Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (38 page)

“
What
?” I wail, on the verge of breaking down. “Is there a special time for you to be my best friend? I need you
now
. Whatever dick you have in there can wait.”

Lowering her voice, she growls at me through clenched teeth, “No, it can’t wait. It’s Muscles. We were just about to seal the deal. Your timing stinks.”

Muscles. So this is why he’s been unavailable all day? “Sorry, Kiki, but I need to speak with him, too.” I try to push past her, and she blocks me, pleading. “Lotty, you know how he feels about you. You go in there, I might never get laid.”

My eyes meet hers and stay there. “Kiera, I wouldn’t disrupt you if it wasn’t serious. But he knows something about Andrew, and he’s been avoiding telling me.”

Understanding that this is more important than lust, sex, and hot men with eight packs, she mouths “
Oh
” and lets me in.

Marching through the sumptuous home I haven’t been inside in ages, I navigate to the living room, and there is Muscles, sprawled out on his back on an immaculate white couch, shirt off, gray boxers peeking through the undone flaps of his black jeans, shit-kicker boots still on. Not gonna lie, Muscles has one
heck
of a body. If I were Kiera, I’d be mad at me right now too, psychotic abuser on the loose or not. 

Muscles spots me as I approach, frowns, and then jerks up as if remembering his half-naked state. “Lots, what’re you—”

“Nice abs, Black Goliath.” Walking over to him, I press one knee onto the couch, outside his thigh, half-straddling him, then trail two fingers down the deep groove separating his eight-packs into two fours. They’re like granite. “Solid, too.” Backing off, I turn and give Kiera two thumbs up.

She winks and licks her lips. I know, I know, my bestie is famished and dying to tear into the juicy scrumptiousness that is Muscles.

He, however, looks a mixture of confused and enthused, glancing between Kiera and me.

“Easy boy,” I say, holding a hand up. “This is not a threesome ambush. Today is not your lucky day. Maybe next time. Right now, what I need is the information you have on my psychopath of an ex-boyfriend.”

His first reaction is to scowl at me, so I hold up both my hands this time. “I get under your skin, I know. I can’t help it. I’m as awesome as the cool kids say I am.”

Kiera giggles behind me.

Muscles’ scowl deepens.

Getting to his feet, he begins zipping up his pants, but Kiera quickly rushes forward with a “Whoa whoa whoa!”, stopping the action, hooking her fingers through his belt loop. “None of that. This party is still on, bad boy. Just give her the information she needs and she’ll be on her way, and we can pick up where we left off. No need to go zipping up the good stuff and hiding the view.”

“It’s true.” I nod in agreement. “That trail is
divine
.”

“Jesus Christ.” Muscles’ gaze whips back and forth between Kiera and me, his head shaking, astonishment unhidden. “You two are the most…
unusual
girlfriends I’ve met in my entire life.”

“We know,” I say, waving my hand impatiently. “Come on. Tell me.”

Sitting back down, his abs crunching, he runs his hand over his shorn head. “You’re safe, Lots. We got you covered. What’re you worried about?”

I fix one hand on my hip, eyebrow raising. “Oh really? Like how you have me covered right now? Do you know I’ve been walking around the city
alone
for the past five hours?”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean you’re alone? Mike’s been assigned to you. Boss has me on something else.
Mike
is supposed to be on you today.”

Hmm. Seems “boss” has been doing a lot of rearranging lately. “Well, Mike might be on something, sure, but it’s not me. I’m on me today. Yep, I’m feeling myself like that.”

Muscles’ eyes goes hard and serious as he grits his teeth, “His jealously is getting the best of him.” This must be about Noah. If so, I agree. “You know what, I’m re-assigning myself to you, whether he wants to pay me to or not. You can’t be walking around on your own until we find out what your ex is up to, Lots. He knows you run in the park in the mornings, but he’s done nothing yet.”

I take in a sharp breath, willing myself not to show fear.  “How do you know that?”

“I caught someone tailing you while you were running one morning. Thought he was just another runner at first until I realized he was keeping on you. Backed off when you met up with Boss for your final sprints, but I called in two of my guys and we detained him. Said he was paid to deliver a message. He had a note. Just wanted to get close enough to pass it to you.”

Someone was tailing me.
Someone was tailing me
. I manage, “What—what did the note say?”

His chest heaves with a sigh, but he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, opens it, and takes out a folded square of paper and passes it to me.

A shaking hand reaches out and takes it, unfolds it. Four sentences scrawled in Andrew’s childish penmanship.

You know better than to believe in fairytales.

Trying to live a life without me in it is unrealistic.

I’m your reality.

I OWN YOU.

Your only.

I read it, and read it again, and again.

“He’s smart. He knows you wouldn’t be out if you were on your own, so he’s testing the waters,” Muscles spares. “Testing to see if anyone will step forward in your defense.”

He knows. He knows about Andrew, about the abuse. Noah didn’t tell him, I’m positive of that, so it had to be Kiera. He probably seduced it out of her. “You made any moves?”

He shakes his head. “No. We want him to think it’s safe to come after you. The kid he sent was scared shitless. We gave him some cash and told him to let your ex believe the delivery was successful. We’re just waiting now. Haven’t seen him or any of his minions anywhere near Wells Height, so it’s likely he doesn’t know where you’re living.”

“Who’s
we
?”

He looks at me askance. “My security team.”

I wave the note. “Does Noah know?”

Another head shake. “He’s worried enough about you. He pays me to assuage him with a peace of mind, so I don’t let him in on every little thing we discover unless it gets dangerous.”

My eyes bug out as I wave the note again. “And you don’t think
this
is dangerous?”

“No. That’s a rat cautiously nibbling cheese while it’s in a trap. Like I said, he’s testing the waters. He knows you wouldn’t be running in the city unless you had some manpower behind you. We show him all our muscles right now; he’ll find a way to outsmart us.” Striding up to me, he places his hands on my shoulders. “Lots, breathe. Relax. As long as I’m around, I’ll never let him get to you, alright?” He pulls me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me, quelling the anxious tremors rushing through me. “You’re safe, Lots. He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

Over his shoulder, Kiera nervously nibbles her lip. And I see it. Like me, she’s unconvinced.

It doesn’t matter how much muscle I have behind me, I know my ex, and he’s nothing if not determined. If Andrew wants to get to me, he
will
.

Much to Kiera’s dismay, Muscles insisted on bringing me home. Although he almost instantly made it all better by ordering her to pack an overnight bag. When she questioned why, he said, “You’re in my bed tonight.”

Kiera all but bounced up and down before rushing off to pack her bag.

Now, in the elevator up to Noah’s apartment, she’s hanging off him, his arms around her waist as she makes out with his neck and whispers all the things she plans on doing to him later, never mind that we’re in an enclosed space and I can hear every dirty word.

I don’t think Muscles is with her to make me jealous this time. This looks real. Seems he’s decided to let his “thing” for me go and move on. Probably figured competing with his own boss isn’t worth it. I don’t think it is either. “Boss” will win. Always.

The elevator doors open and reveal Noah pacing back and forth in front of it, his phone pressed to his ear, fingers shoved back through his hair, gripping the ends.

At the sound of the ding, he stops pacing and glances up with anxious eyes. Our gaze connects, and then he does a quick body scan of me. Shoulders visibly relaxing, he says into the phone, “She’s here, Mom. Call you back.”

He takes a step toward me, but before he can make a single utterance, Muscles steps out of the elevator, intersecting, and in a low, respectful voice, asks, “A word, please?”

Noah appears nettled at this request, irritated. He hesitates, stares over Muscles’ shoulder to me, agitation unconcealed. But then, reluctantly, he nods, and the two men walk into the apartment.

I’m about to exit the elevator, too, when Kiera grabs the hem of my tank and pulls me back. She waits for the doors to close and then pushes the stop button.

Puzzled, I turn to ask what her deal is, but pause when she holds up a finger and digs deep into the bottom of her monogrammed LV keep-all bag. Her hand reemerges with something in a black velvet pouch.

I eye the outline under the smooth velvet, understanding what it is before she even takes it out. A gun. A small black gun. Small enough to fit inside my coin purse.

Her expression, as she smooths her palm over the rubberized handle, is an amalgamation of grave rage and intense concern. “Dad gave me this on my eighteenth birthday last year, after I insisted I no longer needed a ‘nanny’ or whatever. It’s licensed. I want you to keep it. At least until Andrew is no longer a threat. I believe Muscles and his team can protect you. But I also saw Andrew after you left him, and he’s either in love with you in his own twisted, wrongful way, or he’s detrimentally obsessed with you. I don’t believe he’s going to stop until he has you again. So…” She presses the gun into my palm, the touch of cool metal immediately giving me a boost of confidence. “…hopefully this, if he does get to you, will stop him.”

My fingers curl around the object as I examine it, having never held a gun before. Kiera goes on to inform me there are five bullets inside, and shows me how to turn the safety on and off. Then she orders me to hide it in my bag as she releases the elevator stop button.

When the doors slide open, Noah and Muscles are standing in front of the elevator with narrowed, suspicious eyes and intimidating crossed arms.

Muscles makes to speak first, but Kiera beats him to it, “Before you ask, we were discussing period symptoms, tampons, yeast infections, and douching. Would you like a repeat of our convo?”

Noah grimaces, while Muscles glares, knowing it’s all lies. Yet he utters nothing, walking in as I walk out.

The doors close, separating us; I’m left alone with Noah. We stare at each other, mere feet apart, neither wanting to speak first.

I’m the first to avert my eyes, though, training my gaze downward, to the space between both our feet.

“Have you eaten?”

My gaze snaps up, because that’s the last question I expect him to ask. He studies me with profound intent.

I shake my head. “Not since breakfast at your mother’s.”

“Come on, then,” he says, turning and walking ahead of me. “I bought us Thai food on the way home.”

A laugh comes out despite the tenseness of the moment. “Instead of firing me for boycotting work all day, you got me food?”

He gives off a humorless laugh. “You’re never getting ‘fired,’ Lotty. If you say yes, then this is your home. You take care of it whenever you want, however you want.”

Almost imperceptibly, his shoulders rise, as if in anticipation of my response to that. But I give nothing, silently following him into the living room.

There are white takeout boxes of Thai food on the coffee table, along with two large bottles of Vitamin Water. The television is paused on
Graceland
.

“I set everything up,” he explains when he notices me eying it all. “Was thinking we could do a
Graceland
binge…That’s before I realized you weren’t here.”

He turns to me. Crosses his arms. Uncrosses them. Crosses them again. Combs his fingers through his hair.

I take him in, his anxiety, his worry, his
hope
. His suit jacket and tie are gone, leaving just his suit pants and dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Are you done running from me now?” he finally asks. “Or should I expect more of this each time I open up to you?”

I set my sports-bag on the ground beside the couch, mindful of the weapon hidden inside, and then I locate Andrew’s note tucked into the waistband of my tights, handing it to him.

As he unfolds and reads it, I say, “
I own you
. Those three words, I hate them. I hate them with a raging passion. He used to repeat them to me whenever I did something he didn’t like, whenever he thought I needed to be punished.
I own you,
he would remind me. Today, when you said them, I just…it just…”

I close my eyes. Inhale. Exhale, slow are steady. Chasing off the old fear. Things are different now. I’m stronger. I can fight back. I’m not a karate kid, but the man in front of me has been quick and efficient in lessons on self-defense, so I’m a lot more capable now than I was before. In addition to that, I have a gun. Andrew will come, but at least I’ll be prepared. It’s petrifying not knowing when, but I can’t let him steal anymore of me by being perpetually afraid.