“Holy shit! Trent Elrige!” James said on a gasp.
Abe winced, but Trent just gave a sarcastic laugh, covering up James’s unfortunate lapse. “Oh, ha ha, Dom. Don’t start that shit again after everything we’ve been through. You’re the one who called me about tonight.”
Abe nearly snorted. This acting shit was harder than he’d expected, but Trent…Trent was amazing. He couldn’t remember if the man had won an Oscar yet, but he’d definitely deserve one by the end of the night for the way he was flawlessly ad-libbing.
“Of course,” James quickly said. “I just thought you’d feel more at ease if someone was acting like an adoring fan.”
Trent slipped his glasses back on and smirked. “Nah. I can enjoy one night as just a normal guy. No fans, please. Just friends.”
“Nothing but friends here,” James quickly said.
With that, Abe did roll his eyes, though he was facing Trent so James couldn’t see it. If this guy was an expert con artist, then he was thrown off his game with the presence of Trent. Not that Abe could really blame him. If he hadn’t had dinner with Trent already, he’d probably be stumbling as much as James or worse.
“Dom was just telling me that he’s been called into the office,” Abe said.
Trent winced. “Oh, that sucks. Is it a new job?”
“No, just some paperwork.” He paused and his grin grew. “But you both could come with me before we go out to dinner. Trent, you could check out where all the bodyguards train and meet. That could be useful for a future role, right?”
“Sure, I’d love to see Ward Security. I’ve heard so much about it,” Trent easily agreed.
Abe chanced a glance over at James and the man was practically bouncing in his excitement. And why wouldn’t he be? Not only did he have Abe in his clutches, which would break his brother as he wanted, but he also had his hands on one of the hottest actors in Hollywood. This had to be a freaking dream come true for the con artist.
“Get ready,” Dom whispered in his ear, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. He didn’t know where Dom was, but he was watching over him, keeping him safe. And even though he was technically in James’s clutches, Abe still felt safe.
Yeah, get ready, he thought, for a day in the life of Dominic fucking Walsh.
“Trent Elrige! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
“What the fuck?” James muttered as they all turned to stare at the large man in a dark hoodie pulled up to obscure his face. He looked like a mountain.
“How many stalkers do you have?” Abe said, backpedaling into James.
“Too many,” Trent grumbled.
The enormous man pulled a gun from behind his back and started to wave it in their direction. Some people screamed and scattered in various directions. Abe tried not to wince and mentally prayed that they had a couple of minutes before someone called the cops. Abe had met Sven Larsen only once before, but he was a truly frightening figure without a gun. He certainly didn’t want the bodyguard to go to jail for brandishing a weapon in public.
“Jesus!” James shouted. Abe saw him start to reach behind him for what he was sure was a gun. He couldn’t let him pull a gun on the other man. The “stalker” was a Ward Security employee, and he couldn’t risk James hurting him.
“No, there are too many people here. Someone could get hurt,” Abe argued.
James looked at him for a second like he’d lost his mind. Yeah, not the best argument when someone was barreling down on them with a weapon, but it was all he could think of.
“There!” Trent pointed toward a black BMW sedan parked nearby. “That’s my car with my driver. Run! Hurry!” As he shouted, Trent gave James two hard pushes, knocking him off balance so that he was moving toward the car, if only to steady himself. Abe started running ahead of them, certain that James would follow to keep him under his control.
“Trent! I’m going to get you! You can’t escape me, Trent!” the stalker continued to shout, following after them.
Abe reached the car first. Jerking open the rear door, he dove inside. He kept scooting until he was seated behind the driver. A pair of bright blue eyes met his in the rearview mirror and winked at him. The man’s normally curly brownish-blond hair was pulled tightly back at the nape of his neck and he was dressed in a dark suit, but there was no mistaking Noah Keegan. Abe had been lucky enough to meet Noah when he’d popped by Ward Security once before. When they’d cooked up this scheme, Rowe had assured him that he’d get his guy with the gun off the street before the cops arrived and that his best driver would be behind the wheel. He’d just never expected it to be Rowe’s own boyfriend.