Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Meadow

Ipeer out the front window of the spa, not exactly sure how I feel about the black Escalade parked at the curb. Or the muscle man leaning against the driver’s side door with his hands folded in front of his lap, looking lethal as a viper. When Walker was standing in front of me, his dark navy eyes twinkling—and that mouth saying all the right things—the idea of being guarded seemed totally reasonable.

But Walker is not here now. He’s off somewhere dealing with “activity” and I’m wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

I think I might have formed some kind of entanglement with the most notorious crime boss in Boston. Yeah…I think that’s what happened? I mean, I was offered enough money to pay off my student loans, buy myself a sick ride and pay rent for a year. I took the offer, because it was too good to pass up, plus there are worse ways to make a hundred grand. A lot worse.

There are probably a lot of women out there who would pay a man who looks like Walker to go down on them. Yet somehow I walked away with my first male-provided orgasm and the cash.

Not to mention, Walker wants seconds.

A tingle works its way through my belly and turns my nipples hard. The sensitive flesh between my thighs heats and turns pliant at the memory of his tongue licking me with such relish. And that finger. How full, how possessed it had made me feel.

I thought the goal was to be no one’s possession, though. I’d been present for the forming and destruction of my mother’s relationships. Seen how they made her crumble. I’d vowed never to let my path be dictated by others. That’s why I’d clawed my way to where I am now. With my own place, a respectable job. One that I loved. How could I let my resolve vanish in the blink of an eye?

Even with my shiny check for a hundred grand, I still won’t stop working. I love it too much. I love being useful. Being productive. With my new nest egg, I’ll work even harder to make up for the advantage I’ve been given.

A familiar man strides down the sidewalk, only to be halted by my bodyguard. Oh crap. My skeevy boss was now being interrogated by Walker’s employee. That was not good. The man who employed me had a whopping case of little man syndrome and wouldn’t take kindly to being questioned by the much bigger dude. We would all be victims to his inevitable bad mood. Let’s just hope he doesn’t find out the man outside the SUV is posted there because of me.

Randall blows through the front door of the spa a minute later, his loud entrance shattering the tranquility. There are two massage therapists in back with clients, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Even with his pale face pinched and sneering, he still gives me the usual lecherous once over, his gaze lingering on my breasts, before launching into his tirade. “Who the fuck is that goon outside?” He drops his coffee onto the Carla’s desk and we share a discreet eye roll. “He had the nerve to ask for identification. Outside of my spa!”

“So…” I cough a little. “Did he mention why he’s there?”

“No. He told me to mind my own goddamn business. After interrogating me about mine!” Randall paces. “I should call the cops.”

“Maybe he is the cops?” Carla suggests. “Undercover or something?”

I send Carla a grateful look. She’s good people.

Randall snorts. “Cops don’t usually have neck tattoos.” He rubs at his jaw, reining himself in with a dramatic sigh. “How is business today?”

“Great.” Carla flips through the book. “I’ve made several bookings.”

“I’m just waiting for my last client,” I add, with a bright smile, rising from my chair and heading for the back hallway. “I’m going to go set up.”

Randall leans a little too close as I pass, his tongue snaking out to wet his fleshy lower lip. “Need some help?”

Voluntarily put myself in a dark room with this dickhead? Not a chance. “No, thank you. I’m fine on my own.”

After his encounter with my bodyguard, Randall must feel the need to recapture the upper hand, because he doesn’t take the hint. Instead he follows me down the hallway, far too closely for comfort. I speed up, intending to slam the door of my massage room in his face and lock it, but before I reach the entrance, his hand slides into my right back pocket and squeezes my butt cheek.

Indignation crowding in my throat, I turn on a dime, fists balled at my sides. “What are you doing, Randall?”

To my horror, he’s holding my check from Walker. It’s pinched between his thumb and forefinger, confusion blanketing his features. “What’s this?” Before I can grab the check, he unfolds it, eyes gaping. “Holy shit. A hundred thousand dollars? Where the hell…who the hell?”

Again, I reach for the check, but he evades my grasp. “Give it back.”

Disgust slowly replaces his confusion. “Walker McManus?” He waves the piece of paper between us. “Have you been using my spa to whore yourself out to the fucking mob?”

“What?” I laugh at the ludicrousness of that question. “Of course I haven’t.”

He seems almost excited by the pieces he thinks he’s putting together. “That big prick out on the sidewalk. He’s there for you, isn’t he?”

I scratch my eyebrow. “Um…no?”

His laugh is derisive. “You must be some lay if McManus himself is coming here to tap you. To put one of his goons on protection duty. And pay this much for a ride of that—”

“Watch yourself,” I interrupt, shaking. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. I’m a certified massage therapist. I have this job because I’m amazing at what I do.”

“Amazingly arrogant.”

I shrug one shoulder. “Confidence isn’t a crime.”

His upper lip curls, like he’s going to insult me, but he changes tack instead. I back up as he saunters forward, blatantly checking me out in a way that makes me wish for a steaming hot shower. “All right, honey. I’ll let you continue this little fuck for cash operation in my spa, but I want something out of the deal.”

My back flattens on the wall and a shiver of nervousness courses through me. “There is no deal.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He reaches a hand toward my breast and I smack it away. “Come on, Meadow. I’ll let you service McManus on my massage tables and you let me sample the goods, whenever I feel like it.” His features arrange in a resentful smirk. “Why should he get something I can’t have? He’s not better than me.”

“Don’t come any closer,” I whisper, wishing like hell my muscles were as big as my temper, so I could body slam this jerk. But alas, he has a few inches on me and several pounds, though his body is soft, where Walker’s is hard. I’m still not sure I could fight off my boss. We’re halfway through the hour, so no one will emerge from the massage rooms for another thirty minutes. I should scream for help. I know I should, but I will get fired. And I don’t want to lose this job.

For all Randall’s disgusting qualities, he’s tenacious. I know he won’t rest until he bad mouths me to every spa in Boston. My résumé won’t be considered anywhere if I get fired from my first job after three weeks.

I think of Walker. He would help me.

But do I want that help? Do I want to rely on this man I’ve just met when I’ve worked so hard to rely on no one but myself?

There’s the check, of course. That kind of money would carry me quite a way until I could figure out my next move. Maybe I could even open my own massage studio. I don’t know anything about running a business, but I can learn.

He mistakes my calm for resignation. “What’s it going to be, Meadow?”

I knee him in the junk. Hard enough that his eyes bulge out and he doubles forward. “Son of a bitch,” he wheezes.

I try to snatch the check out of his hand, but he rips it to shreds.

“No,” I gasp, falling to my knees, trying to rake up the check with trembling fingers. “You didn’t. You didn’t.”

Randall twists an angry fist in my collar and yanks me to my feet, slamming me up against the wall. Lights blink in front of my eyes. “Oh, you’re definitely giving it up now, bitch—”

Loud footsteps and the sound of a gun cocking cut off whatever Randall is going to say next. His body turns slightly and I can see my bodyguard looming behind him, blocking out all the light in the hallway. Carla peeks in from the receptionist area and I know in my bones she’s the one who alerted my savior.

“Hands off the girl,” my bodyguard booms, shaking his head. “You just made a big mistake, asshole.”

I’m not sticking around to witness the fallout.

The fight or flight adrenaline is slowly draining, leaving nothing but shocked anger. This whole situation was wrought by my bad decision.

And that bad decision was Walker McManus.

Pushing to my feet shakily, I quickly retrieve my purse from the locked cabinet in my massage room and wheel back into the hallway, vaulting over his prone form.

“Hold on, now,” the bodyguard says, sounding nervous. “I’m going to need you to stay put, miss.”

“Sorry, no can do.” I swipe at the embarrassing moisture forming in my eyes. “I’m out. And please tell Mr. Walker I mean that in every sense. I’m out.”

“You’re also fired!” Randall shouts at me as I exit, turning quickly at the sidewalk and hurrying toward a shortcut through an ice cream shop’s back exit, in case the bodyguard is on my trail. I make it home within ten minutes and throw myself face down on my twin bed.

I can’t believe I let this happen.

I can’t believe I escaped a life of nonstop trouble and struggling only to throw myself right back into the ring.

What am I going to do?

Well I know one thing. I’m staying the hell away from Walker McManus.