“You don’t come near her again,” he says, pointing a large finger in the man’s face. I swear the guy looks like he just about pissed his pants. “Let’s go, Miss Fox,” Smith says, gently taking hold of my forearm and leading me out to the car where Franklin is waiting.
When we’re both in the car, Smith looks at me and sighs. “Does that shit happen often?”
“It’s happened a few times,” I say.
“How long ago did it happen?” I know he is referencing the photos.
“They took the pictures five months ago during my last heat, but didn’t release them until about a month ago,” I reply and knead the material of my gauzy dress between my two fingers. Just thinking about it sometimes makes me sick to my stomach.
“Have they been charged?” he asks.
It’s my turn to sigh as I look out the window. “Barely a slap on the wrist. Zach’s dad is a judge and Damien has enough money to make this disappear. Have you noticed that no one knows who took the pictures?”
“That’s fucking bullshit,” he says.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Sorry. Did you think about canceling the tour?”
“So many times. I still do. But I can’t let everyone down. All my shows are sold out now. People saved their money and are counting on me. Not to mention the amount of people who were hired to work during the tour. I can’t just cancel because of what’s going on in my personal life.”
“Like fuck you can’t. You can’t always please everyone,” he says.
“I know.” I sigh and rip my wig and wig cap off and place my face against the cold window. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Okay,” he says as he leans over the dash, speaking quietly to Franklin.
About ten minutes later, the car is parked, but not where we’re staying. “I’ll be right back,” Smith says. I don’t question him as he exits the car.
Tonight went from feeling great about myself to feeling like a violated person to actually feeling heard. Smith protected me. He’s keeping his promise. He apologized and is being nice. Maybe this can work out after all.
The door swings open, and he’s holding two blue bowls of froyo. “I think I remembered everything you like,” he says, handing me the bowl. A massive grin spreads across my face as I take the sweet treat. If there is anything that can make me feel better, it’s sugar.
“Thanks, Smith,” I say.
“No problem.”
“So, when am I going to know your real name?”
“Never, if I have anything to say about it,” he replies.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“It is. Now eat your diabetes in a bowl and leave me alone,” he says and I laugh.
“One day, you’re gonna tell me.”
“Not gonna happen,” he says, and I smile behind my bowl. I give him a reprieve, but if I have to snag his wallet one day and find his license, I’m going to find out this man’s real name. It seems like my bodyguard has a sweet side after all.
Chapter 5
She’sfinallytalkingtome again, thank God. I thought she was going to fire me after she told me to shove my opinion up my ass. I didn’t mean to be an asshole, but suppressants in the wrong hands can have bad consequences.
Not that I think she’s unstable, but she’s been through a lot. Just like Kelsey has, it could make her do something she wouldn’t normally do.
I wanted to smash that douchebag’s head against the wall when he handed her that picture last night. What kind of fucked up person thinks something like that is okay? I feel bad that Cami has gotten no justice for what’s happened to her, either. Her body was put on display for the public eye during a private moment, that she clearly didn’t consent to.
We’re in Kansas City for two nights before we head to Chicago. I thought I could handle this tour, but fuck, I can’t wait for it to be over. If I’m feeling the strain, I can’t imagine how Cami is feeling. She basically passes out after her shows and sleeps for at least ten hours. My back hurts and no amount of working out is helping ease the tension. Not to mention the other tension running through my body. When was the last time I had sex? Maybe when I’m on break I’ll get laid and relieve some of this pent up energy.
