“Thank heavens Addison let me borrow this dress.”
“It’s stunning. You’d never know it belonged to someone else. It fits you like a glove. But to be honest, I can’t stop looking at your hair.” Coming closer, I glide my fingertips over the soft waves, careful not to disrupt all of the work she’s put in to making it look so effortlessly beautiful.
“It’s my natural color.” Her big green eyes hold mine and in that moment, her meaning becomes clear.
She’s not hiding anymore.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Oh yeah?” She gives a weak laugh before standing taller on those sexy black stilettos. “I’m pretty proud of me too.”
The ballroom isall marble floors and chandeliers, wealth on full display. Clutching her hand tightly in mine, we drift past the silent auction tables, her fingers brushing over a basket with a trip to L.A. and a walk-on TV appearance.
“If I could do anything,” she says quietly, “I’d love to work on a film set. Hair, makeup. Something insanely creative.”
“Done.”
Her head jerks toward me. “What?”
“I know a guy.” I chuckle, using my Jersey accent to accentuate the statement. “Fire’s mentioned him before. A firefighter who started working with production crews. I’ll make a call.”
Her eyes widen. “Wow. Are you serious?”
“Sure. Maybe you run your own place in Sycamore and moonlight on set. You’d be brilliant.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Once I hit the lottery and can buy back everything I lost, maybe.”
If she only knew,I think to myself, watching her light up. I’ve already started looking into becoming a silent partner in Sycamore’s next beauty boutique. Ellie was able to get contact information for Liz before she left town. Once I explained that I wanted to move her salon to Sycamore Mountain, if she agreed to stay, Liz was fully on board.
Char throws her arms around me. “Thank you,” she whispers against the shell of my ear. “Thank you for encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone. I’m having a great time.”
“Stick with me, baby. This is only the beginning.” I’m about to tease her regarding the unexpected public display of affection when I notice a shift in her posture. Her body stiffens. As I look down at her beautiful face, I notice her color drains.
Following her gaze, my eyes land on her stepfather. I know it’s him. Hell. There was no way I was going to be able to avoid looking up that asshat online after the story she shared. He’s glaring back at her, evil personified. And of course, there’s a blonde bombshell on his arm. She looks even younger than Char, but same long hair and toned figure.
I take a step toward him and then quickly stop myself. I want to throat punch the fucker, then rip him limb from limb. But my only priority right now, is her. Beyond temporarily making me feel better, what would it solve? It would probably only upset her more. Worse, I risk having his goons call the police and havemearrested for assault and battery. Then I would’ve broken my promise toChar. That I wouldn’t leave her side. And she’s the most important thing.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t find a way to take care of him once she’s safely tucked away with me. If I have to spend the very last dime my grandfather left me to ensure this monster never bothers her again, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
“I know them,” Char stammers, her voice frail.
My eyes dart back over to the group in question. Are those men with him his bodyguards? I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to give too much away about the time I spent on the internet researching that snake in the grass stepfather of hers. By the looks of it, he’s likely not married to her mother any longer. Unless he openly parades his paramours. As far as I’m concerned, he and her mother can both burn in hell for what they did to her. And whether I’ve committed to protecting Char or not, I haven’t ruled out helping both of them get to their fiery destination.
I examine the two men standing behind him. I don’t recognize either of them. I’m all too familiar with the asshole to his left.
My father.
Figures he’d be consorting with the likes of this douchebag. From here, his conversation with him doesn’t appear overly friendly. Dear old Dad is in his usual smarmy rich-man stance. Hopefully, he’s merely trying to keep up with the Joneses. But if I find out he’s in this fucker’s inner circle, I’ll ruin him, family or not.
Char has stepped behind me, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket in her attempts to retreat.
“I’ve got you, babe.” I pull her tightly against me. “We’ll grab our coats and head out. Okay? Don’t worry.”
“One of those guys was standing behind me at Buc-ee’s when I drove from Candy Cane Key to Sycamore Mountain. I bumped into him again a few hours later,” she whispers, her voice quivering with fear. “I tried to convince myself it was a coincidence, but...” Her gaze flicks to the other tall male, wearing the black suit of a bodyguard, his heavy Breitling Super Chronomat sports watch sparkling under thelights of the chandelier.A well-paid bodyguard, it appears. “The other guy wearing the aviators was stalking me outside of my salon. I saw him right before I found the note on my car that said I couldn’t hide. And I’m pretty sure he followed me to Amelia Island before Christmas.”
The world narrows. My teeth are clamped so tight I can taste metal.
Char’s breath catches. “Please, don’t do anything.”
