“To my apartment. I need to get some things.”
“I’m not going up to your place with you? Are you crazy? I still haven’t decided if you’re an axe murderer or not.” Cy was so the type of man her mom had warned her about. Sexy, confident, and he probably had a motorcycle, too.
Cy just laughed. It was a low deep rumble that had her biting her lip. He was definitely the man her mother had warned her about. “That’s fine. You’ll be safe downstairs,” he answered as he slowed to a walk.
Gemma looked down at her sweaty shirt and ran a hand through her damp hair. Hotshot over there didn’t even have a bead of sweat on his body. “What’s downstairs?”
“A club. The bouncer inside can watch you.”
“You live above a club?”
“Yeah. I’m not home much, so the bouncers look after the place when I’m gone and I help them out sometimes when they need it. Works out pretty well,” Cy explained.
They rounded the corner and Gemma stopped in her tracks. A long line of young women in sky-high heels and short to nonexistent skirts stood around as they talked and applied makeup. Cars and vans belonging to paparazzi lined the street and flash bulbs brightened the night sky. “This isn’t just a club, this is the freaking Le Vue. It’s the hottest and hardest club to get into. Trust me, I know. I tried more than once to get into that VIP section.”
“Yeah, well, I guess you didn’t have the right connections.” Cy’s cocky smile reappeared and Gemma rolled her eyes.
Oh, she had made it in, but it hadn’t been easy and she didn’t know the number of people she flashed in her trashy getup. But it had been worth it. She had gotten information about one of the giant movie companies paying off the most respected review critic in the industry. During her investigation, she discovered that the movie companies bought almost all of his reviews, even though he touted himself as completely independent.
“Squeeee!”
Gemma cringed at the high-pitched screech and Fred popped his head out of the bag and growled at the woman in knee-high leather boots and a micro-mini running over to him.
“Cy!” The woman flipped her long hair over her shoulder and threw herself on him. Her bright red lips left a perfect imprint on his cheek as the flashbulbs from the paparazzi went wild. Wait, Gemma knew who that was. That was the actress from the summer’s big chick flick,
“Hey, Autumn,” Gemma heard Cy say. Autumn Hayes moved to block Gemma out now.
“I heard you were leaving L.A. for some Podunk town in the South. Want a going-away present?” Autumn dropped her voice when she asked her question and Gemma felt a little annoyed, somewhat jealous, and totally dumpy as she stood in her damp shirt, jeans, and trashed hair. Not to mention the woman with her exposed back and long tan legs was a knockout, rich, and famous. How could anyone not feel self-conscious being ignored by that?
“Actually, Gemma and I were on our way up to my place for a bit. But, thank you. If you’re ever in Podunk, let me know.”
“Gemma who? Is she that new actress on that action movie you just finished?” Autumn put her hands on her hips and looked around the crowd.
Cy leaned around Autumn and grabbed Gemma’s hand. “This is Gemma. It was nice seeing you again.” Gemma let Cy drag her past the stunned starlet and through the VIP entrance. He ducked behind the bar and into the kitchen before stopping. “Do you want to stay here or go up with me?”
Well, if Autumn Hayes was about to go upstairs with him, it couldn’t be that bad, right? “I’ll go up with you. Then we can go to my place.”
“I’ll be quick. You’ll need to be too.” Cy unlocked the door and walked through a large open living room filled with dark leather furniture and continued toward his bedroom. “You can grab a drink from the fridge if you want,” he called from the depths of his room.
Gemma looked around at the spotless, state-of-the-art apartment in confusion.
Bachelors she knew didn’t live like this. Of course, the bachelors she knew were still stuck thinking they were in college. Some boys just never want to grow up and move past that phase of their lives. She set down her bag and Fred jumped out, trotting straight to Cy’s bedroom. Guess he made his choice; now it was time for Gemma to do the same. The question was whether she should trust Cy Davidson enough to put her life in his hands.
Cy threw his clothes into a large suitcase as Fred sat on the bed watching him. He was trying to give Gemma enough time to make up her mind. He hoped she would decide to go with him or he’d have to take the situation into his own hands. No matter what she thought, he was going to do everything he could to keep her safe.
He walked into his bathroom and pulled out his Swiss army knife and began to chip away at the grout between the large white tiles behind the door. He wiggled the knife under the tile and lifted it to expose a safe. Cy entered his code on the keypad and then placed his thumb on the scanner. The safe’s lock released and he opened the heavy door. He pulled out his agency-issued Glock, his weapon of choice, and his documentation proving him an employee of the CIA. He also pulled out his spare credit cards and passport under his cover name, Cy Davidson, as well as his real ones.
Raising his t-shirt, he placed the gun at the small of his back and shoved the rest of the documents into his bag. He only had one picture in his whole apartment. On his nightstand was a picture of his family. He wrapped it in a shirt and put it in the bag before zipping it. The owner of the club was going to ship everything else to him in a couple of days.
It was time to find out if Gemma had made up her mind. “Let’s go see what your mommy decided.” Cy grabbed his bag and scooped Fred up in his arm. He walked into the living room and found Gemma looking out the tinted windows on the far side of the room.
“I can’t go,” Gemma said distantly. “My sister needs to be buried with all the love, respect, and honor that she deserves. I can’t leave her in some city morgue.”
“Gemma, listen to me. I’ll have someone from the agency claim your sister. She’ll be with U.S. heroes and can then be buried at a time and place of your choosing. But if I don’t get you away from here right now, I’m afraid you’ll join her. These are professionals and they won’t quit until you’re dead. I can protect you. Please, come with me.” Cy looked down and saw that he was holding her hands in his as he willed her to understand the seriousness of the situation.
Gemma took a deep breath, her hands shook in his. “Thank you for taking care of my sister. That means so much to me. I’ll go with you,” she paused, “on two conditions.” Gemma squeezed his hands. Her dark green eyes snapped in determination. “First, you agree to tell me everything. Nothing but the truth. No secrets and no hiding anything from me. Second, you promise you’ll find the men who are responsible for my sister’s death and bring them to justice. I want them dead, but justice is what my sister would've wanted.”
“Deal. Let’s go get your stuff.”
Cy drove his red F-type Jaguar convertible around the block twice. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual outside the six-story apartment complex, so he pulled into a spot to the right of the entrance.
“Can you see your apartment from here?” he asked as he put the car in park.
“Yes. The light’s off and everything looks okay, I guess,” Gemma said hesitantly as her eyes darted to every shadow surrounding the building.
“Okay, let’s go.” Cy pushed open his door and walked around to Gemma’s side. No one was shooting at him so he took that as a good sign as he opened her door.
They headed into the small lobby and he waited as she grabbed her mail in the bank of boxes before pushing the elevator button.
“Fourth floor,” Gemma told him as she got in. The soft classical music filled the small space as they rode up to her floor. “Bach.”
“Beethoven.”
Dammit, he was right. She could never get the right composers. The door opened and she stepped out and turned right. She walked the length of the hall to the end unit.
“Is this it?” Cy asked as they came to a stop in front of her door.
“No. I just stopped here for fun.” Gemma put her key in and hid her smile when she heard Cy snicker. Most
