremor of unease down my spine.

  “Get your hands off me,” I hiss, but he only laughs.

  “Don’t worry, princess. I have strict instructions not to harm you in any way. That’s my boss’s job.” He latches onto my arm and pulls me off the stoop toward his car. Don’t get into the car, Addy.

  “I’m not going with you—” I grunt as he opens the door and shoves me inside. So, I guess I’m getting in the car. When he rounds the vehicle, I try to escape, but go figure, the child locks are on, and I’m trapped. “Come on!”

  Chino climbs in and turns the key over in the ignition.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  He speeds through the streets until we’re back in the chaos of the city. He finally pulls up to what looks like a small brownstone. “Vincent is meeting us here?”

  “Shhh…no hints.” He jumps out and comes around to my door. I’m hesitant to follow. Something doesn’t feel right about this. My mother always told me to trust my intuition, and right now, it’s telling me do not get out of this car. Chino opens my door and extends his hand for me to take.

  “You know, I’m good—” Fudge! He grabs my arm and hauls me out. I stumble over my own feet, trying to jump up onto the curb and he drags me up the walkway. Jamming my heels into the ground, I stop and attempt to pull my arm from his grip. He releases me. “I can walk on my own, thanks.” I scoff at him and walk the rest of the way, my stomach twisting in knots. We make it to the front door, and he kicks it open.

  “Ladies first.”

  I’ve watched enough spy movies to know to never put my back to the enemy. So I’m not sure why I don’t take my own advice as I walk in first. The second I step over the threshold, Chino’s hands jam into my back and I go flying forward. I trip, slamming my knees on the tiled floor.

  Chino laughs cruelly while I compose myself. “What the heck?” I snap, trying to get up, but he pushes me back to the ground. My hands skid, and a thick shard of glass slices into my palm. “Ouch!” I wail as searing pain shoots up my wrist.

  “Oops. My bad.” He shuts the door and locks it, then walks over me toward the kitchen. I raise my head, eyes following him. The house is in shambles. Someone ransacked it, destroying everything. Looking across the room, I take in the shattered picture frames on the floor.

  My breath hitches when I recognize the woman in the photos. Francesca Vaughn. My eyes frantically search more of my surroundings. No. no. no… Why are we in her house? I pull myself off the ground, my palm dripping blood.

  I follow where Chino went and gasp. Francesca Vaughn is bloodied and bound, tied to a chair. “Chino, what are you doing? What’s going on?”

  “Sit, sit.” He waves his gun toward a chair.

  “No, I’m good standing. Where’s Vincent?”

  Chino’s laugh is loud and fiendish. “Oh, that? Yeah, that was a little fib to get you to come with me.”

  I peel my eyes away from him to Francesca. Tears mixed with blood from a cut across her cheek stream down her face. “Why?”

  “Why what? I thought you would be happy to be reunited with an old friend.”

  I glance back at Francesca. “I don’t know her—”

  “Oh, come on now. Let’s not do that. It’s gonna hurt her feelings, isn’t it?” Chino brings his gun to her ear, and she jerks away, a muffled sob escaping her gagged mouth. “You’re seriously gonna tell me you don’t know each other?”

  I slowly nod. “I don’t know her.”

  “Interesting, because she tells me a different story. That you stole her invitation to the gala and showed up as her.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “It would make sense. Logan’s strange behavior. Suddenly claiming you’re his precious girlfriend.”

  I put my hands up, cautiously surrendering to his crazy. “You’re wrong. Logan is my boy—”

  “Cut the bullshit. You ain’t shit to Justice. And I want to know why he’s covering for you.”

  “He’s not. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never met her, so we can just go—”

  “If you don’t know her, then you won’t be too upset when I do this.” He aims his gun at Francesca’s temple and pulls the trigger. Wetness splatters across my face as the bullet exits through the other side. Her head drops forward, and a scream rips from my throat. I turn around to run, but Chino is behind me, grabbing a chunk of my hair.

  “Let me go!” I cry, and he tackles me to the ground.

  “Not just yet, baby doll.” His heavy weight has me at a disadvantage. He flips me, his hands capturing my wrists and wrenching them above my head. “Think Logan would mind if I got a taste of his precious girlfriend?” I kick and yell as he shoves his free hand up my shirt and exposes my bra. “Not working with much I see.”

  “Please don’t,” I beg, trying to free myself.

  “Not a chance I’m stopping. Gotta see what has Logan and my boss so worked up. I’ll report back just how sweet you are. Bet you’re tight as fuck too. Do me a favor and beg while I’m fucking you. Turns me on.” He drags his hand down my belly and yanks at the waistline of my skirt until his hand disappears. I cry out.

  “Fuck, you got me hard as fuck. You gonna wet my fingers with your magical pussy too?” His fingers find my sex, and he moans, loosening his tight grip on my wrists.
I jerk my hand free and reach for some glass from a photo frame. Locking it inside my grip, I stab it into his side.

  Chino howls out in pain and falls to the side. I scurry up to my feet and run toward the door. He jumps at me, but I dodge him and rip open the door. I’ve never run so fast in my life, my feet slamming against the pavement as I sprint toward the street. I don’t dare look behind me to see if he’s following me. My legs burn by the time I make it to a busier street. A blaring horn honks at me and swerves as I run into the middle of the intersection. I throw my hands up for someone to stop for me, and almost get taken out by a delivery truck. Two more cars fly past, swerving around me until a wide-eyed old man stops an inch short of splattering me across his windshield.

  “Oh my God, thank you!” I shout and hurry over to the passenger side. I rip open the door and fling myself inside. The poor man is pale as a ghost. “I need you to take me to a police station!”

  “Oh my, little missy, you can get yourself killed running into traffic like that—”

  “I know, please. Just…can you just drive?” My head whips toward the direction I came from. Did he follow me? What if he saw what car I got into? “Please!” I raise my voice, scaring the poor man. My heart is beating so fast that I can’t catch my breath. He begins to drive, and I sit back, cradling my wounded hand to my chest. I force myself to take a breath, but my throat locks, and I heave out a sharp sob. The realization of what just happened starts to sink in. “Shit,” I hiss under my breath. Keep it together, Addy.

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  In my head, I’m screaming no. I’m far from okay. But I bite my tongue and force my head to nod. “Yeah, just please. Hurry.” I twist back to look out the window to make sure we’re not being followed. When we finally pull up to a police station, I’m shaking uncontrollably.

  I jump out of the man’s car, sputtering off a thanks, and run up the stairs to the building. “Help! Please, someone, help me!” I race up to the front desk. “Please! I need to speak to someone about a murder. And an attempted murder—”

  I scream at the sudden hand that reaches for me. My body trips backwards, and I throw my hands up in defense.

  “Whoa, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Officer Bauer.”

  I nod frantically. “Okay, okay. I need to speak to you about a murder. I was attacked. I think he may be following me.”

  The officer puts her hands up in surrender, so I understand she isn’t there to harm me. “Okay, we can do that.”

  “Now! I need to speak to someone now!”

  “Miss, just calm down. You’re safe now.”

  “I’m not! There’s this guy! He’s trying—he tried—he shot her right in front of me.” My bottom lip trembles so bad, I can’t finish my sentence. I shake my head, the pain in my hand throbbing violently. I look down, realizing I’m dripping blood on the floor. “Shit…I mean shoot…” I peer around the station. I’ve caused a scene. People are staring at me. “I need to—”

  “Okay. Just relax.” She attempts to reach for my hand, but I pull it away. “Miss, you look injured. Do you need medical attention—”

  “No!” I cry out. “I need someone to arrest him! He shot her right in front of me. Francesca Vaughn. He’s at her house. Go!” Another officer comes to assist.

  “Okay. Let’s get you into a private room, and you can tell us the details. Is that okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah—okay.” She wraps her arm around me for comfort and walks us down a long hallway. I’m on alert, waiting for Chino to jump out of the shadows and snag me. A man with his head down and a hood up over his head passes us, and I lean in closer to the officer. A badge flashing from his waist eases my paranoia. A faint, sweet scent has me looking over my shoulder, but he’s already turned the corner.

  “Just in here.” The officer opens the door to an interrogation room. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back with some bandages.”

  My foot taps rapidly against the cement floor. A chill washes over me, and I wrap my arms around myself but wince at the pain in my hand. I pull away. I’ve smeared blood all over Logan’s shirt. “Shoot.” I try to wipe it off but only smears it in more. The door opens, and I jump in my seat.

  “Sorry to startle you, Miss…”

  “Atticus Finch—just Addy.”

  “Ah, like the book. Harper Lee fan?”

  “Uh…yeah, my mom loved…listen, you have to help me.”

  The man takes a seat across from me and places a cup of water on the metal table. “Addy, I’m Special Agent Jake Bishop. I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He nods. “Thank you. So, I understand you’ve been through an ordeal. Can you backtrack and tell me what happened?” The female officer returns with a first-aid kit and kneels beside me. I allow her to tend to my hand.

  “Yes.” I try to catch my breath. “Yes…well…it’s a long story, but I stole an invitation to this gala. It was for a story, and I got caught up with this guy, Logan Justice, and he…”

  I don’t stop until I’ve spit out every detail, from the stolen invitation to Vincent Leoni and his drug and trafficking business to Francesca’s brains being splattered across her fancy kitchen. “You have to find him. He’s going to kill me!” By the time I finish, the chair is rattling against the cement I’m shaking so bad.

  Agent Bishop stops scribbling notes and closes his notepad. “Miss Finch, do you mind if I step out for a bit?”

  Confused, I shake my head. “No.” He smiles and leaves me alone. The clock tells me an hour has passed before he returns. This time, he’s not alone. The officer who first approached me and—

  “Logan.” I start to stand, but the agent stops me.

  “Miss Finch, stay seated.”

  “What? Why? Did you check the house? Logan, tell them.” I shoot up, glaring at Logan, but his blank stare stops me in my tracks. “Logan? What’s going on? Did you tell them about Vincent? About the girls?”

  I can’t pull my eyes away from him. He’s dressed as he always is, but there’s something out of character. My eyes fall to the waist of his jeans. A badge.

  “Miss Finch, can you please take a seat so we can talk?”

  “No. I certainly will not.”

  “Addy, sit down,” Logan barks, and I hate myself for listening to him.

  “What’s going on? I don’t understand.” My eyes dart back and forth in desperate need of answers.

  Logan steps forward. “Addy, my name…my real name is Logan Broderick. I work for the Drug Enforcement Administration under Chicago PD’s Crime Unit.” I blink rapidly, unable to process what Logan is telling me. I shake my head in denial. “I’ve been undercover for the past two years, working under Vincent Leoni and building a case against him to take him down.”

  A tightness forms in my chest. “What? No…”

  “I made a vital mistake when I approached you at the gala that night. I never planned for this shit to get so messed up. This is on me for getting you —”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear this.” I shake my head and close my eyes. I cover my ears.

  “Miss Finch—”

  “Jake, give us a minute.” I hear footsteps, then the opening and closing of the door. “Addy, look at me.”

  “No.” I squeeze my eyes tighter.

  He’s suddenly too close. His warm hand covers mine, and I scream, “Don’t touch me!”

  “Jesus, you’re bleeding through your bandage. Let me look at that.” I tear my eyes open and narrow them at Logan.

  “You’re a cop?” I question in disbelief.

  Guilt fills his eyes. “DEA.”

  I scoff cynically. “How fitting. You grew up to be exactly what you wanted.”

  “Addy, it’s not like—”

  “Like what? That you’ve been lying to me this whole time? Unbelievable.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.” He shoves his hands through his ha
ir, and his jacket hikes up, exposing his full badge. “You think this shit has been easy for me?”

  “Which part? Stealing my chance at a real story? Feeding me lies and sleeping with me so I would back down? Yeah, that must have been real hard. But I guess you have to do what you have to do to stay undercover—”

  “That has nothing to do with—”

  I take the cup of water and throw it at him. “Stop playing me for a fool. Gig’s up. You could have walked away from me. You didn’t have to go all savior on me and bring me into this ugly world.”

  He places his hands on the table and dips his head. “You’re right. I should have never taken advantage of you. I fucked up.”

  His confession hurts even worse. “Take advantage? Please. Who’s doing the undermining now?”

  “I’m not. I’m admitting I went too far. My job was to infiltrate Vincent’s life, not yours. I was selfish when it came to you. I should have never touched you.”

  A sob travels up my throat. “That’s right! You shouldn’t have!” I scream. “You should’ve never led me on to believe you cared for me.” I bite the inside of my cheek to fight back my tears.

  Logan tries to reach for me, but I quickly stand and move away from him. “Addy, I do care about you.”

  “Oh, please. You don’t have to pretend anymore—”

  “Jesus, I’m not pretending!”

  “I hate you.” The first tear falls. “I backed off for you.”

  He comes at me, stopping to shut off the camera above my head. “I didn’t plan for this shit to happen. I didn’t plan on you walking in instead of my target. I didn’t plan on wanting you the way I do.” I cover my ears, refusing to be tricked by his words. “Addy, look at me.” I shake my head. “Please.”

  “No. You’re a liar.”

  “I was doing my job—”

  “Feeding drugs to minors is your job? Aiding a human trafficking ring is your job? Killing innocent girls is part of your job? How many other people have you murdered to do your job?”