Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“And that’s it?” She spoke with a ferocity that told me she’d been going to bat for Lofton her entire life and had absolutely no plans to stop.
Wonderful. I was getting shit from Leo and Lofton’s pocket-sized pal.
“That’s what she pays me for.”
“I guess the head-fuckery is free then?”
I violently cast my gaze down at her. “Come again?”
“I never saw her hug Marty like that.” She arched a thin blonde brow and held her ground.
I exhaled slowly through my nose. Leo had already stomped on my last damn nerve, so I didn’t have much patience left to offer her. But if she loved Lofton, she deserved better than me biting her head off.
“Personal security isn’t one size fits all. Marty was incredible, and he and Lofton had fifteen years to figure out what worked best for them. We’ve had weeks.”
“Exactly. Which is why I find it strange that Chris was so close, and she almost trampled him to get to you.” She let that sit for exactly one second before adding, “That’s not nothing, Devon.”
“She trusts me,” I clipped, my tone rougher than intended.
Francine drifted over, quieter than Brittany but no less pointed. “I think what my friend, who has approximately zero volume control and even less of a filter, is trying to say is that we’re worried. Even before all this happened and she lost Marty, Sebastian put her through hell. And sometimes, when everything is scary, people gravitate to the things that make them feel safe.” She tilted her head, her green eyes gentle with understanding. “Nobody is questioning whether she trusts you. That’s obvious. The question is whether that trust is coming from a healthy place or if she’s just latching onto something steady in the middle of the worst chapter of her life.”
The words crashed over me like a tsunami. Pain that had absolutely no business existing in my chest exploded throughout my body. I carefully steeled my reaction, even as my stomach rolled.
I hadn’t considered that whatever the hell was growing between me and Lofton was some kind of fucked-up trauma bond, because I wasn’t present for any of the trauma.
Everything that had happened between us had been because of her plotting and choosing.
Her hands on me.
Her eyes on me.
Her body on me.
However, just because I wasn’t the bad guy, making moves on a woman I was supposed to be protecting, didn’t automatically make me the good guy either.
And wasn’t that just the entire fucking story of my life.
Before I could respond, the bathroom door swung open.
Lofton emerged, smoothing the front of her dress, her eyes bouncing between the three of us.
“What’s going on?”
“Say your goodbyes,” I ordered.
She shot an accusatory glare at Brittany. “What did you say to him?”
She shrugged like an innocent cherub. “We were just chatting about how gorgeous you look tonight.”
Francine wasn’t as quick with the bullshit until Brittany elbowed her. “Mhm. So pretty.”
And yeah, she was, not that I could think about that anymore.
Fuck.
I felt her eyes searching the side of my face.
But I didn’t give her anything to find.
“We’re leaving in two minutes.” I stated, somehow pulling off a halfway convincing smile. I guessed it was enough because she dragged Brittany into a long hug. Francine whispered something into her ear, causing Lofton to giggle, and then she was with me, moving toward the door.
Ignoring the way she felt at my side, I kept my eyes forward and shoved open the door. Main street was quiet with only two parked cars and a couple walking a dog half a block down. Chris jogged ahead of us to the SUV with his eyes up and ready.
Ten steps to the car.
We only made it five before the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Movement in the darkened doorway across the street caught my attention. A person in the shadows wasn’t necessarily a threat, but the camera in his hand gave me all the information I needed.
“Dammit,” I hissed, just as the flash detonated.
Lofton’s whole body locked, her feet rooting to the sidewalk.
I turned, placing myself between her and the lens. “Keep walking. It’s paparazzi. You know how to do this. Head down, get to the car.”
Muscle memory overruled her nervous system, and she tucked her head and matched my pace without another word.
Chris had the door open before we reached it. I loaded her in, rounded the hood in four strides, and slid behind the wheel. The paparazzo darted across the street, camera held high, angling for a shot through the rear window. The satisfying thud of Chris tackling him on the sidewalk put a brief smile on my face.
As I peeled off the curb, my headlights dragged across the far side of the street, snagging on something that didn’t belong.
A man standing at the mouth of the alley.