Page 25 of Unguarded

I look back at the screen, watching Joey walk into the hotel room while Monica hides under the covers and Chandler pretends she’s not there.

“You’re Rachel.” It’s a simple observation.

She’s kindhearted, and everyone wants her. She’s also a little spoiled.

A small smile tugs at her lips. Her eyes move back to the screen.

This is getting too personal. You’re not her friend. You’re the muscle.

I take a step back from the bed, sweeping my gaze across the shadowy room. It’s decorated with a mix of luxurious green velvet and brushed gold fixtures. It consists of a king-size bed with a white velvet tufted headboard, two gilded side tables, an intimate seating area with two armchairs, and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the street below.

“Brooks is ordering some food. I’ll let you know when it gets here. Please don’t leave the room without telling me.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her head denting the soft pillow again.

I turn and stalk back to the adjoining sitting area.

Monroe Blue is my charge, my task, my job. I can’t let myself get close to her, or I could screw everything up. She’s going to be up onstage tomorrow night, singing her heart out with her ex-boyfriend, exposed and at risk in front of a swelling crowd.

Get out of your fucking head so you can do this job and get out of here.

The crowdof fans presses in tighter, the smell of sweat and thick perfume permeating the night air. I’ve never been so thankful to be a head taller than most people. My muscles are tense as I scan over as many faces as I can, searching for threats.

Monroe is already in her dressing room, getting her final hair and makeup done. Brooks and two other bodyguards are outside her door, so I came to observe the massive, packed stadium before the show begins.

People are filing in, finding their seats and taking pictures. In about twenty minutes, her first song will start.

A thick sense of dread crawls over my skin. There’s nothing I can do to keep her protected, except stand on the sidelines and hope I respond quickly enough to a threat. Butwith tens of thousands of fans here, it’s physically impossible to watch them all. Instead, I’ll have to keep my eyes on her at all times.

I turn and walk back toward her dressing room. I tap the clear-wired earpiece in my ear. “Headed back. Everything good?”

Brooks responds, “All clear.”

I square my shoulders back, striding past dancers in costume, set designers, and musicians, all bustling to get in place. Judging by the number of staff, Monroe Blue puts on quite a performance, it seems.

I turn the corner in the hall to where her dressing room is, seeing Brooks, Danny, and Seth posted outside the door. Danny scowls every time he sees my face. He’s supposed to be the head of security, but I’ve all but taken over since I moved Monroe to another hotel. Seth is another member of the security detail.

Danny’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.

Another security guard is standing a few steps behind Seth, and I recognize him from the night Monroe went out to dinner with Zade Byron, her dickhead boyfriend.

Guess he finally decided to give a shit and check on his girlfriend.

Fidel and Ember come scurrying down the hall, chattering excitedly. Ember reaches the door, knocking and waiting a few seconds before pushing it open. I see inside the room briefly, catching a glimpse of Zade hugging Monroe from behind while she sits in the makeup chair. She faces the mirror, eyes on his reflection as he speaks to her, too low for me to hear. Her gaze flashes to my facebriefly as Ember and Fidel enter and shut the door behind them.

The look she gave me almost felt like a plea for help, for a rescue.

You’re imagining things.

I have no idea how strong her feelings are for Zade, but he’s a prick with a capitalP. I clench my fists, shifting my stance in my boots. I roll my neck from side to side, trying to release the tension building in my upper shoulders.

“You good?” Brooks asks.

I nod.

The door to the dressing room swings open, and Ember pokes her head out. Brooks smiles at her. She returns it.

“Hi,” she says.

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