Page 22 of Protecting Mr. Fine

RYAN

Bears are naturally protective of the things they value, and they’re not known for giving up their territory or their honey without a fight. But if the reward is sweet enough, a bear might just learn to trust and share.

—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 10

What the fuck was wrong with me that I’d forgotten something as simple as pushing the button lock on Zane’s bedroom door?

“Freeze,” I barked before calling Lou to come help me deal with these fuckers. “Everyone set your phone camera down on the floor right now and step back.”

Because they were stupid kids who didn’t know better and I happened to have an effective commanding voice when I chose to use it, all four of them did as I said. I holstered my weapon and stepped forward to pick up the first phone. “Were you recording?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, simply went into the girl’s camera roll and deleted what I found that looked remotely like it had been takensince they’d come onto the Hendley property today. I narrowed my eyes at her before handing it back. “If you take any unauthorized photos or video of Zee Barlo, do you have any idea what his record label will do?”

“N-no, sir.”

“I suggest you don’t find out,” I warned, mostly because she’d find out they’d do absolutely nothing to her.

I repeated the activity with all of the other phones, secretly appreciating the fact that Farrah hadn’t taken any photos or video of her cousin. “Go downstairs and stop bothering Mr. Barlo. This is his private bedroom, for god’s sake. How would you feel if a man had just barged into your bedroom uninvited?” I lifted an eyebrow and made eye contact with each of them, hopefully causing them to realize what a violation their actions had been.

As Lou arrived, the poor girls were shaking with fear. They muttered apologies as they backed away from the door and scattered down the hallway. Lou put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “Did you have to make them piss themselves? Jesus. They’re just kids.”

“They’re kids who violated someone’s most personal space. Would you react that way if it had been teen boys barging in on a young woman who was in her underwear in bed?”

Lou’s cheeks flushed as she looked away. “Sorry, Zane. Didn’t realize you were in your skivvies. And obviously it’s a breach, Ryan, but I’m not sure it required pulling your weapon.”

I met her eyes long enough for her to realize her mistake. She shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to question your reaction. I know those decisions have to happen quickly, and you didn’t know who was barging in.”

“My finger never left the trigger guard,” I said. “And we had someone here earlier with an outstanding weapons charge, Lou.” I didn’t expound on the fact Zane’s extended family was full of questionable characters, and it was a constant challenge to keep an updated security profile on them because Lou knew all ofthat.

“You’re right. I was wrong. I’m sorry. Zane, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine, no worries.”

I glanced at him, wondering if Lou could hear the definite thread of “not fine” in his voice.

“Good,” she said. “Although, good luck getting any rest now.”

She closed us back in the bedroom, and I knew she would take a position outside the door for the rest of the time we spent in Zane’s room.

Zane threw himself back onto the pillow with a groan. “She’s right. My body’s full of adrenaline now.”

I stepped forward and clicked the button lock. “Sorry. That was my oversight.”

“Not your fault. Farrah knew better than to bring them up here.”

Zane got up and dragged on some clothing from his suitcase. While I hated that he felt uncomfortable being undressed—and, okay, slightly mourned the loss of all that smooth, tan skin on display—I had to smile when he turned around.

He’d chosen pajama bottoms and an oversized hoodie he’d bought years ago, the night he’d opened for Jude and the Saints. I’d overheard him telling an interviewer once that playing with Jude Marian had been one of the most surreal experiences of his life. Not many people knew that he’d since had Kenji scour the internet to buy up extras of the shirt—dozens of them, a lifetime supply—so he’d always be able to see his name appear in the same concert graphic as one of his idols.

When Zane’s first song had gone platinum, Zane’s brothers had tracked down the graphic designer, begged for a printable copy of the design to be made into a poster, and had gotten Jude Marian to sign it. The framed poster hung in his home studio in Malibu.

It was no wonder he’d pulled that shirt on now… and I loved that I knew him well enough to know this.

He flopped back down in the bed and curled his body around another pillow with his back to me. I wanted to move closer and rub his back, help him relax back into the drowsy state he’d been inbefore the girls had barged in, even turn on his stupid Bear Facts podcast to see if that would help him zone out.

Instead, I took a seat in the wooden desk chair and pulled out my phone. After a few minutes, Zane began to hum a tune under his breath the way he did when he was noodling through an idea for a song.

I could listen to him do that all day long. His voice was soothing and often soulful, depending on what he was working on. This melody was one I hadn’t heard before. It was light and playful… which surprised me, considering how much stress he’d been under lately.

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