Page 45 of South Beach Bodyguards

“No.” I had nothing. Nada.

“So tell me why it’s complicated.”

“She’s my stepsister,” I said. It wasn’t true technically but it was weird and it was avoidance. I didn’t want to tell a stranger the truth, which was that I was terrified I would hurt Isabel. Walk out on her like my mother had walked out on me.

The girl made a face. “Seriously? Awkward.”

“A little.” It was going to be even more so if Isabel let Kim know we had been naked together. She hadn’t seemed like she was going to keep it a big secret, which she should. Nobody needed to know our damn business.

“What’s your name?” I asked the girl, because it seemed like she was going to stick around for a while and I didn’t like talking to someone without at least acknowledging they had a name.

She stuck her name out. “Alexandra. Nice to meet you.”

“Ryan.” I shook her hand.

“I would have thought you were like a Vlad or something. Ivan.”

“Because I’ve never heard that before.” I rolled my eyes at her, but I wasn’t really annoyed. She was keeping me from going into full-on brooding. “So what do you do, Alexandra, besides pry into strange dude’s business at the bar?”

“That’s it.” She gave me a grin. “You?”

“I glare at people.” My phone buzzed in my hand. It was an alert from work. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” It was the code to call in immediately. I dialed the office.

Mickey answered. “Security camera at the house in the Gables showed an intruder.” He paused. “And Isabel entering the house about five minutes after he did.”

My blood chilled and I froze. “What?” I patted my pocket for my keys. I needed to get to my car. “Are the police en route? When was it?”

“I called the cops. It was twenty minutes ago. We’re only doing random sweeps. It’s a miracle the staff even saw it. Usually that shit gets looked at the next day, not in real time. I’m all the way in Sunny Isles, it will take me forty minutes to get there but I’m on my way with Kim. She’s freaking out. Where are you at?”

“Ocean Drive.” I waved to Alexandra and took off jogging, phone still at my ear. “The traffic here sucks dicks though, as you know, but the causeway should be clear. I’ll be there in twenty.”

For a second I didn’t even remember where I had parked my car. I was frantic at the thought of someone hurting Isabel. What the fuck was she doing at the house? I knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t stupid. Isabel was smart and Isabel knew people. She knew I wasn’t coming back and she didn’t want to stay in the hotel alone. In the bed we’d had sex in.

I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.

She was a good person. The best. The kind who deserved only happiness and love. Not to be dragged down by me or endangered by my father. All I could think was that I needed to make sure she was safe, then keep her safe. I wanted to grab her and shield her from everything about the world that sucked ass, and wrap my arms around her.

It kind of felt like if I could love somebody, this was it.

I ran faster.

thirteen

I was so shocked, I didn’t even struggle when the hand clamped over my mouth. But then panic set in and I jerked back and forth in the dark. I couldn’t see anything and I was terrified. I tried to scream again but he pressed harder, so no air could move in and out of my lungs. His flesh tasted like sour sweat and I knew it was a man because I could hear his breathing, sense his body, smell his cologne.

“Don’t say a fucking word, do you understand me?”

The voice was low, manic, but familiar. I couldn’t place it. I couldn’t speak so I just nodded rapidly so that he would understand I wouldn’t challenge him or fight. I fingered my purse but there was no way to fish my phone out of it without him knowing what I was doing. So I concentrated on breathing through my nose and waited for him to tell me what the hell was going on.

Suddenly a light came from his side. His phone flashlight. I blinked, the sudden spotlight blinding me momentarily. Then the under glow exposed his face to me and I realized that of all freaking people in the world, it was Juan. The guy I’d gone on three dates with, who had been pushy and insisted I bring him home with me. The guy who sent me the questionable dick pic, which I now knew for sure was just a so-so penis.

Stunned, I jerked back, less afraid. His hand eased up and I was able to speak around his fingers. “Juan? What are you doing?”

I realized then that I shouldn’t actually be reassured. His eyes were wide, the glassy vacant stare of an addict at the height of his high. I very carefully tried to ease myself back, wanting my face away from his. Wanting space between our bodies, and his grip on my arm to loosen.

“Where’s the gun?” he asked. “I know Harris left it here. Where the fuck is it?”

I tried to back up, fear rising, compressing my chest. His hand fell away from my mouth. “What are you talking about? What gun? I don’t know anything about it. Mickey doesn’t live here anymore. He and my mom got divorced.” I was talking too much, I knew it, but I wanted him to understand I wasn’t lying. I didn’t know anything.

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