Wicked Bad Boys (73 page)

“
L
et me handle this
,” Johnny said to me. “And don’t go anywhere this time.”

“I’ll help,” Fred said.

Johnny turned and stood ahead of me as Kevin made his way to us.

“Why are you still here?” Kevin asked, looking around Johnny’s body to make eye contact with me. His voice was low enough not to cause a scene in the wide open hallway, but his harsh tone was clear. “You should be at the airport by now.”

Johnny stood his ground, and seemed like he would say something just as cutting. Fred raised his arm to stop them both.

“Kevin, I think we’re fortunate Amanda is still here. Just hear me out for a second. We worked out a plan of attack before we left LA. We even went so far as to stage their cover as a couple, using the media. Let’s follow it through. I could use Amanda’s help on this job. The six remaining events will be larger crowds, and Amanda has already shown us she can think on her feet. Let’s keep her on the team and see this to the end.”

Fred’s words were encouraging. I knew it wasn’t my fault that I had ended up leaving Johnny vulnerable on stage, but I was still harboring some guilt. It felt good to get some credit.

As if reading my mind, Johnny protectively wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We need her, Kevin. And besides, she’s my tour girlfriend, remember?”

I noticed the way Johnny suggested this romantic relationship act would only be during the tour. It should not have bothered me—after all, I wasn’t looking for anything permanent. For a moment, though, I felt a pang of something unfamiliar in my gut. Sadly, there was not any time to assess it, with Kevin glowering at me.

“So what’s the verdict, Kevin?” Fred continued. “Can we keep her on the team? If so, we all need to go over those tactics I had mentioned earlier.”

He shook his head and let out a long breath before answering, “Fine.”

“And Amanda,” Fred continued. “What about you? Are you willing to stay?”

Fred was my new hero. I felt some solace that at least one person among them acknowledged I had a choice in staying or going. I started to nod, and suddenly remembered the conversation I had earlier with Gary. We had agreed to meet in a few days to decide on the MMA network TV opportunity. I considered mentioning it, and in hindsight I should have. At minimum, I could get through to Kevin that I was turning down other opportunities to be here, and didn’t need this roller coaster ride, or to constantly be under threat of termination at a moment’s notice. I decided against raising it. And then I glanced up at Johnny, and found all the convincing I needed to share my decision.

“Yes, I am.”

Johnny beamed at me, not bothering to contain his excitement.

“Excellent.” Even Fred seemed relieved.

“Great,” Kevin add, glaring at me for a split second. “We’d better get back up for our luggage. We need to get over at the airport soon.”

He turned, and the three of us followed him to the elevators. Johnny did not move his arm from my shoulder the entire time. A short while later, we all were downstairs, ready to get to the airport and back to Los Angeles. The road crew and security team had been loaded into two limo-busses with the luggage, and went ahead of us. Fred’s European FBI staff had assisted during the Greek Islands stop, but were not continuing on. Fred, Larry, Kevin, Johnny and I waited inside until our limousine arrived. By then, with all the activity, a small crowd of fans had heard about Johnny checking out of the hotel, and had gathered outside to take pictures. I slid on my oversized sunglasses, took Johnny’s extended arm, and exited the hotel with him. He smiled at the crowd and waved, and when we stood at the limo door, he nudged me and I waved as well before hopping into the limo.

Johnny’s strong hands gripped my hips as I climbed into the limo, and a wave of heat flooded my body. I reminded myself that this time needed to be different. I was going to have to resist my desires if I had any chance of redeeming myself for this assignment. At minimum, I owed it to Fred to keep things professional going forward. There was also the issue of Johnny wanting more. Sleeping with him would only distract me again, and that was something neither of us could afford anymore.

Fred, Larry and Kevin sat facing us in the back of the limo. Fred used the time to fill us in on what they learned about the incident on the island.

“So there was security footage?” I asked.

“Yes,” Fred answered. “The person who delivered the basket to Johnny’s room was female, as we suspected. She’s clever though. She hid her face with a large hat on all the hallway footage. We still don’t have much in the way of her identity, but we can confirm she was there.”

“Couldn’t you match up the clothes she wore with other video footage from the night?” I asked.

“We’re working on that.”

“And what about how she got here? Didn’t the Sheikh’s guards keep a log of who came on the island along with their IDs? If they have a list, then you’d at least have something to work with, even if she used fake credentials.”

“We’re already on it. They supplied us with the guest list and event staff. We sent it to Jenny and Lucas. They’ll begin clearing the names today.”

“Is there any chance she’s staff?” Kevin asked.

“It’s doubtful. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, to begin with. We also showed the footage to the island catering managers and the event coordinator. None of them recognized her from her clothing. Also, there was no record of the basket being logged in as a delivery. Someone took it to the island themselves.”

“She also could have just paid that person you saw on camera to deliver it,” Johnny added.

“It’s possible, but doubtful. This unsub’s profile indicates a high level of organizing control. She would not leave much to chance, or trust others to complete a task on her behalf. And the fact that she made it onto the island…it tells us she’s adaptable, inventive, and more importantly, has the resources to travel from Los Angeles to Greece. She’s serious, and has the means to follow through on her threats.”

“That’s not good,” Kevin said. He seemed genuinely worried.

“It’s not. This threat is real, folks.”

We all paused, and a quiet fell over us as Fred’s statement sank in.

“What about fingerprints?” I asked when the sobering moment passed.

“Everything in the basket, as well as the basket itself, is coming back with us for testing. It will be a few days before we have definitive DNA results. If there are any useable prints at all, we’ll have those within a day of touching down in Los Angeles. It doesn’t seem like it, but this incident is not all doom and gloom.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, the stalker made an appearance. She came into the public domain, not just behind some internet server. She’s out of her comfort zone now. It’s only a matter of time before she makes a mistake and leaves a clue behind.”

“Or I get blown up,” Johnny said, seeming uneasy.

I whipped my head over to look at him. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Let’s talk about this additional measure to reduce Johnny’s vulnerability while he’s performing,” Fred continued. “Amanda, what do you think about being onstage with Johnny?”

I turned back to face him. “Onstage? Like patrolling?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking more low-key.”

“How do you mean?”

“Actually, I think you could make a believable backup performer.”

“What?” Kevin and I both screeched simultaneously.

Johnny snickered. I shot him a dirty look. “I think it’s a bad idea. Sorry Fred. I don’t sing. I don’t play any musical instruments. And I can’t dance.”

“For once, we agree on something,” Kevin added.

“Listen,” Fred said, “I know, it’s not Amanda’s thing, but there are several advantages.”

I crossed my arms and waited.

Larry picked up where Fred left off, as if they had planned to tag-team this pitch. “You would be onstage, Amanda, and could see if anything unusual was happening, from the best vantage point.”

“Okay, that’s one thing. Go on.”

“I could watch you dance in a miniskirt,” Johnny added, throwing me a wink.

I scowled and I nudged him on the arm with my shoulder. “Not helping,” I warned him.

“Also, if something does happen, you’ll be close enough to protect Johnny,” Larry continued.

“Yes, please take care of me, Amanda,” Johnny said. He paid no attention to Fred, Larry or Kevin, and was not taking any of it very seriously.

I needed to shut this option down fast. “I hate to break it to you, gentlemen, but I’m not a stage performer. I can fight, kick, punch, and put someone into a submission. Singing and dancing, no can do. We need to come up with something else.”

“Can you lip sync?” Fred asked.

“No.”

“Can you pretend to lip sync?” Johnny jumped in again. We all looked over at him. “We could turn off her mic. That way, she can sing, but no one would hear her.”

Fred and Larry seemed to like the idea, both of them nodding approvingly.

“Wait, wait.” I held up my hands. “Aren’t I supposed to be Johnny’s girlfriend? We just did a photo shoot and a magazine interview? What was the point of that?”

“Who says you can’t be both?” Johnny asked. “You could be my backup singer-turned-girlfriend. You know, our eyes met across the stage. You were singing to me, I was singing to you, there were fireworks, it was magical!” He was being facetious and overdramatic, playing up his words with hand motions for extra effect. It thoroughly annoyed me.

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “I thought we met at a coffee shop? That’s what you told the high-strung magazine lady, remember?”

Johnny laughed. “Maybe you’re my girlfriend-turned-singer, then. You worked in a coffee shop in Hollywood, and of course, after we hit it off, you admitted you always wanted to be a singer. It’s so cliché, the story practically writes itself.”

Kevin lifted a hand to stop the craziness. “This is serious, Johnny. It’s not drama camp.”

Kevin’s right,” Fred concurred. “It’s serious. We’re raising this suggestion because putting someone on stage gives us a tactical advantage. It mitigates the threat to Johnny without making it obvious to the stalker.”

Logic always prevailed with Fred. Having me on stage was a better option than four burly men in suits, intimidating the hell out of everyone.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said.

“You’ll be a backup dancer?” Johnny asked.

“Nice try. No, I’ll do the pretend singing thing.”

“Excellent,” Fred replied.

“You know,” Johnny started. “There’s one part in the show where the backup singers come out and dance with me. It’s all freestyle. So, technically, you’ll have to dance too.”

“Great,” I groaned.

Before I could argue that I needed to be excused for that particular number, we were at the airport. Kevin was the first to step out, but not before saying, “This had better work.”

I took a breath. I did not dare to speak.

The rest of us piled out of the limo, and followed him inside the airport terminal. Fred and Larry flanked us as we walked through the quieter section of the airport reserved for passengers of private flights. Our bags had been checked outside, so we made it through airport security fairly quickly. This time, our flight was on schedule, and the larger charter plane was ready for everyone to board, including the road crew, band members, FBI and security staff.

We got on without having to wait for very long. This plane looked more like a luxury commercial jet. It had six roomier pod-styled seats up front. They were the types that were self-contained, and installed on the diagonal, where individual passengers could elevate their legs and stretch out completely. At the back was seating for the crew, which looked more like the usual first class chairs. Johnny and I picked the two pods that were closest to the front.

“Comfy?” He asked as I settled into my seat.

“Yes.” I looked up at him. “I just need sleep. I’m so tired.”

“Same here,” he said, bending forward to kiss my hair. “Well, rest up.”

I
t was
a long flight back to LA. I ended up napping almost the entire way home, except for the couple of times I had used the restroom—alone thankfully, as Johnny was asleep both times that I had woken up. I must have got nearly fourteen hours of comfortable rest this time.

At one point, as the plane was equipped with Wi-Fi, I had opened the email app on my phone to check for messages. I quickly typed out an email to Gary, explaining I wouldn’t be back in Miami for up to a few weeks, and asked if he could hold off our chat about the MMA commentator gig until then. My finger had hovered over the send button for a few minutes. I mentally debated whether I was making the right choice. I set the phone down in my lap and looked over at Johnny’s face. He was still asleep, his gorgeous face and stubbled jaw resting on a pillow.

In less than a month, I would return to my normal life in Miami. It had been less than a week that I had flown into LA, and everything seemed so different for me. This contract had turned into much more than just a security gig. And it had something to do with the sleeping man beside me. For the first time in a long while, when it came to my emotions, I was careening out of control. I felt I was falling face-first down a very slippery slope. If I couldn’t find some way to hit the brakes, and soon, there could be one or more broken hearts left exposed. And love was not an option for someone like me.

I re-read the email to Gary and hit send. Regardless of what happened next, I knew that having a job interview lined up back in Miami would be motivation to get this job done and move on with my life. Johnny was infatuated with me. It was obvious to everyone around us, and the only way to stop his infatuation from growing into something more dangerous was to leave as soon as the job was finished.

At some point after sending the email, I shut the phone off again, rested my head back on my pillow, and drifted off to sleep.

“
A
manda
?” Someone shook my shoulder, gently prodding me from my dreams.

I opened my eyes. It was Johnny. “We’re back in LA.”

I sat up and looked out the window. We were on the tarmac. Everyone had already begun to disembark, and Kevin stood at the cockpit door, checking his watch.

“I’d better not keep you all waiting,” I said.

I stood up and wobbled slightly. He instantly reached out a hand and set it on my back, steadying me. His touch, innocent as it was, got my heart racing and the rest of my body yearning for more. I thanked him for the save, grabbed my hand luggage, and followed him off the plane. He and Kevin did not exchange a word between each other. I felt a pang of guilt—it was clear I contributed to the strain in their relationship. I put it out of my mind just as quickly as the feeling surfaced—soon enough I would be gone, and they could work their shit out.

As it was late at night, most everyone went their separate ways once the luggage arrived. Fred announced that he and Larry would take the evidence from the gift basket to their field office. They planned to be back at the house in the morning. The road crew and security members were picked up by two large buses. Even Kevin took a separate limo and left just after we did. There was just Johnny and me—alone in our own limo.

“Feel like a bite to eat?” He asked, looking over at me when the vehicle took off.

“Maybe, but I’m so out of it. I don’t know if I should be starting the day, or ending it.”

“Welcome to life on the time zone highway,” he told me, squeezing my knee. “How about if I just pick up some takeout?”

“I can’t promise I’ll have much to eat, but sure.”

He told the driver to swing around to some all-night salad place—something I was sure could only exist in Los Angeles—and quickly went in to get a few dishes. We were back on the road in a few minutes, and at Johnny’s house soon after that. The driver brought our bags in, and Johnny took the food to the kitchen. I excused myself to go upstairs. I could use a long shower.

“What the…?” my voice trailed off as the bedroom door swung open.

I was overwhelmed by the sight before me. The room was full of flowers. Bouquets and potted arrangements, all with my favorite hydrangea blossoms. I stepped into the room and slowly turned to take it all in. The room and everything in it was infused with the fragrances. It was the most stunning thing I had ever seen. I still had no idea how Johnny could have possibly known what my favorite flowers were, but that question was drowned out by his sweet gesture.

I dropped my purse on the bed, and leaned forward to breathe in the faint scent of the nearest bouquet.

“So you like it?”

I turned at Johnny’s voice and lit up with a huge smile. He casually leaned against the doorway, and before I could think, I was across the room, in his arms. “This is incredible! Yes, they’re gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

“You’re more than welcome,” he said, running a hand down my back. “I figured it was the least I could do, after all the crap you’ve had to go through because of me.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” I answered, pulling away when I realized how close we were. “This is amazing, but you don’t have to give me gifts like this for doing my job.”

I turned and took in the scene again, still slightly in disbelief. I had never really been a flowers kind of girl. I didn’t think I was, but standing in the middle of this room, it was pretty spectacular to be pampered this way. I couldn’t recall any guy even treating me to flowers—then again, I hadn’t let that many of them get close enough for this kind of treatment.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, suddenly with a more serious look on his face. “I would do just about anything to see you light up like this.”

He moved a hand up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. I was suddenly unsure of myself, of what I should say or do next. He was getting too close, vaulting over the walls around me. It made me feel exposed. I could feel it compounding. Every over-the-top sweet gesture, dashing smile, and friendly joke made me weaker. And his touch. Oh God, his touch.

“There’s something else,” he said. “Hopefully it’s not too much.”

He reached into his pocket and produced a small, black, velvet-covered box. A rush of anxiety flooded my stomach as he took a step toward me and held it out in his palm.

“You really shouldn’t have bought me gifts like this, Johnny.”

“Just take it.”

“I don’t think I can accept it.” My eyes were glued to Johnny’s face, afraid to look down at the box. Afraid of what would be inside.

“How would you know if you don’t see what it is first?”

“I can’t.”

“Just take it. Please. Trust, remember?”

I reached out and took it. “Thanks.”

“You’re supposed to open it.” He smiled gently, waiting for me to do something.

I nodded and pried the box open, slowly revealing what was tucked inside. It took my breath away. It was a rose gold oval-shaped pendant on a matching chain. There was a delicate imprint in the metal, creating an elegant design that wrapped around to the back. I flipped it over in my fingers, and realized there was a latch on the side.

“It’s a locket?” I said, processing my thoughts out loud.

Johnny nodded. He looked on as I used a fingernail to open the tiny latch and flip it open.

I gasped and covered my mouth with my free hand. “Oh, my God…”

My eyes flew up to Johnny. I could barely process anything as I looked back and forth between him and the picture inside. “That’s my—” My voice broke off. “But how did you—”

The tiny picture inside was a familiar one, and very dear to me. It was a picture of my father, taken about a year before he passed away. I kept Dad with me at all times on my phone screensaver. It was also the only photo I kept beside my bed at home in Miami.

“I hope it wasn’t too much of an intrusion. I noticed the picture when you turned your phone on a few times. And I noticed it again on your website—,” he cleared his throat, “—when we were looking into whether to hire you. I thought this would make it easier for you to take him with you.”

I shook my head and covered my mouth again, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. I kept staring at the picture. “Thank you, Johnny. I really…I don’t know what to say.”

He stepped closer, and brought a hand up to cradle the side of my face. I closed my eyes at his gentle touch, letting myself melt into its warmth. Moments later, his lips came down and briefly pressed against mine.

“I’m glad you like it.”

I looked down at it again, still open in my hand. “I do.”

“Great. Well, enjoy your night, Amanda.” He smiled, gave me a peck on the cheek, and left my room. I did not follow him out, and realized he left for a good reason—it would make me want him more.