I stick my tongue out at her like a brat. “Anyway, they hopped out of the creeper van wearing ski masks and I tried to fight them off. One held me back while the other knocked me out cold, hence the bruise.”
I rub my wrist under the table, still able to feel the unforgiving plastic ties that bound my limbs together. “Then they dumped me on the sidewalk near my building.”
Deanna’s hand clamps over her mouth.
I shrug and take a sip of the latte she ordered for me before I arrived, skipping over the part of the story when Dad insisted his doctor examine me using a rape kit. I just want to be thorough, he’d said. Little does he know, a rape kit is almost as invasive and humiliating as a rape itself.
But I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It sickened me to wake up, confused, unsure if my body was abused while I was unconscious.
“Why would someone want to do that to you?” Deanna asks.
Because people are sick. “No clue.”
“Does your Dad know?”
“Oh, he knows.” I’m about to tell her about his ridiculous idea to have me tailed by security when a large shadow casts over our table. Someone’s standing right outside the window, blocking the light from the setting sun.
I don’t even have to look up to see who it is.
I already know.
I keep my eyes fixed on Deanna, hoping she won’t notice. “So, how are things with Will?”
“Uh, do you know this guy?” Her eyes dart up to the window.
“What guy?” I take another swig of my latte, feigning ignorance.
She jerks her thumb to the left. “The giant man who’s staring at you like a serial killer through the window right now.”
A low growl settles in my chest as I shove my chair back and stand. “Unfortunately, yes. I’ll be right back.”
Outside, I whip around the corner of the building and give his shoulder a hard shove. He doesn’t budge—instead I stumble backwards, which only angers me more.
“Why are you here?”
He heaves a sigh as if I’m the oversized gnat that won’t go away. “I thought we went over this. I’m your bodyguard. Wherever you go, I go.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“Did we not just have this conversation five minutes ago? Maybe you should go to the doctor and get your head checked.”
My face heats and I move into his space until I’m craning my neck to look up at him. “Maybe the doctors should check your hearing instead, because I already told you that I don’t need you.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“Bruises heal.”
“Not if you’re dead.”
We stand there, locked in a glaring match, until a bubbly voice perks up beside us. “Hi, I’m Deanna. I’m Eva’s best friend.”
Big Guy doesn’t flinch, so I keep on staring a hole through his sunglasses when I say, “Go inside, Dee.”
“I’d love to. Why don’t you both join me? What does your friend like to drink?”
“He’s not my friend.”
His head turns toward Deanna. “I’m Eva’s bodyguard.”
Her jaw drops open. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know you had a bodyguard, Eva.”
“I don’t. Dad thinks I need one after the other night.”
“He’s right,” they say in unison.
My hand smacks against my thigh as I look up at the sky and groan. “Not you too, Dee. I don’t need anybody to follow me around all day. Come on, this is crazy.”
She scoffs. “Eva, you got attacked. You’re the daughter of one of the richest men in the city. Why is it so bad to have someone watching your back?” She leans toward me, twisting her lips to one side. “Especially someone who looks like him.”
I don’t miss the smirk tick on Big Guy’s face.
Cocky bastard.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to face Deanna. “You know, just because you talk out of the side of your mouth doesn’t mean he can’t hear you.”
She shrugs, giving him a sly smile.
I step in front of her. “Stop that. Don’t smile at him. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side,” she says. “That’s why I want you to be safe. So what, you have a body guard? I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Because it’s just another way for my father to control me!” I shout, scattering several nearby pigeons. “He thinks he can track my every move. He thinks he can tell me where to go, how to dress, what to do. I just want to be a normal girl, Dee. I want freedom. This is just one more thing he’s trying to take from me.”
Deanna looks at me with pity reflecting in her eyes. “He just doesn’t want you to end up like Eric.”
I hate when she looks at me that way, and even more so when she mentions Eric’s name. Plenty of people have it worse off than me in this world. I don’t deserve anyone’s pity.
I snap my sardonic armor back into place as I glare up at the giant-sized thorn in my side. “You want to stand here looking like a psycho-stalker while I enjoy my latte? Knock yourself out.”
I stomp back inside with Deanna in tow. I swipe our cups off the table we were previously sitting at and press my middle finger against the window in front of his face. Then I move to another table across the room, the one farthest from the windows.
Deanna is just about frothing at the mouth when we drop into our seats. “Holy mother of God, that man is beautiful! You’re so lucky!”
I groan and drop my forehead onto the table.
Yeah, that’s me.
Lucky.
Chapter Three
Graham
“Good Morning, Graham.”
Anthony Montalbano swings the door open and steps into the hallway. He’s buttoned up to perfection in his navy suit, crisp white collar, and color-coordinated tie.
I give him a tight nod. “Morning, sir.”
“Rosemarie put out a wonderful spread in the kitchen. Go in and help yourself.”
“No, thank you.” I lift my to-go cup. “I grabbed a coffee on the way over.”
“Nonsense. The man who protects my daughter deserves all the breakfast he can eat. Please, I insist.”
He’s leaving for work, which would grant me unsupervised access into his home. This is exactly the kind of opportunity I need, but I can’t appear too eager.
“Won’t Eva mind the intrusion, sir?”
He grimaces. “She giving you as hard of a time as she’s giving me?”
“I can handle it.”
He reaches up and pats my shoulder. “Take care of her. She’s my baby. She’s all I have left.”
Guilt rises in my throat, stifling my response.
That’s more than my father would say about me.
So far, this guy doesn’t seem so bad.
“Will do, sir.” I step through the doorway and follow the long hallway, feeling like a wolf who was just let into the hen house.
When I find the kitchen, Rosemarie, I assume, gasps and clutches her chest.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up on either side of my head. “Mr. Montalbano let me in. I’m Evangeline’s body guard.”