Closer, The Guarding Her Series, Book Four, page 1
GUARDING HER BOOK 4
ANNA BROOKS
Nobody gets in their way and nothing will stop them.
These are the men of Royal Ace Security.
Copyright © 2018 Anna Brooks
Published by Anna Brooks
Cover design by Cover Couture
Editing by Editing4Indies
Proofreading by Kimberly Holm
Formatting by Champagne Book Design
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Notes and stuff
Previews
Other Books
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
For Piper.
Thank you for your advice, your humor, and your friendship. I love you.
(Oh, and the magic number is zero! As it should be.)
Chapter 1
Gio
It happens in a crowded mall. The one thing I’ve been dreading and dreaming about at the same time. Years have passed without a single word from her; no emails, no texts, no writing in the sky. Almost a decade without my best friend. But when I hear her laugh, it’s like she never left.
It’s still melodic and beautiful, quiet and sweet, just like everything else about her.
I want to pretend I can just keep walking, but I know I’ll only make it about four steps before I turn back around. So at two, I stop.
“What’s wrong?” Billie asks me. Putting her hand on my bicep, she tilts her head, narrowing her bright blue eyes with concern. She’s my best friend’s girl, and one of only two people on the planet who sees through my bullshit.
The other one is standing about ten feet away from me. I don’t answer Billie because I can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence right now. I slowly turn around and stop when I see the back of Whitney’s head, her hair black like a raven. A flurry of activity surrounds me—shoppers, power walkers, women getting makeup lessons and testing perfume, kids yelling and crying… but much like when I used to fight, everything around me vanishes.
All I see is her.
The noises fade until they’re muted, and my vision tunnels until at the end of it is the woman who gave me a lifetime of memories in only four short years. Her hair is longer than it’s ever been, still shiny and thick, hanging almost to her heart-shaped ass. Her hips seem a little wider in her black pants, but she looks fucking fantastic. When she turns, her profile takes my breath away.
She’s talking to a co-worker, and when she smiles, I feel it from across the makeup counter. That smile always made everything better. It calmed me before a fight, made me laugh when I was pissed, and gave me clarity when I was confused.
She did it by just being her. Real and totally mine in a way nobody else has ever been or will be.
So when she left me with a fucking text and no real explanation, I lost it.
A flood of memories chokes me, and I actually gasp for air. I close my eyes and see her jumping up from behind the couch with a water gun in her hand. I remember her running away from me after she threw pasta at my head. I can hear her screeching when I threw her over my shoulder. Can feel her weight on top of me when we fell asleep together.
But what I can’t do is take a step forward. I desperately want to because I want to yell at her. I want to hold her. I want to bend her over the countertop and fuck her into submission so I can finally let go of all the rage that’s built up inside me because of her. Maybe then I’d feel like I have some control again.
And like one of those stupid cheesy ass movies she used to make me watch with her, she turns her head and her big brown eyes find mine. Her full, pink lips part, and her hand goes to her throat.
Yeah, I can barely breathe either.
But when a man with ripped jeans and scraggly blond hair steps right in front of her with an aggressive stance and his hands balled into fists at his sides, I move. “Really, Whitney? A fucking restraining order. Are you kidding me?” He pounds his fist on the glass, rattling the makeup samples. “After everything I’ve done for you and—”
“You need to leave.” Her voice is shaky, and she takes a step back.
When he lunges over the counter, screaming obscenities, and tries to grab her, I reach him just in time to grab him by the throat and slam him against the wall. If she filed a restraining order against him, there is no way I’m going to risk him being able to touch her. It’s not like I’d allow it even if she didn’t. Nobody else gets their hands on her with me around.
A bunch of girly shit hanging on a display falls to the ground with a loud clatter. He struggles and brings his hand around enough to hit me on the side of my head, but I duck away so he only clips me. With my free hand, I land a blow to his stomach, and he hunches over. “Don’t try that again.”
He glares at me as his lips turn purple, then he brings his eyes to one side and spits at Whitney. “You’re a fucking bitch, you stupi—”
I bring him forward, then slam him against the wall, before throwing him to the ground and pinning him. “One more word and I’ll break your face.”
A crowd has gathered, and I find Billie, concern etched all over her.
“I called the cops, Whitney.” Her co-worker and longtime friend, Gwen, tells her as she puts an arm around her.
I glance behind me to make sure Whitney’s okay. Her face is ashen, and she nods, lost in a trance. I have to take my eyes off her because this asshole beneath me starts to struggle. “Chill.”
“Fuck you. And fuck you!” He turns his head and screams at Whitney. Then I do what I said I would. I punch him in the face and break his nose. He screams, and I let him bring his hands up to cover the blood. “You broke my fucking nose!”
“I told you if you said another word, I’d break your face.” I lean down, and warn him, “I never make a threat I don’t follow through with, so remember that the next time you even think about so much as looking at her. Because I guarantee I’d have fun kicking your ass and making you have to eat through a fuckin’ tube.”
The promise in my voice must give him reason to calm the fuck down because he relaxes. I continue to hold him down until the cops get here a few minutes later. I hand him over, and one of them cuffs him while the other walks over to Whitney.
I follow him and instinctually grab her arm to pull her against me. I might hate her for what she did, but I never stopped loving her, and I will never not protect her with everything that I am. She collides with my chest and rests one hand there while the other wraps around my waist. Her entire body trembles, and I put my lips to the top of her head, the familiar smell of vanilla and the silk of her skin make my heart skip. “You’re okay, cara,” I assure her. “You’re okay.”
With her face against my neck, she nods and her breath evens out even though it’s still slightly shaky. This shouldn’t feel so natural, though, after so many years. It was like this from the beginning, but with the way things were left between us, there should be more hesitation. She melts into me just like old times, so I don’t question it.
“Can you tell me what this was about?” the police officer asks her.
She clears her throat. “He got served today.”
“A restraining order ?”
“Yes.”
The thought of why she needed that begin to sink in. I tense so drastically, muscles I haven’t used in years tighten.
“Well, even if you didn’t want to, he’s going to be charged with violating it.”
Her fingers dig into my side, and she whispers, “I would want to anyway.”
“Good.” He offers a sympathetic smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get your statement.”
“Of course.”
As she’s talking to the officer, I give her hip a little squeeze and walk over to Billie. “Who is that?”
“An old friend.”
She smiles, and there’s an evil, all-knowing glint in her eyes. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“She’s just a friend.”
“A friend who you looove,” she teases.
“Whatever, yeah. I used to. Then she pissed me off when she up and vanished, and I haven’t seen her in like eig
She tries not to smile when I hand her the keys. “Why didn’t you go get her sooner? You work for a security agency, Gio. Even if she was hiding, you know someone could have found her.”
“I knew where she was. But I hurt her, and as much as it pisses me off that she left, I understood why.”
“But you love her. Why wouldn’t you fight for her?”
“I was too busy fighting myself.”
She presses her lips together. “What is it with you guys and not forgiving yourselves for being human? My God, you all are the most stubborn group of men I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Whatever, take my car.”
“Are you gonna make sure she gets home okay?”
“Of course, I am.”
She glances over my shoulder. “She’s really pretty.”
“I know.”
“Like really pretty. She could be a model.”
“I know.” I run my hands through my hair, totally not wanting any part of this conversation. “You gonna take it home or what?”
She shakes the keys in her hand. “You’re really gonna let me drive your Rover?”
“Yes. Be careful.”
“I will be.” Then she pushes up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Good luck. Oh, I expect to see you guys at the restaurant. And soon.”
Whitney
Of course, he’s got a woman with him when I see him again. Honestly, I’m not surprised. I should really be thinking about the fact that Perry is a psychopath intent on hurting me more than he already has. But with Gio here, he’s the only thing on my mind.
I’ve been back in town two days. Two. This is… I can’t even deal right now. The past eight years have been some of the best and worst of my life. It was torture leaving Gio, but some of the things that happened while I was away have been profound as well.
Did I figure I’d eventually see Gio? I wanted to. I hoped to. Just not like this. He has a huge family, and I’ve already dodged his cousin this morning at the mall and his brother last night at the hardware store. If one of them saw me, I know they’d go tell him right away and he’d hunt me down.
Which is what I don’t want or need right now. There’s way too much other stuff going on for me to have the courage and strength to deal with the only man in the entire world who I love with all my heart, who I gave everything to, to suddenly be back in my life.
After the way I left and what happened the night before I left, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to see him again. But one week turned into two. Then a month, and a year, and before I knew it, eight years had passed. I got promoted at my job. I was just a clerk at the makeup counter, but I found out about an opening for a manager position at a different store in another town. The company hires from within first, so I applied. I didn’t think I’d get it, but I did. I accepted the position before that night, and once everything happened, I knew it was the absolute right decision. It was about three hours away, so close enough that I still felt like I could get to him if I needed, but far enough away to get the distance we needed.
During the time away were a couple of long, hard years on my own before I met someone who was never supposed to be more than an acquaintance. I never intended to meet anyone, but I ran into him constantly. At the grocery store, coffee shop, I’d see him at the mall, the gas station, everywhere. It didn’t seem creepy then, but looking back on it, I know he was following me, though he’ll never admit it.
Then we started talking. One thing led to another, and before I even knew what happened, I moved in with him. He was good. Manipulative. He found my weaknesses and used them against me.
Things were good at first, platonic for a long time, but as soon as that changed, he started his stupid intimidation tactics in order to threaten me into staying. He’d pretend he was going to hit me; raise his hand and tower over me until I sunk to the ground. Whenever I’d flinch, he’d smile. It was sick and twisted, and I know I put up with it for way too long. I should have left before it got physical, and I honestly don’t understand why I didn’t.
I guess I’m more like my mother than I thought.
Perry’s anger escalated, and after he hit me for the first time, I knew if I didn’t end it, I’d never end up leaving him. So that’s exactly what I did. I decided I needed to come back to the only home I’d ever known.
I requested a transfer back to the same mall I started working at when I was seventeen. I had to take a demotion because the manager’s position was already taken by Gwen.
I planned everything else out perfectly and waited until the time was just right. When he found out I was leaving him, he tried to hit me again, but I ducked. He got me to the ground and kicked me, leaving a nasty bruise.
Despite all that, I stayed strong.
But the moment Gio pulled me against him, and I felt his lips on the top of my head, I melted into him and reverted to the insecure eighteen-year-old girl I was when we first met.
I leaned on him and drew from his strength just like I used to. And that’s bad. I can’t get caught up in him again to the point he consumes my every thought. My every need. My every desire. I won’t. I’m here to be his friend again, and that’s all. It’s also a lie, but whatever. It’s a good thing he has a girlfriend because it gives me even more reason not to fall back into the same Gio trap I always find myself caught up in.
Today was my first day at this new job, and I feel horrible. I feel stupid, and I’m so embarrassed that my crap followed me to work. Gwen, my friend and now manager, knows everything so she understands. Still, it’s humiliating. I’m not the same girl I was when I left. I’m stronger… so much stronger than I used to be. At least I thought I was.
At the insistence of Gwen, I grab my purse and prepare to leave after giving my statement to the police officer. I’m not fearful since Perry has been arrested, but I’m shaken up—not only because of Perry, but because of Gio, too. So it’s really best if I go home for the day so I can compose myself.
I’m trying to hold it together as Gio walks with me to the parking lot—really trying to be resilient—but I know I’m going to fall apart soon. Gio stands in front of me, and he’s so damn handsome it hurts to look at him. His tan skin, dark hair, and scary beautiful brown eyes. “I don’t even know what to say, Giovanni,” I admit.
“Say you’ll come home with me.”
“I can’t.” I find fascination on the blacktop, but he puts his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head up.
He steps closer, and the heat of his tall and powerful body cages me in against my car door. “We need to talk.”
We do. We need to talk about so much, but I’m not ready. I didn’t expect it to feel like I never left, but it does, and I’m freaking out. It shouldn’t be this easy. I’d prepared myself for it to be awkward and angry, not… comfortable. But it was always like this between us from day one, so I shouldn’t be surprised. “Gio.”
He pulls a strand of hair away that stuck to my lip gloss. “Christ, you’re gorgeous. Always were, but now…” He shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts. “We need to talk about so much, and I know exactly where I want to start… Why you left me with a fucking text.”
He’s totally correct about that; that should be what we start with, but I’m not emotionally equipped to deal with more than one crisis at a time. “I can’t.”
“You can. You just don’t want to because there’s more than one thing going on right now.”
See. I knew this would happen. He knows me too well, and I haven’t had enough time to prepare. I don’t want to talk to him because he’ll read me like an open book, and when he finds out the truth, he’s going to hate me. Deservedly. “Gio.”
“Saying my name isn’t gonna change the fact that I haven’t seen you in eight fucking years, and in the span of an hour, a lot of things have happened that I need an explanation for.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
