Page 77 of Play Book

Stupid whore.

I’ll be watching.

Will you be letting them paint you naked?

I’d sign up for that.

Someday, I’m going to see you naked.

And I’m really looking forward to it.

Bile fills my throat, and I clap a hand over my mouth.

What the hell is happening?

I’ve gotten hate mail before. It comes with the territory when you’re famous. But this feels personal. Like someone really is watching. And that’s terrifying.

I immediately forward the email to Rage, and he calls me a minute later.

“When did you get this?” he demands.

“I don’t know when it was sent, but I just opened my email. I’m at the gallery.”

“All right. I’m coming down there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I want to make sure he knows you’re not alone.”

“You think he’s actually watching?” Fear coils through my gut, and I look around, as if I might spot him.

“I don’t know, but let’s not chance it.” He disconnects, and I’m suddenly chilled.

I want to call Canyon, but he has enough on his plate. Besides, I have Rage, and while I don’t have romantic feelings for him, he makes me feel safe. I just wish he could be here twenty-four-seven. Unfortunately, he’s Chains’ right-hand man at the security company, so he’s in charge of a lot more than just my account.

Stevie comes in a little while later, startling me, and she wiggles a box from Trejo’s Coffee & Donuts.

“What did you do?” I demand, laughing as she puts the box and two steaming cups of coffee on the counter. The donuts from the well-known actor’s shop are incredible, but also incredibly fattening. I almost never indulge but today feels like the kind of day where I might need to.

“We deserve a treat,” she replies, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. Then she pauses, cocking her head. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

I nod my head in the direction of the computer, and she leans over to read it.

“Oh, fuck.” She looks at me. “You need to call Rage.”

“Already done.” The burly bodyguard comes walking in through the back. “And you guys need to keep the back door locked during the day.”

“It’s my fault,” Stevie says. “I just came in and my hands were full. What’s going on?”

“Rage.” I reach out to touch his arm. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course.” He squeezes my hand and looks around. “Everything quiet today?”

“Thankfully. But I’m a nervous wreck.”

“You don’t need to be. I’ll be working from here today if I can commandeer somewhere to put my laptop.”

“Absolutely.” I motion to the table by the counter. “Make yourself at home.”

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