Model Bodyguard (Haven Investigations Book 2)

by Lissa Kasey

  I consented to let Ty have his way and said good-bye. He was the bull-in-a-china-shop type. It was just easier sometimes to let him do his thing. But I did send Ollie a text with Ty’s plan and an apology for letting him invite himself over. Ollie sent back a quick it’s okay.

  I sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the lobby of the auto shop, cane in my lap, since my hip was bugging me again, and tablet in hand. The least I could do was look over Jacob’s case. With Britney keeping Ollie busy, hopefully he’d be too preoccupied to dwell on his ex-boyfriend being around.

  I made a list of all the accusers in the articles about Jacob. There were dozens—over a hundred just from this year alone. No way could we interview all of them. Was Jacob really such a player that he had more than triple digits for lovers just in the past few years? I searched for articles about Ollie and Jacob. There were hundreds of those too, only none of the new slander stuff had begun until Jacob and Ollie had been broken up more than six months.

  Jacob’s stash of documents even included notes from all the past PIs he’d hired. Their thoughts were interesting, but never anything with solid enough evidence to actually charge someone with a crime. Which was likely why Jacob ended up firing or paying off whoever the PI had pointed to. In my opinion it was lazy investigation work.

  If we were going to do this, we’d have to start with the writers of these articles. Ollie was right about there being only four journalists reporting this stuff. Only one had recently dropped out of the game it seemed, as he hadn’t published anything in several months. The journalists were all freelance, writing and selling articles to whatever news media outlet they wanted. There were always pictures included, though most were benign. Sometimes it would just be a picture of the girl or boy Jacob had supposedly been with. Others had them together. More posing like a fan would with their rock star idol before they got an autograph. Lots of stories of sex with minors or “devious” activities, which weren’t actually named. Was he into some sort of hard-core kinky sex?

  I thought about Ollie and his tastes. Ollie was pretty vanilla. He didn’t like pain. And he absolutely hated seeing me in pain, so I couldn’t imagine him doing any sort of BDSM things with Jacob, even if Jacob pushed. Ollie did however have an extensive toy collection. The oddest thing was that he never used them unless we were together. He had his favorites. Hell, I had my favorites. But again, it broke down to the fact the only time he seemed to need sex was when I was with him.

  How did that translate to Jacob? As much as I hated thinking of Ollie and Jacob together, things were beginning to click into place. Jacob said the journalists writing the articles, or maybe even the accusers, knew things about him. Ollie had acknowledged that he seemed to understand what that meant. Maybe the toys had been born out of some desire to keep Jacob interested back when they were together?

  I tapped my remote keyboard in thought. Asking Ollie direct questions would be the easiest way to get answers, but I didn’t want him to worry I thought any differently about him just for whatever Jacob may have coaxed him into. Ollie had said more than once that Jacob tried to talk him into many orgies. And there was always someone flirting with Jacob when they went out. Jacob never put them off. It was an ego thing for him, I was sure. He was famous, talented (if you liked that sort of music), and rich. All of those things drew trouble. Hangers-on. Donovan had proven how dangerous a hanger-on could be.

  Maybe that’s what this was about. A hanger-on who’d been jilted. Or at least felt they were jilted. I uploaded the notes to the cloud server we both used, making it known that I wanted to interview the journalists at least. Starting with the one who’d recently stopped, Fredrick Jones.

  I had to admit, browsing through all the articles really had me suspicious of all the supposed malicious activity of one celebrity. Sure there was always something on the news of someone getting smashed and making a fool out of themselves, but this was like that magnified by a thousand. If Jacob was working at all—recording, touring, interviewing—then there was no chance of even a quarter of this stuff being true. He just wouldn’t have time.

  I sent Ollie a text: Jacob doesn’t have a twin brother, by chance?

  Ha. No. One of him is bad enough. He’s got almost a half-dozen siblings. Most work for him. But no twin, Ollie replied.

  Any who look like him?

  Not really. Similarities, but not enough to pass for a twin.

  Can you send me a list of names to look up? A list popped up in my inbox a second later. I plugged them into Ollie’s background check software from the app he’d created on my phone, and let it do its thing. When Ollie didn’t send another reply, I figured he was busy with Britney. So I stuffed my phone in my pocket and used the time to meditate. The plastic chair still bothered my hip, but I focused on my breathing, reducing the tension in my body, muscle by muscle like Ollie had taught me, until I was almost dozing in the chair. It was an odd sensation that had taken some getting used to. I was still semiaware of my surroundings. Could hear and smell changes in the environment when people moved around me. I didn’t need to see to know one of the mechanics had come into the lobby with a set of keys. Or when a mother of small children came to retrieve her vehicle. I knew when the chairs beside me emptied because of the breeze across my flesh.

  It was almost sort of a waking sleep. Ollie called it his neti neti place. Neither here nor there. He usually had to be lying down to get there. I could do it just about anywhere, mostly because of the years I’d spent in the military, I was sure. Learning to fall asleep at the drop of a hat was as necessary as finding calm.

  One of the mechanics startled me out of my meditation with the snap of a clipboard. I glanced up at him and he waved me over. The SUV was finished. Finally. I signed all the paperwork and handed over the credit card just as my phone buzzed.

  A text from Tyler: Is Jacob supposed to be at your house?

  WTF? I sent back before thinking.

  T: My thoughts exactly.

  I hurried through the last of the paperwork, folding up the receipt to put in my pocket, and headed for the door. How long had Jacob been at the house? Why hadn’t Ollie said something? And wasn’t it funny how my SUV suddenly had four tires slashed when I was across town from Ollie when Jacob had been demanding to see him? I scowled the whole way home.

  Chapter Four

  TYLER’S CAR was parked in front of the garage where Ollie’s car was parked, leaving me enough room to pull in beside it. I wondered if Jacob had left or he’d somehow come without all his bodyguards. There were no unfamiliar cars on the street, so I hoped he’d actually left before I could accuse him of having one of his goons slash my tires.

  No such luck.

  I hit the inside hall and smelled food, my gut clenching in hunger at the tangy scent of steak. Ollie would make me triple brush before kissing him, but it would be worth it. I also smelled broccoli and possibly rice. In the kitchen everyone sat at the small table, even Jacob, though the chairs had been moved so no one was near him, not even Ollie.

  Ollie glanced my way and then looked back down as though guilty.

  “Didn’t we tell you we would let you know tomorrow if we were taking your case?” I asked Jacob.

  He glared at me. “I wanted to speak with Ollie.”

  “Enough to have someone slash my tires to get me out of the way?”

  Ollie’s head snapped up, and he looked from Jacob to me and then back again, his eyes wide. Jacob didn’t even deny it. “You wouldn’t let me see him.”

  “You saw him earlier. And he didn’t want to speak to you alone.” I took the bill out of my pocket for the tires and slapped it on the table in front of him. “You owe us for the tires. I should call the police and file a vandalism report against you. Bet that would make for great news.”

  Tyler put a hand over his mouth to hide a grin. Tomas’s mouth hung open in shock. Jacob just glared at me. I pulled Ollie out of his seat—he was trembling—and kissed him soundly. He relaxed into my embrace, an
d when the kiss ended, he set his head on my shoulder. He sucked in large, full breaths, steadying himself.

  “He said he had more info about the case,” Ollie whispered.

  “Yeah, and he got pushy. I get it.” As much as it frustrated me, I got it. Ollie had spent a year with Jacob. And Jacob was good at manipulating people. He’d had a year to learn how to push Ollie’s buttons.

  “I’d be happy to file a lawsuit,” Tyler piped up. “I’m sure it would make for interesting celebrity news. Rock star slashes ex-boyfriend’s new lover’s tires to get more time with ex. Ex files a restraining order against rock star. TMZ would be all over that.”

  Jacob glared at him. He yanked his wallet out of his pocket and counted out a stack of Benjamins and slapped them on the table. I picked them up and counted them, accepting the extra for the inconvenience.

  “I’ll show you out,” I told him.

  “But I thought we would discuss the case,” Jacob protested, not getting up.

  “We’re not taking your case.” I shoved the money and bill into the front pocket of Ollie’s shorts and put a solid hand on Jacob’s shoulder, squeezing until he flinched. “You’re leaving and you won’t be bothering us again.”

  “And what about the people who work for me?”

  “You’ll just have to apologize to them for being an asshole, won’t you?”

  Tyler got up, pushed up the sleeves of his cashmere sweater up to show his muscular forearms, and cracked his neck. “I’ll help you escort Mr. Elias out,” he offered.

  Jacob practically flew out of his seat. He glanced at Ollie, who wouldn’t even look at him. “Ollie?”

  “Go,” Ollie finally said. “Find another agency.”

  Jacob cursed. “Just because of what this”—he waved his hands at me—“tells you? I’ve missed your obedience, baby. Why just give it away to someone else?”

  Obedience? Since when was Ollie obedient?

  “I’m not your baby. Ty?” Ollie asked.

  Tyler’s smile was huge, white—showing his teeth. He grabbed Jacob by the shoulders and dragged him to the front door. Jacob twisted and tried to pull free, cursing the whole time. Tomas rushed ahead of them and opened the door. Ty shoved Jacob out, slamming it, and locking it behind him. Jacob was still cursing on the doorstep, but Tyler turned his back to the door.

  “What a jerk,” Tomas said. “Did he really have someone slash your tires just so he could get close to Ollie? Wow.” He wrapped his arm around Ty’s waist and put his head on Ty’s chest. Ty was almost a foot taller than Tomas. They were such opposites I wondered sometimes how it worked at all between them. The jock and the pretty boy, lawyer and party boy, but Ty hugged Tomas and kissed the top of his head.

  “He comes near you and I’ll have him so wrapped up in lawsuits he’ll never have time to record another song,” Tyler promised Tomas.

  I turned to Ollie, looking him over.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “I just don’t understand. It’s been over forever. Why do all this?”

  “Because he’s just realizing what he lost. Especially since someone else has you.” Tyler ruffled Ollie’s hair. “All those pictures of you and Kade, and you look so happy. You’re not that wide-eyed afraid kid anymore. That probably pisses him off the most.”

  “Enough about Jacob.” I dragged Ollie back toward the kitchen. “Did you eat? Did any of you eat yet?”

  “No,” Tomas said. They followed us back to the kitchen. He let go of Ty and began unpacking a bag of food, setting things out on the counter buffet style. “Veggie stir-fry in coconut oil for us, Ollie. They have meat. I made sure the meat was packed in a separate bag.” He waved at the other untouched carryout container. He glanced up to meet Tyler’s eyes. “We should eat,” he glanced at his watch.

  “You guys got big plans for the night? A show or something?” I asked as I dug out plates and silverware. Ollie’s stir-fry actually looked really good. Maybe he’d let me pick at it. I didn’t eat much meat myself anymore, though I did occasionally crave it. We got more protein out of broccoli anyway, and Ollie loved the stuff.

  “We’re expecting someone in less than an hour,” Ty said.

  “Here?” Ollie asked. He and Tomas were loading up their plates with veggies.

  “Yes,” Ty told him.

  “We picked up a vegan version of that custard you love too.” Tomas dug a box out of another bag. “It’s coconut milk instead of cream and eggs. I tried it and it’s pretty good. Not exactly the same, but the flavor is close and the texture is smooth.”

  I moved the chairs back to their proper place and sat down with my steak and a load of veggies. No salad, just lots of fresh steamed vegetables in a rainbow assortment. Ty was sort of the opposite of vegan. He ate pretty much all animal protein and fat. Very little by way of carbs or sugar. So the side bowl of rice was small, and no one really grabbed more than a spoonful. Ollie sat beside me already chewing on a crunchy snow pea. Tomas attacked his food with the same gusto. At least this part of life was back to normal.

  I put my hand on Ollie’s knee and let him feed me bites of spicy coconut stir-fry while we talked to Tomas and Tyler about nothing more life changing than their upcoming spring break trip.

  Chapter Five

  “I’LL HELP clean up,” Tomas said when we were done. He moved around the kitchen like a pro, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and leftovers in containers. Not that there was much left. Tyler’s restaurant of choice had been a good one. The steak had been medium rare and soft enough to melt in my mouth. Ollie’s coconut thing had been amazing. I’d have to find out where it was so we could do a drive by pick up some night we were out on a case.

  The doorbell rang and I glanced up. “That better not be Jacob again.”

  Tomas checked his watch. “Nope. Should be B and Will.”

  Ollie’s eyes widened, probably mirroring mine. I looked at Ty. “You’re expecting B and Will?”

  “Yes. Planned. No worries. Most of this has gone through B.”

  This?

  Tomas disappeared into the other room, and a moment later I could hear Britney and Will talking to him as they came toward the kitchen. Will entered first. He was in uniform, so he must have taken a break from work. Will was a tall man, wide through the shoulders, very much still the Marine. He was at least a decade older than me, and his hair was starting to go salt-and-pepper gray. His wife Britney was Ollie’s best friend, and the same age as Ollie. B was gorgeous. She was curvier than most California girls I knew, and not all of it natural, but she wore it well. She was more a young Adele than a Beyoncé, polished and classy rather than trendy—though I knew Ollie did most of her clothes shopping. She’d actually stopped bleaching her hair a few months ago and now had a very pretty shade of chocolate-brown hair that suited her complexion better. I still didn’t know how Will had landed her as a wife, but then somehow I’d gotten Ollie.

  Will nodded his head slightly at Ty, but grinned at Ollie. He set a plastic box and a bag of cat litter on the floor, then untucked a bag of food from under his arm.

  Ollie blinked at the pile and I opened my mouth to say something, but Will held up a hand. “Promise to just listen please. Both of you.” Britney came in carrying a pet carrier with Tomas behind her bent down and cooing into the cage. “Neither of you are allergic,” Will said. “I had Britney ask to be sure.”

  Sure enough there was a cat in the carrier, a small black ball of fur with bright green-yellow eyes. Britney set the cage on the floor and opened the door. The cat didn’t move. It just sat there, perched on its haunches, staring around the room.

  “You got us a cat?” I asked as I looked from Ty to Tomas to Britney and then Will.

  “The shelter had an overabundance of black cats. Black cats are statistically less likely to find a good home than any other color. So they were offering a deal on black cats. Britney and I spent the past week looking for the perfect one.”

  Ollie crouched down to stare into the cage without getting t
oo close. “Perfect for what?” He waved his fingers near the cat, but not close enough to actually touch it or even to get hit if it swiped. “Never had a pet.”

  I recalled a few epic fights between a very young Oliver and Nathan who would tell him no when it came to pets. Nathan wanted Ollie to spend his time studying, not taking care of an animal. I’d argued more than once it would teach responsibility, but Nathan wouldn’t budge. I’d had two dogs and four cats in my life. I was pretty sure one dog was still alive, and lived with my brother. The cats all lived with my parents, so I wasn’t sure of their status. But I knew all about cleaning a litter box, feeding, and brushing a cat.

  “He looks like the cartoon dragon,” Ollie said. I knew which one he was talking about. We watched a lot of kid’s movies. He had the entire Disney and Pixar collections. B and Will sometimes did movie nights with us, and usually we let Ollie choose the movie because the rest of us couldn’t agree on anything else. Will liked war movies, B liked chick flicks. I liked action stuff, so long as it wasn’t war related. So kids’ movies it was. And the cat sort of did look like the dragon with his tail curled around him like that. Funny.

  Ollie glanced up. “Is it a he? What’s its name?” He looked at me. “Can we keep it?”

  I tilted my head and looked sideways at our friends. Tyler’s grin was shit-eating. Britney looked hopeful. Will just shrugged at me.

  “It’s a boy. Already neutered and checked out by a vet.” Will pulled some paperwork out of his jacket pocket. “Tag and vaccination record is in here. He’s also chipped. There’s info in here about how to register the chip specifically to you guys.”

  “He was a stray,” Britney said. “But he should be an indoor cat now. There are fleas and FIV and other things he could get outside.” She shrugged. “Since the house is so big, I thought maybe you could give him a good home. He’s still got his claws. Will wanted to have him declawed, but I read up on it and it’s cruel.”

  Ollie knelt and held a hand out finally close enough to let the cat sniff him. After a moment the cat booped his head on Ollie’s hand. I knew my boyfriend was sold.