10
EPIPHANY
“What’s going on?” I walk down the stairs, my hands busy plaiting my hair.
Porter looks up from the monitors, holding his hand out to me. “Come here.”
I think he’s going to pull me into his arms, maybe kiss me some more, which is really all I want to do nonstop for the foreseeable future, but he doesn’t. I’m sure if I took time to think about what we just did, I’d find something wrong with it—or with me—but right now I feel so good, flying high on endorphins with no desire to come down.
He guides me to the chair and points at the monitors. “Watch these and tell me what you see.”
I shake my head. “What’s going on?”
“The van’s back, and we found a tracker in your trainers.”
All my endorphins drain out of me as I put my eyes on the monitors. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I can’t believe Claudine, if this is her, is so obsessed she will risk jail time or death.
Well, I guess she can’t avoid prison—that road has already been crossed.
“Are we in danger?” I glance over at Porter, who is strapping weapons on to his body.
“Don’t know, baby. But I won’t let anything happen to you.” He looks up from what he is doing. “Is there anything on the monitors?”
“No. Nothing.”
He walks out front with a plate and comes back with charred meat, tossing it on the island. Then he shuts and locks the front door, before shutting metal shutters over the kitchen window. “Keep your eyes on the monitors, especially the ones in the upper right corner. If you see any movement, yell.”
Then he walks into the back bedroom, the sound of shutters closing there, before he climbs the stairs and protects the window upstairs. I turn around and look as he comes back down the stairs. He shakes his head. “Eyes on the monitor, baby. Not on me.”
“There’s nothing happening.”
“Good.” He leans down and kisses my temple. “Are you hungry?”
“I was, but not so much now.” I look up at him through my lashes.
He takes my hand and pulls me out of the seat, spinning me out and then pulling me down onto his lap after he takes my chair. I wrap my arms around his neck as at the same time he puts one hand between my thighs. His eyes travel over my chest before fixing on the monitors. “I’m sorry I did that to you. I shouldn’t have marked you like that.”
I glance down at the myriad of bruises decorating my skin. I was so overly stimulated with Lee behind me while pleasuring Case with my mouth; I hadn’t realized Porter was sucking small hickeys all over my chest. “It’s okay. I’m a whiz with coverup.”
“Still.” He presses another kiss against my temple but doesn’t look at me. “I had no right to mark you as mine.”
“You didn’t?” Why is he saying this to me? Does he not want me after this is over?
The phone rings. “Yeah.”
I can hear Lee’s deep tone, but I can’t make out what he is staying with the receiver pressed against Porter’s head.
“I locked everything down, but I’ll see you when you pull up.” He nods and pushes some buttons on the keyboard, changing the view of some cameras before hanging up. “Roger that.”
“What’s going on?”
Porter’s eyes narrow on one camera, but when he speaks his tone is nonchalant—almost blasé—which reminds me that these men who just gave me the most intense pleasure of my life are three hardened soldiers who have been involved in altercations I can’t even imagine.
Yes, I’m in the public eye, but my fan base is very specific and generally, not dangerous.
Porter speaks to me now as if he is doing something mundane, like editing a video and pointing out all the lighting problems, not facing a life and death situation. “They ran the van off the road. Two guys fled on foot, both armed. Claudine was in the van and is now in our custody. They have to wait on the sheriff's department to arrive before they can leave the scene.”
“The men are armed? Are Lee and Case okay?”