Protection: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (17 page)

“
H
ello
?” I say, squinting at the alarm clock on the bedside table in my hotel room.

12:17
, it blares at me.
I must have fallen asleep
.

“It would be nice if one of you would answer your phones,” Karen grumbles.

“Huh?”

“You and Elly, pulling this little disappearing act? Really fucking unprofessional.”

“Karen, what the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Connor. I know Elly called and made up with you. What I want to know is how you got her out of the venue without any of us seeing it. And
why
you’d do that to me.”

I pause and look at my phone screen. Six missed calls from Karen, all in the last hour and a half.

I suck in a breath, my heart beginning to pound out of control.

“Karen, listen to me very carefully,” I tell her. “Elly is not with me. I haven’t heard from her since she fired me. So… five hours.”

Karen is quiet for a beat.

“Scout’s honor?” she asks.

“Yes, scout’s fucking honor.”

“So where is she?”

“I— are you sure
you’re
not putting
me
on?” I ask, getting out of bed.

“Really goddamned sure.”

“Fuck. Okay. Where are you?”

“I’m at the venue with Lawrence. The crew’s still breaking down. Bill’s on his way to you, looking for you and Elly.”

“Alright. I’ll search here first. Maybe she’s in her suite.”

“She’s not. Bill’s already been in her suite. He should be at your door any second now.”

“God
damn
it. Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to call the police and that useless fuck Elly calls a manager. I’m going to text Harv and find a meet point between us. Surely she’s just in the hotel bar or something, but we need to go into lockdown. I found a bunch of letters and shit from the stalker, Elly’s been hiding them.”

“10-4.”

Karen hangs up, all business. I pull on a shirt and jeans, lace up my boots. After a moment’s pause, I also put on my holster and my Colt M1911 handgun, plus a tazer and some pepper spray.

I hope like hell that I don’t have to use any of them
.

I pull on my leather jacket and step out into the hallway, and Bill’s just coming out of the elevators.

“Did you talk to Karen?” he asks.

“Yeah. Elly’s not here.”

“Fucking A. She’s not in the bar or the restaurant.”

“Jesus, I haven’t even tried to call her yet,” I say, exasperated with myself.

I call her. It goes straight to voicemail.

Hey, this is Elly, you know what to do at the beep.

“Shit.”

I try again and again, with the same result.

“Her phone is turned off,” I tell Bill. “Let’s just check with Brad and Gisella really quickly, okay?”

We take the stairs, heading down to the staff floor.

I knock on Gisella’s door first; no response.

When I knock on Brad’s door, he opens it with a startled expression. Behind him is a handsome Cuban guy, and both he and Brad are disheveled.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Brad blurts out.

“Shut the fuck up. Elly’s missing. Do you have keys to the staff rooms?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me get them.”

Brad closes the door and reappears a minute later in his robe and slippers, a handful of keycards at the ready.

“Give me Gisella’s first. You two start opening every door on the hall. Get people to help you as you do it. Go, go,” I say to Brad and Bill. “Leave no stone unturned.”

I head to Gisella’s room and unlock it, opening the door with a slam. When I flip on the lights, the place looks fucking ransacked. Mattress is askew, lamp’s on the floor, the whole nine.

“What the fuck,” I mutter.

I check her bathroom. There’s not a single personal item left in the room, not to mention a suitcase or anything substantial. Gisella is gone.

As I’m about to leave her room, I see a crumpled piece of paper in the trashcan. I stoop and grab it, smoothing it out.

It’s a bank deposit slip, made out for a deposit of $15,oo0 in cash.

That is not a good sign.

My mind races. Gisella and Elly haven’t been getting along well lately; the money could be for anything as simple as a tip to the right paparazzo, but it could also be a lot more sinister than that.

The important question is whether Gisella might have decided to sell Elly out to her stalker, give up her location or give him access to the arena, maybe?

How much of a pop star’s life does $15,000 buy?

I storm out of the room and find all of the staff in the hall, looking confused.

“Has anyone seen Elly?” I shout.

Heads shaking.

“Gisella? When’s the last time you saw her?” I ask them all.

“She ran out with her suitcase like half an hour ago. She was pissed, said Elly fired her,” one of the PR girls says.

“Shit. Okay.”

My phone buzzes, and it’s Karen.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Nothing here. You?”

“Nothing. Hold on for just a second.”

I use the internet search on my phone to look up a location between the hotel and the arena.

“Karen? Leave Lawrence there to deal with the police. I want every fucking nook and cranny searched, I want security tape pulled, everything he can do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to grab Alejandro and have him meet you at…” I look for the address. “Corner of State and 10
^th
. Leave in five.”

“Done.”

We disconnect, and I give Bill instructions to stay and search the property top to bottom. There’s still a chance that Elly’s here somewhere, hiding out on the roof or hanging in the gym alone.

My gut tells me that isn’t the case, though.

“Call me if you get anything,” I say, then I head for the stairs.

I race downstairs and stop dead, realizing I don’t have a car. I’m always with Elly or the crew, so I don’t keep my own wheels.

“Fuck it,” I say, trying to decide how to steal a car. Not exactly in my wheelhouse.

I spot the valet, and a lightbulb goes off.

“Hey, come here,” I say, calling him over. “You got any long-term rentals that won’t be missed for the night?”

“Oh, man, no. I can’t—” he starts, then stops when I pull a huge wad of cash from my wallet.

“My friend is in trouble. The car will come back here before dawn, untouched. Just tell me which key to take, I drop the money over here, and we never talk about it again.”

I’m not sure if it’s the cash or the fact that I’m standing over him, trying to make it clear that I will beat his ass, but he sidles back.

“I gotta go on my break. There’s a Mercedes G-Class hanging on number eight, they’re on a cruise. Nobody’s gonna be looking for it for a couple days.”

I nod and wait till he’s out of sight. I grab the keys and stuff the cash in his valet podium, then jog to the valet parking area. I click the key fob and find a black Range Rover-style Mercedes waiting for me.

Careful not to make myself conspicuous, I wait until I’m down the block before I floor it and speed toward where I’m supposed to meet Karen. As I drive, I open the GPS tracking app on my phone.

See Elly, my paranoia does pay off.

I turn it on, and after a few moments a red beacon starts to blink. It’s on the other side of the city, nowhere near the arena or the hotel, and it’s stationary.

Bingo
.

As I race to the meet point, a terrible thought occurs to me.

What if I’m about to walk in on some consensual hookup? What if Elly was just feeling rebellious and decided to sneak off and have a little fun?

And then,
It’s not like I wouldn’t deserve it. Ending things with her was a mistake. Elly’s the best damn thing to ever happen to me, and if she wants to be together…

I sigh.
The thing is, I did try to find another way. We were stuck between a rock and a fucking hard place. Maybe I could have been nicer about it, but how could we have gotten around all those obstacles?

Heart heavy, I pull up to where Karen is waiting in the SUV. I park the Mercedes and jump in the back seat, nodding to Alejandro.

“Head south,” I tell him.

“Where are we going?” Karen asks.

“I planted a GPS on Elly’s phone.”

Karen gives me a disgusted look, but doesn’t argue. Without my stepping over the boundaries, we wouldn’t know where Elly was.

At least this way she has a shot.

The thought turns my fucking stomach.

What if she dies before I—

Before I tell her I love her.

Bile burning bitter in my throat, I hand my phone over to Alejandro so he can navigate. I try to prepare myself for as many scenarios as possible, my SEALs training kicking in to let my brain ride shotgun.

We drive into a crumbling industrial part of town. Three and four story warehouses, abandoned factories, that kind of thing. As we head down street after street, I see almost no lights on in any of the buildings. This whole area is a fucking ghost town.

Just the kind of place I’d pick if I needed to plan a kidnapping.

I start to realize that I’m almost
hoping
that she’s been kidnapped, rather than finding her with some other guy.

That’s really fucked up.

Or worse, finding her already hurt, god. That would be the fucking end of me, I swear it.

“Mr. Gray?”

I look up at Alejandro as he pulls over.

“I think we’re here.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Wait…” he gives me a nervous glance. “I was Forças Armadas Brasileiras. Military in Brazil. I have a weapon in the car.”

I look at him, really look at him for a split second. My guts says that there’s little chance this serious, quiet driver is more than he seems. He’s doing this because it’s the right thing, to his thinking.

“All right, let’s go.”

We all get out of the car, Alejandro pulling a piece from under his seat. Karen and I both unholster our own weapons. I take my phone back from Alejandro check the GPS one last time.

“It’s this building, I’m pretty sure,” I say, pointing to the place on our right.

“There’s a light on the second floor, all the way to the right,” Karen says, nodding her head.

“Let’s move,” I say.

I lead the way around the opposite side of the building. I want to be out of earshot in case we have to enter forcefully. Luckily, all the doors on the first floor are unsecured, some hanging off their hinges.

We go inside and find the stairwell. I advance up to the second floor and crouch, trying to recon.

Shit. The place was some big factory floor at one point, and it’s all just open and empty. I can see something at the far corner, and I pop up to get a better look.

Fuck.

Elly’s dark hair is unmistakable, falling like a curtain around her. She’s slumped over in a cheap plastic chair, hands bound behind her back.

“It’s her,” I whisper. “She’s tied up, far right corner. Can’t see anyone else.”

I hear a sound. I wait a couple of beats and then pop up again, ever so slowly so as not to attract attention.

It’s him, of course. Greg Dahl. He pacing, agitated. He’s lecturing Elly, though she seems unresponsive. She’s facing away from me, so I can only see the back of her head. I can’t make out his words, but his tone is angry, belligerent.

And he’s got a knife, a wicked-looking blade, clutched in his left hand.

“Do you think you can find another way around, try to hit him from behind?” I ask Alejandro.

He nods and vanishes without another word.

I sneak up for another glance, checking out the layout.

“There’s a door on that far side,” I tell Karen. She looks and nods. “I am going to try to draw him off. Go around and see if you can get to Elly. Or shoot Dahl in the fucking head, whichever.”

Karen purses her lips and nods, vanishing back down the stairs. I force myself to wait for seventy beats, give them a little time to get into position. Not too much time, though. I want to distract Dahl so he doesn’t notice them approaching.

Until it’s far, far too late for him.

I stand up, holstering my piece. I walk out into the open, not trying to hide my presence. I look Dahl up and down. He’s wearing a ratty black coat and jeans, his dark hair long and stringy, his face pale and gaunt.

“What the fuck?” Dahl screeches.

He reaches out and shoves Elly’s head back. From her posture I can see that she’s not unconscious, but she doesn’t move much. Playing possum.

Smart
.

“Hey,” I call to him, raising my hands.

“You brought your fuck toy here? You are so disrespectful,” Dahl shouts at Elly. She flinches a little bit, which doesn’t stop him from slapping her face, hard.

She makes a soft noise, and I start to see red.

Keep your cool, soldier
, I growl to myself.

“Greg? It’s Greg, right?” I ask, drawing closer.

“Stop where you are, fucker,” he says, brandishing the knife.

“All right. I’m stopping.” I make a show of raising my hands higher. “I think you have a score to settle with me. Right, Greg? With me, not with Elly.”

“She
cheated
on me with
you
,” he howls, giving me a look of disgust.

“Nah, man. She wouldn’t do that to you,” I say, shaking my head.

Dahl pauses.
He really is delusional
, I realize.

“I saw you together. Saw the photos,” he hisses.

“I’m just her bodyguard, man. The rest is all the press, just lies. I swear it.”

He looks from me to Elly.

“Is that true, Elly?” He reaches out to stroke her face, but she doesn’t react. I wish like fuck that I could see her face.

“It’s true,” I say. “She wouldn’t do that, man. She’s not that kind of girl.”

“Really?” he says, giving me a smirk. “Then who was she fucking in those photos? Hmmm, Elly?”

He grips her face until she squirms. She answers, too soft for me to hear.

“No one!” he echoes. “No one, she says. I smell a fucking rat, Elly.”

“Yo, man. I just want to make sure she’s okay. She doesn’t look so good,” I tell him. “I know you don’t want her to be hurt. I’m Red Cross certified. Let me at least check her pulse.”