Page 10 of Guarding the Violinist (Blue Sky Bodyguards #1)

PART VII

MARK

It wasn’t until the next morning that they spoke again.

There was a lot said in the late-night hours, but not any kind of deep conversation.

Mark was just admiring the golden haze that the morning light cast on Heather’s hair when he heard her speak.

"You said we don't have to worry about our parents getting involved?"

"Hmm?" He combed his fingers through her hair. "Yeah. We're both adults."

"Is your mom... I mean, is she okay?"

"She's retired and living in a nice cottage in the Hamptons. [change location because earlier you wrote she moved away from the Hamptons] She fell in love with the place and bought it a few years back."

"Oh, good. I always liked her a lot."

Mark raised his head and pressed a kiss to the top of hers. "She liked you. A lot."

Heather moved around a little and turned so she could look up into his face instead of leaving her cheek on his shoulder. "Would she be okay with us together?"

Mark moved his fingertips down her back and smiled when she shivered at his touch.

"My mom," he shook his head, smiling. "It should be strange to talk about this with you naked in bed."

Heather's cheeks brightened with color. "We're not in bed. More like, we're on the bed."

Mark paused when his fingers skated the curve of her lower back. "I like having you on me."

She sighed and laid her cheek back on his shoulder. "I liked having you in me."

Her eyes opened in surprise as his hand cupped her backside and gave her sensitive flesh a squeeze.

"I love having you in my life, Heather. I-"

The front doorbell sounded, and Mark tensed.

"Mark?"

He moved his hand up to her lower back and moved her to his side and held her still. "Wait."

Stretching out his arm, he picked up his phone from the bedside table and brought it up in front of his face.

The screen lit up and he could see the front door camera.

The man standing at the door turned his face toward the camera and raised his head with a lift of his hand in a wave.

"Ares? Can I come in?"

Mark tapped the screen and the microphone button in the app window opened. He wanted to rub a hand over his face, but his other hand was occupied in a more interesting fashion.

His fingers played lightly across her hip and her hand moved across his abdomen, settling just a scant inch from the tip of his cock.

His body reacted on instinct, thickening, and lifting from his belly.

This was not the time, but his dick didn't know that.

His heart didn't either.

"Ares?"

Mark glared at the screen. “I thought Badger was coming?”

Flash shrugged. “He asked me to bring the package to you. He’s digging into something.”

Mark wasn’t sure he liked that answer.

“Uh, hello?”

Mark barely held himself back from rolling his eyes.

"Yeah?" He winced and met Flash's big grin.

"You... busy ?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Flash."

"Oh," the other man smiled and held up his hands, "I get it. I've seen some of her videos on YouTube, Ares. Talented and beautiful. [how can he tell she's beautiful when she wears a mask that covers her face during her performances?] You got a great assignment."

"Okay, asshole. You can shut up now. I'll come and open the door in a minute."

"Okay."

Mark watched as Flash moved to the side wall and leaned up against it, his arms folded across his chest. He kept his gaze on the camera.

"No rush. I'll wait."

HEATHER

Heather sat up and grabbed the sheet to wrap around her body. "I'll go back to my room."

"You don't have to." Mark seemed hesitant in his words. "That's Flash. One of the other guards. He won’t care."

She thought she heard something odd in his tone, but she didn't know what it was. "I just think I should grab my clothes and go back to my room."

He watched her closely for a minute before he nodded slowly. "I know you better than to think everything’s fine. About that we will talk later, but for now, I need to talk to Flash. It's about your protection."

She managed a smile. "Okay. Then I'll let you talk to him."

Heather moved to find her clothes and when she turned back to Mark, he'd pulled on his long sleep pants and was pulling on his t-shirt. It was a pity that he had to cover up.

She’d fallen in love with his lanky form back in the day, but she admired this one too.

“Keep looking at me like that, Heather, and Flash can just stand outside for the rest of the day.”

She shook her head, but this time she knew he could see her smiling.

He opened the door for her, and she ducked under his arm to head back to her own room.

Heather hoped that he didn’t see how stiffly she was walking.

It wasn’t a sensation that she was used to, but she wasn’t about to complain. She was a different woman who walked out of his room from the one who walked in the night before.

She didn’t know what was going to happen to her in the future, but she’d hold onto the memory of being loved by Mark. It might have to be enough.

MARK

He was glad that Heather had stayed in her room for a bit. He’d heard the shower running but when it stopped, she stayed out of the main room, which he was grateful for.

The letters and photographs of the gifts that had been delivered for Heather made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to think about how it would hurt her to see them too.

“You’re sure she hasn’t seen these?”

Flash shrugged. “If we can believe Blackwood’s people, yes. His security guy was a little tight lipped and tight assed when I met with him to get the letters.”

“Tight lipped how?”

Mark was eager to hear what Flash had to say. He’d already met with the head of Blackwood’s Security and found him to be an unnecessarily surly man.

“I got the feeling he felt like we were stepping into his territory.”

Mark nodded. “Did he give you any problems with the hand off?”

“No. I got the feeling like he was glad to get rid of them. It might have bothered him that we were brought in, but he couldn’t put the box in my hands fast enough.”

Mark picked up one of the photos and looked at the date. “This is the newest one?”

Flash looked at the label at the bottom of the photo. “Yeah. The last one they received. It came in two days ago. A messenger service with crappy rules. All they need is the package and the cost of the messenger service.

“I hear it’s the messenger service of choice for drug dealers in New York City.”

Mark shrugged. “It certainly sounds like that.”

“Whoever did it certainly did their homework. Their dropbox is likely the only one in the city that doesn’t have a security camera covering the area.” He sat back in his chair and shook his head. “The only camera in the vicinity is damaged.”

“Is it a city camera?”

He nodded. “One of the cameras in the city that’s been damaged over and over by vandals. The maintenance worker I spoke to gave me the impression that it’s not a big city priority to fix it.”

“They probably figure it’s already cost them more than enough fixing it and if there aren’t any crimes committed in the vicinity-”

“Reported crimes,” Flash interjected.

“Right. If there aren’t any crimes reported in that area they won’t get dragged in by the Chief of Police.”

“I get it.” Mark fanned out the pictures of the ‘presents’ on the table before him. “What’s your assessment on the cards and gifts?”

Flash shook his head. “The cards come across as your garden variety overzealous fan.” He pointed out a few of the highlighted lines on photos of the cards and letters.

I want to marry you, why won’t you meet me?

I’m the man for you.

I hear you talking through your music. I know you belong to me.

“Now, it’s the gifts that gave me the creeps.”

“I’m getting hungry. Do you guys want something to eat?”

Flash gathered the photos and faced them down on the table.

Mark turned to look at Heather as she walked over to them.

Her hair was damp and curling at the ends. She wasn’t wearing a mask and Mark took it to mean that she trusted Flash because he worked with him.

Mark and Flash got to their feet.

“No,” she waved them both back down, “sit, please.”

He gave her a smile and a nod, hoping that she’d understand.

Heather came over to his side and put one hand on his shoulder as she reached out her other hand. “Hi..”

Mark didn’t miss the look that Flash shot him.

Mark wasn’t sure what Flash knew, but he knew something.

Flash gave her a smile and Mark found himself grinding his back teeth together. Flash was popular with the ladies. “Hello, Heather. I’m Julian Tate. Ares might have referred to me as Flash.”

“Flash?”

Heather looked at him and Mark gave her a little shrug.

Heather looked back at Flash. “How did you get that name? If,” she rushed on, “you want to tell me.”

Flash offered her his chair.

When Heather was seated, Flash nodded. “I like to tell people it’s because I streaked across the parade field at bootcamp. But the real story is my affinity with explosives and an unfortunate test. I might have lost my eyebrows for a time.”

Mark saw Heather teetering between remaining calm and laughing, so he let out a laugh and Flash joined in.

Heather looked back and forth between them for a few seconds and then she burst into laughter too.

It was great to see her relax and laughing.

Mark gave the pile of pictures beside him a side-long glance, but before he could make a decision about telling her what they were looking at, she got up from her chair and gestured for Flash to sit down again.

“I’m going to make some breakfast for us.” She started toward the kitchen. “Missus Fazekus will be by with lunch later. Flash- Or should I call you Julian?”

Flash shrugged. “Whatever you like, Miss-”

“Heather. You can call me Heather.”

Mark drew in a breath. It was good to hear her claim her name again. He’d been calling her Heather, but she hadn’t fought him on it. Mark hoped that wouldn’t change as they spent time together.

Nix might be the name that others called her, but he could never really do that in private.

Heather was so much more than Nix. So much more than ‘nothing.’

She was everything .

“You can call me Julian.”

“Okay, Julian.” Her smile was radiant, and Mark saw the reaction Flash had to it. He was leaning toward her with a broad smile of his own. “I’ll make breakfast and you guys go back to what you were doing.”

“Thanks.”

When she was out of earshot, Mark glared at Flash. “Suck up.”

Flash didn’t seem to care. “She’s gorgeous and incredibly talented. The last thing I’m going to do is make a bad impression.”

Mark felt his face heat up.

“We’re supposed to have manners, remember, Ares?”

“Yeah. Remember the last time we sparred, and I kicked your ass?”

Flash held up his hands in surrender. “When we get some down time, you’re going to have to tell me the story between you two.”

Mark gave the other man a pointed look. “Why do you think there’s a story between us?”

Flash rolled his eyes. “I see more than you’d like me to, man. You two have history.”

Mark nodded after a long breath. “We do, but that has nothing to do with the problem she’s having now. When we find the bastard who’s sending her this shit, maybe I’ll tell you then.”

“Or maybe,” Flash turned the photos back over, but kept them closely stacked together, “I’ll just ask Heather .”

Mark saw red at the edges of his vision. “She’s been through some shit, Flash. Don’t dredge it up again.”

He sat back in his chair and nodded. “Got it.”

Feeling he’d made his point, Mark took the stack of photos from Flash. And separated them into the notes and the gifts.

Looking at them separately, Mark felt something shift inside of him. “The notes are different from the gifts. I think we’re dealing with two separate people.”

Flash edged closer and moved his eyes over the two groupings. “I don’t think the guy who sent the notes is someone we need to worry about. If they find him, they can send him some kind of legal letter to tell him to stop being creepy.”

Mark’s lips curled up at one corner. “I could go and deliver that in person just to discourage him.”

“Discourage,” Flash’s shoulder shook with silent laughter, “what a nice way to say, ‘scare him shitless.’ Looks like our charm school classes paid off.”

Mark groaned. “Don’t call it charm school.”

Flash shrugged. “What would you call it?”

“I don’t know.” Mark piled the photos of the notes in a pile and set them aside. “But then again, I was already charming before school. So what does it matter?”

Flash moved his chair closer and grumbled under his breath. “Asshole.”

“Don’t make me call Alex and tell him you need a refresher course.”

Flash might have said something after that, but Mark was looking over the photos of the gifts that had been sent to Blackwood for Heather.

They started out simple enough. Flowers. Cards. Even a pair of sunglasses. But somewhere along the line things changed.

Instead of flowers, there were just stems in the box. Stems with thorns. The cards weren’t greeting cards with flowers or pretty images, they were printed images of what looked like horror film gore. And another pair of sunglasses, but this time its lenses were smashed and the parts that remained were jagged and painted red.

“So without the letters we don’t have a stated purpose.”

Mark swallowed. “I’d say the purpose is to make her afraid.”

“Well, we’re not going to let that happen.”

“Mars? You want to get the coffee started?”

Mark turned to look at her and forced a smile on his face. “Sure. I can do that.”

He got up from his chair to help but didn’t miss the pointed look that Flash gave him.

“Mars?”

“Shut it, Flash.”

Smiling, Flash sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

Mark sighed. “Fucker.”

Flash mouthed two words to him before Mark moved away.

CHARM SCHOOL

HEATHER

There was something bothering her, but she was trying to hold it in. Julian, or Flash as Mark called him, had brought a bunch of photos with him.

Photos that they didn’t want her to see.

She invited Flash to stay over instead of finding a hotel near the airport for his flight the next day. It made sense in a way. Hospitable, sure.

But it might also give her a chance to search for the photos.

She knew it was about her security.

Bart hired the Big Sky Bodyguards for a reason. They knew their jobs.

She just wanted to know what they were hiding from her.

While the guys were outside talking, she cast a few glances over at the briefcase that Julian had brought with him.

He’d put all of the papers back in the case and locked it.

No, she wasn’t crazy enough to get a knife and try and open the case. If they had a reason to keep her out of the loop, then that’s what they did.

Still, it was driving her a little batty.

Heather went into her bedroom to work off a little frustration.

She didn’t take it out on her violin. She picked up her hairbrush and started to comb her hair over and over.

It didn’t hurt when she did it. She just liked the feel of the bristles against her scalp. It was probably the only memory she had of her mother. A bedtime ritual that always managed to soothe her anxiety, only it wasn’t bedtime.

She stood at the counter in her bathroom, facing the mirror but not looking in it.

It was like when she played on stage.

She could be looking at the audience, but she wasn’t looking directly at them. The closest she came to describing the sensation was when she met Demetria Brooks, a painter who was achieving worldwide acclaim. They were both invited to an artist showcase in Paris.

Thankfully Heather hadn’t been asked to come out and greet the public, just to play in the showcase, but later at the hotel where the artists were staying, she’d met Demetria in the garden. The two sat in companionable silence until Demetria had spoken up and said she admired her for her air of mystery.

“The mask affords you some kind of protection from curious stares. They see the character you portray on the stage, but they don’t see inside you.”

Curious at the other woman’s comments, Heather had ventured into the conversation with a little hesitation. “I just want to play music.”

“And I,” she sighed, “just want to paint, but my artistic venue is a solitary one. People will pay to watch you play. People would be bored to tears watching me paint. I can’t tell you the number of days that I can sit there in front of my canvas, aching for the inspiration.

“Then something happens. A leaf falls against the windowpane. Or I hear laughter on the street outside. Sometimes it’s a song lyric that pops into my head for no particular reason. It feels like a rush of something exciting or exotic in my blood. And then it’s me, the paint, and that creative force inside me.”

“Now, no one sees me painting besides my cat and he doesn’t complain, when I’m really connecting to the painting, when I’m just letting the brush do… whatever it does. When I saw you playing, I saw something similar in you. So I’m curious if I’m right.”

Demetria turned then, drawing one knee up onto the bench between them, the sunlight filtering through the large pot of ferns hanging from a nearby hook. Her eyes were a curious hazel color that Heather found fascinating.

“What does it feel like when you play?”

Heather shrugged. “When I’m performing, I don’t look directly at anyone in the crowd. I like to hear the music in my head when I’m playing. It’s like…” She shook her head afraid to say it out loud. “It’s like…”

“There’s something guiding you, filling you with the music? Not like we’re possessed,” she laughed, “but something more elemental. Energy flowing through you and inspiration goes straight from your soul to your fingers.”

Heather set her brush on the countertop and looked at her hands, turning them over once and then again.

“From my soul to my fingers.”

“That sounds amazing.”

Shocked, she leaned back and felt the wall of Mark’s chest behind her.

“Sorry.” He put his hands on her hips. “Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No. You didn’t scare me. I was in my thoughts again.”

“Was I in your thoughts?”

She hesitated for a moment too long.

“Okay,” he sighed, and she felt the warmth of his breath along the side of her neck. “If there’s another guy…”

“Another guy?” She gave her head one hard shake. “Hardly. I can tell you’ve never been in Witness Protection before. It was partly why I finally took the time to learn to play the violin and had all of that time to practice. It’s a whole lot of staying inside and keeping my face out of public view.”

“There weren’t any news stories about you.”

She felt something squeezing around her heart. “I know. That’s what made it so much worse. Locked away as a young woman, desperate to get out and knowing that they had me under lock and key so the mob that was after my dad wouldn’t find me.”

“Mob?”

She lowered her gaze to the countertop. “I know we all joked about my dad being in the business when you knew me. I just thought it was a fanciful story and laughed at it. Sure my dad had people catering to his every whim and need but I thought it was just because he was rich. He told me he had a lot of businesses making him a lot of money. That’s all he said.

“And all of that money? You know how they say when you die you can’t take it with you?” She didn’t wait for an answer to her rhetorical question. “Well, even when you only pretend to die you can’t take it either. It didn’t really matter to me, but it made my dad bitter.

“It ate him away from the inside out like a cancer. Sure, the federal government and my shoulder saved him from a bullet to the chest, but it didn’t help him deal with the confinement.

“I channeled my hours full of nothing into music. My dad just faded away until he died days after the prosecution rested their case.”

“He wanted to make the other men pay?”

“Sure. I’m sure he did.”

“And you… you didn’t testify?” She felt his hands softly grip her upper arms, gently rubbing up and down. “Did your dad make a deal?”

Heather bit into her lower lip until she felt a real bite of pain. “No deal. That gunshot I took? The blood I lost before they got me to a trauma center equipped to deal with it? I’d coded twice. When I woke up, I only had a vague memory of getting out of Tanner’s car and heading toward the house.

“After that, everything is blank until I came to in the hospital.”

He nodded, his own eyes looking away, distracted.

“So if you’re worried about me having another guy, I don’t have a lot of options. You think it was bad with my dad? Try a rotating trio of WITSEC agents for over five years. After the trial I was down to one and then it was streaming cameras like one of those Sorority House Sex sites, just no… sex.”

He leaned closer, his hand brushing her hair away from the back of her neck and over her shoulder. “So before we… You’ve never-”

“Yes. I was a virgin. Does that matter?”

She lifted her gaze and met Mark’s in the mirror. It was hard to believe that he was that weirded out by the idea.

“Remember?” She turned around in his loose embrace and looked up into his eyes. “Until I started working with Bart, I’d spent my entire adult life in a house with a federal agent. There wasn’t much going on in that house that wasn’t general knowledge. The first time I had my period in Federal care, they sent an agent out to the store to grab me some maxi pads. He came back with half a dozen boxes and a demand that I never have another period again.

“The few times that I… touched myself, I was so nervous that one of the agents might hear that nothing really happened.” Her stomach twisted and turned. It felt like she was in confession, but Mark definitely wasn’t a priest.

Far from it.

Being this close to him, his thighs pressing up against hers, her body was warming to him. Quickly.

“And then after you left WITSEC?”

She almost laughed at the continued questioning. “Old habits die hard?” She shrugged. “It’s hard to experiment with anything when you’re used to someone standing over you all the time.”

“Well, I’m standing over you.” His voice deepened. “How do you feel now?”

She licked her lips when she saw the pulse in his neck beating harder than it had a moment before.

“W-Where’s Julian?”

Mark grinned and his hands reached around to her butt and picked her up like she didn’t weigh a thing. “He’s out running, but I think we can get some exercise without leaving the house.”

“Oh? So this is about our health?”

Mark’s grin took on a wolfish look. “Oh yeah. All about our health.”

It felt like the sun was shining down around them. “Then how can I argue?”

Mark leaned in placed a kiss along the sensitive skin of her neck, his tongue teasing her with a flick.

The front door slammed, and they heard Julian before they saw him.

By the time they met him in the hallway, he was staring at them both with the muscles in his jaw hard enough to snap.

Her voice was caught in her throat, but Mark spoke for them both.

“What happened?”

Julian held up his phone. “Blackwood called. When you didn’t answer your phone, Ares, he called Alex who patched it through-”

“Spit it out!”

Julian nodded. “We’re moving to Seattle. Blackwood has a gig for Nix.”