“You need to trust us to do our job,” Ace says. “That means letting us assess threats and handle them appropriately.”
“One guy talking to me at my brother’s concert isn’t a threat.”
“It becomes a threat when he doesn’t respect boundaries,” Ace counters. “When he keeps pushing after you’ve given a clear signal you’re not interested. When his hands are on you without your permission. That’s predatory behavior, Maddie. And we don’t let predators get close to you.”
I want to argue further, but something in Ace’s tone makes me pause. They genuinely believed Tyler was a problem.
“Did he really seem that bad to you?” I ask quietly. I know he was a little pushy, but it’s not like I haven’t dealt with men like that before.
“Yes,” all three of them say in unison.
I sink back into my seat, some of the anger draining away. Maybe I was too focused on getting the shots I wanted. Maybe I didn’t notice how Tyler was really behaving.
“Fine,” I concede. “But next time, maybe try not to look like you’re about to murder someone. A simple ‘hey, back off’ would work.”
“Noted,” Rhodes says, but he doesn’t sound apologetic.
We’re almost home when Vander speaks up from beside me. “He touched you.”
Three words.
Yet they land like a bomb in the confined space of the SUV.
Rhodes and Ace go still as I look at Vander, who’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tight.
“What?” I ask.
“He touched you,” Vander repeats. “Without permission. That’s enough.”
And somehow, those simple words from the man who barely speaks carry more weight than everything else that’s been said tonight.
The rest of the drive is silent, and when we pull into the garage, I scramble out of the SUV without waiting for assistance.
“Goodnight,” I call over my shoulder, heading for the elevator.
“Maddie,” Ace starts.
“I said goodnight.”
I don’t look back. All because Vander talking to me finally has me feeling things I really shouldn’t.
Chapter Ten
Rhodes
The anticipation has been building all day, but so has the feeling of dread. This morning, the three of us had a meeting.
“This ends tonight,” Ace said as he paced his apartment. “We can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to her.”
Vander simply nodded, and with that we knew he agreed with Ace.
I wanted to argue. I wanted to say that we could keep going, that we had everything under control, and that she was happy. But I couldn’t keep lying to myself. Every time we put on those masks, the guilt ate away at me a little more.
“Tonight’s the last time,” Ace stated with finality.
So here I am, pulling on my black pants in my apartment, pretending that I’m okay with ending it like this, when I know I’m not. If I weren’t her bodyguard, things would be a lot simpler.
My phone buzzes with a text from Ace: Ready?
