The reborn, p.4
The Reborn, page 4
He picked up immediately. “Wow, you’re up?”
“Yes.” Even I heard the quiver in my whisper.
“What’s wrong?” I could picture him standing at attention with that fierce protectiveness in his voice.
I must’ve been silent too long, forming my words.
“Olivia,” he growled as the faint jingle of keys sounded on the other end of the line. “I’m coming over. Right now.”
“I . . .” I didn’t know what to say, my mind spinning, everything centering on the note still on Elizabeth’s floor.
“Just tell me you’re both safe,” he bit out, true fear coating his voice.
“Yes. We’re safe.” I sank to sit on the edge of my bed as my legs became weak from the adrenaline drop. “Just scared.”
He mumbled something on his end, a sleepy Vanessa murmured back, then a door slammed. “What happened? Do you need the cops again?”
I thought of my slashed tires. “Probably.”
“Fucking hell, Olivia. Details please.” His SUV roared to a start and the sound changed as his phone switched to Bluetooth.
“Vanessa already filled you in on last night, I guess?”
“With the babysitter? Yes.”
“She was too scared to go home last night, so I let her spend the night after the cops cleared the place. She’s extra nervous because she’s got history with an abusive ex. Recently, she mentioned seeing a guy at the park when she was with Elizabeth, then last night . . .” I sucked in a breath.
“So, she thinks her douchebag ex-boyfriend is fucking with her?”
I stood and paced to the window that faced my front yard. I drew back the blinds enough to peek at my car with four flat tires that felt very personal. “I don’t . . . I’m not sure.”
He was silent a long moment. “What aren’t you telling me?”
You can’t hide from me. SHE IS MINE.
Was that Sofia? Or . . .?
“Just hurry up and get here. I’ll explain everything then.”
“Will you be okay until I get there?”
I glanced at my closet, where our dad’s old shotgun was hidden. “Yes.”
When we hung up, I hurried and got dressed, ran a brush through my hair, and yanked it up into a ponytail. I checked on Elizabeth and Sofia again, then quietly stepped outside to wait for my brother, crumpled-up note in hand. I drew comfort from the sunshine that had chased the fog away and that life had resumed as normal on my quiet street—cars were driving by, a lawnmower was running a few doors down, Mr. Thompson had come out in his robe to get his newspaper. I refused to feel threatened in the light of day, yet I still had my cell phone clenched in my sweaty hand, ready to dial 911 if I needed to.
For the first time since stepping outside that morning, I glanced over and looked at Sofia’s little car parked at the curb. Everything seemed fine over there. No flat tires. No notes.
SHE IS MINE . . .
A chill rippled over my skin as I contemplated those words for the thousandth time.
A few minutes later, Camden’s black Mercedes G-Wagon flew into my driveway and was barely in park before he was barreling out and loping toward where I sat on the front porch steps.
“You alright?” Concerned blue eyes raked over my face as if searching for wounds.
I stood and sagged into his strong arms, soaking up his reassuring warmth. “I am now.” The tears started fresh again, soaking his t-shirt as I clung to him.
He held me like that for a long moment and let me cry it out. “Why don’t we go in—What the fuck?”
I looked up to see what had caused the automatic fury in his voice. His body had gone tight and rigid under my hold as he caught sight of my car for the first time.
Slowly, like a snake uncoiling, he drew back to face me. “What the hell happened, Olivia?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and found it like that.” My voice was low and choked.
He walked over and circled my car, taking in the slashed tires, running a hand over his head, the rage evident on his face. He lifted stone-cold eyes my way, but before he could say a word, I lifted my hand with the crumpled note.
“There’s more.”
His gaze dropped to the piece of paper. Without a word, he strode over and plucked it from my palm, straightening it out to read it.
I watched the wheels begin to turn behind his eyes as he worked to interpret the meaning of the words written in bold black print. The same words I would never be able to unsee for the rest of my life.
His expression became a stone mask when he looked at me again, which would’ve been scary if I wasn’t certain my brother would never hurt me. The only tell that he was beyond furious was the tick in his jaw. “Clearly, this isn’t about your babysitter,” he bit out.
“I’m not sure . . .” Though everything in me knew the truth. I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Olivia.” His tone called bullshit as he glanced down again. “She is mine,” he read aloud before meeting my gaze again. “Elizabeth.”
The weight of his stare was too heavy. I broke eye contact and looked down at my clenched hands. “Yes.”
He growled and spun to face my car again before turning back. “Look at me.”
I lifted tear-filled eyes to his and found a wealth of love and support, which broke me even further.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, too shaken to speak.
“And I would do anything to protect you and that little girl in there. Anything.”
I nodded again.
He sucked in a deep breath, composing himself. “I’ve never asked too many questions about your past or Lizzie’s father. Figured it’s your business, and it doesn’t matter.” He shook the paper in the air between us, his expression fierce. “But apparently it does now. So, I’m gonna need you to trust me, sis. Tell me the truth and let me help you.”
“I . . .” I hesitated, so used to keeping everything inside. There were only three people on earth who knew the truth besides my therapist: me, him, and my mother, whom I’d confided in during a moment of weakness in the throes of labor pain, then swore her to secrecy, though I’d only told her the bare bones of the truth. The whole thing would have been too much. She never understood why I was so ashamed, but she’d honored my wishes.
As I was learning, it was dangerously easy to focus all your energy on even the merest glimmer of light while ignoring the tainted darkness of sin. But I should’ve known that all dark things are brought into the light eventually.
I also knew my brother, inside and out. I knew he’d never betray me or my daughter, and he’d protect us with everything he had. Something I was honestly exhausted from trying to do alone.
So, we sat on my front porch step, and I finally told him the truth—or as much as I dared.
By the time I was done, I found myself in his arms again, exhausted and messy from a good old-fashioned ugly cry. And I guess marriage and fatherhood had softened him, because instead of pulling away from my display of emotion like he might’ve done not that long ago, he leaned into it and consoled me like the rock I needed in that moment.
After a while, he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “I’m proud of you, sis.”
I lifted my face toward his, thoroughly confused how, in everything I’d just told him, he could find anything other than a hot mess. “Proud?”
“Yes. I mean, I’ve always been proud as hell of you as a person and as my sister, but now I can see what kind of person you truly are.”
“You mean, one who sleeps with the director of her ballet academy that she just met, gets knocked up, then dumped? That kind of person?” I knew I was leaving out some of the highlights, but he got my drift.
He frowned. “No, and I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that. It’s shit and you know it. I mean the kind of person who takes the hits life gives her and still comes out swinging . . . is still kind, compassionate, one hell of a businesswoman, and the best mother I’ve ever seen next to our own.” He leaned in and wiped away an errant tear from my cheek. “Don’t ever sell yourself short, Olivia. That guy in Italy was an asshole for treating you like you’re disposable, and if he walked away from his child—from my princess—let’s just say, I hope I get to meet him one day so I can show him just what I fucking think about him.”
I stared into my brother’s eyes, trying to absorb his words. Before I could respond, the front door opened, and a tousled Sofia appeared with Elizabeth in her arms.
“Sorry,” Sofia said. “She woke up and was crying for you. I couldn’t find you, but I heard voices out here.”
“It’s fine.” I stood to reach for my daughter, but she caught sight of my brother and her tears stopped as she began to wiggle excitedly and make grabby hands in his direction. “Typical,” I muttered under my breath.
“I’m the cool uncle. What can I say?” He plucked her from Sofia, and they began talking their own language as we all headed inside.
I locked up and watched as Sofia tucked herself back under a blanket on the sofa, her eyes wary on my brother.
“You okay?” I asked her.
She nodded, her eyes slipping toward the door. “Everything alright out there?”
“Oh. Uh . . .” I paused, not sure how much to tell her. I didn’t want to shake her up more after last night. Thank goodness Camden stepped forward.
“It is now,” he said. At her confused frown, he clarified. “Just some low-rate vandalism. I’m here to take care of it.”
My gaze shot to him, but he ignored me, his focus back on Elizabeth.
Sofia rose slowly, not seeming convinced. “Okay. I guess I’ll get ready then. I have early classes today.”
“Of course,” I said. “Let me know if you need anything.”
As soon as she was in the bathroom, I spun toward Camden. “Take care of it?”
His glance was casual, but it spoke volumes. I’d seen his version of ‘taking care of things’ when he’d had to hire a full-on security team to protect Vanessa from overly aggressive paparazzi before they were even married. I was so not on board with any of that.
“Cam—”
“Yours and Elizabeth’s safety is not up for negotiation,” he cut me off.
I reeled back as if I’d been slapped. I’d never, in my life, heard my brother talk to me this way. “I’m not your wife,” I shot back. “Or some piece of property that you can control. This isn’t the stone ages!”
Calmly, he pressed a kiss to Elizabeth’s cheek before he turned and put her in her high chair. He continued to ignore me as he moved to the fridge and pulled out a sippy cup of juice and handed it to her, along with a handful of Cheerios.
As he was puttering around, looking entirely too big and out of place in my small kitchen, Sofia emerged from the bathroom, back in her regular clothes. She eyeballed us both. “I’m just gonna . . .” She hiked her thumb toward the door.
“Right.” I spun away from my brother and walked her out.
She froze when she spotted my car. “Oh my God!” Her hand flew to her mouth before big brown eyes met mine.
“What Camden is handling.” I shrugged.
Her hand dropped as her gaze moved back and forth from the car to me a couple of times. “That happened . . . last night?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.” I touched her arm. “Don’t worry. Cam will take care of it. You’re safe.” I hoped I was telling the truth.
She faced me again. “Do you want me to stay? Help with Lizzie or something?”
“Oh. No. I’m good, but thank you. Get to class. I’ll be fine.” I offered her a tremulous smile that I didn’t feel and waited while she got into her own car at the curb and drove away before moving back inside to face down my brother and his ideas about “safety.”
Turned out my brother was not kidding about the nonnegotiable safety issue. He was also willing to spare no expense to ensure it, and while I talked a big game about not being controlled, I was willing to swallow my pride where my daughter was concerned. After all, I had no idea, truly, what I was dealing with yet, and after thinking about it for a while, I decided why not make use of the resources at my disposal? Meaning, a rich, famous, loving brother who was willing to go as far as buy me a new house in another town, complete with a full security system and full-time bodyguards.
We negotiated it down to one temporary security person who would do a thorough security assessment until we figured out how viable the threat was and the police dealt with it accordingly. Cam didn’t like it, but he agreed. For now.
And so, later that day, after the police came and did their thing with my brother hovering around with an angry frown, I found myself cushioned in a back booth at a small diner, sipping ice water and toying with a business card for Kade Markus, CEO, Hollow Point Security, as I waited for who Camden promised was their best guy. I believed him, or my brother would never have allowed this meeting, much less allowed Mr. Markus to put him in charge of Elizabeth’s and my safety. Still, the idea that I needed “security” at all grated. It might be par for the course for my famous athlete brother, but not for me. I was not looking forward to the intrusion.
I’d already been intruded upon, I reminded myself, and this was a necessary evil.
With a sigh, I picked up my ice water and sipped as my gaze was drawn to movement up front.
Speaking of evil, my mind whispered automatically as I took in the man who had just entered. Tall and muscled, his entire being screamed ‘do not fuck with me’ as he slid off mirrored aviators and spoke quietly to the hostess. He was encased in black from head to toe, like the devil incarnate, except for a glint of silver around his neck where a thin chain hung beneath his fitted t-shirt. Black jeans hugged his hips and thighs like sin. Black biker boots that were clearly not for show. Black hair, a dusting of black stubble. A hint of black ink peeked out from his shirtsleeves.
The man was clearly trouble. . . and I’d had enough to last a lifetime. I tried to avert my gaze, honestly I did, but I just couldn’t.
The hostess said something back to him, then began to lead him through the restaurant.
Straight toward me.
All of the air around me seemed to vanish as they stopped next to my table. The hostess said something else to him, then moved away, leaving the tall dark stranger standing next to me expectantly.
He cleared his throat. “Olivia Creed?”
Holy Mary, even his voice was coated in chocolate-covered gluttony.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze toward his, taking in the strong cords of his throat and his prominent Adam’s apple, firm jaw, ruggedly imperfect nose, and . . .
I stifled a gasp.
I was expecting dark as night eyes to go with the rest of him. Nope. Instead, pools of nearly incandescent crystalline blue stared back at me, so light and clear I could’ve dove in and gotten lost in them.
“Ms. Creed?” he said again when I didn’t respond.
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry.” I offered my hand. “Olivia. And you are . . .?”
He slid in across from me, dropping a manila folder into the booth next to him before he took my hand, the heat of his large palm engulfing mine. “Justin Ashford. Hollow Point Security.”
“Right.” I swallowed as I was hit with a double punch of his scent. Sandalwood and a hint of spice with a healthy dose of testosterone. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ashford.”
“Justin works.”
I nodded. “Justin.”
The waitress appeared then, and he ordered an omelet and black coffee. I waved her off, too nervous to eat.
“Do you always eat breakfast for lunch?” I asked him, those same nerves getting the best of me.
I’d give it to the man of ice and steel, he didn’t crack a smile. “I’ve learned you eat what a place is known for. Hard to go wrong that way.”
I nodded. “Interesting.”
“Smart.”
“Right.” I wiped my hands on my jean legs and tried again. “So, how do we do this?”
A dark brow winged up. “Do this?”
“Yeah. This.” I indicated the table and space between us. “I mean, I’m sure you’re used to doing security for big famous people like my brother all the time, but I’m just a mom and dance teacher who lives in a small three-bedroom in Dodge. I’m not . . .” I blinked away the unexpected and embarrassing burn of tears, never more grateful for the interruption when the waitress returned with his coffee.
He waited until she was gone and sipped, then returned his eerie blue gaze to mine. “You’re not what?”
I steeled my spine. “It doesn’t matter.”
Unblinking, he took me in, making my pulse jump in my veins. Everything about him felt supremely controlled and calculated. Glacier cold. “You’re right.”
“I’m . . .” I blinked, surprised. “What?”
“It doesn’t matter. You could be a drugged-out hooker in a trailer park or the president of the United States.” I felt pinned to my seat by both his words and his frozen stare. “I’ve been hired to protect you, and that’s what I’ll do. With my life if necessary. End of story.”
“Just like that?”
He leaned forward, his hands folded on the table as if in prayer, his voice low, ominous, and as deadly serious as I’d ever heard a man be. “Just like that.”
Seven
Olivia
Then . . .
Thunder boomed mere seconds after the lightning flashed, lighting up the dark sky beyond the open blinds of the hotel room window as rain fell in noisy sheets on the balcony outside. Inside, I was warm and cozy, wrapped up in Christoph’s embrace, the sheet up to our waists as his fingertips trailed lazily up and down my waist.
In the wake of our lovemaking, my body was sated, my eyes heavy as I studied my own fingertips as they ran through his sprinkling of chest hair. The air was saturated with the scent of us together and his cologne, as well as the storm outside. It was perfect. We were perfect. Even if we were new. Everything about how naturally we’d come together in these past couple of months spoke volumes. At least to me.
