You're Not Broken (25 page)

I nodded, although still reluctant to let her go. It felt so good to feel her softness pressed against me. It felt right.

“And I should do a full home inspection so I can get familiar with the layout,” I said.

We both clung to each other for another beat before breaking apart, a lingering sense of something more hanging between us.

Chapter Ten
Jessa

              I watched as Rowan disappeared towards the kitchen. I heard the back garden door open and close. He probably was starting outside, making sure the grounds were secure and closed.

              I stood rooted to the floor, still feeling the warmth of his arm around my back. God, what was going on? What was it about this man that made my body respond so intimately and instantly?

              I hardly knew anything about Rowan Matthews. He was still an enigma. I could tell he was not one to harp on about himself. But there was still much I could pick up on from just his presence.

              His hard body was not just for show. He knew how to use it. But he was not a violent man. I could tell. He did not blindly shove through crowds like most of the security team did when I was out and about. Instead, he weaved and blocked back people just simply by his sheer size. He only pushed when they were too unruly to control.

              And he was a direct man. He never minced words. I still remembered with a warm glow his frankness at the hotel when I had realized he would be staying with me in the suite.

              And just now, as he held me in my own home, I could feel his directness and yet there was no lechery. He didn’t leer at the prospect of staying in the home of famous Jessa Blair. No, he made it clear he was here to protect me.

              But…was it just a job?

              I felt like it was more. There was more to the relationship we were now developing. He was more than just some meathead with muscles. He listened. He cared.

              I remembered how he had listened to me on the car ride over to lunch with David Francetti. His quiet belief in me had felt more gratifying than the best movie review I could ever get.

              And then on the ride home, when he had looked at me with that look of surprised admiration as he called me, “fucking brave.” His words suddenly made me feel like I had a champion rooting for me on my side. It felt so good it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

              But nothing more had happened then a close hold or a hand brushing against a cheek. Nothing more to indicate that I was more than a job. Was it one sided? Was it just me that felt the deep stirrings of something molten and fiery between us?

              I shook my head. Whatever the case was, I needed to first find my camera. I needed to get started on the audition reel right away.

              I went into my office and rummaged through some boxes until I pulled out a digital camera I had bought a year ago on a whim but had never used afterwards. There had been a couple leaks a few months after the purchase of several celebrities having their computers hacked and their personal photos leaked.

              Some had been tame vacation photos while others had racy nude photos shot in their bathrooms.

              I had only intended to take the camera with me when I went to film so I could capture the memories of each set but I became too wary after the hack. It was just too easy to lose what little hold on privacy I had and I didn’t want to risk it.

              I took the camera and the tripod that came with it out into the living room where there was better light. I tucked the script under my arm. It was still a work in progress and I knew there would be edits made along the way but I had a hunch that the chunk of the script I would read from would stay in no matter what. It was just too good.

              I arranged the camera and checked the lighting. I wanted to film as soon as I got home because Spring spends most of the film on the road and in very compromising places. She is haggard and doesn’t often look good or put together.

              After several weeks on the road, I always had bags under my eyes and my cheeks were always a little hollow since I never have time to eat. I felt that this was my chance to best capture the look of Spring. I didn’t want to lose my tired face and film the audition looking well rested and healthy.

              I opened the script and reread the section I was going to be doing. I wanted to make sure I captured the mood just right. As I read, I heard the back garden door open and close again. Heavy footsteps echoed down towards the back bedrooms.

              Rowan was certainly doing a thorough job.

              I paused, mid page turn. What was it going to be like, living with Rowan Matthews?

              I blushed a little to think about it. Luckily my house was large enough that we wouldn’t be on top of each other but it wasn’t so large that we would never run into each other.

              I had purposely stayed away from the typical huge Hollywood mansions. I wanted something more intimate and homey. I wanted to feel comforted when I came home after a long trip away.

              But now I realized that meant Rowan and I would be seeing quite a lot of each other. And quite often since I had a nice two week break coming up. Immediately my mind jumped to the image of Rowan shirtless. I imagined his hard, broad chest pressed close against mine. I imagined his hands roving over my naked body, his fingers confidently exploring my body in its most intimate places.

              Perhaps his fingers would reach down below to her hidden wetness, sliding firmly over her swollen pussy….

              I immediately shook my head and coughed.
My god, Jessa
, I chastised myself.
You need to watch a porno and take a cold shower.

              But for now, I had to focus.

              Trying my best to clear my mind of any more naughty thoughts, I focused on the script. After I felt I had a really solid handle on my lines, I turned on the camera and began recording.

              I did two takes before I replayed it and watched my performance. They were good but they weren’t great. I flipped back to an early moment in the script to build up the emotional tension of the character.

              I started the camera again and did several more takes. I did some crying, I did some angry, and I did some where I was a little drunk. Spring hopped around in bars and perhaps she would be a little tipsy for the scene. It made sense for the character and I felt it seemed more real for her.

              I filmed and filmed till I about lost my voice. When I had finally finished my last take and was about to play back the scene, Rowan stepped into the living room.

              I looked up. “Finished with the surveillance?” I asked. But I noticed a grimness in his expression. A line was etched between his brow as if he had not liked what he had found. Did my house seem too open? I knew it was a difficult house to secure but I refused to sell a house just because a stalker here and there tried to threaten me.

              “What’s wrong?” I asked, lowering the camera onto my lap.

              Rowan held up a white envelope. On the front was scribbled in sprawling, illegible black letters, “Jessa.”

              I felt a cold panic wash down my spine. I had seen that handwriting before. I had in fact seen it exactly six times before. It was from the stalker.

              Rowan slowly walked over and handed the note to me. It was open. He had clearly already read it.

              I opened the envelope and pulled out the carefully folded note. In the same illegible script, I was able to read the latest threat.

             
My Jessa,

              It’s hell being away from you. You must feel the emptiness too when we are not together. It’s hard. There are so many that try to separate us because they do not understand us. They cannot possibly fathom what grows between us.

              But do not worry.

              I will soon join us.

              There is an ultimate oneness between us.

              And we will reach it together.

              My Jessa.

              I promise.

              I lowered the letter, feeling my hand shake a little as I did. It had been a while since I had gotten a letter from this stalker and I had almost forgotten his dark presence on the peripherals of my life. But seeing the familiar writing, the odd and creepy threats, I felt that cold panic wash through me again.

              But I tried to pull myself together. After all, even if this was the most a stalker had ever written me, how many other stalkers had I had to deal with over the years? Dozens! What made this one so different anyway? I tried to toughen up my quivering hands.

              “Funny,” I said, trying to make sure my voice sounded offhand and nonchalant, more for my sake than anyone else’s. I had to believe that this was nothing more than a typical stalker’s empty words. “I hadn’t seen a note pinned on the gate.”

              This stalker had once pinned a note on the front gate to my house. Although it had been frightening, that hadn’t been such an amazing feat of stalking. After all, I lived in an area where tourist buses drove by all the time, pointing out various homes of celebrities. My home was literally on a map that anyone in Hollywood could get for free. It was no great secret.

              Still, I hadn’t seen a note this time. But then again, I hadn’t been looking. I had almost forgotten about this stalker and hadn’t been as on guard.

              “It wasn’t on the gate,” Rowan said quietly. I could still see the lines etched into his face. It was clear he was concerned. There was a mixture of ready protectiveness and a bit of anger that darkened his expression.

              “Oh?” I said, trying to quiet the fluttering nerves of my stomach. “Then where was it?”

              “In your bedroom,” he said. “On your pillow.”

Chapter Eleven
Rowan

              I saw the quiver that ran through her. The large camera sat forgotten in her lap. The letter hung limply in her hands.

              She looked lost. I could see her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to muster her strength and sense around her. Seeing her rally so hard made my chest ache. No one should live in such constant threat and terror, especially in their own home. But Jessa, in particular, shouldn’t have to.

              It was irrational to give her such special feelings but I couldn’t help it. She shouldn’t always have to be so strong. Every day, she worked to wear a mask in front of countless people. She had to smile when she felt like frowning, laugh when she felt like crying. For someone so small, a lot of weight was riding on her slim shoulders. And I didn’t want fear to be another burden.

              Suddenly, she looked up at me. “Was there any…?” She didn’t finish the sentence, as if afraid saying the words would make it true but I knew what she was asking.

              “No,” I said. “No signs of forced entry. No signs of any entry actually. I looked over the windows and doors and they look intact and unmolested.” It was a fucking mystery, actually. This stalker knew his shit. He wasn’t just some Joe Schmoe. He was somebody who had skill.

              The camera started slipping from Jessa’s lap, making her start and catch it just in time. That seemed to wake her up out of her reverie. She gave her head a little shake, sending a few tendrils of caramel colored hair across her forehead.

              “Err…okay well, I’m assuming you checked the rest of the house,” she said. “No crazy people hiding in the closets or anything right?”

              “No,” I said, watching as she gathered her courage up around her.

              She nodded. “Fine then. I’m going to go into the office so I can upload what I’ve recorded and review it.” She stood up, camera in one hand, note in the other.

              But before she could walk away, I grabbed her forearm, stopping her. She looked up, her wide eyes questioning.

              “The note,” I said. “I’ll need it so I can give it to the FBI agents.”

              “Ah,” she said, understanding. She looked down at the note, as if regarding a bomb, before handing it over. She paused for a bit before giving me a quick smile. “Good work, Bodyguard Rowan. I guess you’ll come in handy after all.”

              And then she was gone, heading towards her office.

              I watched her go down the wide hallway, her slim body disappearing around the corner.

              I held the note in my hand, tempted to crumble it before burning it. But I did neither. Instead, I pulled out my cell phone and called Agent Harrison.

              “Any signs of forced entry?” the agent asked.

              “Not that I could find,” I replied. “Everything is solid. It’s almost like he walked right in the front door.”

              There was silence on the other end. I could tell the agent was carefully thinking over the case.

              “I’m assuming you’ve checked all of Jessa’s people,” I said. “The security staff, her hair and make up people, her managers.”

              “Of course,” Agent Harrison said in a slightly offended tone. “They’re all clean for the most part. Some can get gossipy with the tabloids but nothing more than what could be expected from a Hollywood entourage.”

              I opened the note and read it again.

             
I will soon join us.

              There is an ultimate oneness between us.

              And we will reach it together.

              Did the stalker mean that he would come and kidnap her? “An ultimate oneness between us” sounded like something more than just a mere kidnapping. It sounded threatening yet odd and mysterious. Something was wrong about it but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

              “Okay, we’ll send an agent over tomorrow to pick up the note and do another once-over on the place. Keep a tight perimeter, Matthews. We can double the security tomorrow.”

              I hung up the phone and immediately headed towards the back garden door. I was going to do another sweep to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. As I passed by the arched ivies and tall palm trees, I felt a true a grip of threat grab at my heart.

              Till the moment I found the note, I hadn’t taken the stalker quite seriously. True, Jessa Blair received an inordinate amount of threats because of her supreme popularity but what celebrity
didn’t
receive threats? Even the little wannabe starlet that I had guarded before had received a handful of threatening notes. And she had
loved
it. She had felt it had validated how important she was.

              It had been impressive to see an FBI team on Jessa’s case. Apparently the FBI had been called a few times before on some other threats that had crossed the line from just crazed to something more serious. But even still, I had figured, all that had happened were just notes. This stalker just wanted to get a rise out of her.

              But once I had entered her bedroom, large but still quite cozy, and had seen the white envelope so lovingly placed on her pillows, I had realized this stalker was more than just some attention-hungry fan.

              He wanted Jessa Blair.

              And he wanted to make sure she knew it.

              He had purposely broken nothing to enter the house and leave the note in one of her most intimate spaces in her most private sanctuary. It was a message.
I know where you live and I know how to get inside. No place is safe.

              But there was no way to tell when he had left that note for her. She had been away from the house for several weeks now. The stalker might not know that Jessa wasn’t alone now.

              She had me.

              As soon as I had picked up the envelope and opened the note, my entire body had coiled into readiness. I could feel the muscles of my back ripple and twitch for action. I could feel the tightness of my legs and chest just like I used to feel during a long ride.

              I couldn’t name it yet. It was so early. It was so sudden. And it was probably one sided. But I cared about Jessa. I cared deeply.

              And seeing such a threat come so close to someone I cared about shook me. I needed to take this whole situation with a greater level of seriousness. This stalker clearly had no intention of stopping. But I too had no intention of stopping either.

              No one would harm Jessa. I would make sure of it.

              As I continued my check around the perimeter of her backyard, I crossed the large windows of Jessa’s office. Instinctively, I took a step back so that I was out of her eye line.

              She sat facing her large computer. I could see the video playing back on the screen. But Jessa wasn’t paying attention as to which take was the best. She had her chin on her palm as her eyes stared out into the distance.

              The late afternoon sun fell softly on her face, highlighting her sculpted cheeks and her straight nose. But it also showed the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the slight hollowness of her features. She was tired.

              And scared.

              I could see the slight furrow between her brows as her eyes focused on something faraway as her mind turned and turned. The woman was constantly thinking.

              Her long hair was loose and running wild down her back. There was something soft and ephemeral about her as she sat quietly in the waning light. It felt like she would disappear if I were to try and touch her.

              And she would.
This
Jessa—the one scared and quiet—would disappear. She would cover up with her reliable mask of bravado and wit and hide that delicate part of herself.

              It was odd.

              She had a whole team around her. She had publicists, managers, stylists, assistants—the whole shebang—and yet, she seemed quite alone. Shouldn’t she be able to lean on those people during such a time like this?

              I almost got angry thinking about Marsha. She had been the one stuck to Jessa like white on rice during the press junket since she was constantly touching her up and fixing whatever make up disaster needed fixing. Wasn’t Marsha worried about Jessa’s safety? Why wasn’t she calling constantly or offering to stay over?

              All these people had careers because of Jessa. Studios made millions off of her image and yet nobody was here when a threat invaded her most intimate spaces. No one was here to reassure her.

              Except me.

              I imagined what it would’ve been like if I had not been here. I imagined Jessa entering her bedroom and finding that note on her own. I imagined her shuddering fear and her brave attempts at trying to calm herself down, all in the empty quietness of her home.

              My fingers tightened into fists as I swore to keep her safe. Perhaps nothing more would come of my heart’s feelings towards her but that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be here to protect her. Regardless of how she felt for me, I knew that I was her bodyguard. I would stay by her side and make sure that she would not have moments of lonely fear.

              I remembered what it felt like after I had left the Black Wings MC. That sense of loss, the isolation, the quiet fear.

              I looked up at the window again.

              Jessa seemed to shake out of her reverie. I could see her almost mentally chastising herself for letting her fears get the better of her. Giving herself a good shake, she turned towards the screen where she began to fiddle with the footage, looking for the best take.

              I grinned. She was brave at home and brave at work. Despite the rejection, she still bravely fought on, wanting to prove to herself and to the director that she was more than what was seen on the screen.

              No, she would not be alone. She would not have to be afraid.

              I would stay. I would be by her side.