Page 62 of Don't Break My Heart
I can’t help myself, my feet move before I can stop them, marching me right across the street. I tap on his window, and he winds it down, a brow raised as if I’m interrupting him. “Are you spying on me?” I snip.
He crosses one arm over the other. “I’m just sitting in my car. I don’t think there is a law against that, is there?” he responds, not answering my question.
My eyes narrow as I scrutinize him. “There is if you followed me all the way from my apartment.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me closer to him so we are eye to eye. “I have followed you back and forth from your apartment all fucking week, trouble. Actually, everywhere you have been in your car. If this is the first time you have noticed, then we have more to worry about than the illegal activity I’ve been up to.”
I snatch my arm back, my heart kicking up a beat at his proximity. “Are you kidding me?” I spit back. I didn’t see him, not once, and I should have known he was there. I should have expected he couldn’t just let me be, and even if I didn’t know about it, he would be following me round.
“I think we have both proven our point.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“You got some space. And I just proved you have no idea how unsafe you are. If I have been following you around undetected all week.”
I take a step back from his car, not sure what to do. I miss him like crazy, but this is too much. All week I thought he was respecting my boundaries. I thought I had finally gotten through to him. And yeah, maybe I was scared a couple of times when I had that creeping feeling like someone was watching me or some shit. Understandable after what I have been through. But now, I know it was just him. “Fuck, Onyx, this is crazy. You are crazy, you know that, right? It’s like fucking stalker shit. I ask you not to be my bodyguard anymore and you do this.”
His eye twitches. It’s then I notice how exhausted he looks, dark circles under his eyes. “You need me to do my job, so you can do yours.”
“What are you talking about?” I huff out, so over this.
“There is a man who’s been hanging in the main bar all week. Charcoal suit, slick hair. You talked to him on Tuesday, but the rest of the week, he sat and drank alone.”
My lips purse together as I think on the dude he’s talking about. I can’t picture him, but my mind has been a little preoccupied this week. “How do you know he talked to me on Tuesday?”
He just smirks at me in that way that tells me he knows everything about me even now. It’s then I remember he said he had a new security system set up, and I would bet my left tit he has the damn thing playing back to his device.
“You have been watching everything I do all week,” I shriek.
“You asked for space, I gave it to you. I wasn’t going to let you end up dead, just so you could prove a point.”
I stare back at him, exasperated. He doesn’t even see anything wrong with this.
“I think you might like to know I had a friendly chat with him last night. Recovered this.” He hands me a cell phone.
I glance it over and see image after image of me working in the bar, getting into my car, unlocking my front door. Shakily I hand it back to him. “What is this?”
He shows me another page, a text message with my home address and the details of the club. “You think Valentine’s people won’t come for you because you’re in the States now. Just shows how naive you are, trouble.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Fuck. “I’m like this because of you,” I whisper, sickness coming over me.
“I know.” He opens his door and steps out of the car. “I’m sorry, Sloane. I’m trying to give you space, but I can’t let something happen to you. Unfortunately, you have had a target on your back since you were born. Having a bodyguard isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity.”
Fuck, I know he’s right, but there is no way I’m admitting to anything. I can handle this shit myself. “Where is this dude? I want to talk to him.”
“Yeah, can’t do that.”
“What?” My eyes search his, wondering what he’s going on about. “I’ll wait for him to show up tonight then.”
“He was sent by Valentine to kill you. He won’t get the chance.” His lips twitch up at the sides, making him look even more unhinged than I already know he is. And I know for that motherfucker, losing his phone last night was the least of his concerns.
“Come inside,” I offer, not sure what else to do with him. But having this conversation out here in the street can’t be the best idea.
“Huh?” he asks, surprised.
I sigh heavily knowing I’m probably going to regret this. But fuck, he’s a psycho because of me. And right now, I’m grateful he could see a threat that was right in front of my face when I had no idea. “You’re not sitting in your fucking car out front of my club all day and night,you look like you haven’t slept or eaten properly in a week. Come inside, you can take a nap on the couch while I work.”
He doesn’t question me again. Instead, he follows me inside and into my office like a lost little puppy dog. As soon as the door closes with us both inside, he drops down to his knees in front of me.
