Page 72 of Vicious Intentions

“You don’t understand. I’ve grown so fond of you. More than I thought.”

I laughed bitterly. “You’re exactly right. I don’t understand in the least why everyone needs to get in my business. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. Talk.”

“They swore me to secrecy.”

“Who? My parents?”

All Jillian could do was nod.

Fuck this. Now, I was angry. I took a deep breath, raking my hand through my hair. “Are they paying you to watch out for me?”

“Oh, honey. I love being with you.”

A headache formed behind my eyes. “Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don’t mean that.”

No. Yes. Maybe. At this point, I wasn’t certain of anything. “Who else is on my parents’ payroll?”

“No one else that I know of. They’re protective of you. Nothing more.”

Protective wasn’t the word.

“Fine,” I hissed between clenched teeth. “Do you tell them all my dirty little secrets? Do you mention every date I’ve been on or how many times you suspect I’ve had sex?”

“No! Of course not. I never tell your father anything about your personal life. They just want to make certain you’re safe.”

Uh-huh. They knew I wouldn’t tolerate a permanent bodyguard. I shook my head. “Very clever. Leave me alone for a few days, Jillian. I need to figure out what I’m going to do.” And what terrible secret lingered in the shadows.

“I didn’t mean to deceive you, Rose. Please know that I’ve enjoyed these last few years getting to know you. You’re like the daughter I never had.”

There was nothing left to say at this point, or if I did, the words wouldn’t be considered very nice. “Just go. Now.”

Jillian had been the rock I’d been able to lean on, hearing me cry over issues, calming me down when I’d wanted to strangle one or all of the other band members. She’d helped me choose outfits and purchase sparkly dresses. She’d remembered my birthday every year.

An ache had already formed in my heart, and as I watched her walk out the door, I was determined to get to the bottom of the great mystery. Tonight.

I turned to face the mirror, the lights surrounding the mirror suddenly seeming garish. I leaned in, studying my face. “Who are you?”

Another knock meant it was just about time for me to get on stage. Tonight, singing felt like a chore, the noose hanging around my neck.

When the door opened, the person walking inside wasn’t who I’d expected.

“Hello, beautiful.”

My Hunter. Mine. I almost laughed at the thought. “Hi ya, hunky man.” I pushed away from the table as he approached. When he wrapped his arms around me, I took a deep inhale of his aftershave. All three men had an entirely different scent. Hunter’s was woodsy with fresh rain in the spring, a testament to his name.

“How is my beautiful little lamb tonight?”

Lamb.

Little lamb. Little lamb.

I repeated the words several times in my mind, and a strange series of sensations tickled their way through my system. It wasn’t unlike the cute phrases they used for me, but it struck me differently tonight.

---