by Stacey Lynn
***
I pulled up to Paige’s house and parked my truck in the street, hopping out before I’d barely had time to shut off the engine.
Jaxon had followed me and I waited while he stopped behind me and climbed out of his black Ford Explorer. He scanned the street, nothing casual in either his appearance or his intensity. He was on the job, taking it as a personal favor to me.
I’d owe him an arm and a leg but money didn’t matter when it came to protecting Paige’s safety.
After our meeting, we’d headed over to the police department where he’d gotten permission to photograph the letters already put into evidence. It was a pain, but Jaxon usually got what he wanted.
“You talk to Paige?” he asked, meeting me in the driveway.
“No. Didn’t want to freak her out on the phone.”
“Good idea. She won’t be freaked out at all when she sees me with you.” At a few inches shorter than me, Jaxon had buzzed black hair. It matched his black pants and black shirt perfectly. Not to mention all the treacherous looking ink covering both of his arms. Completing his badass look were a pair of black sunglasses and black combat boots.
He moved like a warrior and even though he might have been a bit smaller than me, no way would I ever fuck with the guy.
He could kill me in less than ten seconds, of that I had no doubt.
I jumped up the steps to the porch and knocked on the door. Melanie answered almost immediately.
“Hey, Beaux.” She grinned at me and then caught sight of Jaxon. “Uh. What’s going on?”
“Need to talk to Paige. Is Mike here yet?”
“Yeah.” Her brow furrowed but she stepped back. “And he’s being weird. Did you call him?”
“Yeah.” I might not have warned Paige, but I did call Mike. He’d want to know everything and I didn’t want to have this conversation more than once. Once was going to be hard enough.
All I’d wanted was to be there for Paige, date her, make her life easier, and being associated with me had made her life possibly, infinitely worse.
I loved the woman. Hadn’t told her yet because we had time and we were still new, but there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. The fact she was going to be pissed as hell made me feel like shit.
She had enough on her plate without worrying about some psycho following her around, threatening to harm her.
“Hey, you,” Paige said, walking out of the kitchen. It smelled like Italian food, rich with garlic and spices. She was wiping her hands on a towel as she greeted me, rolling to her toes to kiss my cheek. “What are you doing here?”
Like Melanie had done, Paige took in Jaxon behind me and her smile disappeared.
“What’s going on?”
“Let’s get to the living room. Is your dad awake?”
“Yeah, he’s watching ESPN. Everything okay?”
I placed my hand on her lower back and murmured, “No. Let’s sit.”
She walked woodenly in front of me, glancing back at me, mostly at Jaxon behind me. A tremble ran down her spine.
Fuck. Fuck! I’d brought this to her. I’d never felt like a bigger pile of crap.
“Okay,” she said, once she and Melanie were sitting down. Instinctively, they joined hands. Jaxon and I stood. Mike was at the fireplace, elbow on the mantle, showing none of his usually carefree demeanor. His eyes were narrowed and he didn’t remove his gaze from Jaxon. “Tell me what this is about.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
PAIGE
The temperature in the house dropped twenty degrees as I sat on the couch. I was telling myself not to freak out but it was pointless.
I was totally wigging out. The guy covered in tattoos and black standing next to Beaux looked menacing, like he could kill a guy in five seconds. Snap their neck before they saw it coming.
“This is Jaxon Hayes,” Beaux said, pointing his thumb at the guy. “He’s head of a security firm in Raleigh.”
“Security?” Dad re-adjusted himself in his recliner and his eyes went alert. “What happened?”
“Nothing yet,” Jaxon said. “And we’re going to keep it that way.”
“Jaxon, man,” Beaux said, but Dad cut him off.
“No. No pussy footing around with this. You got something to say, spit it out.”
I’d thought we were past the time frame when I had to worry about Dad aiming a gun at Beaux.
I might have been wrong.
“Go ahead,” Jaxon said.
Damn. Beaux’s look went forlorn and he flinched. He rubbed his chest like he was in pain and didn’t look at me. Like he couldn’t. His guilt was heavy and all of it sent a sinking weight to my stomach.
“I found out this morning that apparently, I have a stalker. A recent development.”
“A what?” I jumped to my feet and rushed him. “Oh my God.” My hands landed on his chest and he flinched again.
“Yeah.” He gripped my forearms and pushed me back. He pushed me away. The heck? “But it’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” He looked at Dad. Then he explained.
And every single word he spoke shot that terror through me, chilling me straight to the bones.
Behind me, Mike shouted and paced back in forth in front of the fireplace.
Dad’s face turned to stone.
Melanie had come and stood next to me, holding my hand, but I barely felt it.
The longer he talked, explaining the notes and photos, Dad and Mike cussed more and more, in volumes and in phrases I’d never heard my dad say around me.
When Beaux mentioned the police being involved, Melanie gasped.
I’d turned mute. I couldn’t say or do a damn thing except absorb everything Beaux was explaining. I also knew by his flat expression and cold tone he was hiding more.
“So why are you here?” Dad said, looking at Jaxon, and interrupting Beaux for at least the tenth time with questions. Who could blame the guy for being worried and pissed the hell off?
“Beaux hired me. I’m Paige’s new security guard.”
“You don’t go anywhere without him,” Beaux said, his tone abrupt.
“What?”
“Miss Halloway,” Jaxon said, his voice was firm. Warm, comforting, with a bite of viciousness. “I promise you, I’m the best there is. While the police do their job, mine is to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” My head whipped to Beaux. “You think I need protection?”
Had I not been listening? I might have blocked it all out. This wasn’t happening. Yesterday I was just a girl dating a guy who played football.
Today I had some crazed fan taking photos of me and sending threatening letters.
Of course I needed protecting. Or a safe house. Or a new name. A new life.
Maybe someone to slap some sense into me.
“I’m not about to risk anything happening to you, the fact she’s followed you to work, or at least knows where you work, scares the shit out of me. I’m not going to lie, Paige. And there’s no way in hell I’m playing this off. Not with you.” Beaux’s voice sounded broken, harsh and thick, filled with shards of glass. The effort it was taking him to explain all of this, was obvious.
I still couldn’t move toward him. I couldn’t comfort him. His eyes went glacial blue and he scanned the room. “Not with any of you. You’re in this mess because of me and I will take care of it. Starting with a security system. Jaxon will have his team here first thing tomorrow to install it.
“Security,” I murmured. “Security and safety and stalkers.” Oh, my. I was losing my mind.
I’d been photographed in the last month. I’d noticed them. Traffic had picked up at the garage. All of it was an annoyance but it hadn’t terrified me. This went beyond terrifying and I fell back a step, away from Beaux.
He reached for me but I held up my hands. “No. No, I just, I need a minute.”
“Paige,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”
“I kno
w.” He was. I knew it. I could feel it rolling off him along with his fury.
It didn’t matter. I loved him. Had fallen in love with him. But I didn’t realize in doing so, from what they were saying, my life could be at stake.
All I knew was I needed space. A place to think and organize my thoughts, lay everything out that he’d just told me, what it meant for me in the upcoming days or weeks.
Was Beaux worth it?
Of course he was. A thousand times yes.
Was I strong enough to handle it?
I had no answer for that one.
“Excuse me,” I looked at my dad. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. We just want you safe.” He sounded as torn apart as I felt, as Beaux looked, as equally torn up as Mike was clearly fuming pissed.
I squeezed his hand and let him go. “I need some time alone,” I said to Beaux. “To think.”
“To think?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my fear clogging my throat and making the words bounce.
***
I went to my room, pulled a pillow to my chest, curled up against my headboard and stared out my window.
Then I jumped off the bed, looked outside, and slammed the blinds shut.
Was she out there? Watching us now? Was she hiding in the trees? Behind my neighbor’s fence? Was she using the garage? Did she know I worked at Ride’Em Rough? Was she doing anything other than turning my life and my safety upside down?
I didn’t want to think about her, what she was doing, but until she was caught or stopped, it would be the only thing I did.
Knowing someone was threatening your life and following you didn’t exactly scream comfort.
A knock tapped on my bedroom door and I ignored it. It wasn’t locked, but I was still too stunned to speak or move.
It didn’t matter how many times I rearranged what Beaux and Jaxon had said downstairs.
I didn’t know how long I’d been in my room when the knock happened again.
I stared at the closed blinds.
The door creaked open and it was Melanie’s sweet and concerned voice I heard. “I think you need a drink.”
She only had her head and arms sticking in the doorway, but she was also holding two bottles in one, glasses in the other. A white wine and tequila.
We didn’t have tequila in the house. She must have gone and got some.
I needed to chill out and calm down, but I didn’t need to be puking in the toilet. “Wine, please.”
She grinned, a sad and lopsided and understanding one, but she still skipped into my room, closing the door behind her.
“She could be out there,” I whispered, going back to watching my closed window blinds.
Melanie poured the drinks and climbed on the bed next to me, handing me one.
“She won’t hurt you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Pshh.” She sipped her wine and bumped her shoulder into mine. “Yeah, I can. Did you even look at Rambo Sexy Pants down there? No way is some two-bit crazed chick getting past him.”
Leave it to Melanie to lighten the mood. “Rambo Sexy Pants?”
“Yeah. Give the guy a mullet and a bandana and he’s totally Sylvester Stallone circa early eighties.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s because you don’t have a brother. Mine loves all those eighties, bad-ass guy movies. Anyway, Rambo. Green Beret. Vicious killer and sexy as hell. That’s the dude downstairs.”
“Hmmm.” I sipped my wine. I couldn’t lie and say Jaxon wasn’t sexy. He just scared the crap out of me more. “Rambo Scary Pants.”
She snorted. “Rambo I-wanna-get-in-his pants.”
I laughed. “You’re a nut.” Our giggles passed and we drank our wine. Melanie left me to my quiet, tormented thoughts and when my glass was empty, she refilled it. “I’m scared.”
“I don’t blame you. This is scary shit, but what are you thinking?”
“That I’m scared and it’s Beaux’s fault, and mine for dating him. And now I have to worry about my dad and Mike and the guys at the garage and wonder how insane or desperate this person is and is she following me all the time, or only at work, and does she know where I live? Has she followed me home? Does she know where Beaux is? What will she do to keep me out of his—”
A hand slammed over my mouth and silenced me. “Woah, woman. And you called me a nut?”
I flashed her wide eyes and shrugged. The fact I was a neurotic nutcase wasn’t news to anyone.
“Biggest fear,” Melanie said and with her hand holding her wine glass she held up a finger. “And you only get one.”
Biggest? Most serious? There was only one.
I pulled her hand off my mouth. “Losing Beaux.”
“And his greatest fear is losing you. So I’m not sure why you’re up here hiding when you could be with him figuring out the best way to make sure neither of those two things happen.”
She had a point.
I was a runner by nature. I didn’t handle stress well, didn’t like changes to routine.
The fact I had a nurse-turned-friend practically living with me now and was soon to have my life thrown into a crazy mess was enough to make me need some Xanax.
“I see your point,” I admitted, and took a drink. It was warming, but still sweet. I would have drunk the tequila she brought at this point. I didn’t care what alcohol burned my throat, I just needed it do its job and mellow me out. “Is he here?”
“No. He said he wanted to meet another dude of Jaxon’s at the garage to go over security there. I’ll tell you what though, your sexy guy is taking this incredibly seriously. He said he’ll be back soon and you’re not supposed to leave.”
“Beaux said I can’t leave?”
“Not without Rambo.”
“Jaxon.”
“Potato, po-tah-to.”
We dissolved into a fit of giggles, and I hugged her. I needed this. Needed someone who could make me laugh when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and ignore life around me.
But I had good friends.
Protectors.
Family.
I had Beaux.
And while we hadn’t said that we loved each other, I knew I had Beaux’s heart like he had mine. And I knew with how protective he was on a normal day, Melanie was right.
He’d do whatever he could; throw any cost and time and resources into keeping me safe.
And for the first time, without arguing about his help first, I decided to let him.
I needed him to do that for me, to be the guy who would do that for me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BEAUX
I walked back into Paige’s house expecting the eerie silence it’d been filled with when I left earlier.
Instead, laughter came from the dining room along with a manic shout of, “Bullshit!” A loud round of choruses echoed with Mike’s voice the loudest at, “Screw you, Paige!”
The hell?
I hurried around the corner and came to an abrupt stop. At the dining table sat Mike, Melanie, Sam, Paige, and Jaxon. All of them with their hands full of cards, Mike pouting while he scooped up the massive pile in the middle.
“What’s going on?” I asked, walking toward Paige like she was a wounded animal. When I left, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with me. Now her eyes were a bit glassy, her smile lazy.
“I’m drunk,” she drawled in her sweet Southern voice. “And we’re playing bullshit.”
“Bullshit?”
She wagged her finger at Jaxon. “It was his idea.”
He glared at me. His sunglasses were gone, but his eyes were just as black as them. His look told me this game was unequivocally, one hundred percent, not his idea.
Jaxon looked back at his cards and I moved to Paige’s back. “It was Jaxon’s idea?”
“No, that’s bullshit.” She giggled. Melanie joined her. “It was Melanie’s idea and he’s pl
aying against his will because what else is he supposed to do?”
“Make sure you’re safe?” I asked, hating I had to say it. My glare matched Jaxon’s and he shook his head.
“I’m safe,” she said, looking up at me. Her eyes were droopy, barely open and she swayed toward me. “I have you.”
A bullet to the chest couldn’t have caused a more heated ache in my chest. Except this was the best kind of pain.
She trusted me. She wasn’t pushing me away and she wasn’t screaming at me. Perhaps that would happen after she sobered up. I squatted down at her side so we were at eye level. “Yeah?”
She leaned into me, head bumping into my shoulder and stayed there. “Yeah.”
“How drunk are you?”
She hiccupped. Trashed, obviously. Her brows furrowed and lips puckered while she took her time thinking. “My head is going to hurt in the morning but I won’t be puking.” She reached for a beer and I stopped her.
“How about we stay that way?”
She hiccupped again.
Melanie’s giggles grew louder.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Paige said, her words stretching out over a yawn and she covered her mouth. “It just felt so good earlier, I couldn’t stop.”
If it’d been off-season, I probably would have done the same.
“Okay then, drunk girl.” I pushed her chair back and pulled her cards from her hand. “How about we get upstairs. I’ve got more things to talk to you about.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No more talking. I’ve had enough talky-talk today and I’m done talking.”
“Then you can listen.”
“I don’t like doing that either today.”
I glanced at Sam for support. There was more shit to figure out and there wasn’t a lot of time. There was no damn way she was going to be working at the restaurant with the crowds it got until I knew she was safe. I hated to spoil it but if she were drunk when I told her I just paid her dad’s hospital expenses so she didn’t have to go back to waitressing, she’d take it better than sober.
