Nixon: An m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 4
“What?” Dante growls out, flinging the door open with a pissed-off expression.
“Phone’s for you.” I hold out my cell.
“Hello?” he answers, narrowing his eyes at me.
I’m not sure what Elanor says, but it makes him sigh, and he shuts the trailer door again. It’s a bit of a wait for Dante to finish his conversation, but once he has, he opens the door, shoving my phone at me.
“Thanks for tattling on me,” he grumbles as he stalks past me.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, following him to my SUV.
“Take me home,” he says dryly, the irritation evident.
I nod and text Knox, alerting him to the change in plans.
“Would you like to stop anywhere first?” I inquire when we’re in the car.
“Actually, I’d like a pizza if that won’t get me murdered,” he bites out.
Back to this again, great. I don’t argue, not wanting to fight.
“What kind? Do you have a preference for locations?”
He rattles off his order, and after I call it in, I head toward the address.
The drive is quiet. I almost feel bad for Dante. Part of me wants to know where his head is at. The other part of me is aware it’s none of my business, so I don’t pry. However, it also serves as a great reminder that I can’t let myself get close to Dante. If I do, it will lead us down a far too dangerous path for my liking.
Chapter 5
Dante
Nixon places my pizza on the counter. “Do you need anything else?” he asks with a kind, formal voice that actually irritates me further.
“Yeah,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest, realizing a little too late that it makes me look like a petulant child. “I need you to stop fucking with my life. If I want to mess everything up, that’s my prerogative.”
Leaning against the island counter, he raises a brow at me. It pisses me off even more and turns me on at the same time. Fuck, this man is aggravating.
“If you actually wanted to fuck everything up, you’d be out right now. You don’t care what I say.”
I drop my arms, balling my hands into fists at my sides, almost ready to release all my pent-up frustration.
“Are you always such a know-it-all?” I bite out, not letting go quite yet.
The moment I take the lid off this bottled-up anger, shit will hit the fan, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.
“I’m just pointing out the obvious.” He sighs and runs his hand over his face like he’s had enough of my shit or something.
“Oh, I’m obvious, am I? Well, if I’m so see-through, tell me more about me, then.”
“You’re a spoiled rotten brat who has had everything handed to you on a silver platter since making a name for yourself,” Nixon starts, leaning toward me with fire in his eyes. “You had every little detail of your life planned out to a T, but getting drugged has tipped your world on its side, and you don’t know how to handle it anymore. To you, everything feels like it’s up in the air right now, and all of the little things are setting you off. You’re letting people push your buttons when you would normally let it roll off your back. And even though you’re pissed at me for calling Elanor, you’re also grateful. You’re just too proud to admit it. You act like you hate me, but the truth of the matter is, I’m just an easy target to take your rattled emotions out on.”
Well, shit, he actually hit most of it on the head. How does he do that? Clearly, Elanor did find the best when she hired Nixon, but I won’t be letting that secret out of the bag. I’m good at keeping my mouth shut when I want to.
“You don’t fucking know anything.” I scoff and make my way to the other side of the island to grab a plate.
“Really? What part did I get wrong?”
“All of it,” I lie, and Nixon laughs. He actually fucking laughs, which makes the anger in my veins that’s been simmering under the surface boil.
“I thought you were an amazing actor. How are you such a shit liar?” he goads.
“Well, you’re an asshole.”
“You’re not wrong. But I own my shit, unlike brats like you.”
“Well, we’ve already discussed how I like being a brat, so what are you going to do about it?” I challenge, but the undertone to my question is different. There isn’t a bite like I normally have when I’m talking to Nixon.
“If you were mine, you’d be over my knee already with a bright red ass, making it hard for you to sit for a week,” he states before pushing off the counter and stalking toward the door. “I’ll be back in the morning. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
My cock is hard, and I’m glad I’m standing behind the island where he can’t see how turned on I am by the idea of being spanked.
“I’ve never been very kinky, but I kind of want Brittany to spank me now,” Anna says, coming down the hall from where she was obviously spying.
“Is my life entertainment for you?” I question, grabbing the plate I meant to get a while ago.
“Obviously,” she teases with a giant grin. “I kind of want to call off my flight to Paris next week so I can stay around and witness everything unfurl here.”
“Well, I’m glad I make your life less boring.” I scoff as I plate up two pieces of pizza.
“Why are you so hard on him?” Anna asks, pulling out a slice of pizza without worrying about a plate.
“He just gets under my skin,” I lie.
Anna giggles and takes a bite of her pizza. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s super hot?”
I glare at her. “Obviously, he’s attractive, but he’s not my type.”
Anna laughs harder. “Babe, he’s exactly what you need in a man. He puts you in your place, and while you love pushing back, you also enjoy how controlling he is.”
“Stop living in my head,” I whine before heading toward the living room.
“You should open up that you’re gay. Maybe you can have an employee-with-benefits relationship on the side.” Anna waggles her brows at me as she plops down next to me on the couch.
“What if he isn’t gay?”
Anna shoots me an are-you-being-serious look.
“I don’t think straight men threaten to spank other men,” she mocks, and she isn’t wrong there.
I chew on my pizza, pondering her words, when she asks the question I figured was coming. “What happened today? Elanor texted me about you wanting to go out for drinks. That isn’t like you. You’re a homebody through and through.”
“Jason Millsworth made a comment about our breakup,” I whisper, avoiding eye contact with my best friend.
“What did that twatwaffle say?” Anna almost growls.
“That you were too good for me. Said he wasn’t sure how I kept you for as long as I did. Went on and on about how I probably wouldn’t be able to pick up a girl if I tried. I’m not sure why it got to me. Everyone knows he’s a womanizer, and there are even rumors he’s abusive. His opinion shouldn’t mean anything to me, but it got under my skin today. I guess it’s just a mixture of everything.”
“I’m sorry, babe.” She leans over to kiss my cheek. “Maybe we could have picked a better time to do this breakup.”
I shake my head. “When would be a better time? It’s probably for the best that everything is happening all at once. I just wasn’t planning on trying to figure out what I want in life right now. I knew it would be something I had to come to terms with eventually but wasn’t expecting it to be now. Which is pathetic, isn’t it? I’m twenty-four. I should know what I want in life, but I don’t.” I let out a dry laugh, accompanied by a few tears. “I wish I was strong like you.”
Anna takes my plate, puts it on the coffee table, and wraps her arms around me. “We all take our journey at different paces. What’s right for one isn’t always right for the next person. I know why you’ve stayed in the closet for as long as you have, and if that’s where you want to stay for now, that’s okay.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling my attention from Anna. The moment I see the caller ID, I sigh.
“It’s like we thought of them and made them call,” I whisper, showing Anna the screen. She grimaces when she sees who it is.
I take a deep breath before answering the phone on speaker. Anna needs to be privy to this conversation, I’m sure.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I just heard about the red carpet.” She snivels on the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”
“Um… yeah, I’m fine. It was a week ago now. I’ve almost forgotten about it,” I lie.
“Well, I’m glad, baby. I would have flown out there, but life gets busy,” she states.
Everything has always been more important than me in my parents’ life. I’m used to it by now, but it doesn’t make it suck any less.
I’m pretty sure the only reason they had me was because it was what everyone else wanted for them, to build that perfect fairy-tale life. I’m sure they would have had more kids they didn’t care about if it wasn’t for the complications Mom had when she gave birth to me, leading to her having a hysterectomy afterward.
“Is there anything else you need, Mom? I’ve got to be up early in the morning for work.”
“Oh, right. Your father still wishes you would quit that sinful job.”
I shoot Anna a look and stick my finger toward my mouth, pretending to gag.
“Well, that isn’t happening. So was there something else you needed?”
“We also heard about your breakup.” I’m sure that’s the real reason she called. “Are you sure you are done-done? Anna is such a sweet young lady. We were hoping you’d get married soon.”
“Sorry, Mom. It’s over. Anna and I are still friends, but we don’t love each other that way anymore,” I say, giving her my rehearsed line.
“What if you fly home for a few days? I could introduce you to a few new members of the church.”
I clench my jaw. “You know I’m not religious. That probably wouldn’t be the best idea.” Anna squeezes my hand.
“Honey, don’t you think you should reconsider that? Jesus loves you,” she tells me like she has a hundred times.
“That’s how you feel, Mom, but I’m not changing my stance on this.”
“I’ll pray for you,” she states and ends the call.
No ‘I love you.’ No checking to see how I’m actually doing. Only filling an agenda, like always.
My father doesn’t talk to me because I turned away from the church. He told me it wasn’t becoming of a pastor’s son to turn his back on God. I would love to see what he’d have to say if I ever told him I’m gay. I’m sure I would be completely cut off at that point. Even though I don’t have the best relationship with my mom, it still terrifies me to think she would outcast me for something I can’t control.
“Your parents suck.” Anna lays her head on my shoulder.
I rest my chin on her head and sigh. “At least yours are amazing.”
She smiles. “They really are. They’re nervous about me coming out publicly but will stand behind me if I’m ready.”
“When are you doing that?” I ask, my stomach turning a little.
“Not for a while. I don’t want the world to think I moved on too quickly,” Anna replies with a wink, easing my anxiety a bit. “My parents were asking if you wanted to find a boyfriend now.”
I shake my head. “It wouldn’t be fair to anyone as long as I’m still in the closet.”
We stay silent for a while, curled up on the couch together before my eyelids get heavy.
“It’s time for bed,” I say, then stretch and let out a giant yawn.
“I think I was half asleep on your shoulder,” Anna mumbles.
I chuckle. “I’ve got comfortable shoulders.”
“Before you go to bed, I want to ask you something.” I nod for her to continue. “If things were different, would you want a boyfriend?”
A yearning stirs inside me, and I nod. “Yeah, I think I would… but it’s not possible.” Sighing, I run a hand over my face.
“I’m going to say something I’ve wanted to say for a long time. Just don’t hate me, okay?”
“I promise I won’t hate you.”
“Would it really be the end of the world if your parents shut you out? They already treat you like shit. Why do you even want them in your life? I mean, I get that they are your family, which makes this really hard, but I’m also your family. Maybe sometimes a family you choose is better than the one you are born with. If they push you away, I’ll always be here.”
I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair as I cry.
“I’m just scared,” I confess.
She nods, rubbing my back. “I get it, babe, but I’m here. I promise. You won’t be alone, no matter what you choose. I’m always here for you.”
We hold each other for a few minutes before deciding that it really is time to go to bed. But sleep isn’t easy to come by tonight. A million thoughts flitter around my brain like butterflies swarming a field of flowers.
Am I really happy with the life I’m living right now? Or am I ready to say fuck the consequences and live my life for me?
Chapter 6
Nixon
The week has flown by. Thankfully, for the most part, Dante and I have fallen into a routine. He’s still a brat with a sharp tongue, but he doesn’t push me as hard as he used to, and he isn’t making reckless decisions that put his safety at risk.
“Could I ask you a few more questions about the red-carpet night?” I ask Dante when I pull into his driveway.
“Haven’t I told you everything already?” He groans with the same attitude he always has when he talks to me. At least he’s consistent. I’ll give him that.
“That’s the thing. I don’t think you have. My team is busting their asses trying to figure out who the hell this guy is and why he wanted to kill you, but if you aren’t a hundred percent honest with me, then we can’t help you.” I turn around to look at him in the back seat after I put the car in park.
“Fine, come in and ask your questions,” he grumbles, then gets out of the car and rushes to his front door.
Well, shit. I kind of expected him to put up more of a fight.
“What do you want to know?” he asks, pouring himself a glass of wine when I join him in the kitchen.
“You drink wine?”
He scoffs. “I might not be a big drinker, but I do have the occasional drink here and there.”
I nod. “Makes sense. If you didn’t drink at all, you wouldn’t have taken that shot,” I supply. “Okay, there are a few things that aren’t making sense to me,” I start while Dante sips his drink. As he lowers the glass, my focus is drawn to his lips and the way he licks them clean.
Fuck, Dante is too distracting. He’s making this job so damn hard—among other things.
“What’s not making sense? It’s all pretty black and white to me. He asked us some questions, we took a shot, he drugged me, end of story,” Dante rattles off, snippy and put off.
“Yeah, I’ve got that, but what questions did he ask? Did he make any weird comments? Did he say something that was way out of the ordinary? I need more, Dante.”
Dante stares at me for a moment before taking a deep inhale and slowly blowing it out.
“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave these walls. I don’t care if it will benefit your team,” he states, staring intently into my eyes. The usual fire that lurks there is missing, replaced with insecurity.
“I promise. If it’s information they need, I’ll figure out a way to notify them without spilling your secrets. Whatever you say right now won’t ever leave my lips.”
“When we made our way to him, he said it was nice to meet me again. I don’t recall meeting him, but he told me we met on the Music in the Trees set four years ago. You’ve seen what a set can be like. It’s filled with hundreds of people that I’ll never remember. When I apologized for not recognizing him, he looked upset.”
“Upset or angry?”
“Upset. Like he really thought I would remember him, but I have no idea why.”
“Okay, what else?”
“He had a stack of index cards to ask us questions for the game. He used them for Anna’s question, but he went off script for mine.”
I’m thankful he’s finally opening up. This is all helpful information and would have been nice to have weeks ago. It’s beyond frustrating that he wouldn’t just tell me all this from the beginning, but I guess I should be grateful I have it now.
We tried to run the sketch Slate did through all our databases but kept coming up short. Whoever this guy is doesn’t have a prior history with the police. Without knowing where to look next, we didn’t have anything else to compare his picture against. But knowing he worked on the Music in the Trees set, we might be able to find something now.
“What did he ask you?” I push, hoping Dante isn’t about to close off.
“What does it matter?” He scoffs, picks up his wine glass, and walks past me toward the living room.
“It could give us a motive,” I tell him, trailing behind him.
Dante sets the glass on the coffee table and sits on the large couch. I take a seat in the oversized recliner and wait for him to talk. If I keep pushing, he’ll shut down completely, and we won’t be much better off than we were before this conversation started.
“He asked when did I know I was gay,” he whispers.
My brows shoot up before I have a chance to cool my expression. I’m not normally caught off guard, but that isn’t what I was expecting him to say. But now it makes total sense as to why he wasn’t being forthright with the information.
“Anna was a pro and played it off, but the way he was staring at me told me it wasn’t a hunch. He knew the truth, but I don’t know how he knew. I’ve been extremely careful to never let that secret out.”
“Were you seeing anyone at the time of the filming?” I ask, trying to help Dante come up with the answers he doesn’t have.
