Page 32 of The Brat Tamers

He brings his eyes to me and flashes me a small smile. “They’re fine. One guy is down, but the other is loose, so I need you to help me watch for any movement near the house.”

I look at the bank of monitors. It’s dusk, which seems to play havoc with images, so I’m not sure at first if I’m seeing what I think I’m actually seeing. “What is that?”

Porter presses some buttons on the keyboard and zeroes in on what is clearly a man with a rifle. He pushes me off his lap and takes my hand, a gun appearing in his other hand. “I need you to do something for me.”

He walks me back to the wall under the stairs where they had me tethered only a few hours ago. Kicking a section of the wall, a hidden panel pops open to reveal a crawl space. “I need you to get in there. Keep quiet and wait for me to come get you.”

“But—”

“No buts, Epi. Do as you are told.” He secures the door behind me and then I hear him talking on the phone.

“Yeah, he’s twenty feet from the front door, southwest corner.”

…

“I have her secured.”

…

“What the fuck do you mean, stand down? I’m going outside to pop this fucker.”

…

“You won’t make it in time.”

…

“Dammit, Lee. I don’t want this guy to get away. He was ballsy enough to approach the house, so he’s not going to stop. Let’s finish this.”

Let’s finish this.For some reason, the desperation in Porter’s voice coupled with his apology formarking me when I wasn’t his to markreally sticks with me. He’s desperate to get away from me. I wonder if they all feel that way?

I press my back against the wall of this small enclosure and take a deep breath, remembering all the times I would hide from my father and sister and the duplicitous mourners in the first few weeks after our mother died. I didn’t know how to deal with her loss and often sought solace in self-imposed exile.

Maybe, after this is over, I should go home and put myself into a timeout away from the public eye and my legion of fans. At the moment, I can’t imagine smiling on camera and shutting all of this away. Could five days away from my followers really have changed me so much that I no longer want to live on camera?

A deafening shot rings out, too loud to not be from inside the house, and I can’t stop myself from screaming and kicking open the door. I scramble out of my hiding space and jump to my feet, prepared to fight for my life and the lives of the men I’ve unwittingly fallen in love with.

Porter is standing with his gun drawn and trained on a man laying across the threshold. He growls as he kicks away his weapon. “Dammit, Epi, I said to wait for me to come get you.”

“Bitch.” The man on the ground moans.

I steal a glance at the man’s face as he writhes in pain on the front porch. “Brad?”

Porter is cussing under his breath. “Get behind me. Do you know this guy?”

“We went out a couple times, but then he ghosted me. Why are you trying to kill me?” I lurch forward to get in his face.

“You’re such a fucking cocktease. Nothing but a bratty bitch, and I can’t stand you.”

Then Porter does something he hasn’t done yet—he yells at me with a bark so deep, it actually cuts and burns. “Epi! Get into the back fucking bedroom until I can secure this guy!”

The sound of Porter angry makes me jump, and I can’t help but do exactly what he says as soon as he says it, scurrying backwards and then turning to run into the back bedroom. He continues to cuss, and I hear Brad howl in pain.

“Turn around and show me your hands or I’ll shoot you in the thigh, and I promise it will be high up and life-threatening.”

I hear the telltale sound of zip ties. Plastic sliding against the plastic lock, Brad groaning one more time and then one minute later, Porter is standing in the doorway, his mouth set in a disappointed grimace, his gray eyes fixed on me.

“Are you completely unable to do as you are told?”

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