Protection: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

“
I
n celeb gossip news
, Elly Parsons has all but disappeared from the media since her recent scandal broke. She was caught in an intimate embrace with a man who’s supposed to be her own stepbrother—” a handsome blond entertainment newscaster is saying on TV.

I frown at the screen and raise the remote to turn it off, but his redheaded lady co-star interrupts.

“Wait, wait, Jeremy. We don’t know who the mystery man is in the photos, just that Elly was caught lip locked with some blurry-looking guy. I don’t even think this is a scandal.”

“But you agree that if it is her own stepbrother, that would be quite another matter—”

I turn it off with a sigh.

We got lucky… kind of. Unfortunately, the whiff of disgrace has driven Elly even farther from me. She’s barely spoken to me in weeks; since the photos of us at the wedding surfaced last week, she hasn’t spoken a single word to me.

I can’t figure out her reaction, but I certainly fucking hate it.

I find Elly sitting on the couch in her suite, reading a glossy gossip magazine. Her brow is furrowed as she flips through it, no doubt looking for a hint of the scandal she still fears will break.

Our
scandal, the one where people figure out just what Elly Parsons has been doing, and who she’s been doing it with.

Add that to the fact that everyone would know that I’d been fucking my client — we are both going to be under heavy fucking fire.

Career-ending fire.

Still, we can’t go on like this, just not talking. It’s beyond goddamned miserable.

“Elly, we need to talk.”

She looks up at me with a frown, then glances behind me.

“Where’s Karen?” she asks.

“You’ve had her on almost twenty four hours a day for three weeks. She’s taking a damned day off.”

Elly arches her brows.

“You have a lot of opinions about my staffing decisions,” she says, tossing the magazine aside.

“How long are you going to punish me?” I ask her bluntly.

“Connor…” she sighs, rubbing a hand across her face. “You’re not being punished.”

“Really? You’ve all but banned me from having any direct contact with you.”

Elly leans back on the couch and tilts her head, giving me a curious glance.

“What would you have me do, Connor?” she asks after a beat.

“I should still be your head bodyguard. I have the most experience, plus the sheer size to take someone down.”

“Karen’s doing a great job.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.”

She looks away, a pained flash on her face. There and gone again, before I’m even sure I saw it in the first place.

“The tour company is going to let me drop all but one guard,” she says. “You and Bill and Lawrence will be paid in full, of course. But this is the end of the road for you guys.”

I tense.

“Are you insane?” I ask her. “That guy is still out there, waiting for you to be vulnerable. Don’t make it easy for him just because you and I are… uncomfortable.”

Elly rolls her eyes. She stands and stretches, and it takes all of my willpower not to stare. Hell, not to walk over and kiss her, touch her.

I want her so bad. The desire didn’t fade like I expected; actually, it only grows with each day. The more she pushes me away, the more I need her.

I wake in the night, drenched in sweat, panic filling my bones, thinking she’s been hurt. Just dreams, so far, but there’s
no way in fuck
I’m going to sit back and let it happen.

“Look, Connor. We haven’t heard from him in nearly a month. Things between you and I are strained, which is stressful for us both.” She hesitates. “Frankly, the Ravens want me to start a new relationship, get my face back on TMZ.”

“A new relationship,” I repeat. My fists clench so hard that I’m worried I’ll break my own fingers.

“Yeah. I mean, a fake one. I’m not really sure,” she sighs. “I don’t really have the energy for the details.”

“Elly, this isn’t right.”

“Well, it’s not your decision,” she says. She walks over to the kitchenette and gets a bottle of water, taking a sip.

“Just like it wasn’t my decision when an anonymous benefactor paid for Rose’s rehab treatment? Cash, up front, including airfare to Mexico City.”

I cross my arms.

Elly looks at me, anger flashing in her eyes.

“I did it for your dad and my mom,” she snaps.

“Right. Of course,” I say.

“Connor, what do you
want
from me?”

She looks at me, meets my gaze head-on, and I feel a flash of guilt when I see that she’s hurting.

“I want…” I trail off.

I’ve tried to figure out some way to make this work, make things okay between us. I’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights trying to force a solution.

Nothing, so far.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” she says. “I have to go change for the show.”

She stalks off to her bedroom. I drop onto the couch to wait.

Somehow, this can’t be how my last week on her tour goes. I have to figure out how to make this right.

But how, when it’s protecting
her
life and
her
reputation that’s keeping us apart?

I glance over to the pile of her suitcases lined up on the ground near the balcony. One of them is open, a crisp new shoe box sticking out of it.

Elly keeps all her shoes in the bedroom, though.

I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help myself. I walk over and nudge the top off the box.

My heart drops like a stone.

“Jesus, Elly.”

I grab a stack of post cards, each featuring a highly violent, graphically sexual image on one side. The other sides are filled with scrawled, cramped handwriting.

Bitch, kill you
, and
cheating whore
catch my eye right off the bat.

All threats, every single line.

That’s not all, either. There are a couple envelopes with locks of hair, and one stuffed with panties. Some of the ones that disappeared from her hotel room, if I had to put money on it

“Elly!” I shout.

I turn and storm into her bedroom. She’s just pulling on a white blouse, and when I walk in she covers her tits. Like I haven’t seen them, like I have done a hell of a lot more than see her tits before.

“Connor, get out.” Her voice is flat and emotionless. Her expression is fatigued. “I don’t want to be late.”

“You want to explain these?” I ask, holding up the post cards.

Her eyes flash as she walks over and snatches them from my hand. She opens the drawer of her bedside table and throws them in, slams the drawer.

“No, I don’t,” she hisses.

“You just told me that you haven’t heard from your stalker.”

“And I will keep saying that. It’s none of your business, Connor. Now get out.”

“Elly, are you out of your fucking mind? This couldn’t be
more
my business. You’re in danger, for fuck’s sake.”

“No. No,” she says, raising her hands, cheeks flushed with fury. “You know what? This isn’t your business at all anymore, because you’re
fired
.”

“You can’t fire me for trying to protect you.”

She turns and points at me, livid. I’ve never seen Elly shout, not really, but she screams at me at the top of her lungs.

“I can do anything I want, Connor. You work for me. You’ve crossed the final line, and we’re done here. I’m calling Karen now, and by god I will fucking lie to her if I have to, if that’s what it takes to get you out of my face and out of my damned life.”

I square off with her, ready to bargain.

“Elly, what do
you
want? Huh? You want to go back to the way things were, to us dating in secret? You think that’s all you fucking deserve? Fine, let’s do that.”

“Fuck you, Connor.”

She pulls out her cell and starts dialing, and before I can stop her she’s shouting at Karen to get up here.

“Get out before she gets here,” Elly says, holding the phone up. “Don’t make this any worse than you already have.”

“Elly, you care for me. You want me. If you want to be together, let’s be together.”

“No.”

“Tell me what you want!” I demand.

“I want to have never met you!” she roars, turning and pacing away from me. I can hear her begin to cry, and I walk over to wrap my arms around her.

“Elly—”

“Have you never been told no before, Connor?” Elly growls. “You think I’m some delicate, heartbroken flower. Well guess what? Nothing will ever hurt me again, because I was too fucking damaged to begin with. You can’t ruin what’s already broken to pieces.”

“That is not true.” I give her a little shake, and she gasps. “Elly, we can work something out, I promise you.”

“Connor, get the
fuck
away from her.”

Karen’s arrived, and she is fucking
pissed
.

“Fine,” I say, grinding my teeth as I release Elly and back away.

“Get out,” Karen says. “Right now. I don’t want to fucking see your face again today, Gray.”

Shaking my head, I look at Elly.

“This isn’t what you want,” I tell her. “I know you, Elly. I— care for you. You care for me. We can make this work.”

“Gray, I swear I will fucking taze you,” Karen says. The look on her face says she’s not close to kidding, either.

“Fine. Elly, call me when you want me. Doesn’t matter when or where. I’ll come get you.”

Elly looks at me, tears running down her face. I think for the briefest moment, I see hope and longing on her face.

But then she shakes her head and turns away, and Karen is shoving me out of the room, slamming the door in my face.

Damn
. That isn’t how I wanted that to go, not by a fucking mile.

How the hell have I hurt Elly bad enough to make her that fucking angry with me?

I stalk out of her suite and straight downstairs to the bar. I’m about to signal the bartender, drown my woes in whisky, then I stop.

I think of Rose, of my mother.

That weakness is too close to home, too easy to get lost in. Instead, I decide to head out for dinner, clear my head.

I can come back once Elly’s show is over, try to talk to her again.

Offer her more, if that’s what she needs. If only I knew what the fuck she wants, I’d give it to her, I swear.

I’ll find out. Tonight.

That’s a promise I make for Elly, and for myself.

I
stand
at the makeup mirror, letting Gisella make the last minute adjustments to my glittering stage makeup. I’m done up as a shining circus performer, with bold dark eyes and bright red lips. And a shit ton of glitter, of course.

“You okay, girl?” Gisella clucked. “You seem really pale.”

“Just nervous about adding the aerial ropes tricks to the show tonight,” I say.

“Stop fidgeting,” she scolds me.

I sigh. I feel so fucking heavy, after my fight with Connor. I wish I could have a bit of time to myself, take a break or at least a nap.

But no.
The show must go on
.

“You’re all done here. Try not to smudge it, okay?” Gisella tells me.

“Can I ask you something?” I say, glancing up at Gisella as she brushes glitter off her hands onto the floor.

“Yep.”

“Do you consider yourself my friend or my employee?”

She hesitates, and I can see her trying to decide what lie to tell me. My stomach turns before she even speaks.

“Friend, of course,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”

For a second, I’m tempted to fire her. That’s how I handle problems in my life now, apparently.

But Gisella just flashes me a fake smile and heads out of the room, and I let her go.

I can’t really bring myself to care. Not about Gisella, not about Brad, not about the show.

I heave a dramatic sigh just as Karen steps into the room. She eyes me in the mirror and takes the seat that Gisella just abandoned, dropping down heavily.

“I’ve never seen so much glitter in one place. You look like Tinkerbell came on your face,” she tells me.

I bust out laughing, as Karen intended. I can’t help it, her vulgar humor gets me every time.

“God, fuck this day,” I say once my laughter subsides. “I need a vacation. I wanna go to the beach or something.”

Karen gives me a look.

“That thing with Connor… do I need to fuck him up?” she asks. Her tone is playful, but I know she means it.

Then again, apparently I think I have very special friendships with all my employees. It’s also become apparent that I’m fairly delusional when it comes to my perception of all my personal relationships.

“Elly?” Karen asks, patting my knee.

“Huh? Oh. No. I mean… I’m mad at him, but it’s nothing that a little distance can’t cure.”

A lie if I’ve ever heard one
, and I can see that Karen knows it, too.

“We should get moving toward the stage. That costume is a bitch to get into. It’s the tighter every time I put it on,” I joke.

I stand, and then I falter. For a brief second I’m lightheaded, and I have to steady myself on my chair.

“Hey, hey,” Karen says. She takes my elbow, looking worried.

“I’m fine,” I say. I shake my head and take a deep breath. “See? Just clumsy.”

“I should get the venue doctor,” Karen says.

“Nope! I’m good. It’s just stress. I’m going to warm up, get focused.”

I shake off her hand and her concern, striding through the back hallways until we hit the costume change area on the left side of the stage. I glance up at the stage, at the silky strips of fabric that make up the trapeze I’ll swing from in just a handful of minutes.

I swallow back the nausea that swamps me just looking at the thing; I’ve never been less certain of any aspect of a stage performance.

“You look like you’re going to puke.”

I give Karen my harshest glare and drop to the floor, spreading my legs out and stretching.

“I want to tell you something,” Karen says, coming over to sit next to me as I limber up. “Something… you know, personal.”

“Okay,” I say, curious.

Karen looks conflicted, and I actually watch her take a deep breath to work up her courage.

What could possibly be so hard to say?

“Did you know I was married?” she asks.

I sit up, shocked.

“Uh,
no
.”

“Well, I was. Connor knows a little of my story, but I’ve never really told it all to anyone. I want to tell it to you, though.”

“Of course. I mean, I’d be honored,” I say, folding my legs up to sit more comfortably as I listen.

“My ex wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t good to me before we were serious. He wasn’t good to me before we got married. He was a jerk, and a cheater, and at least part of his money came from dealing drugs.”

I can’t help the way my mouth opens in surprise. I gape at her.

“You married a dealer? You’re like… the most uptight, righteous person I know.”

Karen laughs and blushes.

“Now, yeah. But then… well, I didn’t have the confidence to find someone better. He wanted me, I wanted to be wanted. So when he asked me to marry him, I said yes.”

“Wow. Well obviously it didn’t last,” I say, wanting the rest of the story.

Karen looks down at her hands, clearly embarrassed.

“He started hitting me, pretty much right after the honeymoon. It… it went on for almost a year. He blacked my eyes, broke my arm, broke my ribs. Put me in the hospital a bunch of times.”

“Jesus, Karen. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to listen.” Her words sound sharp, but I can tell she’s stressed just telling me something this intimate.

“So what happened?” I ask, trying to keep my tone gentle.

“Well, the last time he hit me, I went to the hospital. The doctors told me I’d miscarried.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I didn’t know…”

Karen stops and rubs her fingers against her lips. Clearly this is still a fresh, raw wound for her. I reach out and pat Karen’s shoulder tentatively, unsure how to comfort my usually-prickly bodyguard.

“Thanks,” Karen said after she recovered a little. “When that happened, I knew that he’d gone too far. It was one thing to let him hit me, disrespect me, hurt me. But it’s another thing to let someone take something from you that they can never return or pay back or fix. There’s a line that I crossed that day, and I decided that I wanted to be different. I wanted a different life, if I ever got another chance to be a mom.”

I press a hand to my heart, genuinely moved.

“Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

Karen clears her throat.

“No problem.”

“You know Connor would never hit me, though, right?” I ask.

Karen gave me an exasperated look.

“Of course I know that. I wasn’t finished.”

“Oh.”

“After that day, I rested up at my mom’s house. Got my health back. Started taking jiu-jitsu classes, working out. Making myself strong, inside and out. Eventually I filed divorce papers, and when my ex came around banging on my mom’s door, telling me I didn’t get to divorce him, that I wasn’t in control, I dragged his ass out into the street. I beat him in front of the whole neighborhood, left him bleeding in the street. Just like he did to me. So I lost something to him, yeah, but I also took something from him that can’t be bought or given. Self-respect, and power from within.”

“That’s fucking awesome,” I say.

“You are never stuck,” Karen says, giving me a meaningful glance. “You always hold the key to your own happiness. If you want something badly enough, you can change your own life.
That
was my point.”

“Ah. I see.”

And I do see. Karen is talking about Connor after all, about the fact that I’m basically head over heels for someone I won’t let myself have. Even Connor understands why this won’t work, can’t work…

If only my stubborn heart would get the fuck over it already, bounce back in the way I have so many times, from so many heartbreaks.

“You love him.”

I arch a brow at Karen.

“Sorry?”

“He loves you too,” she says, patting my hand.

“Ummm…”

She rolls her eyes and gets to her feet.

“It’s not my place to tell you what to do with your staff, but I think you should text him and call off his firing. If you two are really meant for each other, you can figure something out.”

The two-minute warning bell goes off backstage, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“I’ll think about it. I have to get dressed.”

“I’ll be right here,” Karen says with a soft smile.

I rush to climb into my skintight silver leotard and wicked red heels, take my mic from one of the crew, and then paste my Elly Parsons, Pop Star smile on.

I stride out onto the stage and start the show, going through the motions as best I can. I’m worn out, but the energy of the crowd helps. I sail through the first act of the show, stumble through my first costume change, and then charge back out on stage.

I throw my hand up and pose as the trapeze comes drifting down. I grasp it, hoist myself up, and start the wildly difficult act that my choreographers worked up.

To be fair, I was pretty distracted. And I still made it through maybe three quarters of the act before I bust my ass, falling off the trapeze onto the floor with a
whuff
.

I jump up and play it off, but my heart’s not in it anymore. I rush through the rest of the show, all the while wondering.
What am I doing here?

And,
is this job really worth giving up what I feel for Connor?

I’m starting to think it’s not.

That means what I feel for Connor might be real, which scares me more than anything.

“Elly, are you okay?” Bill asks as I step off the stage after my final bow. “You landed pretty hard back there.”

“I’m good. I need to make a phone call,” I say, heading back to find Brad, who’s holding my bag.

Brad doesn’t speak to me, just gives me a condescending glance as he paces back and forth backstage. As usual, he’s on the phone.

“Oh, yeah. Things happen. Yeah, Elly’s totally fine. She’s
trained
to fall,” I can hear him telling someone. “Right? Funny, I know. She’s such a professional about it all, though.”

Suddenly, it no longer seems like he has my back. It seems like Brad just leeches off me and my fame and hard work. He’s so fucking high-handed toward me, and yet… where would he be without me?

I take my purse and head into the back hallways. I know I should wait for one of the bodyguards to catch up with me, but I need some privacy. I’m not even sure what I want to say to Connor, but I know I want to be alone to do it.

“Elly, hey—” Gisella says, spotting me and following me down the hall.

“Go away.”

“Listen, about what you asked earlier—”

I turn to her, narrowing my eyes.

“I don’t think you want to talk to me right now. I got to thinking, earlier, how the rumors got started about Connor being in those photos.”

“Elly, you and Connor flaunted yourself in the press,” Gisella says, going cold.

“Yeah, but the really juicy details, the part about our parents… The paps didn’t dig that up. Somebody told them. It had to be someone close enough to eavesdrop on me, which means you, Brad, or one of the bodyguards.”

Gisella crosses her arms, looking pissed as hell.

“And?” she challenges me.

“The bodyguards are loyal to Connor. Brad’s loyal to his career, so he wouldn’t have done it. That leaves you.”

She hesitates just long enough for me to know she’s guilty.

Bitch.

“You can’t prove that.”

“No… probably not. But I have enough money to take you to court over it, just to make your life miserable. If I were you, I’d be looking for new employment ASAP. Also, I wouldn’t violate the non-disclosure again… unless you want to discover my vindictive side.”

Gisella turns and leaves with a huff.

Good. Let her go.

I look down at my phone screen as I walk down the hall, heading for one of the quieter dressing rooms. The things I want to say are rising to the surface in my mind now, and they excite me.

Things like:

I love you.

I want to be together.

I want a new life.

All I have to do is be brave enough to say it out loud. And trust Connor to be brave, too.

I can’t contain my grin as I head down the hall.

When cold fingers close around my arm and yank me sideways into a dark closet, I shriek. Fingers cover my lips and nose, making it hard to breathe.

A dark piece of fabric is pulled down over my head, and the world goes black. I try to scream again and feel the sharp, chilled tip of a knife press against my lower back.

“Shhhh, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I whimper.

“That’s right. I told you I’d come for you, so we can be together. If you weren’t such a filthy slut, running around with that meathead bodyguard, we could have done this long ago.”

My body goes hot and cold, and I start to sweat.

“Close your eyes now, Elly…”

He presses a cloth to my face, and all I can think of as my eyes roll back into my head is:

Please, no…