by Ruby Rowe
He rushes back into the room. “It’s the—”
“I know. What I don’t get is how they found us.”
“I didn’t see anyone following us. Someone on my security detail had to have leaked it. There’s no other explanation.”
“Holly, Harold, Kellen and Sydney would never tell.”
“Wait, how did Sydney find out?”
“That’s who I was texting right before we left my house. I told her we were going for a ride and Holly was our decoy.” Grabbing the back of his neck, Griffin mumbles obscenities.
“Surely, you know better than to think it was her. She has to deal with the press every day and understands what a headache it is.”
“I don’t know who did it, but what matters now is how we’re getting out of here. I have a car, but it’s not safe for the two of us to leave alone, and the windows aren’t tinted.”
“Harold will come, and Kellen and some of the other guards can follow.”
“I have to get my bike in the garage. I swear if they step foot on my property while I’m doing it, I’m shooting someone.”
“Griffin, calm down. I know you’ve dealt with this before, especially with Mindy.”
“Mindy wasn’t you, Ava, and the paparazzi weren’t at my home. They’re invading my privacy now, not only yours.”
I frown, feeling guilty for being the cause of this.
“I’ll get dressed and call Harold.”
“I’ll contact Kellen.” After Griffin and I get our clothes on, he leaves the bedroom to move his Harley. My phone rings, and I see that it’s Holly.
“Hello.”
“Ava, are you and Griffin OK? I can’t believe this is happening.”
“How do you know the paparazzi are here?”
“What do you mean? The photos of you two are all over the internet.”
Gripping my shirt at my chest, I sit on the bed. The dread I sense is like a nerve gas filling the room and stealing my breath.
“What photos?”
“Oh, no. You haven’t heard.”
“What pictures, Holly?”
“They have photos of you and Griffin on his deck. There are a few of you two sitting close, and then there’s one of you standing and hugging.”
“Shit, he’s going to flip. He’s already furious over what’s happening here. I don’t understand how we were followed.”
“I don’t, either. Look, I’ll call Harold to pick you up. You stay put, and try not to stress. I’ll meet you back at the house to get a game plan.”
“Yeah, sure.” I end the call, knowing there’s no game plan to get. Griffin and I are busted, which means Dominic is going to suspect I’m more than a client of his nephew’s.
I cover my face with my hands. God, what if the paparazzi figures out who Griffin’s father is? I don’t know what lengths he’s taken to prevent that.
The talk about our crime families would be monumental news, and not only in Hollywood. It would spread across the country like a forest fire until it reached New York, where there’d be the most catastrophic explosion of them all.
Dominic would surely meet his match with my father’s underboss, Victor. He’s not someone you want to piss off. Instead of deer heads above the fireplace, he probably has a jar of fingers on the mantel.
He’d want Griffin and me dead, and it’s what I tried to forget last night, after Griffin confessed his secrets, but this mess could end it all. It could end us.
“Ava, what’s wrong?” He drops to his knees in front of me and pulls down my hands.
“They have photos of us on your deck. We’re all over the internet.” Squeezing my hands, his lips purse, and it’s as if he’s looking through me. “Griffin, I’m so sorry.”
Finally coming back to me, he says, “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.”
“Dominic’s going to find out.”
“Yeah, he is, but I’ll deal with him after Angel’s wedding. My only priority is to get us home safely.”
“You say that like it’s yours, too.”
“Maybe I want it to be.”
“But you’re mad that everyone knows about us.”
“No, I’m mad they found out before I could fix this situation with Dom and because it’s not on our terms. I’m not upset that the world suspects we’re an item.”
“Really? Because I don’t mind them knowing. Wait, can they connect you and your father?”
“He was never added to my birth certificate, so it’d be hard.”
I cover my chest. “That’s a relief. It’s one less boss we have to deal with. Victor wouldn’t take the news well, but it should be safe for you to go to the wedding. I mean, as long as no one there knows besides my father.”
“They won’t.” He finally smiles. “I swear, though, baby, if anyone has pictures of me tied to this fucking bed, your ass will be so damn sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Laughing, I sling my arms around his neck and hug him.
“Last night was fun,” I say.
“Fun’s not the word I’d use. Spectacular, sinful, erotic ... to name a few. Come on, let’s go eat some cold pizza for breakfast before you end up tied to the bed.”
“I love you, and we’ve got this.”
“Yeah, we do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two Days Later
Ava
“May I have a word with you … alone?” Griffin asks from the doorway of my bedroom, so I look at Holly as she stacks a hand full of clothes neatly in my suitcase.
“Could you go pack up some meds, like Tylenol and Tums, please? God knows my head will be hurting and my stomach will be churning throughout the wedding festivities.”
“Sure.” She and Griffin pass each other as he walks over and kisses my forehead.
“What’s the problem? Aren’t you as busy as I am?” I ask.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been short in your texts today, and you’re obviously irritated now.”
“I have to spend the weekend with my mobster family. I’m sorry if it has me a little bitchy.” I don’t have time to tell him the other reason, which is due to how on edge he’s been since the media began harassing us.
I had to go shopping yesterday, and I thought Griffin was going to come out of his skin having the paparazzi in our faces. His anger toward them since we left his home a couple of days ago has only made them more aggressive.
The reporters keep baiting him, and I’m afraid he’s going to fall for it, which means someone’s going to get hurt, and it won’t be Griffin or me. As our relationship grows, so does his need to protect me.
“Ava.” Griffin takes hold of my arm to stop my rapid movement. I realize I’ve been shoving stuff in the suitcase on top of Holly’s neat stacks. Releasing a taxing breath, I rub my forehead.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be fine once we’re in the air and I can take a breather. It’s been a stressful few days.”
“Yes, it has been. I want you to know that the advanced team arrived at the hotel. They’re mapping the routes and sweeping the venue as we speak.
“The principal detail will be on the private jet with us, and the motorcade to the airport is ready. I need to solely focus on you this trip, so Kellen is the AIC.”
“Griffin, I don’t know all your bodyguard lingo, just get me from point A to point B safely and stay by my side so I know you’re safe around my family. It sounds like I’m not the only one stressed here.”
He clasps my chin. “I was trying to ease your mind, but maybe a punishment would get the point across better. It’s too bad we don’t have time for that.
“And don’t worry about me while we’re in New York. I can handle your family if the need arises.” After he gives me a stern look, he walks over to my vanity and studies it. His hands are in the pockets of his dress pants as his eyes roam over the glass top.
“Are you looking for something?”
Turning around, he examines my lips.
“I
see you’re wearing that sexy red lipstick every day now.”
“Yes, what was it you called it? Oh, give-me-dick lipstick. Do you not like it now?”
“No, I do. OK, I guess I should go. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Giving me a soft kiss, he leaves the room. That was odd, but I guess he’s not himself today, either.
***
“I’ll have a glass of chardonnay please,” I reply to the flight attendant. My mother and I are sitting on one of the loveseats, catching up on our flight to New York, but I’m distracted by her sickly appearance.
She doesn’t have long to live. I sense it, and it’s probably another secret my father is keeping from me. I understand why my mother couldn’t find the courage to tell me, but he should’ve.
I haven’t confronted him over hiring Griffin. This trip is stressful enough without creating a rift between us before we even arrive in Brooklyn, but boy has it taken restraint on my part.
I glance to Griffin as he sits in a leather seat to my right, facing the cockpit. He’s glaring straight ahead, and I don’t need to look to see who’s on the receiving end. I imagine Mickey is glaring back from where he’s chatting with my father seated across from him.
I’m sure the two alpha males purposely chose chairs facing opposite ends of the jet so they could keep an eye on one another. It’s going to be a long, damn weekend.
Holly’s farther down to our right, behind Griffin, working on her iPad, and beyond her is Kellen, along with members of my security detail.
I try to bring my attention back to my mother, but when I look at her again, I see she’s dozing off.
“Mom, why don’t you nap for a while?” I stand and set down my wine glass. “I’ll move to the chair by Griffin.” Without argument, she stretches out, so I cover her with the throw she brought on board. It smells like her, and I wish I could bottle it for later. I also wish I could put a lid on my tears that keep appearing.
I glance to Griffin, but his empathetic look only makes me tear up further, so I head to the front of the jet to use the restroom. As I pass by Mickey, he grabs my wrist, and I yank it away.
“I want to talk to you. You’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“There’s nothing to discuss, and you’re only on this jet because of my dad.”
“I want to know what’s going on between you and your bodyguard.”
“Mickey, it’s Ava’s private business,” my father says.
“Hardly, it’s being broadcast for all the world to see.” He gives Griffin a glare again, and if I don’t continue to the restroom soon, my boyfriend is going to be standing right next to me, confronting Mick.
“Tell him to back off so we can talk a minute. I think after all the years we spent together, you can give me that much.” Mickey loves to bring up our history because he knows it’s where my soft spot for him lies.
“Fine, but it’s going to be brief.” I walk back to Griffin, and with each step, my stomach feels as if it’s filling with rocks. “I’m going to use the restroom and then talk to Mickey for a few minutes.”
“Why?”
“He deserves an explanation about you and me after everything he’s seen on television.”
“He doesn’t deserve shit from you. Oliver even came before me, so why in the hell does Mickey still need an explanation about who you date?”
“Griffin, our family and friends are going to question him about me being with you, and they’ll possibly confront you, too. It’s going to be humiliating for him to be there with us. The Leoni family will always see me as Mickey’s girl regardless of the truth.”
He groans. “I don’t approve of you giving him your time, and don’t say shit like that. You’re not his.”
“Exactly, so give me a little space to put out my own fires. You need to trust me.”
“I do trust you. It’s him I don’t trust, and I don’t see how a conversation with him is going to make things any better.”
“And you say I’m the difficult one.” Not giving him a chance to respond, I head back to the restroom. The space is cramped enough, but add the crowding I feel from having Mickey and Griffin in the small quarters of this jet, and I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
Once I’m finished using the restroom, I dab my forehead with a little water and go to face my ex. I sit on the other loveseat, across from where he and my father are seated, and Mickey immediately comes over to join me.
“What do you want to know?”
“Are you in the midst of a mid-life crisis? First, you’re visiting BDSM dungeons—”
“It was one dungeon,” I interject as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
He rolls his eyes. “And now you’re having a fling with your much-younger bodyguard. Are you trying to humiliate me before I have to face the family?”
“Thank you, for adding the much younger part. I needed to be reminded of that. Don’t be an asshole, or I’m getting up.”
“I’m just saying, Ava, you were with an older man for years, so how else should I view this?”
“You should know I’m not the fling type. Before Griffin, I was only with you and Oliver. Unlike you, I was able to remain faithful the entirety of our relationship, and I must add how a lot of those years were long distance.”
“Exactly, sweetheart. Long-distance relationships are hard on a man, but to this day, you’re the only woman I’ve loved. It was just sex with the others.”
“God, I want to smack you right now.”
He grins. “I’m having an effect on you, which means you still have feelings for me. I’m confident you’ll come to your senses soon.” He grabs my hand, and like before, I jerk it away.
“If Griffin sees you touching me, he’ll break your arms. You’ve been warned.”
“Please keep an open mind while we’re in Brooklyn. I’ve decided to move back there, and I want you to consider doing the same. I told you it’s not too late for us to start a family. We belong together.”
I rub my forehead. “What part of we’re over do you not understand?”
“What part of I’m not giving up do you not understand?”
Turning away, I look out the window into the black abyss. I fear I’ll fall back into it, and I can’t let that happen.
“Mick, I love him. Griffin and I are in a serious relationship. Honestly, I love him like I’ve never loved anyone, including you. I don’t know how much clearer I can be than that.”
“You must want him dead.”
Stunned by his words, I look back at him.
“Is that a threat?”
“He’s about to be a long way from home is all I’m saying.”
“I swear if you sic the family on him, you’ll pay for it. I’ll shoot you myself since without Griffin, life will no longer matter to me.”
He rolls his eyes again, and it takes great effort not to hit him.
“Stop being dramatic. You hardly know Mr. Scott, and I’m sure like it was with Oliver, this too will end.” Standing, he tilts his glass of booze toward me.
“You better remember what I told you. I’m first and last, sweetheart. It’s what was meant to be for us.” He strolls back to his seat with a swagger he doesn’t deserve to own.
Huffing a breath, I cross my arms and march to the seat next to Griffin. I sit down harder than necessary and sling my head back against the headrest.
“As I suspected, it was a waste of your time.”
“Not now, Griffin.”
“You know what? I’m over this shit. You need to figure out what it’ll take for you to let that asshole go.” Getting up, he storms to the back of the jet, toward Kellen and the guys, so I twist around to look at him. “Griffin, wait.”
As everyone else stares at me, the shame sets in, and I turn back to face forward where Mick’s handsome mouth turns up into a smile. Oh, he’s such a bastard.
I did let him go. I mean, I don’t love him. That I’m certain of, but do I give him attention he doesn’t deserve? If so, that’s not
fair to Griffin, and I owe him an apology.
***
We arrive at The William Vale hotel in Brooklyn without any issues, but since our argument, Griffin’s been strictly my bodyguard.
Men from our security team are waiting at the penthouse to see that my bags and I make it safely inside, so I leave Griffin alone with them and head to the master bedroom.
To avoid the media, we left Los Angeles late last night, and I’m exhausted. I have to attend a ladies’ brunch at noon, which my sister’s friends planned, and then the rehearsal dinner is at six.
Hearing someone, I turn and find Griffin leaning against the doorframe.
“You should get some sleep.”
“You’re not staying in here with me?”
“No, I’m sleeping in the other bedroom.”
“I’m sorry for what happened on the jet.”
“I believe you, but it doesn’t change how you make time for a man who treated you like shit. He doesn’t deserve to be near the air you breathe. You need time to think about that, and I need time to think about what I’ll do if you can’t cut the cord.”
“Griffin, I don’t love him.”
“I’ll be in the other room if you need me, and there are guards right outside the door.”
“I need you now.”
“Ava, don’t.” He disappears, and I plop down on my bed. That wasn’t an angry or frustrated Griffin. He wasn’t being stubborn or losing his temper. He only appeared hurt, and it’s not Mickey’s fault. It’s all mine, and I have to fix it.
Griffin
“Griffin, wake up,” Ava says. I open my eyes, and she gives me a faint smile … a hesitant smile. She looks down at the room-service tray she’s holding. “I ordered breakfast for you. There’s even bacon. Can we talk?”
I palm my eyes before I glance at the clock.
“It’s been six hours.” She lifts the lid off the plate, and the scent of food fills the room. “You’re an impatient woman who’s manipulating me with bacon.”
“No, it’s my olive branch, but I didn’t figure you wanted olives for breakfast.”
Sitting up, I take the tray from her hands and set it on the bed. I admire her as she nervously bites the corner of her lip and tucks away a strand of her messy waves.
