Page 16 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Bodyguard

Those blue eyes of his that most women thought were gorgeous, but I just saw insanity in, were on me instantly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“That makes me worry more. Is there something bad going down?”

“I said, don’t fucking worry about it,” he said, his voice low. I could tell he was barely holding it together, so I backed off.

I finished getting ready for bed and was pulling off my robe and getting ready to ride him like every night, when he stopped me.

“Not tonight,” he said and rolled over in bed, his back to me.

Okay. That was the most worrisome thing I’d ever seen. I started to get a T-shirt to wear to bed, but he stopped me.

“Sleep naked like usual. I might fuck you in the night. Just… not now.”

I nodded and got in bed. I couldn’t sleep because I was so worried about what was happening. Was he tired of me? It had been five years. I was twenty-three, so I wasn’t old or anything. But I’d seen him with lots of eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds. Maybe that was more his thing. After five years I still knew very little about him. I didn’t know how old he was or his birthday. I didn’t even know his real name.

He’d shared very little with me.

Jesus. Was I about to be trafficked?

***

I woke up to an empty bed.

I usually slept until twelve or one, since I got in so late at night. Today I’d set an alarm. I’d asked earlier in the week if we could see my mom today, and he’d agreed. I had no clue if he even remembered that.

Though Skeeter tended to remembereverything.

I went ahead and got ready. I’d begged Skeeter for some normal clothes over the years so my mom wouldn’t be upset when she saw me. He liked me to look a certain way, though, when I was seen with him. And that way was like a total skank.

We’d reached a compromise over the years. I’d wear a decent dress that covered more of my body than what he wanted, but he wouldn’t let me wear a bra. And I still had to wear stripper heels and a lot of makeup.

I’d agreed. It wasn’t like I really had a choice, anyway.

I stared in the mirror, thinking. In the five years I’d lived here, everything had followed a pattern. It had been the same thing, within reason, day after day, week after week, month after month. For there to be a difference in the pattern was giving me a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mom had always taught me to listen to my instincts.

I’d taken both psychology and sociology in high school. I knew that humans were highly evolved animals. All animalshave instincts. Animals in the wild know to trust their instincts or they will likely get hurt or die. For instance, if a deer is eating grass near a swamp and suddenly feels as if a predator is nearby, it’s going to run. It doesn’t wait to see if it was right or worry about looking stupid in front of other deer. It just gets out of there before the alligator, human, whatever apex predator is nearby, attacks it.

Humans, on the other hand, have been taught to ignore our instincts. Let’s say you get a strange feeling about a person, but everyone around you insists he or she is a wonderful human being. You might ignore your own instincts for fear of looking foolish in front of others. So, when the person who causes little alarm bells to ring comes to your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you let them in. And that could be how you end up the victim of a serial killer—because you trusted others instead of yourself.

No other animal on Earth is taught to ignore their instincts.

I bit my lip and looked around for a piece of paper and pen. It was time to ask my mom for help. With shaking hands, I wrote a quick note telling her I was worried something bad was going to happen to me. I told her I was living at the Gray Bones’ clubhouse and needed help if she could figure out some way to get it to me. And I told her I’d always love her.

Just as I finished and slipped the paper into the waistband of my thong, Skeeter walked in.

He stared at me. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Shit. “You had said it was okay for us to go see Mom today.”

He grunted and looked distracted. “Yeah. Okay.” He ran a hand over his mouth. He looked nervous. Skeeter never looked nervous. His eyes met mine. “You ready now?”

I nodded. “Can we take her some groceries?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t have time for all of that. I’ll send someone on the regular day.”

“Okay.”

He grabbed my arm, squeezing tightly, and pulled me close. “There are some things that might go down over the next couple of weeks. If we get separated, I will find you. Do you understand? I won’t let you go, Jess. Not ever.”