my duty to protect you. Even if it’s from yourself. You should go out tonight.”
“I’m going out tomorrow night for Evah’s thing.”
“Is two nights in a row illegal?”
“No, but where would we even go? You learned last week I get recognized everywhere.”
That’s true. But I can’t sit here another minute and watch him struggle to write. It’s getting to me. I don’t like seeing him frustrated, and that’s not part of the job description.
The burnout thing is true. I witnessed it more times than I could count in the military, but while I can feign professional concern on the outside, something niggles in my subconscious, telling me it’s more than that.
Intrigue maybe. To know if the rumors are true.
“You don’t have Hollywood connections who can get you into a party? Maybe a club.” It would be harder to protect him at a club, but I have no doubt I could handle it.
“Going out is always a logistical nightmare. Paparazzi, fans, VIP areas … it’s all noise and chaos. We did that scene when we were younger, but now it makes me cringe.”
“What about a friend’s place?”
“The only friends I have are probably the guys, and we’ve lost touch since we split ways and went solo.”
“So get back in touch with one of them.”
Harley contemplates it and then pulls his phone out. “The only two who might be available are Denver and Blake. Ryder has his kid full-time, and Mason fell off the face of the planet about six months ago. Supposedly went back to Montana.”
“Didn’t I read somewhere Blake is on location shooting some action film?”
Harley’s gray-blue eyes narrow at me. “You read?”
“Yes. Muscle man read good.”
“No, I mean … you read tabloid and entertainment news?”
Oh, shit. “Uh, I might have this past week or so.”
“How much have you read?” Hard to miss the accusation in that.
“Why? What don’t you want me to find out?”
Harley stands. “You just can’t believe everything you read is all. Especially online.” He goes to storm out of the room, but I call after him.
“Where are you going?”
“To call Denver and get dressed. We’ll go hang with him for a while.”
I didn’t pry much out of him, but I did get him to take a break from writing. That’s more important.
Denver’s Malibu home sits on a street that is filled with cars.
Harley groans. “When he said he’d invite a few people over, this is not what I was expecting.”
“I guess your definition of a few differs from his?”
“Clearly. I … I don’t know if I can go in there.” He plays with the collar of his button down. He looks amazing in royal blue.
Not what you should be focused on, Brix.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I haven’t publicly dealt with the break-in situation yet. Everyone is going to ask.”
“Tell them you can’t legally speak about it, which is technically true.”
“I guess …”
I pull into the first available spot, about a quarter mile from Denver’s house, and kill the engine. “Question. What is it about the break-in that has you uptight? Apart from the obvious that someone invaded your personal space and it was scary.”
Harley seems to contemplate that. “It’s admitting that I’m vulnerable and helpless, and all I did the whole time that guy was in my house was stall and wait to be rescued like some weak—”
I hold up my hand. “I’m gonna have to stop you right there. You did the right thing. If you’d tried to overpower him, you don’t know what could’ve happened. It’s not your job to stop psychos from attacking you, and in those types of situations, you need to do what you can to survive. A lot of the time, survival is doing whatever they tell you to do until you get your chance to get out.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“There’s not much I’m allowed to tell you about the kinds of jobs we’ve done at Mike Bravo or when I was in the army, but …” I think of something I can tell him and turn in my seat to face him. “Okay, so during one of my deployments, we were in the Middle East going from town to town and doing a sweep for possible insurgents. Someone, a child about nine years old, had tipped us off that we were about to walk into an ambush, but they couldn’t tell us how many there were, where they were, or what kind of ambush. We couldn’t trust that the kid was telling us the truth because over