Page 28 of Protector

“It didn’t feel good.”

Brooks steps closer, hovers over me with his brows knitted. “I know it’s scary, but if it’s possible that you do know this guy, we just got a step closer. I’m sorry you have to go through this, but maybe once you tune into that familiar feeling, you’ll remember something. If we can figure out who he is, it will give us the upper hand.”

“You’re right, Iamscared. I don’t ever want to see this guy, but at the same time…I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to someone I care about.” Obviously, I’m talking about my family, my friends, but looking into Brooks’s eyes, what I see reflecting back at me, we both know I mean him as well.

“I won’t let that happen, Shay,” he says, his voice low and deep. “I promise.”

* * *

With “Uncle Todd” waiting in the lobby, I sit next to my mother and try to stay focused on the conversation between her and the editor of the latest fashion magazine I’ll be featured in. I was so excited about the shots from the latest photo shoot, but I barely spare them a glance now. Brooks was right; I can’t let this guy get to me. I have to press on and do what I need to do. If I’m being honest, it’s not just the call, hearing his voice, what he did to my website, that has me distracted. It’s also the moment Brooks took me into his arms. Feeling so safe. Not just safe…something more. Of course, I realize I’m probably falling into some sort of irrational transference scenario, but even if Brooks wasn’t protecting me, and we’d met under different circumstances, I’d be attracted to him. What woman wouldn’t?

And even though things have been hectic and scary, I’ve enjoyed his company, gotten used to having him by my side. Right now, he’s just down the hall, but something feels off not having him with me. I can see how some people might be put off by his initial gruffness, but truly, it just makes me laugh. I can see right through it.

I refocus on the present and realize my mother’s monologue about my upcoming reality show is still going on, so neither of these women noticed my attention fading.

Jane’s assistant buzzes in, and she speaks to him briefly, his gritty voice over the speaker causing déjà vu and sending chills over my arms as I’m thrown back to that call from the crazy person who thinks he’s my knight. And, what the hell is that about anyway?

Cody alerts Jane of someone’s early arrival, and she tells him to give her a few more minutes so we can wrap up our business with her. But all I can think about now is that voice, those words:I’m your knight. He seemed so sure about himself. I know he’s delusional, but could there be some reason for all this?

Then I remember what that lunatic did to my website. If he cut out all the men in my photos, I can’t help but think about the safety of everyone in my life right now. It seems pretty clear that most everyone knows Cal is my best friend—and that he’s gay—but looking at some of the pictures of him and me, I can see there being some misinterpretation. I blink and swallow, push back the terror that comes with thinking anything could happen to him.

I feel a hand on my arm and realize I’ve missed something.

“Shay? What do you think?“

Mom shoots me a disapproving look, and I refocus, attempting to replay the conversation in my head but come up empty. “About what?“

She points to a shot of me kneeling down, one hand on the floor, the other at my head. “Jane agrees with me that this is the money shot. What do you think?”

This is the part where she wants to assure her position as my manager is crucial, so I nod. “Yes, I love it.” Jane says she plans to have one of her editors contact me about an exclusive article with Taylor and me about the new show, and of course, she wants me to do the leg work to get Tay on board. Adele tells her it won’t be a problem, and we say our goodbyes. At this point I don’t care and just want to get out of there.

As soon as we reach the lobby, Brooks stands, and I breathe a sigh of relief the moment I look into his eyes. I feel silly now for doing exactly the opposite of what I told Brooks I’d do—not let this guy get to me.

In the car we’re all quiet. Mom is driving and Brooks is in the back seat. When he gets a call, I strain to listen over the music my mother has on. It’s nosy, I know, but it’s the first time I’ve heard him speaking to someone else. I can tell it’s a woman, someone he’s close to. I hear the name “Jade” and wonder who she is. Could she be a colleague? But something in the way he speaks tells me it’s more familiar than that. He tells her he needs to call her back and then ends with “me too” and instantly, something in my chest squeezes. I feel like a ridiculous child with a school-girl crush. He could be married for all I know… No, that doesn’t seem right when I really think about it.

I stay sitting forward, quiet the whole ride home. For some reason he doesn’t speak either. Maybe he’s thinking about the woman who called. Watching out the window, I’m disappointed in myself for faltering during that meeting, for acting like Brooks is anything more than a paid employee. I vow to get back to myself, to go full force on all my plans, despite the lunatic who may or may not want to hurt me. I need to get back to my house too. Getting some physical distance from my mother will make it easier to take more control over my career as well. I’ve got plans and nothing and no one’s going to get in the way of them.

CHAPTERTEN

Brooks

Shay comes around the corner, wearing what looks to be a sexy alien Halloween costume. How this qualifies as lingerie is beyond me, but all I care about is the delighted expression on her face.

“Can you believe this one?” She giggles, and it’s the first time I’ve heard that sound since that son of a bitch called her. That was almost a week ago. Since then, Shay has been different. Mostly different with me, so I have a feeling it’s not just about our predator. It’s possible I may have done something, but I haven’t asked, and she hasn’t shared.

Her being a little more distant, more professional with me has made it easier for me to remember why I’m here. It has put me—and likely her—at ease when we’re together, which is most of the time. We seem to be settling into a routine where we feel more like co-workers, maybe even friends.

“I don’t even know what to say about that.” I point over her shoulder where there’s a black wiry thing that shoots out and spirals around like a light burst design. “You can poke an eye out with that.”

She glances over her shoulder, then turns back to me. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re almost done here.”

This fitting, which is for some lingerie fashion show she’s done for the last couple years in Hollywood, is like nothing I’ve seen before. Models coming and going, a flurry of activity, photographers snapping pics of the outfits. When we first got here, I perched on a stool, off to the side of the thick of things. But a few looks I got, probably wondering what the pervy uncle is doing at a lingerie fitting, had me slinking back behind one of the partitions.

“Sounds good,” I say casually.

“Also…” She hesitates, her smile slipping. “I never told you, but this afternoon, when we do the promo shots for the reality show…Rio will be there.”

My jaw clenches before I can stop it. “Why? What does he have to do with this?”

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