I wake up in a tangle of arms and legs. Glen is sleeping with his chest against my back, his lips brushing the inside of my neck. Matt is on my other side, his heavy arm slung over my waist. Something stings in my chest when I realise Kenta isn’t here, but I guess it makes sense. He must be on the morning shift.
I wonder what’s going to happen now the threat has been eliminated. Will the guys loosen up? Will they move onto another job? Of course, I’m still going to need some kind of security, but as long as I’m not being stalked, three ex-SAS soldiers probably won’t be necessary. I could hire a regular close protection officer.
The idea makes my stomach turn. If the guys take on other jobs, they’ll be in danger again. They almost died yesterday, and I know this is far from the most dangerous assignment they’ve ever had.
But I know I can’t keep them here with me, either. They’d get bored, chaperoning me on shopping tips and keeping the paps at bay while I head to brunch. The last thing I want is for any of them to get bored.
So I don’t really know where that leaves me.
Matt grunts as I carefully extricate myself from his grasp, slipping out of the sofa bed and padding across the thick carpet to the kitchenette. I’m pouring myself a coffee when I see movement on the balcony. Kenta’s sitting in the sun, a book in his lap. I pour a second cup, then go out to join him.
It’s a shockingly beautiful day in LA. The sky is burning blue, completely cloudless, and the city sprawls out beneath us like a movie backdrop. I can already see the morning gridlock starting, tiny coloured cars backing up in long lines filling the roads. It’s hard to believe that the rest of the world is still trundling along, as if the most horrific event of my life didn’t happen last night. It’s kind of comforting. Life goes on.
I touch the top of Kenta’s head. “Morning,” I say, setting his coffee on the table by his elbow.
He puts down his book. “Morning. How do you feel today, sweetheart?”
I roll out my shoulders, considering. Every muscle in my body is sore, and my stitches are painful and itchy. The sticky nausea from last night is finally gone, though, and my headache isn’t too bad, even under the glaring sunlight. “Hungry,” I decide, and he laughs, pulling out his phone.
“I can get a full English here in twenty minutes.”
“Wow,” I drawl. “you really are an angel. Budge.” I gently push aside his hands and climb into his lap. He looks surprised for a second, then wraps his arms around me, letting me curl up against him like a cat. I turn my face into the soft fabric of his linen shirt, breathing in the scent of spice. “How are you?” I mumble.
He looks out over the view. “I’m doing well,” he says lightly. “Just glad that everybody’s okay.”
I glance up at him. There’s something different about him today. Kenta is always reserved, but he seems more distant than usual, like he doesn’t want to look me in the eye. I catch his face and bring his lips to mine for a quick kiss, but he pulls away too soon. It’s like there’s a wall between us.
I snuggle into his chest, reaching for my coffee, and decide not to push it. I’m not the only one who has a terrible event to recover from; he almost got blown up twice, yesterday. He’s probably trying to process that.
We’re silent for a while, watching the city move beneath us. I feel his heart beating steadily under my ear, and fiddle with the buttons on his cuffs.
“What happens now?” I ask eventually. “Will you guys move on to another job?”
“Well, we’ll all have to discuss it together. We would usually stay with the client for a cooling-off period. You’re going to be at the centre of a media frenzy, and events like this can encourage copycats.”
“Copycats?”
He nods. “Unstable people who see how much attention the stalker has attracted, or how close he got to actually killing you, and are inspired to do the same.”
My heart sinks a bit. “Great,” I mutter. “I thought I was finally done with this.”
He strokes a hand tentatively down my back. “Trust me, the threat is much, much lower than actually having a confirmed stalker. It’s all just a precaution, really.”
“Mm.” I take his hand, and he looks down at his rough fingers tangled with mine. His sigh tickles my hair against my cheek.
“After that—I don’t know. I feel ready for a break. I could do with a holiday.”
I frown. “You don’t have to do that for me. If you want to move on to protecting someone else… well, I’m not going to lie, I’ll be a bit jealous, but I’ll get over it.”
He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be for you. We’re all tired. And if Matt is finally going to do some trauma processing, it would be smart for him to not be holding a gun while he does it. These things often get worse before they get better.”
My insides ache. “What does that mean for him? More flashbacks? More nightmares?”
“Probably.”
“We’ll help him through it.”
“Yes.”
I let my mind wander. “Maybe we could go somewhere, for a bit. I think I need a break, too, from everyone staring at me. I’m sure I could find a private island to rent.” God, just the thought of it is lush. Maybe we could go to the tropics. White sand and fruity drinks and endless days just eating good food, snorkelling, shagging under the sun—
I realise Kenta hasn’t said anything, and check his face. “What do you think?” Maybe the boys’ idea of a holiday is more action-packed. Jet skis, or snowboarding, or whatever. I could do that, too. I think I’d enjoy doing anything with them.
“I think Glen and Matt would like that a lot,” he says carefully.
I frown. That seems like a strange way of putting it. Would he not like that a lot? I’m about to ask him when my phone rings. I’ve been getting notifications all night, but I have it set to only ring for priority numbers. I check the screen and sigh. “Julie.” I swipe to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Briar, darling! Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”
“I was sleeping. The painkillers were doing a number on me.”
“But you’re okay, now? Kenta called last night and said you got stabbed, is that true?”
Wow. She actually sounds concerned. “Yeah. I got some stitches, but I’m fine.”
“Where are the cuts?”
“Uh… my hip and my face?”
“Your face?” She squeals. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Where on your face? Send me a picture. Go on video chat right now.”
“Yeah, no. It’s on my cheek.”
She heaves out a relieved breath. “Cheek. Okay. Cheek, I can work with. We’ll play it off as a warrior-princess, Lara Croft sort of look. Thank God he didn’t get your nose. You have the best nose in the business.”
Ah. I see. She doesn’t actually care at all. She’s just checking her product isn’t too damaged to be sold. I rub my eyes. “What did you want, Julie?”
“To discuss how we’re going to handle the news of the kidnapping, of course! I’ve been just flooded with requests to interview. Not just magazines, but real news stations. I can’t keep them on hold much longer, the story will get stale.”
I sigh. I really don’t want to, but I’m going to have to face this eventually. I guess I should get it over with. “Fine. Come to the suite.”
She hums. “Oh, I’m out shopping, babe. You should come join me. Ambrose, eleven o’clock? We can work all of this out over mimosas.”
“Not Ambrose. That place is a fishbowl. All the walls are made of glass. And I can’t have mimosas, I’m on pain medication.”
I can practically hear her frown down the line. “Well, it’s a little early for Nobu—”
“I don’t want expensive sushi. I want something cheap and fatty.” She’s shocked into silence. I turn to Kenta. “I’m sure you’ve done shady business in LA before, haven’t you? D’you know any private spots we can meet? And I can get actual food with carbs in?”
His lips curl up. “I’ll send you a postcode, Julie,” he says, raising his voice so she can hear him.
“Perfect.” I press a kiss to his cheek, then say goodbye to Julie and hang up. “I should shower,” I mumble, slipping off Kenta’s lap. “And make myself look semi-presentable.”
He nods. “I’ll wake the others up.”
I frown. “Why? X is gone. Do I really need more than one guard taking me to breakfast?”
He blinks. “One of us should be fine, yes.”
“Then… why do we need to wake them up?”
He looks confused. “You want to take me? Alone?”
“Yes, you weirdo. Even if they were awake, I’d pick you to come with me.”
I really would. I get different things from each man. Comfort and gentleness from Glen. Fight and strength from Matt.
But from Kenta—
I get steadiness. Calm. Support. Both Glen and Matt like to shield me from things that are painful, and I understand why. They’ve seen so much pain. And right down to their cores, they’re protectors.
But Kenta wants to see me work through obstacles. He really believes I can do anything. He makes me believe I can do anything. So, yeah. I need Kenta, right now.
