I sit back and try to filter through all my emotions. Adrenaline is coursing through me, and I need a minute to calm down. I’m still furious with Damon, but I know there’s more to it than just what happened. Something’s changed inside me, and I’m not sure how that will affect how I feel about Damon. Yes, he makes me feel safe, and I love that, but I haven’t given anyone permission to make decisions on my behalf. I put that all on the back burner for now. I need to focus on the main issue, my safety.
An hour later, I’m on the phone with Stonegate Security, which, it turns out, is owned by a friend of Jacob’s. I swear, my nephew knows everyone in Denver. I’m not sure how, but I’m grateful for his networking abilities. The firm has someone coming over to coordinate with our arena security, and they also want to review the security at my house. I’ve always had an alarm system, but it’s old and outdated, so I’ll probably need an upgrade. This new position will lead to higher visibility, something I hadn’t given much thought to until today. However, I need to consider how it will affect my lifestyle from now on, and I think tightening my personal security is crucial after all that’s happened. I’m not thrilled about having a bodyguard. They were a staple during my life with Kurt, and not in a positive way. He would use security to spy on me, control me, and keep meunder his thumb. I hated it and them, even knowing they were only doing their job.
Security hasn’t been an issue for me in a long time, but maybe it won’t be as invasive and uncomfortable with this new company, especially if I’m the one calling the shots.
It’s early evening by the time I’m done meeting with the security team from Stonegate. I’ve acquired a new shadow named Evan. He is currently sitting on my office sofa, reviewing arena security protocols on his laptop. Evan is a brawny guy who looks incredibly capable, inspiring confidence in me that my safety is in excellent hands. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he has that surfer look but carries himself with military precision, hinting at his background. Based on Mel’s gaping mouth and the puddle of drool on her desk, it’s clear he’s attractive. I can’t help but chuckle to myself after she stumbles over the coffee table for the third time on her way out of my office.
Glad I could provide you with some eye candy, Mel.
For his part, Evan doesn’t seem to notice her admiration—or perhaps he’s simply very professional. The deciding factor for me is Abby. I always trust her instincts with people, and she immediately took a liking to Evan. She’s already curled herself up at his feet. My heart warms when I see him reach down absentmindedly to pet her as he works. Suddenly, I’m feeling much better about the whole bodyguard issue.
Now, what to do about Damon?
Chapter Thirty
Damon
It’s almost six in the evening, and I’m still in my office, struggling to keep my frustration under control. Despite an intense workout earlier, my body is tight with tension. My baser instincts urge me to grab Joslyn and hide her away until the danger passes, while simultaneously hunting down Bill and beating the shit out of him.
The logical, more mature side knows that hiring security is a smart move and probably the right one. However, it’s frustrating that she doesn’t want my help or protection. She said she felt safe with me. Sure, I’m not a professional, but I can hold my own. I played hockey, for God’s sake. I know how to throw a punch.
Does this mean she doesn’t trust me to take care of her? She was livid at the Detective and me this afternoon. Okay, to be fair, her anger was justified. We did go all caveman on her, which in hindsight wasn’t the best course of action, given her history, but that damn detective wasn’t taking her safety seriously. Maybe he doesn’t care, but I do, so that’s not something I’m leaving to chance, no matter how pissed off she gets.
Lexi’s ring tone interrupts my spiraling thoughts, and I answer on autopilot.
“Hi, honey.”
“Dad,” the fear in her voice is all it takes to grab my undivided attention. Something’s wrong.
“Are you okay? Honey, what’s wrong?” I’m already grabbing my keys and heading out of my office.
“Dad, he’s here, and he’s so mad.” She’s crying, and I can barely hear what she’s saying. I have to strain to listen to her because my heart is beating so hard I can barely breathe.
“Who’s there, Lex? Who’s mad?” I can feel panic trying to pull me under, but I shut that shit down hard. Someone is trying to hurt my baby girl.
“Carter. Dad, he’s so mad. I’m scared.” Her trembling voice is ripping my heart out.
“Where are you? Are you safe? I’m coming, honey.”
“I’m in the bathroom with the door locked,” she whispers. I hear a pounding in the background, and I’m suddenly terrified of what might happen to her before I can get there. I make a split-second decision.
“He’s trying to get in, Dad! What do I do?” The terror and panic in her voice is agonizing, and it hits me that I won’t get there before he can get to her. I skid to a stop by the door to Joslyn’s office, using every bit of resolve I have to stop my alarm from taking over.
“Jos, call 911. Send them to Lexi’s place. Carter’s got her trapped in the bathroom,” I shout, as I rush into her office, grabbing a pen from her desk.
She doesn’t even bat an eye. She just picks up her phone and dials 911 as I scribble down the address.
“Go. I’ve got this,” she assures me calmly.
I give her a grateful nod and sprint to the elevator, but anxiety has me headed toward the stairs when the elevator takes too long to arrive.
“I’m coming, Lex. Hold on, baby girl!” I shout desperately over the sound of wood splintering in the background. I start praying like her life depends on it, because I’m terrified that it does.
“The police are coming, honey. Hang in there.” It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep my voice calm for her sake. My teeth are clenched, my phone is in a death grip, and I’m running full-out to my car.
“Oh god, Dad, he’s breaking down the door. What do I do?” I can hear the distress in her voice, but I don’t know what to tell her. Helplessness almost overwhelms me. I hear a crash, and my daughter’s terrified scream before the line goes dead. My hands grip the steering wheel as I peel out of the parking lot like I’m in a movie, breaking every traffic law known to man in my frantic rush to get to her.
It feels like a hundred years later when I pull up in front. I don’t even turn off the car. I throw it in park and race toward her building. I don’t bother with the elevator, knowing she’s on the third floor. I hit the stairs two at a time, thanking God that I’ve got her extra key.
