Wicked Bad Boys (89 page)

T
he morning after
. I was in bliss. My body was warm, and whenever I caught sight of my reflection, my face and neck looked flushed, as if the sun shone out from my chest and lit the space around me. Johnny was not around this morning. He had left early with Kevin, Fred and a few guards to meet the crew at Bellagio. Afterward, they planned to meet a concert promoter friend who happened to be in town at the same time. I missed him, but it didn’t register that he was gone—the cellular memory of his touch lingered on my body all day.

I took advantage of the time alone. I had a long workout in the hotel gym, returned upstairs for a shower, and got dressed to check out the stores. While I was out, Johnny sent me a text to see how I was doing. He mentioned he was back at the hotel to grab some old lyrics from his laptop, but would not be there long enough to wait for me. I told him it was fine, and that I would see him tonight. For a split second, the fleeting question of what would happen after the tour surfaced again. That detail was in a state of limbo. I pushed it away. At this point, I was ready to do anything to be with him, and believed he felt the same.

Shopping was not a frequent pastime—I would only cave on trips to the designer outlet malls when my bestie Eva nagged and guilt-tripped me continually. Today, I did not mind it at all.

I felt like hearing Eva’s voice again, so I phoned her up.

“Hi Rachel,” she answered.

“Eva it’s me…oh…geez,” I rolled my eyes when it hit me she was teasing about my alias. “Haha, good one.”

“So how is Johnny doing?”

“Pretty good.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating that rock god. Where is he? Can I say hi?”

I giggled. “He’s not with me right now.”

“Well call me back when he is. Anyway, how is Vegas?”

“How do you know that’s where I am?”

“Pffft. Seriously? Girl, you and Johnny superstar are all over the internet. That little bump and grind dance you two did at Whiskey River has had a few hundred thousand YouTube views overnight. Never mind the all-out clash fighting that broke out.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. I would be naïve to think something so sensational could stay under wraps. “Well it is what it is.”

“Be warned, though, Amanda. The more people who see that, the more likely you’ll be made. But at least then you can tell me what’s really going on, because it’s clear to me there’s more than dating going on.”

I ignored the comment. “So how are you?”

“Same ole stuff, hun. What are you doing? I’m hearing all sorts of noise in the background.”

“I’m shopping.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No. I must be channeling you, hun. I’m walking into all the stores and everything looks perfect for me.”

“You’re messing with me, right?”

“No, really. I almost bought us matching Stetsons.”

She erupted in a roar of laughter. “And where the hell are we going to wear that in Miami, missy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s all the plaid and spurs I’ve been seeing around here that has me feeling for a little country fashion flair.”

“Okay,” she said, laughing. “I’d try anything once with you.”

“Good. Then I’m going back for them.”

The phone chirped a reminder that the battery was critically low. Somewhere between Johnny telling me I was his and rocking my world, I had forgotten to connect it to the charger last night. I smiled. It was totally worth it. I told Eva I would call her back later, and dropped it back into by handbag.

After my brief foray into Las Vegas shopping was over, I returned to the hotel suite, armed with a few more bags than I had planned. Back inside, I ordered room service for lunch. I relaxed as I waited for the meal, stretched out on a lounge chair in the large enclosed sundeck attached to the living room. The food arrived soon enough, and after it was finished, I moved to the corner of a large sectional couch in the living room, and pulled my phone out of my pocket to catch up on emails. It was dead. I went to the bedroom and hooked it up at the night table. I tapped the power button on my phone, but nothing happened. I tried again and the screen flickered on and then shut down again.

I assumed the battery needed some extra charge before it would turn on. I left my tablet in LA, so I was temporarily disconnected. Bummer. I set the phone down on the night table and decided to check messages later. I was about to return to the living room when I noticed Johnny’s tablet laying on the office desk near the window. He had probably left it out when he had come back to the room for his old song lyrics. I figured he would not mind if I used it. I grabbed it and took it with me to the living room.

I sank back against the plush couch and turned it on. It powered up right away. The internet browser took me to Johnny’s official website. I scrolled around, checking comments. There was nothing new. While I was looking, a bubble popped up at the bottom of the screen. I tried to hit the tiny ‘x’ to close the bubble, but must have missed. It opened to Johnny’s email inbox.

Two new responses to stonefaceviper79 post.

I slid my finger on the screen to close it out, but a memory stirred. My finger stopped.

Stonefaceviper79. Why did that sound familiar to me?

I tried to figure out where I had heard it before.

Then it hit me…

Horrified, my nervous fingers fumbled over the screen, but eventually, I managed to pull up another browser tab and log into my own social media page. There it was, staring back at me…

Johnny was stonefaceviper79—my biggest fan.

My body went ice cold. I started to shake. The lunch that had been so enjoyable turned into a wave of nausea. No wonder he had known what cookies I like, and from what bakery, I thought, mentally connecting the dots. The room was spinning, or maybe it was my head. I frantically scrolled through all of my past posts. I had never shared anything too intimate on my pages—there were a lot of weirdos in the world. Still, there were little sprinkles of me and my private life scattered all throughout.

And Johnny knew it all.

Oh. My. God.

I dropped the tablet to my lap. My fingers clutched the edge of the couch cushion. All the pieces fit together now. I could see everything. The web of clues he dropped along the way all joined. It all made sense. The hints culminated in a whopping, anguish-filled realization.

This assignment was a sham.

Johnny did not hire me for my capabilities as a security professional.

But why?

Shit. I had made some “pity me” post on my blog about wanting to break free and start my own security firm. The new realization sent me over the edge. I folded forward, trying to catch my breath and keep from throwing up.

I was still reeling when I head the click of the front door opening. I grabbed the tablet and made a mad dash for the bedroom. I rushed inside and shut the door behind me. I lay against it, panting for a moment, my heart racing from more than just the exertion of the scramble. I locked the door and sat on the edge of the bed, tracking back through all Johnny’s stonefaceviper79 messages on my social media page…all the way to the beginning.

The first message he had responded to was dated three years earlier. He had been following me on social media for three years.

“Oh my God…oh my God…” I was hyperventilating.

I didn’t know whether to scream, throw the tablet against the wall, run to the bathroom and throw up, or wait for Johnny to get home, put him in a headlock, and demand answers.

I was Paralyzed. Frozen. Numb.

Pretty soon, that dull, shell-shocked feeling turned to something between heartbreak and rage.

Until someone knocked on the door.

I
t was
Larry on the other side of the door. Behind him there were several of the private security guys. Fred rushed in from the other suite as well. Everyone looked agitated.

Great. Not even a second to pull myself together.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Amanda. We need you out here for a few minutes.” His tone seemed dark and ominous. It quickly set me on edge.

“Was there another message?”

He nodded.

“Can you give me ten minutes? I need to take care of something.”

“No problem. Kevin and Johnny will be back by then too. They’re over in Kevin’s suite finishing up some business.”

“Great. I’ll be right there.”

I shut the door and feverishly began to pack up my things. I was not sure where I would sleep tonight, but it was not going to be in Johnny’s bed. Once everything was in order, I put my suitcases near the door. I walked out to the dining room table, right past Johnny and Kevin, who were sitting on the sofas. Something about seeing them sit there reminded me I had a little piece of my heart ripped to shreds in that sofa.

I also remembered something else.

“Larry. I don’t understand. I was on Johnny’s pages less than twenty minutes ago. I didn’t see anything.”

“It was only added a few minutes ago. Take a look.”

He turned his laptop screen to face me.

What’s meant to be will always find a way. I’ll work my way from Kevin, to your new girlfriend, to you. Call her Rachel Preston, or Roxy Punisher, or Amanda Baker. A thorn by any other name can be disposed of just as effortlessly. Don’t worry, Johnny, I’ll find you all soon.

A brief wave of fear passed through me, but it was quickly replaced with anger.

“Why can’t we find her? Do we at least know whether she was the one who hurt Kevin?”

“We’re working as quickly as we can with the resources we have.”

It didn’t make sense anymore. We had been at this for over a week. This woman was getting more and more aggressive and had now crossed over a line from virtual to physical contact. The words glowing on the screen were sobering; if we didn’t find a way to get to her, she would make her move soon, and was ready to take me out.

Fucking stalker bitch better know who she’s dealing with.

As confident as I was about being able to protect myself, I had some lingering doubts about whether I could cover Johnny too.

“It’s the same firewall cloaking technique as the last time. We can’t find the location based on the IP. We have scoured the profile for any clues, but she doesn’t post anything personal in her profiles, and the owners of the social media sites she is a part of won’t allow us the information without a court order.”

“Can’t we get one?” I asked.

Fred came over and sat at the table. “Not yet.”

“She attacked Kevin with a knife,” I said. “That has to be enough probable cause, or whatever it is the judge needs to issue a court order.” I wasn’t a lawyer, but it seemed like there had to be some provision for a situation like this; some way for us to access her accounts. My legal knowledge was mostly based on late-night crime shows on TV, but an option had to be possible.

“We’ll have the lab results back today. For now, we don’t know with certainty that she attacked Kevin. We’re working on it, Amanda, but there’s a more important set of issues to consider.” He turned to Kevin and Johnny over at the sofa and waved them over. “Gentlemen, you should hear this as well. Have a seat everyone.”

Johnny gave me a confused look, when although there were empty seats on either side of him, I sat between Larry and Fred.

Once we were all seated, Fred launched into it. “This latest message was posted only five to eight minutes ago. We caught it pretty quickly, but there are broader implications that affect our investigation…and the public perception of the tour.”

Kevin asked, “What are we even talking about?”

Fred read the message aloud.

“Oh. Okay. So what are the implications?”

“For one, the stalker has just outed Amanda publicly. The message was only up for a few minutes, but there’s a possibility it was seen by fans or the media.”

“Shit.”

Johnny turned to Kevin. “What’s the big deal about Amanda being outed?”

“Think about it, Johnny. You did a photoshoot, for Christ’s sake. You sat in an interview about meeting her at a coffee shop…your amazing and sweet romantic relationship. It’s no big deal if it comes out on our terms…long after the tour is done, and with the messaging we want to spin it with. If this story gets out before we can control it, you’ll look like a media-hungry snake swimming in pond scum.”

Johnny brought a hand up to his temple. “Oh. Shit.”

I was not impressed either, but my rage about Johnny’s deception took precedence at the moment.

“She may also leak it to the media herself…at some inconvenient time.” Kevin worriedly ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I’ve got to get PR on this now. Maybe we can beat her to it.”

“See, Kevin?” Johnny added. “This is why I said we needed to be straight up about who Amanda was, right from the start.”

How ironic. Coming from the guy who misled me from the day I met him. Pffft.

Fred got their attention again. “Gentlemen. That’s one consequence. Another is the stalker’s intention to lash out at Kevin and Amanda too.”

“I don’t see how that matters,” Kevin remarked. “The woman has already tried getting to me, and Amanda can protect herself. She knows the risks. So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is we now have more targets than FBI resources to monitor you all. As long as everyone around the table understands the risks that go along with this reality, we can move forward. I don’t suggest any change to the current plan. Once we have the analysis from the evidence today or first thing tomorrow, I’ll update you all. Any questions?”

“Not at the moment.” Kevin stood up and began to walk to the main door. “I’ll take care of any potential media backlash now.”

I searched for ideas, something, anything that would help us get more information on the stalker. I was too upset to come up with any suggestions. I thanked Fred and Larry, and returned to my room…which was also Johnny’s room.

Crap.

He was following two steps behind me. Fuck. He must not have seen the imaginary daggers shooting across the table from my eyeballs to his vital organs during that meeting. Well, it was better he felt my wrath now instead of later.