Protecting My Forever (Blackthorne Security Book 1)

by Nicole Vidal

  “Thanks. Please have Blaine send me whatever information I need.”

  Jake nods. “Let me know if you need backup or a few days to rest. I’ll meet you.”

  “Thanks.” I leave his office, drive home, and pack for my trip. Based on her tour cities, I need clothes for a range of temperatures. I hustle out to the Uber and prepare for a few months away from home with a potentially difficult client.

  Chapter Three

  Calliope

  It’s been eighteen hours. I know because I’ve been watching the clock. I shouldn’t be angry; this is my own doing. I fired Mickey. He was incompetent, and being stuck here is the aftermath. Keeping myself on schedule is key for these tour dates. My next stop is Dallas, where I have three shows.

  After an hour of yoga and a shower, I sit on the floor surrounded by Madeleine’s proposals. I’ve already dismissed the book deal. Disclosing my family history is not something I ever want to do, regardless of the high six-figure advance. The last thing I need is more money. Money simply amplifies problems, despite the popular opinion that it makes life easier.

  I’m slightly intrigued by the movie idea. Similar to the book though, I don’t want to share my personal life at all. There’s a reason that I have no personal social media footprint. I set the movie proposal aside and review the studio album option.

  I plan to work on another album, but I need to write some songs first. Until now, most of my songs have been written by other people who want to get on the Carys train. My music, music that I write, has a very different tone and isn’t sellable, at least that’s what Madeleine claims. I’m sure she means it isn’t marketable as Carys. What if Callie were to sing it instead, I wonder. The fourth option is performing at the Twentieth Anniversary of the September 11th Attack Memorial. As I open the file, my chest starts to hurt. I immediately close it.

  A knock on my door pulls me out of my head. I didn’t order any food.

  “Who is it?”

  “I’m here from Blackthorne.”

  How can I trust this guy? “Who called to request your presence?”

  “Your manager, Bruce Weston.”

  “Who did he speak with?”

  “My partner, Jacob Blackthorne.”

  If he’s irritated with all my questions, he isn’t showing it. “What is your name?”

  “Connor.”

  “Do you have identification?”

  He holds his Maryland license to the peephole. Satisfied he is who he claims to be, I unlock the numerous locks on the door. When I open the door, I’m confronted with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I have had personal security for a long time; they’re all built and in fantastic shape. Connor is no exception, with his broad shoulders and arms corded with muscle. Yet that isn’t what captures my attention. It’s his steely blue eyes, which tell me there’s more to this man than his profession. “Please come in.”

  “Thank you.” He sets his bag near the door and turns to face me. The room instantly heats up. He’s breathtaking, and he’s merely standing here.

  I extend my hand to him. As my hand slides into his large one, my world stops spinning. The sparks that race up my arm are undeniable. My breath catches before I’m able to apologize. “I’m sorry for all the questions.”

  “Actually, I was going to compliment your diligence.”

  I nod. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I wasn’t expecting you until this evening at the earliest.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure being trapped in this suite isn’t high on your priority list.”

  “No, but I fired Mickey, so it comes with that decision. Would you like to have a seat?”

  He nods and moves to the chair in the sitting area, his eyes moving around the room while he waits for me to take a seat. “I would like to go over your security and how it was handled before, but first why are you on your fourth security firm?”

  “Is that your polite way of asking if I’m a bitch?”

  “No, not at all. Other than the basic information I received from Mr. Blackthorne, I prefer to get as much intel from my clients as possible.”

  Note to self, don’t play poker with Connor. His facial expressions give nothing away, at least they haven’t yet. “I understand. Bruce fired my first security team when he found the two people assigned to my detail drinking off stage during one of my performances. The second firm quit. I don’t think they were truly equipped to handle what a tour like this entails, that someone would be with me during all my awake hours.”

  He shifts in his seat when I mention that I’m alone at night.

  “I fired Mickey because last night during the show, he should have been waiting off stage to escort me to the car and back here. When the second curtain call ended, he was nowhere to be found. I later correctly accused him of being otherwise engaged with one of my backup dancers. I let her go too.”

  He nods. “Would you prefer to share what you need or hear what my plan is?”

  “Honestly, it would be easier if you tell me what you expect. If I need more or less, we can discuss it.”

  “Makes sense. What do you want me to call you?”

  His deep voice makes my body pay attention. It’s very good and very bad at the same time. Out of all my bodyguards, he is the only one I’ve been attracted too. Insanely attracted too. “Did Bruce discuss my nondisclosure agreement with Mr. Blackthorne?”

  “Yes, I signed it. It’s standard for most of our clients.”

  No one has ever asked me how I want to be addressed before. Maybe Blackthorne Security is different. Maybe he’s different. I exhale slowly.

  “This is me, Calliope Sutton. The public doesn’t see me like this. If I leave this room, I will look and act like Carys. Truthfully, she’s a part I play. When we’re out, please call me Carys. Here, my name is fine or Callie.”

  “That works, Calliope.”

  Holy hell! No one calls me by my full name anymore. It sounds sinful falling from his sexy mouth.

  Connor continues, “I’ll be with you everywhere you go. It appears from the desolate appearance outside your door, you rent the entire floor. It isn’t necessary. If a two-room suite isn’t available, the couch will be fine for me. If for some reason I feel more security is necessary, I’ll bring in someone from Blackthorne. Do you have a personal cell phone or email address?”

  “Yes to both. I don’t use the phone unless I need to talk to Bruce, Madeleine, or there’s an emergency.”

  “Good, then you won’t mind parting with it. If there’s an emergency, I’ll handle it.”

  I stand and rifle through my already packed carry-on bag and hand him the phone.

  “Thank you. What’s the number and who has it?”

  I rattle off the number and answer, “Bruce Weston, Madeleine Wilton, and probably my ex.”

  “Which ex?”

  There is absolutely no judgement in his voice. It’s heartening. “Brad. My only ex, really. We were together almost a year before my second contract and for one year after, until I realized I was supporting him travelling around the world.”

  He nods. “What about the email address? How secure is it?”

  “All my Carys correspondence and social media is handled by my publicist, Pamela Gaines. I have two email addresses. One is for my corporation, the other is personal, but I use it rarely.”

  “Could you write them down for me when we’re done? I want our team to check them out.”

  “Sure.”

  “I only have a loose itinerary. I assume you were already supposed to leave for Dallas.”

  “Yes, I was supposed to leave this morning. I’ll reach out to Bruce when we’re done talking, and he’ll arrange our flight.”

  “Do you have any questions for me?”

  I’m saved by his ringing phone. I have so many questions for him, none of which are appropriate for his current role in my life.

  “Excuse me.” He rises from the couch and walks toward the window.

  If I thought he was hot
from the front, his sculpted back and ass are something to write home about too.

  Chapter Four

  Connor

  “Yeah, Jake.”

  “I received a cache of information from Blaine. You should review it immediately.”

  I don’t like the concern in his voice. “I will. We’re working out the details now. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

  “Please keep me in the loop when you move to a new city.”

  You would think his request would make me bristle. It doesn’t. He’s making sure he has the information to send whatever or whomever I need if necessary. “No problem. We should be leaving for Dallas either tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks, C.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No, truly. I know this type of assignment isn’t what you want.”

  I glance over at my client and recall the heat from shaking her hand and the stark contrast between Calliope and Carys. “I understand. It’s fine, Jake.” If he has seen a picture of her, the real her, her doesn’t let on. She’s tiny, maybe five feet four inches tall. Her hand in mine felt small and delicate, but like it belonged there. Her blonde mane is long and wavy. She’s fit but isn’t too thin despite industry standards. Her eyes are a gorgeous shade of emerald. The look behind them though screams pain. Her life hasn’t been easy and, I’m confident without reading anything Blaine sent, tragic in some way too. Aside from the pain I see behind her eyes, she’s stunning. Something deep inside tells me she’s a powerhouse but doesn’t know it.

  I end the call and turn back to her. “Sorry about that. Jake sent over the rest of your file.”

  “Jake?” Her voice raises in question.

  “Mr. Blackthorne. We’ve been friends since birth.”

  She nods.

  “Why don’t you tell me the true reason I’m here?”

  Her entire body tenses. Even though I probably shouldn’t, I move closer to her. I take her hands in mine and force her to look at me. The same heat courses up my arms. She’s afraid of someone or something.

  “Would you prefer that I read about it?”

  Her eyes snap closed, and she exhales sharply. “No, but I don’t like talking about it. Since the beginning of my career, there have always been threats. I gather its part of the business. Bruce keeps a file of the threats and the clingers.”

  I raise an eyebrow. Her body relaxes a sliver.

  “Bruce classifies the threats based on the level of potential violence. Level four fans send letters spouting feelings of undying love and affection. Completely harmless. Level three fans follow me on tour, literally travel from city to city. I honestly don’t know how some of them afford it. Level two fans not only travel but finagle backstage passes or invites to meet and greets. The worst is level one. These fans send the letters, including threats of harm, if I don’t talk to them or take a photo with them, follow me across the country, and some have even taken to sending me gifts ranging from roses to candy or even creepy memory boxes containing photos of me and said fan. As such, I don’t pose for very many photos anymore. Generally, cameras aren’t allowed at backstage events. That’s harder to enforce because every phone has one now.”

  She isn’t lying, but she’s omitting something, nonetheless. “Does Bruce keep a list of the level one and two fans?”

  “Yes, I already asked him to have a copy for you when we get to Dallas.”

  “Thank you. Have there been any specific instances that caused Bruce to hire a bodyguard?”

  “At the beginning, I didn’t have security at all. For my second tour, Bruce increased security at the venues, and he escorted me to and from the arena. He hired a bodyguard for my third tour, and I’ve had personal security ever since. To answer your question on my last tour, there was a security breach after I was in my room for the night. Two level one threats successfully located my room number, pretended to be room service, and gained access to my room. One restrained me while the other searched my room for personal items. I screamed loudly enough for Shelley, my makeup artist to hear me. She called my security detail from her room next door and Bruce before investigating further. They ran off before my security team arrived. However, the cameras in the hallways and lobby were essential in identifying them. They were arrested and charged.” Her posture more rigid than it was only a few minutes ago.

  “Anything else?” I ask hoping there isn’t. Unfortunately, I’m wrong.

  She takes a deep breath before adding, “The only other incident was a package left for me at the front desk in Las Vegas. It contained black roses and images of me at various events with my face cut out. I actually opened it myself. The police investigated but weren’t successful in finding the sender.”

  I nod and pause to see if there’s anything else she plans to add. When she doesn’t continue, I ask, “Do you have any self-defense training?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “Not necessarily. It’s helpful for you to know you can protect yourself.”

  “So you won’t need to be here? Somewhere you would rather be, Connor?” She tries to pull her hands away, but my grip tightens around them instantly.

  “No, not at all. Two of the strongest women I know are more than capable of protecting themselves.”

  “Who?”

  I don’t generally share anything personal, but she seems to need connection. “Norah and Maia. Norah is Jake’s wife. She successfully defended herself against an attacker at her store. Maia is one of my teammates. She’s about your size, but anyone who assumes she’s a pushover will be sorely mistaken.”

  “I’m sorry. It seems everyone Bruce hires fails me.”

  “I’m not that guy. I’ll teach you some basics if you want.”

  “Okay.” The word is barely audible.

  “Anything else you want to share?”

  The look on her face tells me she isn’t comfortable enough with me yet to share more details—not completely unexpected as we met less than an hour ago.

  “No.”

  “In order for this to work, I need you to be honest with me and tell me what you need. If you want fresh air, tell me. I’ll find a safe spot. If you want to go shopping or have dinner with your family, I’ll coordinate it.” I don’t like how she tensed again when I said family. My family—blood, Blackthorne, and green are everything to me. “No sneaking off. I’m here for your safety, not to keep you trapped in a hotel.”

  “Okay. I’m going to call Bruce. He should be able to arrange a plane in the next few hours.” She slides her hands from mine.

  If I’m being honest, I miss her soft skin against mine the moment she moves away. “No problem. I’m not going anywhere.” I grin at her.

  She shakes her head and walks away. A minute later, she returns. “Can I have my phone?”

  I rise from my seat on the couch, withdraw it from my pocket, and hand it to her. The slight contact of her fingers against mine and the almost instant loss leaves me bereft. I’ve never been attracted to anyone beautiful women in the world. This assignment is going to be interesting.

  A few hours later, Carys appears before me. She’s significantly taller, and her hair is purple. She’s dressed in a skintight, black vinyl minidress. She’s attractive in casual clothes. This costume does nothing to hide the dips and curves of her hot-as-hell body.

  “Where is your luggage?”

  She has a small tote with her, which she lifts.

  I extend my hand to her and take it, adding it with mine. We walk to the elevator and ride straight to the parking garage. Continually, I scan our surroundings. I set our bags in the waiting town car and lead her to my rental. The town car as put in place by her former team, and I plan to use it as a decoy to gauge how exposed she is.

  “Back or front?” I ask.

  “Front, if that’s okay with you.”

  I appreciate her acquiescence. It’s a step in the right direction. I open her door and wait until she’s buckled. I pull out of the garage direc
tly behind the town car. The ride to the private airport is uneventful, exactly how I like them. I won’t let my guard down until she’s safely tucked into her bed for the night and even then, it’s only enough for me to get some sleep too.

  Thankfully, the flight to Dallas and transfer to the hotel are also smooth. Once we’re safely in her room, I set her bag on the bed. “What time do you need to be at the venue in the morning?”

  She doesn’t answer me right away. She’s standing near the window. Her back is to me, her left hand gripping the crown of the purple wig.

  “Calliope?”

  She turns toward me. “Sorry, I’m used to being alone at this point. What did you ask?”

  “What time do you need to leave in the morning.”

  Her stance softens a bit, the transformation back to Calliope almost complete.

  “I’ll leave here at seven. If I’m lucky and the rehearsal goes well, we’ll be back here by dinner. The information from Bruce is on the sideboard. I’ll arrange for a two-bedroom suite in Los Angeles. I’m going to turn in.”

  “Thank you. Good night, Calliope.”

  “Good night, Connor.”

  I close the door, step back into the living room, and replace my jeans with shorts. After a quick review of the list Bruce provided, I email the list and photos of the level one and two names to Blaine for more information.

  I settle into the chair and read the information Blaine provided. In an effort to adhere to her request, I start with the most recent threats and then I’ll work my way backward to the beginning of the tour. Over an hour later, I check on Calliope who is tucked into bed, sound asleep. I sprawl out on the couch as best I can and attempt to get some sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Calliope

  I close the door and slither out of the minidress. I truly wish my image wasn’t pop princess but more classic. I sigh. That would require gaining a whole new set of fans and trusting my diehards won’t run the other way. I’ve been in this business for almost a decade. I’m getting too old for this. Yes, at twenty-seven I feel too old to don a purple wig to be seen in public. The issue with that is I would need to be honest about my past and how I got where I am today. The reason I donned a wig in the first place was a personal and business decision. It was a long struggle.