Page 16 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

She avoids my eyes and keeps them trained on the floor, her cheeks that bright pink I’ve grown used to.

I love the effect I have on her, the way her body reacts to me.

What I don’t particularly like, however, is the way she’s hiding from me.

Why was she embarrassed for me to see her?

In the past, when I’ve been in her presence she’s never once shown any signs of being insecure or embarrassed.

She’s always radiated confidence and comfort in her own skin so I’m not sure why she’s acting like this now.

I’m about to ask when the wraith that is her agent approaches, her overly made-up face scowling at Ivory which only makes my jaw tighten. “What are you doing? Let’s go. Everyone is waiting for you.”

I wait for Ivory to tell her off. The little devil doesn’t let anyone speak to her that way.

From my research on her, she has quite the temper and the mouth on her.

So I wait for her to say something to Nira or Nara, whatever her name was, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she just follows her and submits and I follow after her, appalled.

Not much catches me off guard or surprises me, but this?

Why isn’t she standing up for herself? I’d have to have a talk with her about this after.

Nara ushers Ivory into a set with a fake bedroom.

It’s all decorated in pink, perfect for Ivory, and has satin sheets and pink everything.

The photographer appears and immediately roams his eyes over Ivory and I feel my fists balling up at my sides.

I want to strangle him and every other man in this room for looking at her.

After that, I’d probably strangle all the men that will see these photos.

The thought of anyone else’s eyes on her infuriates me, enrages me.

Nothing infuriates me more than the poses they have her doing.

They’re sexual in nature and I find it infuriating that she’s okay with this.

They’re sexualizing her. If they want to showcase her so badly, why can’t they put her in more clothing and display her impressive capabilities with a guitar? Why does it have to be this?

Selene Stone will be getting a phone call from me later. I’m even going to ask her what Nara’s deal is.

I watch as Ivory smiles in some shots, the way her body relaxes and I realize she’s doing something she clearly loves to do.

She isn’t the type of woman who would do something just for the check.

She has to enjoy what she’s doing and she is.

I watch the entire time, completely captivated by her just like everyone else in the room.

When the shoot finishes about twenty minutes later, she makes her way over to me, but Nara cuts her off and starts talking to her.

I watch Ivory’s face and watch as her happiness fades and her eyes turn sad.

Whatever Nara is saying to her, it’s crushing her.

I can’t hear a single word that’s being said, but I don’t have to.

I’d tell Nara off myself if it stopped that look on Ivory’s face.

I storm over to them and Ivory catches sight of me over Nara’s back. As I approach I catch the last sentence Nara speaks, “You aren’t gonna get any more opportunities looking like that.”

“Looking like what?” I interrupt, malice in my voice. Is she seriously insulting Ivory? Nara is either blind or just a straight-up bitch if she actually thinks Ivory looks anything but perfect.

Nara whirls her head at me and it almost looks like she tries to raise her eyebrows, but there must be a disgusting amount of Botox in her face because the muscles don’t move.

She smiles when she sees me and waves her hand around like what she just said to Ivory wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh, nothing. Ivory and I were just talking about her camera presence.”

I look at Ivory for confirmation, but her eyes are locked on something behind me and she looks like she’s in another place mentally. I don’t fail to notice the defeat in her eyes though. “I think her camera presence was excellent, don’t you?” I ask Nara, condescension in my tone.

She laughs innocently, “I think there’s always room for improvement.”

I don’t smile. “Not when you’re already perfect.”

Ivory snaps out of whatever mental zone she just went into and looks up at me, surprise on her face. Her eyes are glazed over and she just assesses me in awe as if she can’t believe I just called her perfect. I can’t believe I just said that either.

Nara’s eye twitches as she speaks, “That’s very sweet of you.”

I ignore her and focus on Ivory, “Are you all finished?”

She nods.

I step aside and motion for her to make her way to the dressing room. As usual, I follow close behind her until she makes it to the door and enters. I wait outside for her to change and when she’s done, she steps out in the clothes she was wearing before.

In the car, we still haven’t said a word to each other since our words on the set. All I can think about is Nara’s rude comments and jabs at Ivory. I want to know what she said to her before I stepped in. “What did Nara say to you before I came over?” I ask her, keeping my eyes on the road.

Ivory’s breath catches and she stammers, “Nothing. She was just talking about my camera presence. She said I looked a little tired.”

I know right away it’s a lie. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”

“Mhm,” she answers and I look over to find her playing with a pink strand of her hair in her fingers.

“Ivory,” I assert.

She looks up at me right away. “Why do you allow that woman to speak to you that way? From what I know about you, you would never let anything like that slide.”

Ivory pouts and looks down, “You don’t know anything about me, Dallas.”

Her response catches me off guard. If only she knew how much I actually knew about her.

I know the girl has a little sass in her, I don’t call her Little Devil for nothing, but this?

This attitude is new. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let her walk all over you like that, agent or not.

Does Selene know that Nara speaks to you that way? ”

Her head whips at me and her eyes widen, “Do not tell Selene.”

So Selene doesn’t know that Nara treats Ivory that way. Interesting. “Why do you not want Selene to know?”

She takes a long breath and exhales, “Because Nara is the best in the business and if I want to be successful in something other than playing the bass, I need her. That doesn’t mean I have to like her.”

“I’m sure there are hundreds of other agents who are just as good as Nara,” I argue.

“Can you drop it?” She snaps at me.

I turn my face to find her staring daggers at me. She looks just as perfect when she looks like she wants to stab me as she does when she’s happy, content. I don’t hold her attitude against her. She’s under a lot of stress. “Okay,” I agree.

She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out the window in silence for the rest of the ride.

When we make it back to her house, she retreats to her bedroom and I set up shop at the kitchen counter. I still have a couple of hours worth of security footage to go through considering there are twelve different cameras at the set.

I get so lost in the footage, watching frame by frame, that I don’t even notice the sun goes down and the sky grows dark. I hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs and I don’t look up. I’m almost finished on the last frame and I’m getting incredibly frustrated and angry.

“Are you still watching security footage?” Ivory’s small voice asks from the kitchen entrance.

I clench my jaw and slam my computer shut. I angrily rub my face with my hands, my stubble raking against my rough palms.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

I look up to watch her retreating from the kitchen. She thinks I snapped because of her. “Ivory,” I stop her. I’m not angry at her. I’m angry because of what I have to tell her.

She slowly turns around and sucks in a small breath, “Yeah?”

“You might want to sit down.”

She shakes her head and her face pales, “I’m fine.”

I take a long breath and exhale aggressively, “Your stalker is more advanced than I gave him credit for.”

I watch the panic set in on her features, “What do you mean?”

I try my best to soften my eyes because I know what I have to tell her isn’t easy, but I don’t know how to be soft. “There’s no trace of him on the security footage.”

“W-what?” She whispers.

“He isn’t in any of the footage,” I repeat myself.

She walks closer to the island and grips the edge to steady herself and I straighten. She looks like she might pass out and in this kitchen, she could hit her head and get hurt. I angle myself so that I can grab her if I need to before she hits the ground. “How is that possible?”

I give it to her straight, “He must’ve known that I’d go through the footage to find him. He had to have beat me to it and removed himself from the footage before I got to it.”

Her eyes glaze over, “So what you’re saying is that he’s a step ahead?”

I sigh, nodding. “For now.”

She reaches for her face with her palms, “How did my life get so fucked up?” She asks herself.

I push off the barstool and take a step toward her. I reach for her wrists in my palms and pull them away from her face. Her head is angled down, “Look at me,” I command her.

She looks up and the sight of the tears in her eyes has a sharp pain shooting through my chest. “Just because he removed himself from footage doesn’t mean that I won’t still catch him.”

“So what does it mean then?” Her voice cracks as a betraying tear rolls down her cheek.

I wipe it away with my thumb and rest my hands on her shoulders.

I notice how her body relaxes into me. “It means that he’s just a little smarter than I thought he was.

” And I have a theory to back that up. If he knew I was Ivory’s new security, that means he definitely did his homework on me.

No stalker wouldn’t look into someone who’s spending so much time around the object of his obsession.

If he did his homework on me like I think he did, that means that he knows who I am and what I do for work.

He knows I excel in tech and security which is why he went in and cleaned the footage. “But I’m smarter,” I promise her.

She sees something in my face. Something that shows her I mean what I’m saying, that I would never let anything hurt her. She nods, “Thank you.”

I nod, removing my hands from her shoulders. If I continue touching her any longer, I may do something uncontrollable like kiss every square inch of her body. There will be plenty of time for that, but for now, she needs to trust me.

“Go to bed, you look exhausted.”

She yawns suddenly and gives me a weak smile. She takes a step back and then another until she’s walking all the way to the stairs. She stops at the first step and says, “Goodnight, Dallas.”

“Goodnight, Ivory.”