by Andrea Joan
The driver’s side window rolls down and a hand sneaks out, punching a number into the code box, making me feel a little more comfortable knowing that her house is at least protected by a locked, coded gate. Hopefully she has a good security system set up at the actual house. If not, I’ll make sure to take care of it. The gate begins to open slowly as the car moves up the driveway. The partition comes down and the driver begins to speak.
“Ms. Barrett, do you need my assis—” The driver stops speaking as he glances in the rearview mirror and spots Skylar sleeping. I put my finger to my lips, signaling him to be quiet, not ready to wake her quite yet.
Not more than ten seconds later the car comes to a stop, and all too fucking soon for my liking we have arrived and it’s time to wake her.
“Sky,” I whisper, brushing the hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. No movement, nothing. She’s dead to the world. “Skylar, baby, you need to wake up. I think you’re home.”
I’ve already called her baby twice, so why stop now?
Sky moves leisurely, stretching her body across my legs, reaching her hand up to my face, fingers playing against my skin, refusing to open her eyes.
“Ugh…I don’t wanna,” she mumbles, her fingers playing blindly across my eyes and down to my lips.
Fucking adorable. “You have to. Back to the real world, sweetheart.” I nip at one of her delicate fingers, holding it in my mouth for just a second, long enough for my tongue to sneak a taste of her skin. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Fine,” she sighs dramatically as she sits up and straightens her tank top, patting down her hair and checking her reflection in the tinted window. I wish I could tell her how fucking beautiful she is and that a reflective reassurance isn’t necessary, but I know that would be too much.
The driver opens her door and extends his hand, helping her out of the car. I’m right behind her as she exits, and I take her uninjured hand from the driver’s so I can hold it in mine. I can’t stop touching her. This makes me seem like a fucking psycho, I’m sure, but I don’t give a shit.
The times I remember most vividly with Ali are not the ones where I cherished her. Where I hugged her, or held hands or made love to her for hours. Not the times we spent curled up in that damn hammock, or how she would grab my index finger whenever she got nervous. Nope. My fucked up masochistic psyche likes to replay all the times where she stood next to me and I didn’t touch her or hold her in some way. The nights we fell asleep wrapped in one another but woke up having drifted apart. Following her death I even became obsessed with all the lost time, and because of my photographic fucking torture device of a memory, I’ve actually been able to replay and count those lost seconds; adding them up over and over again, tormenting myself.
“Ms. Barrett, a pleasure as always.” The driver gives her a nod as he moves to open the door.
“Thanks, Barry. I’ll call when I need you next. Say hi to your wife for me.”
“Will do Ms. Barrett.” He gives her a small wave before he gets in the car. I just stand taking in Sky’s house because what I see surprises me.
It’s not huge or garish like one might expect from a wealthy actress, but understated and ethereal. Like a house straight out of a fairytale. The villa styled home is tucked away from the main road; bushes and ivy grow in front of a brick wall that surrounds the perimeter of the property giving her the privacy she craves. More ivy strategically creeps over the stucco walls of the front of the home. The house seems small from the front, just a double French door entry and a two-car garage. But something tells me I’m underestimating its size.
“This is a pretty incredible house, Sky,” I say, giving her hand a light squeeze.
“Thank you. It’s kind of my sanctuary. I rarely leave it when I’m not working,” she says quietly, looking up at me, a slight blush coming over her face as if she’s embarrassed, or uncertain, I’m not really sure. But one thing I’ve discovered about Skylar is her inability to accept compliments. She seems as uncomfortable with them as she does being touched. And I really can’t fucking fathom why that is. I would think a woman like Skylar would be oozing confidence and assurance, but sometimes she seems a little broken. The sick part is, I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so drawn to her.
“So you wanna show me the rest of this dump or what, sweetheart?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. She just rolls her eyes at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“You have such a sweet way with words, Liam.” Her laugh trails behind her as she leads me to the front doors, opening them without a key and walking right the fuck in.
I quickly step in front of her and place my hand on her chest to stop her. “What the hell, Sky? Don’t you keep your doors locked? Do you have an alarm system? You can’t just leave your house unlocked like this.” Even in my small-ass town we lock our doors.
Her eyes open wide and she lets out a sarcastic laugh, or scoff, some kind of noise that tells me she thinks I’m acting ridiculous.
“Come on, Liam, how stupid do you think I am? I never leave my doors unlocked when no one’s here, and I have a state-of-the-art security system, thank you very much. Winter is here, she’s been housesitting.”
“Who?”
Before she even opens her mouth to answer, a high-pitched screech comes from behind me. I turn around and see neon red hair barreling down the solarium hallway.
“OH MY GOD, YOU’RE BAAACK! I missed you so much, Skylar!” I figure this must be Winter as she practically knocks me out of the way and engulfs Skylar in a giant hug.
“I missed you too, Win!” Skylar says, a huge smile on her face but tensing against the hug. I can’t help but laugh while watching the girly scene unfold in front of me, subsequently catching Winter’s attention.
“My, my, Skylar. I see you brought me back a tall, dark, and sexy present from Orcas Island. I would have settled for a necklace or something, but this works too,” Winter says, looking me up and down shamelessly. I’m used to this kind of reaction from females. Fuck, I usually love it and start contemplating how many words I have to actually speak before I can have them on their knees with my dick in their mouths, but right now, with Skylar standing next to me, I feel awkward as fuck.
“Yeah, yeah, Winter, bring it down a few notches or you’re going to scare him off. Winter Davis, this is Liam O’ Connor, the new bodyguard I told you about. Liam, this is Winter Davis. Winter is my personal assistant and my other best friend.”
“The cuter best friend. Also, the completely straight best friend in case you were curious,” Winter says, winking in my direction and sticking her hand out for me to shake it. Clearly Winter is a flirt, and when I sneak a glance at Sky she just shrugs her shoulders and smiles as if this is typical behavior.
I grab her hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you, Winter, Sky’s completely straight friend.”
Winter’s appearance surprises me. Not that I’m opposed to her style: her bright red hair cascading down her back, her arms covered in sleeve tattoos, a bar piercing right through her left eyebrow. I’m just astonished that she’s Skylar’s friend. Innocent and angelic looking Skylar. Not just her friend, but her employee. Skylar Barrett continues to shock me.
“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Winter purrs seductively, still holding on to my hand.
“Jesus, Winter, knock it off,” Skylar warns. “You’ll have to forgive her. Winter has no filter and openly lusts after anything attractive with a penis and a pulse.”
“Really? That’s all it takes is a penis and a pulse to get your girl all worked up? Sky, baby, you’re killing my ego here,” I say, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to my side. I’m a fucking addict. I can’t go five minutes without contact from her.
“It’s true, Liam,” Winter says, but I don’t miss the brief second she eyes us speculatively, or rather me. “I have issues, but unfortunately they don’t have support groups for people with my p
articular problems, which consist of having an overactive mouth that’s only rivaled by my equally overactive vagina. So we all just have to endure my outbursts. But you belong to Skylar, so I’ll maintain my distance,” Winter says, putting her fingers up in salute.
Skylar turns her head into my chest and groans. “Jesus, Winter. See, I told you,” Skylar says, looking up at me. “Liam is not mine. He works for me, okay? Just like you do, although maybe not for much longer.”
It’s cute how she keeps pretending this is just a working relationship. I’ll let it slide for now, but eventually that shit will get straightened the fuck out.
“So when do I get to see the rest of this house, ladies?” I clap my hands together in anticipation. So far I’ve only seen the cobblestone foyer, but if that’s any indication as to the rest of the house, I’m actually looking forward to this tour.
“Let’s go,” Winter commands, grabbing me by the arm and leading the way. I look back at Skylar who is rolling her eyes as she trails behind.
The whole showing takes about fifteen minutes, and I figure out pretty quickly why Skylar picked this house, and why she refers to it as her sanctuary. When traveling through it I almost forget I’m in Los Angeles. The house is three stories. There are three bedrooms in total—two are master suites located on the top floor. Skylar occupies one and the other is Noah’s. Each master suite has French doors that lead to a balcony. On the second floor there’s a living room, a dining room that has been converted into a full bar, and a striking kitchen stocked with all the latest appliances. The bottom floor is an odd combination of a well-stocked library, and across the hallway, I can already tell what will be my fucking favorite room: an in-home gym. The gym has everything: a treadmill, free weights, a rowing machine, stair climber, and even a heavy bag and speed bag hanging from the wall. The boxing equipment looks new and untouched. I can even smell the leather of the bags, and now I’m curious if she had all of this set up for my benefit.
It’s a beautiful house, no question, but there’s something so cold about it. There are no personal pictures on the walls, nothing that clues me in to who Skylar is or where she comes from. It’s almost like a museum and that is fucking depressing.
“And this is where you’ll be staying,” Skylar announces as she leads the way past the Grecian style pool to what appears to be a large pool house.
The pool house is actually a loft, which explains the outside cylindrical build. The bottom floor has a circular couch, matching the architecture of the actual house and a surprisingly large kitchen. Off to my right is a spiral staircase that leads to a top floor bedroom and bathroom. The pool house is bigger than my old apartment in Seattle. Now I’m wondering how much money this house is worth. I never really thought about what Sky makes, but I can tell this house is not cheap and I’m actually starting to feel a little out of my league with this girl. What can I offer someone like her anyway?
“I know it’s not home, but I hope you like it.” Skylar is staring up at me with an almost nervous look, and I get an unfamiliar feeling in my chest, equal parts warmth and panic. She’s pleading for my approval with those blue green eyes of hers, and I know I’m so fucking unworthy of her admiration, but I selfishly soak it up. I want to drown in it, submerge myself in her misdirected adoration because it makes me feel powerful again. Makes me feel necessary. Needed.
“It’s perfect,” I assure her, brushing my thumb down her cheek.
“Ahem,” Winter says, interrupting our moment. Fuck, I forgot she was even there. We both turn to look at Winter. “Well, I got ahold of Lawrence and all your luggage should be here within the hour,” Winter tells us.
“Thanks, Win.” Skylar shifts uncomfortably next to me.
“No prob, love. By the way, Skylar, I should warn you…” Winter glances my way for a brief moment, obviously debating if she should continue speaking in my presence.
“It’s okay, Winter. Liam’s cool, I trust him.”
Well, fuck me if that spoken realization doesn’t just puff my chest right up.
“Okay…well…Carl has been calling me non-stop this morning. He’s really pissed that you haven’t been responding to his calls or emails or carrier pigeons for all I know. I told him you should be home around ten so he could call you then, but he told me he was coming over instead. He said, and I quote, ‘She’s gonna see me whether she likes it or not. I’m tired of her immature avoidance bullshit.’”
“Shit,” Skylar says as she quickly makes her way around me and heads toward the main house.
“Hey, Sky, wait…who the fuck is Carl?” I practically yell at her, picking up my pace.
“That’s her manager slash father, or as I like to call him, The Devil,” Winter calls out, following both of us into the house. I barely hear what Winter is saying to me because my concentration is solely on Sky and figuring out why the fuck she seems so on edge all of a sudden. I follow her right through the back door into the kitchen. When I catch up to her I grab her elbow to stop her, turning her toward me.
“Skylar, stop. Do you not want him here?”
“When it comes to Carl I don’t really have a choice, Liam. Besides, I probably have been dodging his calls too much these last few days.”
“Damn, you guys are too fast for me,” Winter pants as she stumbles into the kitchen. “Listen he’ll probably be here any minute, Skylar. I should’ve told you when you first got here, but I was just so excited you were back and then with meeting Liam and showing him the house, I just got a little distracted.”
Why does everyone seem to be at DEFCON fucking five right now? Unease awakens in my gut and all my senses start lighting up under the weight of fear that’s being released into the room, both by Sky and Winter.
Sky laughs uncomfortably in an unsuccessful attempt to hide it, burying it in forced humor as a distraction. Won’t work with me though. Because once someone experiences true fear, that feeling attaches to every fiber of their being and imprints so it is never forgotten. I can smell it, taste it, absorb the sensation emanating from the people around me. So I caught on pretty fucking quick to the fact that she’s scared of her own father.
“It’s okay, Win. I should have called him back and not put this on your plate.”
“What’s going on here, Sky?” I ask. “Is there something I need to know about Carl?”
“No…nothing…it’s just…” Right on cue, there’s a harsh knock on the door and Winter runs to answer it.
I touch her chin and force her gaze to mine, searching for some sort of wordless explanation. Sky has the most expressive eyes, and she can’t hide anything in them. I fucking know something is off here.
“Where is she, Winter? Is she back yet? I am so goddamn sick of her shit!” A deep voice curses through the house as heavy steps barrel toward the kitchen. Skylar gently pushes me away, putting distance between the two of us as she turns around.
My heart picks up speed.
My body tenses, readying itself for whatever threat is about to make its way to her.
I don’t give a fuck if it’s her father. I should but I don’t. Rage knows no boundaries. It is a stranger to morality and decorum. Basically, I have no problem fucking him up.
I place my hand on the small of her back in an attempt to assure her that I am here for her and because her skin against mine always seems to calm me.
“There you are! What the fuck, Skylar! You need to learn to answer your goddamn phone. You are being a disrespectful little—” Carl stops the minute he spots me glaring at him from behind her. “Who the hell is this?”
My hand turns into a fist behind Skylar as I grab the back of her shirt, pulling her closer to me. I can see the resemblance between them. He has the same brow and lips, even the same hairline, though he’s about five inches taller. But the way he speaks to her is disgusting; no father should speak to his daughter this way. In a million years I could never imagine my dad cursing at me or Shayla like this, no matter how much we may have pushed his buttons
.
“Carl, this is Liam. Liam, this is Carl. This is Jeff Roberts’ replacement, Carl,” Skylar says cautiously. Jeff Roberts must have been her previous bodyguard. I don’t lift my hand to shake Carl’s, nor does he lift his; this is clearly a standoff wherein we are both establishing our dominance in Skylar’s life.
“Jesus, Skylar, please tell me you’re joking! I know you didn’t hire someone without my consent, behind my back!” he spits angrily.
“It wasn’t behind your back. And I definitely did not need your consent. I let you hire the last three and look how that turned out. I’ll be in control of the hiring of my own people from now on.” Skylar backs up slightly into my hand, her breath halting in her chest, and this is when I realize without a doubt that she is terrified of him.
Carl shakes his head, laughing manically. “Skylar, I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you these last few months, but this childish behavior ends right this second or else you and I are going to have problems. Now get your ass in my car because we have a meeting with your attorney in twenty minutes.” Carl’s tone is a little too fucking threatening for my liking, and if he doesn’t bring it down I’m going to break his jaw to shut him the fuck up.
See, I recognize the look in Carl’s eyes as they bore into Skylar’s. That’s a man that has a lust for rage, someone who revels in their own anger. A man much like me, only a part of me still fears my rage. People like Carl embrace theirs fully, constantly feeding off of it as if it were as necessary as the air that they breathe.
“I don’t think she needs to go anywhere with you, Carl. I can take her wherever she needs to go,” I say, stepping in front of Skylar, placing myself between them.
“Excuse me, boy? Who the hell do you think you are talking to? You do realize that not only am I Skylar’s manager, but I’m also her father.”
“Yeah, and you really do neither one of those jobs decently,” Winter says under her breath as she moves to stand next to Skylar.
