“Pfft. I didn’t call them. What’re they going to do? All they’ll say is what everyone has.Give people some time to forget.But what if the next time I’m not so lucky?” I hated falling apart like a baby, but I was at the edge and ready to shatter.
“Do you have any rubbing alcohol?”
“Huh?” I had no idea where he was going with that.
“Alcohol. It’s the best thing to remove ink stains from your skin.”
“Um…I don’t know. The bathroom’s in there, through the bedroom, if you want to take a look.”
He left me, reappearing after a few minutes with a bottle of alcohol and a box of tissues. “Want me to do it for you?”
Another entry for the category:Ronan ain’t no fool. “Okay, sure.” Anything to get those big hands on me. Gabriel Sachs was about six three and pure muscular beauty. I relaxed into the couch cushion and closed my eyes. A moment later I felt the coolness of the alcohol on my face. Gabriel’s breath hit my cheek as he worked the soaked tissues carefully over my eyelids.
“Don’t open them yet. I want to wipe it down with fresh water to make sure the alcohol doesn’t get into your eyes.”
“All right.” I had to admit it was nice sitting here in the hush of my apartment and having someone take control. I heard the faucet run, and then the couch dipped and Gabriel was there again with his long, sensitive fingers gliding over my face.
“There. Now you look like yourself.”
I blinked and found him smiling at me. “Thank you, though I’m not so sure that’s a good thing, considering what happened today.”
“Why am I here?” Gabriel shifted away as if he could sense my true thoughts.
“I’m tired of fighting my way through the haters every day. And with the package I got today…I think I want to hire protection.”
“Oh?” He didn’t seem too enthusiastic.
“Yes. I can’t stay in this apartment like a prisoner or a sitting duck. I have things to do and places to go, and I can’t be afraid of something exploding in my face every time I open the door.” Why had it been easier when I called him on the phone than now, when we were face-to-face? “You say your job is personal protection services. I’d like to hire you as my bodyguard.”
“And what do you see me doing for you on a day-to-day basis? Would my position be live-in, or do I report to you every morning?”
Without any reason, I felt like Gabriel wasn’t taking my offer seriously, and I began to get pissed off. “I have an extra bedroom, so yeah, I’d want it to be a live-in position. If I go out at night, I wouldn’t want to worry about getting jumped or hurt if I’m at a club. Plus, I have to do community service for my probation, and I’d want you there with me. I don’t trust being alone outside anymore.”
“What’s the community service?”
I could see the spark of interest in his eyes. “I’m the library guy at New York Hospital in the children’s ward. It’s my job to wheel that cart around and help the kids pick out books they might want to read.”
“I see.”
It bugged the hell out of me that I couldn’t read Gabriel, but he had a damn poker face, which, perversely, made me angry. “Listen, if you’re not interested, that’s fine. I’ll get someone else.” I left my seat on the couch and began my usual pacing of the living room, while Gabriel remained seated, watching me with that unwavering stare. “I’m sure there are plenty of personal bodyguards out there who’d be happy to take my money.”
“They’re not me,” Gabriel said. “And the little I know of your history is giving me second thoughts.”
Rage mixed with defeat flooded me, and I stopped my back and forth to stand in front of him. My voice shook, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything anymore. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sick of trying to live in a place where no one wants me. I’m done. You can leave. Sorry to have bothered you, and the door’s right there. Feel free to walk yourself through it.”
I left him sitting on my couch and slammed my bedroom door behind me.
Chapter Six
Gabriel
I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t interested in Ronan Michaels’s story. It was why I’d done a little research on him after helping him when he got attacked outside. Another man would’ve called the police and tried to have the people arrested, but not Ronan. He pretty much brushed it off and went about his business, only to get attacked again in a much more insidious way.
Seeing him in his apartment, face streaked with ink, obviously shaken, I didn’t want to feel sympathy for him. His history wasn’t pretty. Expanding on the information Isaac had mentioned, I learned that at twenty he almost died in a tractor trailer crash that took his parents, leaving him with an eighteen-year-old sister as his only family. But he’d received a huge settlement, one that would make anyone that age go a little wild. If I’d had twenty million dollars at my disposal so young, I might’ve partied and dropped out of college like Ronan had. He seemed to have been close with his sister—they’d both worked at her husband’s company—but that hadn’t stopped him from stealing money from their clients.
It didn’t add up. Why would someone who had so much money at his disposal need to steal? Though I shouldn’t be surprised by people. After working for Dan and living with him and his family for five years, I thought I knew him too, and look how that turned out.
And yet…there was something vulnerable about Ronan that kept me from walking out the door. Maybe I was making another mistake. Who was Ronan Michaels? I wanted to learn more about the gorgeous man with the tragic past.
