“Sloane, get out of here,” Kiln orders again.
It hits me. They found me through him. He’s been going all over the fucking place. My bodyguard. “Stupid motherfucker.”
When I lose my temper, I’m not known for wise decisions. Knocking Kiln on his ass is ridiculous while the fucking photographers are still around. Their cameras might be shattered but they have cell phones.
I’ll fucking deal with them in a minute.
“Where the fuck have you been going?” He promised he’d be careful whenever he went out to purchase our food for the day. The reason we’re here is because of the supposed privacy.
He clips my jaw. I lose my grip, blocking the punch he tries to throw at me, but I cold-clock him. He staggers back, so I refocus on the other two. Sure enough, their phones are going. While I wrestle one away, the other man takes off running. I began to give chase, but Kiln grips my shoulders.
“Go back to the house,” he snarls before mouthing, “Georgie.”
Georgie. She needs me.
Picking up the cameras, I hurry back to the house. I throw the equipment on the sofa, then rush to her room, throwing open the door. She’s in the corner, face covered by drawn knees.
Without speaking, I head to her window and shut the blind. It’s only then that she lifts her face to me. Her eyes widen. I got a small glimpse of the sweaty, wild-eyed motherfucker in the mirror over the sofa. My cheek is bruising from Kiln’s hits. Evidence of my roll in the bushes clings to my hair and is shown through the scratches on my arms and chest. My knuckles are also throbbing, out of practice after being put on a fight moratorium.
“Did they see me?”
They would’ve been taunting me with questions, so I don’t think so. “No.”
She rushes into my arms and burrows into me. For long moments, I thread my fingers through her hair and whisper to her. She’s scared, more for me than for herself.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Kiln growls behind me between puffs of air, just the wake-up I need before I do something stupid, like drag Georgie into the shower with me.
Pushing her away, I round on him. He throws another cell phone at me. It bounces off my stomach and crashes to the ground. I don’t give a fuck about the photographer’s phone beyond knowing that it’s here. “What were you thinking?”
He’s bruised and banged up, leaves and twigs clinging to his clothes. “You’re fucking stupid if you think you can hide anywhere.”
“And you’re a fucking dickhead who’s looking for a way to fuck me over.”
The hatred between us is palpable, flowing between us like shit from a sewer. He storms away, leaving me to gather Georgie in my arms again and sit quietly with her on the bed.
When he returns, half an hour later, he’s cleaned up. My main concern is Georgie, so I didn’t think to excuse myself to change clothes and see to my minor injuries.
Despite the turmoil of the past hour, there’s serenity and peace between she and I. Her presence calms me, as I know my nearness does the same for her.
“The girl at the drive-through recognized me yesterday,” Kiln begins.
Sighing, I sit Georgie beside me and get to my feet, ignoring her protest.
Kiln scratches his bald head. “I thought I’d given her enough incentive to keep fucking quiet.”
I glare at him. I know his fucking form of incentive with women. “So you thought allowing her to suck your dick would shut her the fuck up?”
“It’s worked before.”
That explains why he was an hour late returning with dinner last night. “You didn’t think I needed to know this?” No, of course not. He thought he’d handled it.
Simultaneously, our cell phones ring. Kiln walks away to answer his. I snatch mine out of my pocket. “What Jaeger?”
“Turn on the fucking television,” he tells me and hangs up.
I need to see the extent of what they know, so I follow his orders, ignoring Kiln’s dark look. I know he’s talking to our father and I bare my teeth in gloating. Better him than me.
Although I didn’t tell Georgie she could follow me, she does anyway, so by the time I sit, the TV is already on. Surprise, surprise, there I am.
“A statement from Mr. Mason’s representative says he can confirm he is in Ocean Springs, on the outskirts of Biloxi. No word yet on the reasons why he’s there. Unconfirmed reports say that he’s hiding out, while Maitland Carrington’s younger sister recovers from a suicide attempt at an area hospital. No statement yet from Mr. Carrington, who is currently in Miami.”
I glower at the screen and Georgie turns it off, without my bidding. She stares at the now-dark TV, utter shock on her face.
I don’t know if I should apologize to her or not. It seems so unfair to thrust her into this, after all she’s been through, and I’m about to subject her to more by bringing her with me on tour.
“Are you through with the Ferrari?”
“Yes.”