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JACQUELINE

The next few days, I’ve stuck to my house without going or doing anything. I’ve avoided the phone like the plague. All I’ve done is binge serial killer documentaries.

Why?

I don’t even know.

Mostly, I just wanted to get out of my own head for a while.

I was mad.

Furious, in fact.

Completely enraged.

There was nothing I could do about it.

On the way home from the Gala the other day, I’d gotten into it with Izaiah over the fact he attempted to set me up with a suitable suitor.

A man he thought would be a good fit for me.

Definitely not a good fit. I hated the guy upon setting eyes on him.

Mostly because I knew who he was, along with the reputation he had for being an asshat to women.

I refused to give him the time of day after Izaiah made introductions. I spent the entire evening avoiding the man, along with making sure everything about the event went off without a hitch.

Now, I didn’t have anything else to do for charity events or whatnot for at least a month. This part I’m thankful for, but I still have to deal with the intolerable dinners Izaiah forces me to go to.

I should really get out of here and go into my studio. It would be good for me to get out there and lose myself in something other than documentaries.

Climbing out of my comfy chair, I make my way to the kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and head out the back door. I didn’t even bother grabbing my phone to bring with me.

I simply didn’t want to be bothered. Not with anything.

Outside, I cross the yard to my studio and step inside.

I flip the music on. Immediately, Theory of a Deadman starts playing with “Angel”.

I wasn’t in the mood for my art. I felt like dancing, and that’s what I was going to do.

Making sure all my supplies were in their proper places, I start off slow, moving through the middle of the space spinning and twirling.

I kick my leg out and flip it up toward my head.

I spin, leap, twirl, song after song. I don’t stop.

I don’t even pay attention to the fact the music is loud. I didn’t care.

To hell with anyone.

“You do realize you have neighbors, don’t you?”

The loud booming voice takes the place of the music, catching me off guard and causing me to stumble. Pivoting to face the man with the booming voice, I see it’s Wolf.

Oh no.

I did it again.

“I’m so sorry,” I stammer, feeling my face heating up at the sight of the man standing there, annoyance clear in his expression. “I didn’t even think. I should’ve turned the music down. I won’t forget again.”

Wolf cocks a brow and watches me closely. “You got good taste in music.”

He catches me by surprise with his words. They weren’t filled with the annoyance that I’d seen when the music was first cut off and I found him standing in my doorway.

“Thanks.” Crossing the room to where I keep a mini fridge, I pull out a bottle of water. While staring at him, I take a couple of sips before pulling the bottle from my lips. “I’ll do better at keeping in mind the volume from now on.”

Nodding, Wolf doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Appreciate it. Kid’s a light sleeper. Doesn’t have the best sleep schedule yet, so . . .”

“How old is your?—”

“He’s just over a month old,” he answers before I can finish asking.

Oh. My. God. Neighbor hottie has a tiny baby.

“I’ll be mindful. I didn’t know,” I tell him, sounding like an idiot.

Of course, I didn’t know because I didn’t see or ask.I just assumed when I shouldn’t have. I mean he didn’t tell me that he had a baby, just a kid. That’s a wide range of time frame for age.

Also, the last time I spoke to him, it wasn’t even really speaking. It was him telling me to turn the music down and walking away.

“You’re a good dancer.”

Oh hell.

He saw me dancing.

Not good. Alert. Alert. Alert.

I need to get him out of here, then run and hide where no one can see me.

“Ugh, thanks,” I manage to say, hoping my cheeks aren’t a bright red. “Um, I . . . ugh, you should probably get back to your son. I won’t turn the music up again. In fact, I need to get in the house and figure out something for dinner anyway.”

Wolf stares at me for another moment before smirking and stepping back. “I’ll let you get to it then.” He stops just before fully exiting my studio. “If you want, you could come by sometime and meet Kale.”

I blink and blink again. He just suggested I come and meet his son sometime. He can’t be serious.

“Yeah, sure.” I nod in agreement, though I don’t intend to do that. I couldn’t.

Once Wolf steps out of my sight, I turn everything off and head for the door. I glance in the direction of his house to see him standing on his back patio, looking down at his phone. Well, he was until I stepped outside, and his head twisted in my direction.

Looking away from him, I rush across the lawn and into my house. The sight of the men sitting in my living room and the man sitting at the island in my kitchen makes me wish I’d stayed in my studio.

“What are you doing here, Izaiah?” I demand. I’m not going to let the fact he’s not alone intimidate me.

“You’re not answering your phone,” he states, getting right to it. “Since you refused to speak to me on the phone, I had to come check on my little sister.”

“I told you I’d call you when I wasn’t so mad with you,” I snapped and stepped around the island, moving toward the fridge to see what I intended to cook for myself.

I wasn’t really in the mood to cook or really eat anything, but I knew my body.

If I didn’t, I would start to get lightheaded, and my sugar levels would drop.

I wasn’t a diabetic, but I was hypoglycemic.

“You know I don’t like it when you ignore me like that. I don’t care if you’re upset or not. I’m your brother, and you know better,” Izaiah mutters and looks at me like I am an annoyance to him right now.

Guess that’s just me, an annoyance to everyone.

I annoy my brother because I don’t jump at his every command.

I annoy my neighbor for blaring loud music. Though this time, he didn’t seem to mind so much.

“What is so important that you couldn’t allow me a few more days to get over being mad at you?” I ask, closing the fridge and looking at him.

“You did not tell me you had someone move into the house next door.”

Ah, now I get why he’s here.

“I’m not moving out of my house,” I tell my brother, determined to stand firm.

“Considering the man you’re living next to now is part of a motorcycle club that I know and have a history with, you will if I tell you to do so. For now, though, I won’t be demanding this of you.”

“You won’t be demanding this of me, period,” I snap, glaring daggers at my brother. “I’m a grown woman, big brother. I don’t need you constantly trying to run my life.”

Izaiah narrows his gaze and slowly gets to his feet. “I do what I do to protect you. To keep you safe. To ensure you have a beautiful life.”

“You want me to have a beautiful life? Let me do it as I please.” I didn’t need or want to go to those dinners.

I didn’t want to host the Gala and other charity parties.

Sighing, I shake my head. “I love you, Izaiah. I do. You’re my big brother.

I’d do anything for you, but I can’t keep living like this.

I don’t like it. I hate the dinners. I despise the parties.

I just want to be me. I want to do what I enjoy. ”

Izaiah watches me closely and nods. “Love you too, Jacqueline. I just don’t want to see you hurt. There are threats out there that I don’t want to see affect you.”

“Threats of what?” I demand, interrupting him with a huff. Throwing my hands in the air, I shake my head. “Wait, I know the answer to this. It’s not for me to worry about. Right?”

“You know I’m only doing this to protect you,” Izaiah states calmly.

Always calm.

Never once has he ever raised his voice to me. It’s always calm. Gentle. Even when he expresses his displeasure. To him, it’s like I’m this fragile being that can’t do anything for myself.

Even when I lost the chance to be a dancer, he treated me like I was glass and going to fall.

“Izaiah, please, just for once in my life, let me just be,” I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes ready to fall down my cheeks.

My brother doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he watches me before finally nodding. “Fine, we’ll change things. You want to open a gallery, I’ll help you. We’ll make it happen. Tomorrow, we can go look at spaces, but under one condition.”

“What’s that?” The question comes out right at the end of the last word.

“You allow me to handle the security for the gallery. Also, you at least have to go to dinner with me once a week. If at any time I believe you’re in danger, then you’ll listen to me without argument. You’ll also agree to a security detail that I see fit at any time I see fit to set one up.”

“That’s more than one condition,” I point out.

“It’s several things all rolled into one simple condition, you’re allowing your brother to see to your safety,” he retorts.

“Fine. Deal.” I could handle what he’s asking. I love my brother, and dinner once a week is perfect. The rest of it, I don’t have to worry about because nothing is going to happen to me.