“I know what you’re thinking, Chloe.”
Smirking, I raised my eyebrow and shook my head, confident that he’d never fathom the mixed up thoughts running through my mind. “Don’t think so, Gibson…not this time.”
“Uh huh, I think I do, darlin’.” We were sitting side by side in the car on the way from the hotel to meet some people that Gibson wanted to introduce me to. Giving me his mega-watt smile with those perfect teeth and lips that I just wanted to bite and suck and press mine against all the time, I wasn’t quite sure what I was thinking from that point on.
“Alright smart pants, what am I thinking?”
“You’re thinking how did I get to fuck a rock star, then thinking what are we having for dinner, then thinking damn is this happening? You know how I know that?”
Damn, he was good. His guess was almost spot on.
Without conceding that was the case, I smirked, feeling pretty impressed at how intuitive he was. I kept my face passive and encouraged him to continue.
“Enlighten me.”
“How?”
Looking at Gibson for clarity, I was puzzled at what he meant by ‘how.’
“Think about it, Chloe. How did I find you? I mean, how did I get given your number? How many phone numbers are there out there? How did I manage to persuade you to give me a chance? How did you persuade yourself to take the risk with me? How am I going to keep you happy with all the shit that goes on in my daily life? So darlin’… ‘how’ is pretty important and I figure if you are feeling anything like I’m feeling for you, you’ll be having a couple ‘hows’ of your own.
How is it that we’re so different but so alike? As soon as I thought that I snickered again, because I had just thought of another ‘how’.
“Don’t analyze this thing between us, Chloe. Just be thankful. I’m so fucking thankful, I’ve become religious. Every time I look at you I can’t help thinking divine intervention made Toby’s PA send me the wrong number. I thank God I found you and the heavens for my chance with you. When I look at you I think, sweet Jesus you’re my beautiful savior...my amazing timely angel. So you’re kind of my new religion, Chloe.”
Gibson smirked bashfully at his romantic, cheesy admission just as we pulled off the road and through some very imposing black steel security entrance gates, and although I was touched by what he just said, I became curious as to where we were going.
A dense tree lined road stretched for about half a mile with close circuit cameras scanning our every move from both sides of the road and I was curious as to where the hell we were going. Every so often I noticed spiked bars running across the road, like the kind I’ve seen in airport rental places to stop cars driving off the lot without permission by puncturing the tires, and the only thing that came to mind was whoever lived here took their safety pretty seriously.
Glancing back up at the sky, it was a grey afternoon in contrast to the beautiful morning. And the air was oppressive, there was a storm brewing by the look of the heavy black and grey clouds in the sky. Heavy splashes of rain spattered on the windshield just as we cleared the tree lined driveway and turned left, confused when I saw a derelict depository, a bank and an apartment block then a row of three houses with another three backing onto them.
The scene looked like a mocked up street— an abandoned street with no people. A plumber’s van, a bus, an old UPS van, a station wagon and an SUV were parked strategically outside some of the buildings on both sides of the road.
“Gib, you want me to stay here or go deal with that other matter and have Johnny come back for you?”
Glancing at his heavy platinum wrist watch, Gibson looked thoughtful, then looked back at Jerry. “Send Johnny over, I want you to check in with Syd. We’ll be done here by three and we’ll eat at the venue. Can you call Charlotte to call ahead and tell them Chinese food.” Gibson suddenly turned to look at me. “That alright with you, Chloe?”
Nodding in agreement, my gaze switched between the two of them, and wondering what was going on with Syd, because I thought they didn’t work with Zuul Records any more.
“Why are we here, Gibson? Where are we? What are we doing here?”
“Protection, Chloe. I told you. We’re here because Jerry and Johnny shortlisted some candidates to keep you safe. Charlotte arranged some interviews. You can’t go to the restroom with Jerry in tow, and I figured that you’ll want to see your parents and Ruby without me at some time or other. I mean, as much as I want you with me all of the time, I know that’s not possible, so I’m being pragmatic about it and just making sure you’re going to be safe when you’re not.” Gibson saw the concern on my face and his eyes softened as he took my hand.
“I decided coming here would be the easier option. It was only a ten minute drive from the hotel and it would have taken longer to arrange for the candidates to come to us, with security checks and everything.” Gibson had really been thinking things through and his aim was to make sure I felt confident in the role of his girlfriend.
Stepping out of the car onto the wet sand colored gravel driveway, my querying eyes scanned up the antiquated red brick building. Turning my head, I glanced back at the dilapidated buildings that looked even drearier for the rain; the shell of a ghost town stood there and I tried to take it all in as I digested what he was saying to me.
Turning back, I tipped my head and stared at the building in front of me. Arched, lead lined windows donned the upper level and rectangular ones at the bottom, all uniform and the twin block turrets at either end gave the building an imposing look. Intricate stone moldings ran up the sides of the massive black gloss painted double doors at the entrance hall situated in the center of the building.
Walking slowly inside, it smelt of cleaning products. Gibson held my hand and kissed my head, then pulled his head back to look at me. “This is the downside of being with me. I know it has to be daunting for you, Chloe, but you’ll get used to having them close by. They’ll become your friends.
At that moment, I wasn’t sure that I wanted someone to come to the bathroom with me or have someone pick my friends for me, for that matter. Panic crept up from the depths of my belly and began to suffocate me, but Gibson instinctively knew I would be starting to freak out and slid his strong hand along my back and around my waist, pulling me close to his body.
“Trust me, Chloe. I got you, darlin’, nothing bad is gonna happen to you. We’re going to make sure of that.”
The strong smell of wood polish distracted me as soon as we entered the grand hallway. Oak panelled walls and hardwood parquet flooring in a herringbone pattern stretched the length and width of the huge space. A wide staircase on the left hand side swept up and around at the top with a wrought iron banister railing running the length of the next floor to the other side of the hallway. An art deco chandelier hung from the center, which looked very incongruent given the very conservative paneled walls.
The clipped sound my stiletto heels made on the floor echoed even after I had stopped walking. The structure of the place felt cool and uninviting. The austere appearance gave me the feel of entering an institution of some kind.
Distant footsteps echoed in and became louder until we heard a door latch being sprung as one of the doors to our right creaked open and the door hinges squeaked, then a tall middle aged, military-type guy walked purposely towards us.
“Mr. Barclay. Good to meet you.” A tight smile on his face, he regarded me briefly before introducing himself. “Terrance Blake at your service. Follow me, please.” Spinning on his heel, he began walking back towards the door he’d just appeared from. Gibson and I made eye contact and he raised his eyebrow, smirked then shook his head in reaction before smiling wider as we walked behind him.
Ushering us through the door we realized this must be Terrance’s office. A picture of him with a short brown-haired woman and an awkward looking teenager in braces donned his desk. Again, like the rest of the building we’d seen it was purely functional, but with a large cherry
red Chesterfield sofa over on one side of the room.
As soon as we were seated Terrace gave us a file and told us that the first candidate was an Iraqi veteran and had worked security detail with al-Jaafari, the temporary Prime Minister selected directly after the fall of Saddam Hussein. Her file was pretty impressive and at thirty seven she had been in the military for twenty years before retiring earlier in the year. Her picture looked kind of intimidating.
“Brilliant career…too old.” Gibson closed the file and placed it back on the large mahogany desk. “Chloe is going to clubs and events, we need someone that slots into her world and looks the part. I don’t want it to be instantly recognizable who her bodyguard is. Don’t get me wrong, thirty seven is no age, but ten years from now that woman’s appearance will stand out in places like that. We want someone that’s got longevity for Chloe. Trust is extremely important, so the less change in her circle the better.”
Initially, I had thought he was being ageist and harsh, but when he explained the reason for dismissing such a heroine out of hand, I had to admit that it was a sound decision and there was no malice in it.
Terrance looked through a pile muttering to himself, I, j, k… then slipped the file that Gibson had given back in order and patted the pile square again. Gibson reached over and pulled the next buff card file from the smaller pile and began thumbing through with a bunched brow scanning the pages quickly. “Yup, we want to see this one.” Placing the file back on the desk, he swiped the next and continued the process until he had two that we were going to meet.
Feeling more than a little bowled over by Gibson’s assertiveness, I had to speak up or I felt I’d be in too deep to do it later. “Could you excuse us a minute please Terrance, I’d like to have a private word with Gibson?” Terrance pushed his chair back, stood and pushed it in again, smoothing the back of it before turning and leaving the room.
“What’s wrong, Chloe?” Gibson stared at me with a concerned expression.
“If you are picking someone to be around me, don’t you think it might be an idea if I had some input? Don’t I get a say in what people I have to spend so much time with?”
Gibson tugged my hand and patted his thigh and I moved over and sat on his lap. Smiling softly in reassurance, he tucked my hair behind my ear. “Chloe, that’s why you’re here with me. This selection process…I know what I’m looking for.” Leaning over, he tapped the first of the two files.
“This one—she’s in, there’s no negotiation on that. Right age, right appearance, right credentials. I don’t care if you like her or not, she has all the skills we need to keep you safe.”
“How do I know that, Gibson, if you haven’t even discussed her with me?”
Swiping the file off the desk, he opened it and started reading aloud. “Emma Scott, twenty seven years old, six years military, decorated for active service, Intelligence Expeditionary Service medal, state kick boxing champion, Tae Kwon Do champion, platoon cross country champion, has rural surveillance and close surveillance training and looks fucking bad-ass enough to be your friend.”
Gibson turned the file around and the four by two inch picture staring back at me was a sweet looking dark haired girl with huge green eyes and the sweetest smile. He was right, no one would ever think of her being my bodyguard. She could be one of the girls on a night out.
Trying to lighten the mood I asked, “So you get to pick this one. Is the second choice mine? Can I have a huge guy with a ripped body and bad-boy tattoos please?”
Gibson scowled and his face took on a dark look. “You’re having females, Chloe, I’m your ripped, tattooed bad-boy—the only guy taking care of my woman from now on is me. I watched that movie, ‘The Bodyguard.’ I’m taking no chances with a male living at close quarters with you.”
Expecting to see a smirk after he said it, I was surprised to see him staring at me straight faced and I realized he was completely serious. Luckily, I managed to bite back a grin and was saved by a knock on the door interrupting us. Terrance Blake re-entered with a small female. Gibson stood and addressed her.
“Good afternoon, Lois. Take a seat, we’ll be with you in a moment.”
Turning to me, he raised an eyebrow. “Are we done with the discussion? Are you going to trust me to know what’s right for you, darlin’?”
Nodding yes, I figured that if something came up during the next hour with them, I’d be confident enough to put my ten cents worth in if I felt it necessary.
In fact, by the time we were done with the interviews and I’d met both women, I was feeling more positive about having two female companions. It was pretty tough being around the band when the only female to speak to was Tori.
My assessment of Tori hadn’t changed since her comments toward me in regards to Gibson being a ‘lot of man.’ The way she tried to warn me off got my back up and I should thank her really, because she helped me make my mind up to take a chance on him.
Johnny turned up and the decision was made that Emma and Lois were going to be my ‘minders’ for the duration. As we were leaving the room, Gibson asked to use the restroom. This prompted me to do the same. Terrance nodded at a door directly across from us.
“Both facilities are through there.”
Gibson took my hand and I was conscious of how much noise my heels were making, walking across the hallway with him. Smirking wickedly at me, he placed his mouth close to my ear and whispered, “Get you, attention-seeker.”
Pulling back, he smirked wickedly then turned and pulled the black latch to open the door. Inside was a short corridor with both restrooms next to each other. I barely registered this before Gibson swung me around and pressed into me, kissing me with so much passion I was in no doubt he’d missed the closeness we shared.
Peppering kisses down my neck, he was delivering a kiss every few words and I was giggling at how worked up he was.
“Fuck. Chloe. The noises. You made. Encouraging. Those women. Made me so horny. I nearly asked for a fuck break.”
Chuckling close to my ear, he ran his warm hands up and into my hair at the side of my face. “After the gig tonight, you are going to be so worn smooth. Make sure you stock up on your energy with that Chinese food, because I won’t be responsible if you pass out with what I have planned for you.”
Shaking my head, I swatted his arm and pushed him back by his chest. “Gibson Barclay, is that all you ever think about? Getting laid?”
Gibson gave me that sexy roguish grin he does and my heart fluttered in my chest at how attracted I was to him. Smirking he stated, “Here lately, pretty much yeah. I don’t hear you complaining…screaming yes…complaining…” Winking cheekily at me, he turned and pushed the door for his restroom. “The difference now is that I have my own pussy instead of random women letting me borrow one.”
My jaw dropped and his words shocked me to my core. Gibson left me standing with my mouth gaping at his crude comment. I should have been horrified, but I couldn’t be mad at him when what he really meant was that he had me.
CHAPTER 13 - TAGGED
Chloe
Johnny drove us to the airport in Michigan after we left the security facility. I was relieved that Gibson was taking me with him to his gig, because I was still unsure about Morgan and I wasn’t convinced we’d seen the last of her after our stilted interactions and Gibson’s dismissal. Actually, if truth be known, I think if it had been me I’d have been devastated to be cast aside like that.
One thing had not changed about Gibson in all this time, he never made excuses for his decisions, and that worried me for the future. What might happen if and when my time was up? Would it be Johnny or Jerry’s job to protect him from any backlash?
Dark twisted thoughts began to seep into my mind. If Gibson decided to throw in the towel with me, from what I’d seen of him in the past, there would be no discussion around it. I knew he’d just sever the ties. End of the story. That revelation stonewalled me and I sat struggling with yet another topic to think about. T
he transfer between the car and the plane became a blur, my mind preoccupied with doubts again.
Everyone expected me to be confident and ecstatic because I was Gibson Barclay’s girlfriend. Women would kill to be able to say that. I knew having this label would carry a special status, especially in the world of music and the celebrity scene and even more so with Gibson Barclay’s mega rock star status.
However, when everything was stripped back—the fame, his privilege, money and the excessive quirky lifestyle—underneath all of that, Gibson was just a guy who was fallible and I was… just a girl who was a tiny bit broken and scared.
The evidence so far from Gibson seemed extremely positive, with him going to lengths to ensure my protection, the attentive way he cared for me and the fact he’d told me he loved me, it all said Gibson wanted me.
I knew I’d been on the fence because Kace’s negative, manipulative ways were still causing me doubts and because of my past, I expected things to go wrong in my future. Everything about us seemed too good to be true, so it was no surprise I was having trouble convincing myself that this could pan out. Fans already hated me and we were starting our fledging relationship with the world’s media watching our every move.
“What?” Gibson was tugging my jacket off my shoulders and I turned my head to look at him. I had been completely preoccupied.
“Huh?” Meeting Gibson’s concerned eyes, I took in his frowning face full of concern and swallowed noisily.
“You’re doing it again…thinking you can’t do this, aren’t you?” Gibson’s mouth pulled into a line.
I had no idea how he did that—knew instinctively what was going on in my head. Gibson sat down in the seat next to me and buckled both my and then his belt, turned as best he could and gently teased my hair behind my ears with gentle fingers. Cradling the sides of my face in his hands, he gave me a sexy half smile.
“Chloe, you gotta fucking stop this. All the time your mind is toing and froing, you’re talking yourself out of something so incredible that’s happening between us. Have you ever thought I might just be feeling what you are feeling? That any second you are going to think what the fuck—I was happier without all the attention and just take off…that I’d never see you again? Don’t you understand it would fucking kill me if you were to walk out of my life like that?”
Trusting Gibson (Last Score Book 2) Page 11
