CHAPTER 86

jackson

B anging on the door pissed me off. I rolled away from West— thank fuck it hadn’t scared him awake —and glanced at the clock. Six. It was six in the fucking morning.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” West grumbled as it kept going. He dragged a pillow over his head. “Make them go the fuck away.”

“I’m about to fucking kill someone,” I retorted. I stormed to the door, disheveled as hell and not giving a fuck. When I threw open the door, the man standing on the other side gave me pause. He was well put together in a designer suit with perfectly trimmed hair and a perfectly shaved face. “What the fuck do you—”

“Have you seen the news this morning?” he demanded instead.

“No, considering I’ve been up all of five fucking seconds,” I growled. “Who the fuck are—”

“ Gay cowboy brings his convicted murderer boyfriend to a family-friendly event. And that’s a direct title,” he snapped. Ah, fuck me. That wasn’t the kind of press I wanted. To make matters worse, the man held up a printout of an article, complete with a picture of me and West kissing after breaking into the bull-holding area. “My favorite part is where you broke into the animal pens to make out with said convicted murder.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. I hadn’t even seen anyone else in there with us. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your new agent and the man who gets to clean up your mess.” He offered me a hand. I took it, a little dazed by the idea of a new agent on such late notice. No notice was more like it. “Nathan Stark. It’s nice to meet you.”

“What the fuck happened to Amy?”

“I removed her as your representation effective immediately,” Nathan said. “And then I came here to deal with this mess.”

“Why you?” I asked, unable to help my curiosity.

“It’s my firm that represents you, Mr. Myles,” he told me. “When you look bad, it makes my firm look bad.”

“Solid reasoning.” I opened the door further to let him in. He wandered in while West sat up in bed, yawning. Fuck, I wished I could’ve let him get more sleep. That wasn’t happening.

“And I assume this is the convicted murderer of a boyfriend?” Nathan sounded a little too amused as his gaze raked West over head to toe. I didn’t like that look on his face. And I sure as fuck wasn’t entertained by his antics.

“I’d watch the next fucking words out of your mouth, Stark,” I warned. “You leave him alone, you hear me?”

“While I appreciate the bravado, I’m here to save your career, remember?”

“And I’ll torch my career if you dare to treat him like crap.”

“It’s fine,” West cut in before either of us could say anything. “Convicted murderer can hold his own.”

“You weren’t fucking convicted because it was self-defense,” I reminded him. I fucking hated hearing him call himself that—especially not with everything I knew about the situation.

“Was it?” Nathan raised a brow. “That’s good information to have. I can work with that.”

”I was already in jail for armed robbery when it happened,” West said.

“That makes it harder.”

“Why don’t you go get something to eat?” I suggested to West. Anything to get him the fuck out of here. He didn’t need to be a part of this .

“That’s a bad idea,” Nathan interjected. “Him? Going out in public? The story is just spreading. I don’t need more bullshit happening.”

“I’ll text you the house the girls rented,” I told him, ignoring my agent. “And I’ll let Darla know you’re on your way.”

“I can hold my own,” West snapped.

“I know, but let me come up with a plan. Please?” I didn’t want to put the pressure on him, but this was my fucking career. Even if I only had a few good years left, I didn’t want them burnt to a crisp by gossip if I could avoid it.

Things were awkward as fuck with Nathan just standing there as West grabbed some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Admittedly, I wasn’t looking any fucking better, considering I was in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. Not that I cared if I made him uncomfortable either.

Maybe I did a little, considering what he was about to deal with to help my career, but I was still pissed about how he talked to West.

I didn’t say a fucking word as I fired off messages to Darla, giving her a brief update, talking her down from murder, and letting her know I was sending West her way to lay low.

When he came out of the bathroom, West’s expression was unreadable. He grabbed my baseball hat off the dresser and started for the door. I went after him.

“It’ll be okay,” I promised.

“I’m sorry,” West muttered. Curling a hand around the back of his head, I pulled him close enough to place a kiss on his forehead.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” I murmured against his skin. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he backed up, pulling my hat down low over his face.

“Let me know you get there,” I said. He made a sound but said nothing else. As I watched him leave, shoulders slouched and head dipping low, I sent another message to Darla because I had a feeling West wasn’t planning to go to her house.