“They weren’t exactly involved…” Blessing chuffed.
He shook his head and groaned under his breath. “Doesn’t matter. No blowback. If someone wants to get to you,” he pointed an index finger at me with a snarl to match, “he or she could easily pick off one of the lesser-protected women in your life. That’s what I call blowback, and I’m not having it. Not on my watch.”
“Um, excuse me, Mr…” I tried.
He narrowed his gaze at Blessing. “You didn’t even tell the mark our names?”
Blessing shrugged a shoulder, unimpressed, then looked down at her red nails, possibly checking if there were any chips or rough spots. Blessing didn’t take any shit from anyone. Especially someone she hired. But in this circumstance, the guy was right, and she owed him an apology.
“Sylvester Holt, owner of Holt Security.”
“Mr. Holt. I appreciate your concern and understand it completely. I’m absolutely terrified of what happened to that poor woman and have already been kidnapped and tortured myself.”
Mr. Holt’s angered gaze softened. “Nothing’s going to happen to you on my watch. That I can promise. And I’ve already checked out your guy.”
“My guy?”
“The photographer. He’s solid. Ex-Army. Spent a decade in war-torn countries and lived to tell about it, and brought back proof the world could see through his photographs. Fan of his work. It’s stellar.” He offered up the compliment as if it were a throwaway, but it made me desperate to check out Killian’s prior work. If I hadn’t had to worry about an innocent dead woman who looked like me, I would have already done so.
“Well, that’s lovely. You can tell him that yourself.” I smiled.
He ignored my response and continued with his demands. “Look, Ms. Michaels-Kerrighan, it doesn’t change that you are in some real danger and it’s my job now to ensure that you’re safe. So, you both need to listen to me and my team. We will keep you safe. You don’t exit cars alone, walk alone into buildings, or open doors willy-nilly to a house that’s bombarded by the press. We take you in, we check the place out, you stay locked in tight under my watch. My guy Lance here will take care of Ms. Jones-Kerrighan. My guy Omar will take care of the other three for today. I have no doubts about my guys’ ability to protect all of you. I just want to make it clear that when I tell you to do something, you’re going to do it, and not go off half-cocked. Got it?”
I nodded avidly not wanting to piss Mr. Holt off even more. He was definitely a hot guy but also a little unhinged and frightening, if you asked me.
“Do you have the card for the FBI agent assigned to your case?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not sure whose been assigned officially, but our sister Simone is living with Jonah Fontaine, and his partner Ryan Russell also stayed over the house last night to keep watch.”
“Fontaine and Russel, I know them. Solid agents. If I’d known he was inside the house I would have gotten my information straight from the source.”
Blessing looked out the window and pretended to be invisible.
I bumped her shoulder. “See what happens when you go off half-cocked,” I whisper-yelled loud enough for both men to hear.
Blessing glared in response. “I did what I had to do and obviously I got the best, so what’s your problem?”
I sighed then turned to the driver. “I’m sorry you were ill-informed, Mr. Holt, but we are late for the shoot which means Blessing is going to be late to her meetings if we don’t get in gear. Can we talk on the way up?”
He clenched his jaw and folded out of the car abruptly. Lance did the same on my side of the car and opened my door, his eyes not on me but scanning an empty garage filled with fancy cars. It must have cost a mint to live in this building. Mr. Holt did the same for Blessing and together we walked to the elevator.
On the way up, we gave the guys as much information as we knew, which, again, wasn’t a lot. All of this just happened. I however was trying to be smart while pretending everything was going to be okay. Hopefully this situation with the girl was a one-off and it would end with the FBI or the local cops doing their thing, and we’d find out it was all just a big coincidence.
Blinders firmly on, I stood back while Mr. Holt knocked on one of two doors in the small hallway of the top floor. Lucky number 10. Looked like each tenant had half a floor, which would have been pretty massive square footage-wise.
Killian opened the door with a smile plastered to his handsome face, then jerked his head back, the smile shutting down instantly. He took in the two big men who clearly had a lot of testosterone and must have worked out like demons, with surprise. Then his eyebrows rose while taking in Blessing and finally landing those pretty brown eyes on me.
I gave a little finger wave but kept quiet.
Mr. Holt stuck out his hand. “Sylvester Holt of Holt Security. I’m going to be assessing your home. Can we chat a moment?”
Killian smirked and winked at me before responding with a wave of his hand for all of us to enter. “Sure, come on in. My dog’s currently locked up in the laundry room off there.” He pointed to a door where I could hear a dog barking like wild. “Rottweiler. Doesn’t take kindly to strangers. I’ll introduce him to Addison and team individually if it’s all the same to you.”
“I’ll need to see in that room.”
“Of course. I can take you around and when you’re ready I’ll introduce you. My dog will not attack unless I command it, or he feels that I’m being threatened.”
Mr. Holt nodded curtly. “Lance, you’re on point.” He commanded and the large white dude lifted his chin and crossed his arms, standing right next to us preparing to hold vigil while Mr. Holt did the look about.
My makeup/hairdresser exited from another door which I assumed led to a bathroom since it was one of only two doors in the place, and I waved at him wildly while smiling. “Hi Cameron!” Cameron was dressed in black from head to toe. A tight black T-shirt that fit like a glove adorned his thin frame. Black skinny jeans and black and white Vans completed his bland look. His face, however, was covered in brightly colored makeup. Multi-colored pink, blue, and purple hues shaded his blue eyes. Rouge and contouring makeup had been expertly applied to his face to accentuate the femininity of his fairylike features. He had long, pitch-black eyelashes so flattering you couldn’t tell whether they were real or fake. His hair was a startling bright royal blue, cut close to the sides and spiky on top. That was new. Then again, it was always something different. Last time I’d laid eyes on him his hair was bright pink. Cameron preferred to go wild with hair and makeup which highlighted his craft, versus dressing fashionably forward.
He sauntered over to me and I hugged him before he let me go then pulled Blessing into his arms. I let them catch up on things while I took in the loft. The space was huge. Two walls were completely made out of brick from floor to ceiling. A staircase spiraled up in the corner toward what looked like a super cool indoor/outdoor-like green space where I could see lush plants that had another wrought iron staircase leading to what I assumed was the roof. A little further from that was an open room with glass walls that held workout equipment.
Below in the primary space, there was a long, L-shaped teal couch that sat against one of the brick walls. It could easily sit ten to twelve people comfortably. Tall wooden columns dotted the space, likely holding up the roof. The floors were entirely covered in a medium brown-toned wood. A weird multi-tiered table sat in front of the teal couch with a vase on one tier, a stack of magazines on another. The kitchen was dead center of the room and could be seen from anywhere as it butted up against one of the non-brick walls. There were barstools surrounding the entire thing. No dining table to speak of, not that it mattered because there were four barstools on each of the three sides of the U-shaped kitchen counters. The back wall of the kitchen boasted a double sub-zero stainless steel fridge, a six-burner stove, and scads of cabinets. The sink and more counter space were part of the big, U-shaped setup so it doubled as both eating space and workspace. It felt more like a comfy bar or diner than a kitchen in someone’s home.