Jonathan snatched his phone and laptop off a nearby table and sank down onto the chocolate-brown leather sofa in his trailer. The distorted reflection he caught of himself in the dark screen of the massive TV on the opposite wall made him look even more tired than he felt. He’d been on the set of Deepest Sympathies, an ensemble drama about a family-run funeral home, since five that morning. He glanced at his phone, grimacing at the number of texts, e-mails, and missed calls that had accumulated during the six hours he’d been working.
He tipped his head back, letting his eyes fall closed for a second as a bone-weary exhaustion weighed him down. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and forced his eyes open. Even though he was on a break from filming, he still had work to do. He sat up straighter, and as he dialed into his voice mail, he flipped his laptop open with his free hand. After listening to his messages, he called Elijah back. Although the Alexa issue wasn’t the most pressing, it was the one weighing most heavily on him.
Elijah answered on the first ring. “Yes?”
“It’s Jonathan. Bring me up to speed.”
“We’ve finished going through her laptop, and there was nothing suspicious, but just to be safe, I put a tail on her this morning.”
“And?”
“She stayed at a friend’s house last night, as did her boyfriend. He also went with her to volunteer at the hospital this morning. He went out alone beforehand too, to a mixed martial arts gym. Worked out for a while, went back to the friend’s house.”
Jonathan drummed his fingers on the table as he stared unseeing at the computer screen in front of him.
“What do we know about the boyfriend? The friends?”
“Not much about the boyfriend, but I’ll see what we can dig up. The friend is Sierra Blake, and her fiancé, Sean Owens.”
Jonathan’s scalp prickled because this was all hitting a little too close to home for comfort. Over a year ago, he’d made the ultimately foolish decision to help Jack Nikolaidis win a seat in the state senate. The senator—Sierra Blake’s ex-boyfriend—hadn’t been able to pay the Brotherhood back for its services, and he’d come off the rails trying to get the money. Jack had gone so far as to shoot Owens, making an even bigger mess of the whole thing.
Alexa—sweet, dumb Alexa—didn’t know the truth about who he was, and so neither did her friends. But still, there was that prickle working its way across his scalp again. “Keep watching her and let me know if anything suspicious comes up. I think it’s time for me to meet this boyfriend of hers.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be in touch.”
Jonathan ended the call and pulled up Alexa’s number, a feeling he couldn’t quite name working its way through his chest as he listened to it ring. A mixture of anxiety, fear, anger, and suspicion churned through him as his gaze swept across the lavish trailer.
“Hello?”
“Alexa, honey, it’s me. How are you?” he asked in his most soothing tone.
“I’m okay. Just finished volunteering at the hospital.”
“You’re still staying with your friends?”
A slight pause. “Yeah. After that break-in, I don’t want to be alone.”
“You should come home. You don’t want to be a burden on your friends.” It would be so much easier to keep tabs on her if she were still under his roof.
“I’m not.” She snipped the words out, her tone sharper than he was used to, but he let it go. It wouldn’t do to push her away even more, especially because that snippiness had him on edge.
“In any case, come for dinner tomorrow night. Bring your new boyfriend. Your mom and I would love to meet him.” Meet him, get his fingerprints, run a background check.
She hesitated before answering. “Um, yeah. Okay. I’ll see if Zack’s free.”
“Wonderful. Tomorrow at seven.”
“All right. I gotta go, Dad. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, darling.” He ended the call and tossed his phone down on the table. He opened his e-mail and sorted through several messages, including the copy of the police report Alexa had filed. He’d had it forwarded to him by one of his men on the LAPD. Quickly, his eyes skimmed down the document, but nothing was out of place. Just a typical B&E report, filed by a Detective Antonio Rodriguez. He saved the e-mail and opened another, pleased to find preliminary acquisition information for Innkeeper Films. With Astor gone, Innkeeper was in chaos, and it was ripe for the picking. With its addition, Fairfax Films would grow and become even more powerful and influential. Increased market share. Increased revenues. Increased control.
But now he needed to focus on the larger task at hand, which was getting his hands on Crosby, that damn journalist from the Times who knew way too much. He’d been snooping around for years and had uncovered the Brotherhood’s latest business venture: weapons production. After all, why buy someone else’s guns when you could make your own? They’d managed to acquire a factory through one of the Brotherhood’s shell corporations and were set to start up production soon. Producing their own untraceable guns and ammunition would give them control over the arms market, and Jonathan was a little mad at himself that he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
But he’d gotten wind of an exposé that Chris Crosby, who’d started investigating the real estate transaction for the factory, was planning to write for the Times. Thankfully, their source at the paper had tipped them off before the piece had run. They’d tried the usual intimidation tactics, but Crosby hadn’t backed off and had gone to ground. He knew too much, and he posed the threat of discovery. It was the worst thing that could happen to the Brotherhood, as far as Jonathan was concerned, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure it didn’t happen.
* * *
“Don’t freak out, but we’re being followed.” Zack tightened his grip on the SUV’s steering wheel, cutting his eyes back and forth between the road ahead and his rearview mirror. To protect Alexa, he’d switched out his Jeep—which was registered to Zack De Luca—to one of Virtus’s vehicles. If anyone ran a trace on it, it’d come up as registered to Zack Caruso, with a different address, phone number, and driver’s license number on file. Clay, Virtus’s private investigator and tech whiz, had set everything up for him.
“Shit. We are?” To her credit Alexa didn’t turn in her seat to look out the back window but stayed completely still, staring straight ahead through the windshield. “How do you know?”
Keeping his foot steady on the gas pedal, Zack signaled and changed lanes, squinting through his sunglasses as the setting sun emerged from beneath a cloud, piercing the sky with low rays. Glancing once again in the rearview mirror, he watched as the nondescript black sedan did the same.
“The same car has stayed exactly four car-lengths back almost the entire time we’ve been driving. We picked him up shortly after we left Sierra and Sean’s. I’ve taken a few weird turns, and he’s still four cars back. It’s not a coincidence. He’s definitely following us.”
“What do we do?” He heard her swallow even over the hip-hop playing quietly through the SUV’s speakers.
He shook his head. “Nothing. We let him follow.”
She shifted in her seat, her fingers now wrapped around the shoulder strap of her seat belt. “You’re not going to try to lose him or something?”
“No. It would tip him off that I’ve noticed we’re being followed, which in turn would reveal a lot more than we want to. We have to act like everything’s normal. I’m a fighter heading to the gym to train, and you’re coming with me to watch. We can’t give anything away.”
She sighed, nodding slightly. “Right. Of course. God, I am so out of my depth here. My first instinct would’ve been to hit the gas and get the hell away from him.”
“That’s why I’m here, princess. To keep you safe.” He eased his foot off the gas slightly, keeping his speed consistent with the traffic around him.
Alexa pried her fingers away from the seat belt and hugged herself, turning toward him and biting her lower lip in a way that had blood flowing south of his waist, despite the tense situation they were in. “I like it when you call me that.”
He shrugged. “Well, I figured that, if we’re dating, I’d probably have a nickname for you.” Now wasn’t the time to tell her that he’d spent the past year thinking of her as a princess. Not in a spoiled, untouchable way, but as someone who deserved the best of everyone around her. Kindness and protection and everything good in life.
“Oh, right. Good call.” Her face fell slightly for a second, and then she managed a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He didn’t have time to dig into what her reaction meant, and he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, needing to focus completely on their surroundings. He glanced in the rearview mirror again, keeping tabs on the black sedan, which had gained a car-length on them, still following.
He scanned the traffic around them, on the lookout for anything suspicious, wondering if they had more company than just the one vehicle. The traffic on West Olympic wasn’t heavy, despite the fact that they were hitting the tail end of rush hour. Low-lying stucco buildings faced the street, the cracked sidewalks devoid of pedestrians. Scruffy palms and overgrown cedars lined the road, dotting the gated yards of the few residences on the street. Now that he knew they were dealing with the Golden Brotherhood, he needed every protective instinct on constant high alert. Using the SUV’s Bluetooth system, he called Sean.
“Owens.”
“I’m with Alexa, headed to the gym. We’ve picked up a tail. Black Toyota Camry, newish. Blacked-out windows, so no idea how many inside. Plate is six-Foxtrot-Romeo-November-one-six-four.”
“Got it. I’ll send Priestley out after you to keep tabs, and I’ll call it in to Morales, let her know what’s up. What’s your POA?”
“Plan of action is to proceed as normal, like I haven’t noticed the tail. Still heading to the gym. ETA is under ten minutes, give or take five for traffic.”
“Check in when you get there. Morales will run the plate. Maybe that’ll tell us more about who’s following you.”
“Right,” Zack said, nodding. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it was the Brotherhood who was following them. The real question was why. Did they know what Alexa knew? That she’d hired security?
“Stick to your plan, keep eyes on Alexa, and Colt’s backing you up. He’ll loop back to the gym and keep an eye on things once the tail’s taken care of.”
Zack disconnected the call, his knuckles protesting at the iron grip he kept wrapped around the steering wheel. “Does your father ever have you followed? Keep tabs on you?” he asked.
Alexa frowned. “Not that I’ve noticed, but I haven’t exactly been looking for that kind of thing.”
Zack’s jaw tightened, tension shooting down his neck and straining his muscles. “Can you think of anyone else who might follow you? A fan? A stalker? Paparazzi?”
She looked lost as she shook her head again, her blond waves fluttering against her face. “No. I don’t think so. But my father’s not happy that I moved out, and he knows about the break-in. He’s…protective isn’t the right word at all, but he’s…he’s territorial. It’s not impossible that he’d have me followed just to keep an eye on me. It doesn’t necessarily mean that he knows anything.”
Zack glanced at her. “It also doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know. We have to treat this as a threat. For me to keep you safe, I need to prepare for the worst case scenario.”
“Yeah, well, Dad figuring out that I know the truth and that I’m helping the LAPD investigate him is pretty much as worst case scenario as it gets.”
Zack nodded, her words hanging between them. She was risking a lot. Not just her relationship with her family, but potentially her own safety. He couldn’t even imagine the complicated shit she was struggling with. He pursed his lips, mulling over the question he wanted to ask. He licked his lips and then opened his mouth, unable to contain his curiosity. “You mentioned in Morales’s office that your father had hurt you. What happened?”
She took a deep breath, and as she released it, it looked as though she were deflating, collapsing in on herself like a balloon he’d just pierced with a needle. “Is that your gym?” She pointed at the big black-and-yellow Take Down sign as he turned onto West Pico. Changing the subject. Interesting. And doing nothing to satisfy his curiosity.
He debated for a second whether to press her on it, but as he swung the SUV into the Take Down parking lot, he decided to let it go. For now. But he wanted to know—badly—just what she’d meant by that comment. Mainly because he needed to know just how badly to hurt Jonathan Fairfax when he got his hands on him. No way was he going to let someone get away with hurting his girl.
Only she wasn’t really his girl. A detail—a fact—he was having a hard time holding on to.
He pulled the SUV into a space and threw it into park, then cut the ignition and came around to Alexa’s door. He pulled it open and helped her down, his eyes skimming the parking lot and the street beyond as Alexa’s body slid against his.
“Oh,” she said, the tiniest sound, as her breasts flattened against his chest. The black Camry turned the corner and headed toward them, not pulling into the parking lot, but slowing as it neared. Zack’s blood surged through his veins, and something hot and protective gripped him. He caged Alexa against the SUV, his palms flat against the vehicle, blocking her from view and shielding her from anything that might be coming their way.
He dipped his head and grazed his nose against her cheek, tracking the Camry in the side-view mirror of the SUV. “They’re driving by right now. Colt’s going to follow them, and we’re going to go inside. He’ll circle back and keep an eye on the gym. How you doing?”
She inhaled deeply, pressing her breasts against his chest again, and it took every ounce of control he had not to press his hips into her. But he couldn’t let himself get caught up in their charade. It was far too risky. Far too dangerous.
“I’m okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes for a second and, with his nose pressed to her temple, inhaled the coconut scent of her shampoo, but he held himself in check. God, a dangerously large part of him wanted to say, “Fuck pretending” and find out just how good it would feel to kiss her.
When she spoke again, her voice was firmer. “I’m okay.” Her eyes flashed up to his. “Thanks.”
He swallowed and nodded, glancing back at the side-view mirror. The Camry had passed, and he knew he should step back. But damn, it felt good being so close to her. “They’re gone. For now.”
She patted his chest, letting her hand linger against his pec. “That was a good move. I think…” She swallowed before continuing, her fingers circling over his pec and driving him insane. His fucking traitor of a brain imagined those fingers wrapped around his cock, which swelled in response. “I think Sean’s plan was a good idea.”
“The plan to pretend.” He held her eyes as he spoke, and her pupils dilated as she stared up at him, the black eating up nearly all of that stormy silvery blue.
“Yeah. Pretend.”
For several seconds they stood completely still, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Her eyes moved to his mouth, down his body, back to his mouth, and, finally, back to his eyes. He didn’t move, letting her gaze wander over him. Last night, when he’d nearly kissed her, he’d been surprised that she’d wanted it as much as he had. Maybe this wasn’t entirely pretend for her either. The thought sent need and something hot and possessive rippling through him.
But even if she wanted him, she was holding back. He’d seen it in her eyes last night and again just now when he’d asked her about how her father had hurt her. He had fighting and a less-than-stellar dating track record as his reasons for holding back, not to mention that she was a client. What were hers? Did it matter? She wasn’t his, and he needed to keep reminding himself of that.
“I feel safe with you,” she said, still circling her fingers over his chest.
He pried one of his hands away from the SUV and laid it over hers, holding her fingers over his heart, which thumped against her touch. “You should. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Alexa.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Including pretend to be my boyfriend, which has got to be above and beyond the call of duty.”
He eased back slightly, the intensity between them fading out, just a little. “Yeah. It’s such a hardship pretending to date a beautiful, sweet, smart woman like you.” He winked and turned to grab his gear bag to stop himself from hauling her against him and showing her what a hardship it was.