Rock the Bodyguard (9 page)

FUCK YOUR SOCIETY

FUCK YOUR PROPRIETY

WE DON'T NEED YOUR DEITY

GOD IS DEAD

Judging by the howls of the crowd,
they were of like mind. Miles was slightly puzzled by proceedings. What was
taking place didn't feel like a Cash Raine concert. It felt like a Cash Raine
concert in another dimension. He rather liked it.

When Mattie returned to his side a
while later, he cast a questioning look down at her. “God is dead?”

“Don't like it? Blame Nietzsche,”
Mattie quipped. “Besides, makes a change from Rodeo Sticks, right?”

Miles looked out onto the stage,
where Cash's regular performance had resumed. She was being held aloft by four
brawny, shirtless dancers. She herself, was wearing nothing but a sparkling red
cloth strapped around her breasts. It wound around her back and then covered
her crotch. Nothing untoward could be seen, but her body was almost indecently
exposed, her toned torso contorting as she rolled around in the arms of the
men, warbling something about falling in love.

Mattie let out a low whistle under
her breath. “That girl is too damn hot for her own good.”

Again, Mattie was right. On stage,
Cash was a sparkling goddess. Her voice and her movements transported Miles to
a primal place. He almost forgot about the crowd as he feasted his eyes on
Cash. It occurred to him that she was channeling something far deeper than the
bubblegum lyrics would suggest. She wasn't just another singer wriggling her
hips. She was sex itself, a feminine force that entranced and enchanted all
those watching. Or maybe that was just his desire whispering in his ear,
wanting him to give way to animal impulse.

“Shouldn't you be working?” Mattie
nudged him.

He looked down at her, slightly
puzzled. Mattie usually avoided him like the plague, communicating in scowls
and sometimes the occasional grunt. But she'd been clingy all night, barely
leaving his side except when she was performing. There could be only one reason
for that - she was afraid of something. Maybe the fight that had resulted in the
two broken ribs she nursed when she thought nobody was looking had scared her
more than she wanted to let on. His suspicion grew when the concert ended and
Cash wanted to attend the after party, which was being held at the same venue,
but Mattie didn't.

Cash was buzzed from the
performance and ready to let off some steam. She came out of her dressing room
wearing a short cocktail dress and with her hair and makeup re-done for a night
out. She looked transcendentally beautiful, so much so his heart hurt just
looking at her.

“Miles, will you take Mattie back
to the hotel? There's lots of security here,” Cash said, “and you can come
right back and watch me. I just want to make sure she has someone looking out
for her.”

“I can have one of the guys take
her back,” Miles said. He was reluctant to leave Cash alone, even for a few
minutes.

“I'd feel better if you did it,”
Cash said, imploring him with those wicked baby blue eyes.

“Very well,” Miles said. He had a
word with the auxiliary security hired for the tour, then, satisfied that Cash
was as safe as anything or anyone could be, he commended her to their care.

“Mighty nice of you to escort me
home, Muscles,” Mattie said as they took a side exit and got into a waiting
car.

“Someone has to make sure you don't
get jumped by mysterious shadowy strangers again,” he deadpanned. “For no
reason at all.”

Mattie looked at him, a pale figure
in the depths of the cab. “You're mad I didn't give you more details? You want
details?” She shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. I went out for a cigarette and
someone punched me in the back of the head. After that, things got bad.”

Taking the rare opportunity
afforded by Mattie being in a talking mood, Miles kept questioning her. “And
you don't know why someone would do that?”

“It's never happened before,”
Mattie said. “I know I look like I get into fights all the time, but I hadn't
been in a fight since 3rd grade until that asshole sucker punched me.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Miles
said, feeling slightly guilty. He'd privately blamed Mattie for the entire
incident, thinking she'd no doubt started the fight. If she really had been
jumped out of nowhere, then it made sense that she had agreed to his rules, and
that she wasn't putting up a fight about him taking her home. It made sense
that she'd been sticking close to him at the concert. She was scared. Really
scared.

“It hurt,” she said. “That guy
kicked the crap out of me.”

Miles frowned. “It was a man? I
thought you said it was a group of people.”

“I lied,” Mattie said, shrugging.
“I didn't want everyone thinking I was weak. It was just one guy. He didn't say
anything, he just kicked my ass.”

“Mattie...” Miles half growled,
half sighed. “It could have been the same man who broke into Cash's suite. If
you'd told me the truth at the time, we might have been able to do more.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn't think
about it.” She gave him a look that was at once apologetic and a little bit
afraid. “I don't know why anyone would do that. I really don't. And I didn't
know anything would happen to Cash.”

“You need to start trusting me and
talking to me, Ms. Dwyer,” Miles said. “I can't keep anybody safe if people lie
to me.”

Mattie looked shamefaced. “I'll
try. It's not really in my nature, y'know?”

Miles did know.

They were drawing close to the
hotel. He was looking forward to leaving Mattie with Kevin and getting back to
Cash. With his favorite celebrity in a partying mood, the evening was looking
promising. Perhaps they'd be able to sneak away a little later and enjoy some
intimate time together. Flashes of her tight bottom just barely encased in that
little blue dress danced in his mind.

“Oh my god.” Mattie's gasp cut
through his pleasant thoughts. She'd gone ahead and opened the suite door. He
looked at what she was looking at, and all semblance of a pleasant evening was
shattered.

There was blood on the floor, thick
patches of it sinking into the cream carpet. The source of the sanguine
makeover quickly became apparent. Kevin was tied to a chair in the middle of
the suite. There was a cut on his head, blood dripping into his eyes and
trickling down his nose. His hands and feet had been bound with cable ties and
a pair of what looked like Cash's panties were stuffed into his mouth. Miles
wasted no time in removing the gag and releasing Kevin. Aside from some
bruising, he seemed to be in one piece, though the haunted look in his eyes was
of concern. He stared right through Miles, saying nothing at all.

“Who did this? Kev?”

Kevin shrugged. It wasn't just a
shrug that indicated he didn't know. It was one that indicated he didn't care.
Not at all. Miles' heart sank.

Mattie kicked the door shut with a
feral snarl. “Enough of this fucking shit. First I get jumped, now Kev does?
Some sick fuck is trying to pick us off, one by one.”

The impact of the door hitting the
frame made Kevin startle – then he was gone. Just gone. He stared off into
space, his lips moving, but no sound coming out.

“Kev. Kev.” Miles shook him gently.
“Come back, buddy.”

“What's with him?” Mattie asked the
question bluntly, but she was clearly genuinely concerned.

“Post traumatic stress disorder,”
Miles explained quickly. “Kevin suffers from it. Has since Iraq. So stop
banging things and keep your voice down.”

“Fucking hell,” Mattie hissed. “I
didn't even know he was in the military.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Do
you have a cigarette?”

“I thought we weren't allowed...”
Mattie stopped talking as Miles narrowed his eyes at her, and handed her packet
of cigarettes over, along with a lighter. “Here.”

“Go get some towels, something to
clean him up with. And my first aid kit.” He gave the orders quietly, but with
authority and to her credit, Mattie obeyed without question.

Whilst she was scurrying for
supplies, Miles put a cigarette to his lips. He lit it, then removed it and
offered it to Kevin. Though the man had not smoked in years, he inhaled almost
automatically, then slowly began to drift back up into the world of conscious
reality.

“Someone hit me,” Kevin said,
taking a very long drag. “Hard.” He began to jiggle one leg, his entire body
shaking.

“Yes they did, buddy,” Miles said,
taking one of the hotel's pristine white towels from Mattie's hands and
pressing it to Kevin's bloody head. Kevin barely seemed to notice, he didn't
wince or acknowledge any of the pain.

“Insurgents. Fucking insurgents.”
Kev took another long drag. “Blew me up.”

“It's okay, we have a medic on the
way,” Miles said, playing along for the moment. This was bad. The man was in
full flashback.

“I'm okay,” Kevin said, latching on
to the first part of Miles' sentence. “I'm okay.” His eyes darted around the
room, looking at everything but seeing nothing. “I'm okay.”

“Yeah, you're okay,” Miles agreed.
“I'm just going to put this blanket around your shoulders, alright?”

“I'm okay,” Kevin repeated as Miles
draped the blanket. “I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.” He chanted the words like a
dull mantra, a skipping record as his brain refused to process anything more
than the most basic attempts at speech.

“He is not fucking okay,” Mattie
whispered, crouching next to Miles.

“No, he's not,” Miles replied.
“Call down to reception. Tell them we need an ambulance and we need the
police.”

Mattie nodded and scuttled off to
do his bidding, leaving Miles looking into Kevin's remote stare. A cold, hard
rage began to build in his belly. This was no longer a series of unfortunate
events. This was a systematic campaign of terror being waged by a brutal
coward. Someone was going to pay dearly for this.

Whilst Mattie made the call, Miles
tried to keep Kevin talking. He was only barely coherent, fading in and out of
awareness. It was almost better when he thought he was back in the war, because
then he was stoic. When he came back to the present he was distraught and
confused, almost on the verge of tears.

The paramedics were not in any
hurry to arrive, but hotel management did send up a tray full of hot tea as a
token of their almost complete lack of concern. Between drinking tea and
smoking, Kevin managed to calm down enough to come back to reality. Miles knew
Kevin was back properly when he screwed up his face and thrust the cigarette
into a half cup of tea.

“What...” Kevin scowled. “Why the
hell... why would you give me a cigarette?”

“I thought it would help you
relax.”

“I don't need to relax,” Kevin
snapped. “I need to kick that guy's ass. He hit me from behind. Coward.”

Miles exchanged a significant look
with Mattie. A rear attack, the same M.O. Was it possible that whoever had
attacked her had followed them all the way to England? If it was the same
person, he was growing bold. It was one thing to hit a girl, quite another to
attack a two hundred pound man.

When the paramedics arrived Kevin
was provided with a strong dose of sedatives and taken off to hospital to check
for brain damage. He went peacefully, though Miles could hear him lecturing the
paramedics on the dangers of an unchecked insurgency all the way down the hall.
He was pleased to note that the paramedics seemed to be taking Kevin's comments
very much in stride.

Mattie watched solemnly out the
window as the ambulance carrying Kevin disappeared into the peaty London night.
Her face, always pale, seemed particularly pallid as her fingers twitched at
the drapes.

She lifted her eyes to Miles. “Is
he coming back?”

“He'll be back,” Miles said,
squeezing her shoulder. “It takes a lot more than that to keep a man like Kevin
down.”

By that time the police had
arrived. They were polite but devastatingly unhelpful, and very young. Their
large, rotund hats did nothing to hide their smooth, ruddy-cheeked baby faces.
The previous incident in Los Angeles meant very little to them, and though they
took a full statement from both Miles and Mattie, Miles wasn't left with much
confidence in their detecting abilities. He wanted to view the security tapes
himself, but that wasn't going to happen due to privacy laws. They informed him
that they would let him know the outcome of their investigations in due course.

“You people are fucking useless,”
Mattie swore, expressing the sentiment Miles would like to have imparted
himself, were he not too disciplined. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder
and gave her a nod as the police saw themselves out.

Things got worse when hotel
management became enraged at the bloodstains. Apparently it was not the done
thing to check into a hotel and leave pints of blood soaking into their best
carpets. In spite of Miles' explanations, the bristle-nosed fellow in charge of
such matters seemed convinced that it was all part of some sort of decadent
American rock and roll prank gone awry. In short order, Miles was arranging for
their things to be sent to a new place of residence.

Standing outside on the London
pavement, Mattie sparked a cigarette. Miles didn't bother stopping her. He
almost wanted a cigarette himself.

“We need to go get Cash,” he said.
“Come on.”

Mattie followed obediently, puffing
like a small steam train.

When they reached the after party
it was immediately apparent that Cash was having a wonderful time. She was
surrounded by admiring young men and women, who should perhaps have made him
jealous, but didn't. It was nice to see her enjoying herself and relaxing,
although the near constant flashing of cameras was enough to remind anyone that
there was no real relaxation to be had at a function designed purely to allow
glamorous people to look glamorous.

Mattie looked up at him. “Aren't
you going to get her?”

“Would you mind telling her we need
to leave?”

Mattie slipped into the crowd and
Miles remained on the fringes, watching over Cash. He noticed that she wasn't
drinking, in spite of the fact that it was perfectly legal for her to do so in
the UK. That pleased him greatly. She seemed pleased to see Mattie, but it was
only when she lifted her head and met his eyes that her smile blossomed into
uninhibited pleasure.

He felt warmth suffusing his body
as his heart swelled with feeling. She was so beautiful, so pure and
enthusiastic. She practically skipped through the crowd, taking his forearm in
her hands when she was close enough to do so.

“Is it time to go home?”

He smiled into her eyes. “If you'd
like to leave, a car awaits you, Miss Raine.”

“I'm tired,” she said, running her
hand through her silken golden locks. “I'd like you to take me home.”

As he escorted her from the venue,
Miles almost forgot what had taken place that evening. It wasn't that his concern
for Kevin was diminished in any way, but his pleasure at being with Cash
momentarily eclipsed his concerns. Cash was a light that shone too brightly to
allow thoughts of darkness, at least, for a little while. Once they were on the
road, Miles broke the news as gently as he could.

“We're going to go to a different
hotel this evening.”

She squirmed about, tugging her
dress down where it was trying to ride up indecently. “A different hotel? Why?”

“Because someone jumped Kev, that's
why.” Mattie spoke up before Miles had a chance to put it more delicately. He
shot her a harsh look, but she ignored him blithely.

Cash's eyes went wide with concern.
“Someone hurt Kevin?”

“There was an incident. Kevin is in
hospital, he's going to be okay.”

“There was an incident?” Cash's
voice rose with concern. “What does that even mean?”

“It means someone kicked his ass.”
Again Mattie pre-empted Miles.

“Please, Mattie, shut it,” he
snapped.

“Don't talk to her like that,” Cash
defended her immediately. “She's the only one telling me anything.”

“Very well,” Miles said. “This is
the situation. Someone attacked Kevin, so we're going to stay at a different
hotel this evening. I intend to keep you both safe and Kevin will recover
easily. He isn't badly hurt.”

“Except mentally, you mean,” Mattie
cut in yet again.

“He's having a small flashback, he
will be okay,” Miles reassured Cash.

Cash sat back, her mouth falling
open in despair. “What is happening? Everything... everything is going wrong.”

“You're famous, Cash, shit's going
to happen,” Mattie drawled. “Muscles will take care of it. Let him do his
job...”

“Mattie, please,” Miles interrupted
her. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I can speak for myself.”

“Since when do you give him the
time of day?” Cash looked more disoriented by Mattie's sudden acceptance of
Miles than any of the other news.

“Eh,” Mattie shrugged. “Turns out
he's not so bad.”

“Ladies, please,” Miles said as the
taxi drew around to the back-up hotel. As they entered through the secure
entrance, he was pleased to see that the additional security personnel were
already in place, as was Cash's luggage.

“Why did we have to change hotels?”

She really didn't like to be
shifted around, he was noticing that. Even though she was living in hotels full
time and was about to spend the next two months hopping from city to city, she
liked her schedule. If it got disturbed, she became quite agitated.

“If the same person is behind
Kevin's attack as the break in, it means they know our schedule. They know
where we're supposed to be. By moving, we go off the script. Nobody knows where
we are besides you girls, me and the rest of the security team.”

“Hey, it's a nice place at least,”
Mattie said, settling in and looking comfortable. The décor was much more
modern at the second hotel, with an informal, almost Californian aesthetic. It
was perfect.

Miles was worried that Cash's
agitation might get out of hand, but Mattie's relaxed attitude seemed to rub
off a little and before long Cash and Mattie were showering and getting ready
for bed. Miles made sure that the suite was secure and then retired to his own
room. They were all tired, they were all jet lagged, they all needed sleep.

He was sitting in bed, reading on
his tablet when there was a small knock at his door.

“Miles?” Cash slipped into his
room. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked thin and vulnerable
in her nightshirt.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I, sleep with you?” She asked
the question softly. “I don't mean anything sexual, I just mean... after... I
don't want to sleep alone.”

Miles pushed back the covers. “Get
in, Cash.”

“Thank you,” she said, slipping
into the bed. “I just can't believe Kevin got hurt.”

Miles lay still as she curled up
next to him, her knees drawn up almost to her chest. For once she wasn't being
at all flirtatious, nor was she chatting.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He
stroked her hair off her face and looked down at her with concern.

“I don't know...” she murmured,
trailing off as another knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

“Come in, Mattie,” Miles called.

Mattie pushed the door open a crack
and peeked in, her dark hair falling over her face. “Are you two, you know?”

“We're not doing anything untoward,
Mattie,” Miles said. “What's the matter?”

She inched into the room, shaking
the hair out of her eyes to reveal a shifty, nervous expression. “Nothing,
really. I was just thinking about Kevin.”

“Was he terribly hurt?” Cash sat up
in bed, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“He was pretty rough,” Mattie said.
“Got me to thinking, what if... well...”

Miles sighed inwardly. The bastard
was winning. Whoever was behind the attack on Kevin and on Cash's suite and
probably on Mattie too, had both young women completely terrified.

“It's hard to sleep,” Mattie said.
“Every time I close my eyes...”

“Sleep in here, Mattie,” Cash said.
“With us.”

“There is no way that bed is big
enough for the three of us,” Mattie said. “No offense, Muscles.”

“Sure it is,” Cash said, shifting
over. “Sleep next to me.”

When Mattie continued to stand at
the door one part doubtful and the other part adorable in men's style black
silk pajamas, Miles motioned her over.

“Come on, Ms. Longstockings, it's
bed time.”

And that was how Miles ended up
scrunched on the far side of the bed whilst Cash and Mattie slept in blissful
comfort. Long into the night he lay awake, listening to their quiet breathing.
He didn't mind having them in bed. At least he knew where they were, and any
further attacks would have to go through him. He was unable to sleep for the
feeling that he was very much on the back foot. Someone was out there, hunting
Cash, circling like a cruel cat playing with its prey.

The only consolation, was that
whoever was behind the attacks was deliberately avoiding him. They only struck
when his back was turned. Which, in theory, meant that as long as he never
turned his back on Cash, as long as he never let her out of his sight, she
should be safe.

*
* * * *

For forty-eight hours they were
stuck inside the hotel waiting for news, reluctant to go out because of the
press thronging outside. The paparazzi were stirred up and aggressive. Word of
trouble on the tour had gotten out and there were precious few pictures of Cash
in London. With every passing hour, competition to get a candid shot of her
became more fierce.

“They're like circling sharks,”
Cash said, peeking out of the window. The simple act brought with it a rush of
flashing bulbs.

“Come away from the window,
sweetheart,” Miles said almost absent-mindedly. He was in the process of
attempting to unravel what had happened to Kevin, but like all the other
incidents there was next to no evidence as to what had happened, besides the
obvious results.

“Yes darling, do,” Mattie
snickered.

“Mattie, Kevin isn't here, but
don't let that give you the impression anything goes,” Miles said, looking up
from his phone.

She wrinkled her nose at him, but
she didn't say anything else. He was privately quite pleased with Mattie. When
she felt safe and secure she was actually very well behaved. It was a wonder
what a little structure could do.

Cash, on the other hand, was still
on edge. He could tell that she was worried because she'd completely stopped
flirting with him. Instead she paced around the suite like a pretty caged
tiger, fidgeting endlessly. Usually she would have worked the anxiety off, but
there wasn't much space to dance. He was worried about her. More than that, he
was sad that her native innocence was slowly slipping away before his very
eyes.