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“You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being an ass,” she snaps.
“Not the first time I’ve been called that.”
“For the past six months, you’ve barely said anything to me and now you’re barking orders at me. I kinda liked you better when you didn’t talk.” She zips up her suitcase and places it on the floor, then looks at me. “You’re dismissed.”
I roll my eyes regardless of how disrespectful she’s being. Right now, she’s acting like a spoiled little brat who’s not getting her way, and I’m two seconds from telling her as much. Instead of speaking my mind, I walk away. It’s easier considering I have no idea how long we’ll be stuck in this beach house together.
When I enter my room, she slams her door shut. I take my guns out of the chest holster and set them on the nightstand. Unzipping my duffel, I pull out the ammo that I packed along with my clothes, then call Mr. Montgomery.
“Thanks for the updates as you traveled,” he says.
“No problem. We’ve made it to our destination without any issues.”
There’s silence for a moment. “How’s Piper? She understands the rules?”
“Yes, she’s been made aware. Also, she’s very pissed.”
Mr. Montgomery chuckles. “I figured as much. Anyway, I have a few people trying to track down this man. I’ll let you know what we find out.”
“Sounds good.”
“Please keep my daughter safe, Tristan.”
“I pledged my life to protect this country, and I take my duty of keeping Piper safe just as seriously, sir.”
“Appreciate that. I’ll stay in touch.”
After the call ends, I change clothes and replay everything that happened tonight. If Jack would’ve had a gun or a knife, he could’ve easily hurt Piper or someone else. The fact that he chose a very intimate setting to pull this is psychotic, almost as if he wanted the attention it would bring. Maybe he did.
Instead of climbing in bed, I go downstairs and check every door and window to make sure they’re secure.
Piper may be a twenty-one-year-old brat, but she doesn’t deserve this. While I don’t completely understand her life as an influencer and probably never will, I respect her work ethic and how determined she is to be successful.
She doesn’t need a job considering how wealthy her family is, but she chooses to record, edit, and post videos almost daily. Over the past few years she’s made a name for herself and has become an internet sensation. The girl has her own merchandise and sayings trademarked. She’s appeared on TV shows, been a featured guest on celebrity podcasts, and gets paid to attend birthday parties for the elite. Companies send her ridiculous amounts of free products with the hopes that she’ll mention it on her channel or in her Instagram stories. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. Most of it flies over my head.
My job is to keep her out of trouble, protect her from psychos, and make sure she doesn’t get herself in dangerous situations. She’s not aware of her surroundings most of the time, and feels safe on the streets of New York when she shouldn’t. Piper’s a pretty girl, very recognizable, has a cult following, and views the world through rose-colored glasses. Meanwhile, I’m jaded with trust issues wrapped in PTSD.
I have a feeling Jack won’t be the last person who tries to attack her. Piper’s just too naive to realize it.
CHAPTER THREE
PIPER
DAY 1
The moment I wake up, dread rolls through me. I slept like garbage, for many reasons, but mostly because of the cheap scratchy sheets on this lumpy bed. Not to mention, I’m covered in sweat. If all of that wasn’t bad enough, I feel like there’s bugs crawling on me from the windows being open all night.
I’m living in a literal hell.
I head to the bathroom and scrub my face, then readjust my bun. Since I only grabbed what could fit in my carry-on, I don’t have my normal essentials. If Tristan doesn’t find a way for me to get the things I need, I’ll cry. Wearing only a thin pair of shorts and a T-shirt, I grab my camera, then head downstairs. I hope there’s good news waiting for me. If my stalker’s been caught, that means we can leave, and I can go back to my comfy air-conditioned apartment. But I’m not holding my breath.
“Morning,” Tristan says shirtless, but doesn’t turn around. His back is sweaty as if he’d been working out. He’s at the stove cooking, which means we must have groceries now.
“Hello,” another man’s voice says, catching me off guard and making me jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s a younger version of Tristan.
Tristan spins around with a skillet of eggs. “This is my brother, Easton. He went to the store for us.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “I didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve made a list.”
