Page 107 of Unguarded

They erupt with flashes and more questions, all screaming over each other now. I look up over their heads, seeing a man in a black tux with slicked-back brown hair glaring daggers at me from behind the crowd. As soon as we make eye contact, he smirks, lifting a hand in a friendly wave. Anger washes over me, heating my skin. I push through the crowd, using my size and the skills I learned on Monroe’s tour when fans got too excited. I make it easily enough though, and to my surprise, Zade meets me halfway.

He leans forward to whisper in my ear, “Don’t sweat it, man; you can have her for a little while. I’ve always been good at sharing. By the way, thanks for taking care of that little problem for me. I’m just assuming I have you to thank for the radio silence, considering how serious you’ve taken this whole bodyguard thing. He was beginning to get … difficult. My reputation was on the line for a while, but now, my worries are over. You’re not a bad contact to have around for those of us who prefer to keep our hands clean when things get sticky.”

I pull back, studying his face as he smiles and laughs loudly, clearly attempting to put on the show for the audience.

“If I need you, you’ll get a call. I payverywell.” He winks at me, turning to stride into the venue like he’s weightless.

My muscles are screaming with tension. The urge to chase him down and tear his throat out right here nearly overtakes me. The fantasy of watching his blood blend into the carpet infiltrates my thoughts. The paps are a buzz of white noise around me as I study his retreating form, frozen in place.

He was the one informing Tony Ziggler of her whereabouts. Zade was the one behind it all. And when I killed the man, it freed him of whatever obligations Zade had toward him.

Rage boils inside me, threatening to spill over. I stalk toward the entrance to the venue, blindly following him. The paps make desperate attempts to get my attention, but I easily evade them. They give up at the entrance, where they’re clearly not allowed through.

Security lets me through, either from Katherine’s instructions or because they recognize me. Zade grabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before he turns down a hallway.

I follow him at a distance, knowing I should hold back and find Monroe. The urge to squeeze more information out of him propels meforward.

If he was willing to sell her out before, he could do it again.

He pushes open the door to the men’s room. I wait outside of it for a minute, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

I will not take it too far. All he needs is a warning.

A man exits the restroom, and I catch the door before it fully closes. I step inside, letting go of the door as I look around. The restroom has an attendant handing out paper towels and breath mints near a long countertop and gilded mirrors lining the wall. The walls are a dark maroon color. Black and white tiles cover the floor, and the sink looks like a slab of marble with little bowls hollowed out of it.

Zade is standing at the urinal. The stall doors are all cracked open.

I turn to the attendant. Reaching into my pocket, I extract my wallet and slide out two hundred-dollar bills. I hand it to the man. “Give us a minute.”

He gladly accepts the generous tip and exits the room. I take his chair and use it to prop it up under the door handle. I pop my knuckles, planting my boots in a wide stance.

“I think you left out some details I need to get from you.”

Zade startles, jumping up and turning to face me. He hurriedly zips up his pants. “Man, you scared the hell out of me.” He laughs nervously, eyes shifting around the restroom.

“Don’t waste time looking for help. Look at me. No one’s coming to help you.” My words ring out with finality.

His face pales, but the actor in him takes over. A practiced smile dances over his lips. I slowly start to remove my jacket so I don’t ruin it with bloodstains and set it on the counter.

“I’m all ears, Redford.”

“Why did you help Tony Ziggler get close to Monroe?” Ispeak slowly so I don’t confuse him. “What was in it for you?”

He feigns confusion like the actor he is. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was the security guard. I knew it was someone on the tour, but I couldn’t figure out who,” I say casually. “The one in Seoul. I had a buddy hack his phone records. Didn’t find anything, which means he used a burner. It took some digging, but he finally found the wire transaction from that night. Someone paid him to abandon his post, to let the fans down that hallway. My bet is that Ziggler was in her dressing room, just waiting for someone to drop her back off there until the crowd was handled. You were banking on me leaving her in there alone. When I found out you were fucking Ember, and she paid Kacie for the photo of Monroe and I at the ranch through her sister’s email, it all clicked. Same account sent the wire to Kacie.”

I smile at him as the color drains from his face.

“Ember knew where Monroe was every second of that tour. She had the hotel room numbers, planned her every move. At first, I didn’t think it would be possible for her to orchestrate it all, with the dead bird and the roses, but with help, with someone else pulling those strings, it makes sense. But it doesn’t answer the question ofwhy.”

He shrugs, regaining composure as his eyes shift to the door I blocked off. His lips curve in a nervous smile. “He had something on me. And she was an easy lay, desperate really, to fuck me. It was blackmail, plain and simple. Monroe is fine so what’s the problem? Look, I have to present an awardout there.”

He straightens his coat, taking a step toward the door. I stand in his way, refusing to move a muscle, even as he tries to get to the door.

“How did you get Ember to do it? Just because you fucked her?”

He laughs, running a hand over his hair. “She was just an easy target, a girl who’s jealous of her friend and despises living in her shadow. Piece of cake. You think she wants to answer phones for the rest of her life, when she has the chance to be with someone as famous as me and eventually make her way up to the stage?” He laughs, making the mistake of clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You want ’em both? Man, go for it. I get so much pussy that I’m swimming in it.”

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