by Violet Paige
It was bound to feel that way. Everything inside was made of steel and reinforced glass. It was a fortress. I had personally supervised the installation of Taylor Securities latest tech. It was impenetrable. I used the penthouse to test all our prototypes. If it didn’t meet my standards, it never moved from research and development.
I glanced at the screen as the anchors ran through back-to-school hacks for parents. They clutched cups of coffee and grinned, showing off their white teeth. I muted the TV.
“Is there anything else, sir?” She asked the same questions each morning.
“Make sure there are no changes. You’ve done an excellent job of managing my time today, as usual.” It was a compliment of sorts.
“Of course, Mr. Taylor. There will be no changes.”
I walked to the doorway of the master suite. The brunette from last night was tangled in my sheets. Her long legs were toned. Her toenails painted in red. I remembered how they looked last night bouncing on my shoulders as I fucked her.
Vickie Riley and I for drinks last night in the lobby of my building under the guise she wanted a marketing contract. She claimed to be an expert in online data. She threw out snappy catch phrases like SEO and high CPC returns. I drank bourbon and listened, knowing full well her only intention was to make it upstairs.
Serious business women didn’t meet clients at 9:00 wearing fuck-me heels and mini-skirts. The way her boobs spilled out of her top didn’t give her much professional credit either. I took her cues and after two drinks took her upstairs. I admitted her lips looked good wrapped around my cock.
There wasn’t going to be a contract. I didn’t do business with women I fucked.
I turned from the room, closing the door.
“Thanks, Eileen. I’ll be in the office—”
My eyes landed on the breaking news banner flashing on the screen. There was a special news report.
I reached for the remote, listening to each word. Confused. Numbed with shock. It was as if there was a buzzing sound coming from their mouths and not actual English.
I saw the pictures. The chaos. Flashing lights and sirens blaring.
“Actress Abi Lawrence has been rushed to L.A.’s Saint Simmons Medical Center. Authorities say her attacker is still on the loose and should be considered armed and dangerous. We are waiting for Lawrence’s spokesperson to update us on her condition. We can confirm she was shot this morning as she exited her gym in Hollywood. Witnesses at the scene say there was blood, and the beloved actress was unconscious.
“There is a second victim in the attack. We’re awaiting details while this story develops. Miss Lawrence was recently nominated as Best Actress for her role in Under Water Love.”
I blinked, scanning the news scroll. I saw her name. I saw the blood splatters on the sidewalk. I heard what they said, but putting the words and the scenes together was like trying to make the opposite ends of magnets meet. Everything in me wanted to reject what I heard and saw.
“Mr. Taylor? Are you there, sir?” Eileen’s voice felt faraway as if she were in a tunnel.
I swallowed hard. My chest tightened.
I pressed the phone to my ear. The buzzing hadn’t stopped. “Eileen, there has been an emergency. I need you to call the TS pilot. Abi—” I stopped myself from going into details and wasting seconds. “I’m headed to the jet immediately. We leave for LA as soon as he can get us in the air.”
“Sir?”
“Do it,” I gritted my teeth, unable to look away from the images of Abi. “Please.”
“And your schedule?” she eked.
“Cancel it. All of it.”
“Yes sir. I will handle it.”
“Thank you.”
“And sir?”
“Yes?” I paced the penthouse.
“If I can help—”
“I know. I’ll call from L.A..”
I shoved the phone in my pocket and grabbed my jacket. The door clicked behind me and I hurried to the elevator. I didn’t care that Vickie was still asleep and I’d left every light on.
Somewhere Abi was lying in a hospital. She was all that mattered and I had to get to L.A.
2
Abi
I cringed. The beeping was loud. So deafening I tried to reach out and swat at whatever was near me. It was like an aggravating mosquito I couldn’t find in the dark. But my hands were listless. Useless. I struggled to move the right and then the left, but nothing happened.
Could someone please turn off that alarm?
Ouch!
Something jabbed my upper arm like a fire poker. Did someone inject hot lava in my body? It hurt enough to make me cry, but even my tear ducts were unresponsive. And then there was a sudden feeling of floating. It was soothing, actually. A nice change from whatever was happening around me. I tried to reach out again, but I gave in to the warmth coursing up my arm and stopped fighting.
Hey, this is pretty nice. Just floating and drifting.
The beeping wasn’t as irritating. The fire was gone from my arm. And I could sleep.
Something I hadn’t done in weeks.
I wasn’t the kind of woman who could afford the luxury of sleep. A seventy-million dollar beach house, sure but a nap—no way.
Who could nap when award season was around the corner? No one slept during this time of the year. I had meetings with designers. There were gowns to choose. Diamonds to pair. And someone had to decide what shape to file my nails. Every element of my look was choreographed. The dietician went over my strict meal guidelines. Sometimes I thought if I looked at a carb, I’d be zapped. And then there was Javier.
He was relentless. We met at the movement club, a Hollywood term for the place where I got my ass kicked every morning at 5am. My stomach had to be flat to fit in the gowns. My arms had to look sculpted. And my booty had to be round. It was Javier’s job to make sure I was molded into some kind of impossible Barbie doll.
But there were plenty of other reasons I couldn’t sleep besides the stress of being nominated. By the time I crawled into bed at night I was exhausted. Ready to sleep for three days. But instead I stared at the ceiling, warding off fear. Fear that another round of nightmares would start. By the time I fell asleep I had an hour or two before I had to get up and meet Javier.
It was the same thing every day.
I heard someone call my name.
“Abi, can you hear us?”
Of course I could hear them. They were standing next to me. But my mouth refused to cooperate with my brain.
“She needs to get into surgery.”
“Is she going to have scars?” I recognized Ralph’s voice. When had they called my manager?
“Someone from plastics will be there. It’s the underside of her arm. I wouldn’t be concerned.”
“Wouldn’t be concerned? You do realize that’s Abi Lawrence? Her pinky finger is worth more than your entire body.” Ralph’s voice was the highest-pitched in the room.
I thought Ralph was being overly dramatic and rude. It usually came off as charming, but right now it made him sound like a dick.
“Miss Lawrence is in excellent care. I’d like to take her into surgery to stop this bleeding. She’s not clotting on her own. And our plastics team will do their best to ensure minimal scarring.”
There was a long pause and I waited to hear how Ralph would handle the information.
“Fine. But if it’s not absolutely perfect there will be a lawsuit.”
Shit, Ralph. I don’t want to sue anyone.
“Let us help her. I understand you’re worried, but it doesn’t do anyone any good to start threatening legal battles before we even have her stable.”
Stable? I’m not stable?
My stomach flipped before twisting into a permanent knot.
The calm man continued, “Once she’s out of surgery we can assess if there are any significant brain injuries. But the bump on the back of her head is indicative of the hard hit she took on the pavement. I see no signs of a concu
ssion. We have to stop this bleeding first.”
“Why isn’t she awake then?” Ralph asked.
Good question. I’d like an answer.
There was a buzz of activity around me. I couldn’t open my eyes to see it, but I could feel it. Everything had shifted into another gear and there were more people in the room. People were whispering as they moved in all directions.
My body started to float and I realized I was being rolled somewhere. The wheels squeaked on linoleum.
Ralph called,” Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be right here waiting for you. You’ve got this.”
A chill ran through me. Isn’t that what Javier said just before… Before… I couldn’t remember. Something in me told me not to try and figure it out. It was better to follow the sleep. Just sleep.
3
Reid
I hated hospitals. Fucking despised them. This one wasn’t any better. High-dollar art on the walls and classical music in the waiting rooms didn’t erase the smell of antiseptic in the air. They could lay as many tiles of marble that they wanted and set out expensive orchids—it didn’t change what this place was. Celebrities died and decayed like everyone else. I wondered if they thought if they could make it glossy and shiny, the outcome would be different.
My two best agents followed closely behind me.
It shouldn’t have been so easy for me to gain access to this wing. I glared at the security guard watching as I walked past. Amateurs. They had no business being in charge of people’s safety. The press was camped outside
Room 321.
I wasn’t ready for this.
“Wait here,” I directed the agents.
I pushed open the door. Ralph Peacock hopped up from his seat, balancing three different cell phones in his hands.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he screeched.
But I didn’t answer. My eyes were on her. Abi was still. Her pale blue eyes were closed and for a second my heart felt as if someone had shredded it. It was hard to breathe. She shouldn’t be in that bed.
“How did you get in here, Reid?” Peacock was agitated. It didn’t take much to rile him up.
My eyes landed on him.
“How did this happen?”
He shook his head. “You really think she wants you here? I didn’t call you.”
My eyes narrowed. “I asked you a question.”
Ralph nodded for me to follow him to the hallway. He closed the door behind us.
“I don’t know what Abi can hear,” he explained. “We shouldn’t argue in front of her.”
“I don’t see a need to argue.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Good.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I want a full debrief. Every witness account. Every photograph from the scene. I need the full rundown of her schedule for the past two weeks and any cross-referenced encounters.”
Ralph rolled his eyes. “You haven’t been on Abi’s security detail in two years. Not since you became Mr. Billionaire. Don’t think you can prance in here with your hot agents and take over. You aren’t in charge of Abi. I am.”
I huffed. “Look what happens when you’re in charge. She gets shot.” I wanted to wrap my hand around his neck. “Get me what I asked for.”
“You’re not my boss. Abi is.”
“Trust me. I have no interest in hiring you, Ralph. But until the suspect is in custody, Abi isn’t safe. And I’m taking over. I can protect her. You clearly aren’t cut out for it.” I glared at him. His brow perspired.
He sputtered. “I’m not a bodyguard. I’m her manager. Don’t put this on me. She makes her own security calls.”
“And who lets her do that? Where is the guard for her door? Where was her bodyguard this morning?”
He blinked. “She went to the gym.”
I groaned. “See? You don’t understand how important her security is 24-7. It’s not part-time. It’s never part-time. Get me the information. And I want to speak to her doctor immediately. She needs to be moved tonight.”
“Tonight? She just got out of surgery. Dr. Mills wants her to rest.”
I fought the urge to let my heart rip open again. Abi should never have had surgery. She shouldn’t be here. There was an attack on her life and Ralph had no idea how to handle it. She needed me now more than ever. I had to stay focused and get her out of here.
“I’ll take care of her from here on out.” I turned for the door, making it clear he wasn’t stepping foot back inside until I had what I wanted. My agents flanked the entrance behind me.
Ralph twisted his lips together. “Fine. But don’t upset her. Just stay quiet. She needs calm right now. Don’t even talk to her. Ok?”
I nodded and walked inside room 321.
I took the chair in the corner and watched Abi sleep. Her auburn hair was pulled to the side in a braid.
I should have been here. I could have stopped this from happening. I could have kept her safe.
Two years ago I walked away. Turned my back on her.
Watching her sleep like this, I couldn’t remember why. I couldn’t come up with a single reason why I wasn’t spending my life with her. What happened to us?
My elbows dug into my knees as I bowed forward.
The machine beside her beeped.
I did something I never did—I prayed.
I swore then and there, that I would never leave Abi unprotected again.
4
Abi
I didn’t want to wake up. This bed was deliciously comfortable. But my head was pounding and I was thirsty. I could get up, grab some aspirin, and crawl back into this perfect bed. I could stay here all day and relax. Wouldn’t that be a luxury? I could do something people thought movie stars did all the time.
I let one eye open and then another.
I shrieked when I saw the stern woman sitting next to me.
“Who are you?” I croaked. My voice was hoarse.
“Look who’s awake.” She patted my wrist. “I’m your nurse.” Her hair was pulled back and she had deep lines on her forehead.
“Nurse?”
The headache pounded at the base of my skull. I looked around. I didn’t recognize this room. I wasn’t in my Malibu beach house. I looked over her shoulder at the towering trees outside. Nothing looked familiar, yet I felt a strange connection to the room.
She rose, placing the back of her hand on my forehead. “Yes, Mr. Taylor hired me.”
“Mr. Taylor?” I eyed her. “You don’t mean Reid Taylor?”
I tried to sit up. Everything was wrong. As I pushed into the bed with my elbows a stinging pain shot through my arm. I looked down at the bandage wrapped against my left bicep.
“Yes. He has personally seen to everything. He’s been worried,” she whispered. “But I knew you’d be fine. Just a scratch on the arm and a bump on the head. Just a few stitches here and there.” She smiled. “But he wanted everything a certain way. His instructions.” She smiled. “Don’t know that I’ve met a man like him before.”
I think she was trying to comfort me, but I still hadn’t processed I was here, wherever here was, because of Reid.
“No fever,” she reported.
I smiled weakly. “That’s great.”
I had a thousand questions for the nurse. How had I ended up here? What did Reid have to do with it? Where did this raging headache come from? And could I please just get up and go pee?
But as she finished up her basic examination the air shifted.
I didn’t have to hear his voice to know he was in the room. My body knew. It always had an uncanny Reid radar installed under the skin.
“Why didn’t you page me?” he asked the nurse.
“She’s only been awake a few minutes, sir.”
They spoke as if I weren’t here between them.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to look in his eyes. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I closed my eyes, praying the nurse would stay as a buffer bet
ween us.
“You may leave us,” he dismissed her casually. “I’d like to talk to Miss Lawrence.”
She reached for a canvas bag and walked out. As soon as the nurse was gone I knew I was trapped.
“How are you feeling?” Reid asked. He walked closer.
“Terrible,” I answered.
“Are you in pain? I have every medication you were prescribed. I can get you anything you want,” he offered. “Possible more.”
I shook my head. “No,” I lied. “That’s not necessary.”
“That’s a positive sign.”
“Sign for what?”
He rubbed the scruff along his jaw. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. I was afraid to study his face any closer. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to gaze into his eyes. Oh no. Not happening.
“That your recovery is going well,” he answered.
“Right my recovery.” I followed the mound of blankets where my toes wiggled at the foot of the bed. The nurse had layered several quilts on top of me.
I hated being in this position. He knew something I didn’t. He understood the circumstances and what had happened. He knew the nurse and knew this bedroom. My fingers curled around the soft comforter in frustration. I hated being at a disadvantage, and especially in front of Reid.
“Abi, don’t you remember what happened to you?”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Of course I do.”
“Abi.” His voice was stern and controlling.
How many times had I heard that tone? But it had been two years since I had been in a room with Reid. Two long years of doing everything in my power to erase his memory. Erase the hold he had on me.
“What?” I refused to look at him.
His finger landed on the underside of my chin as his tilted it upward.
“Do you know why I brought you to Big Bear? Do you remember anything about the attack yesterday?”
If I stared at his chest it would be better. I tried to tell myself not to think about how sculpted and chiseled it was. How muscle met muscle in hard angles under his crisp white shirt. I spotted the gun tucked at his waist. Holy shit. It was black and sleek.
