Page 17 of Protect Your Queen

“I’m going to have someone following me around all the time. What? I can’t piss with the door closed anymore?” I was already feeling that constriction. The eyes. Another person to watch everything I did wrong. Another person to judge and hate me. Another person who’d want to watch me fall.

Every little movement would be scrutinized. Every moment judged. Every word, misconstrued to show the worst parts of me.

“Jes, you need more than just Brian to protect you! Look at what just happened!” He gestured to the front door, but I knew that his long reach went far beyond that. Out the door, down the freeway, to the street outside the Dryden Studio.

“That was an accident, and…”

“You’ve got a new security team, and that’s that!” Jareth ran a hand through his straight, black hair. “You are the most visible member of our family. We do not let you just gallivant around unprotected. Would you rather I bring Jorik here and havehimbe your guard?”

I winced.No thank you.

What’s worse than having a stranger watching your every move? Having your brother do it, while updating the family group chat. Jorik couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

“Please don’t make me do this,” I whispered. I wanted him to hear me. To give in to me. To understand why I was begging him…

But he stood his ground. “The decision has been made.”

“Please…” I knew there was no bargaining now.

I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t handle another choice being taken away, another sliver of my privacy cut from my skin. More supervision. More faces and eyes judging every breath, every look. “I don’t want a team of guys on top of me all the time. I already have so many people staring at me.”

“You wouldn’t have a team, ma’am.” That voice. That deep, low, calm voice sent a shiver up my spine. It wasn’t unpleasant, but I disliked it all the same. “Only one of us would be with you at a time. Most of us you won’t see at all. It’ll mostly just be me, ma’am.”

Johnny Everyman had materialized in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his head slightly downturned as if he was doing a little ‘aww shucks’routine. He was too tall to make himself look harmless. His arms, his hands, his face… I didn’t trust the look of him.

“Who are you?” I stood up, crossing my arms in front of my chest, suddenly self-conscious that this dress didn’t allow for a bra. “And drop the whole ‘ma’am’ thing. It’s so gross.”

If he was affected by my rebuke, he didn’t let it show.

“I’m Christopher Ambrose.” He reached a hand to me, as if we were going to shake. I glared at his palm, where a red scar bisected from over the pad of his thumb, all the way to the pinky-side. “Your Security Manager.”

I scowled at my new babysitter.

He was a very good-looking babysitter. His short brown hair had a natural wave that he parted and gelled back. His square jaw was something that belonged to a Marvel hero in a lycra suit. But he was still an asshole.

“I don’t shake hands with thehelp.” Because the last thing I would allow was to have some kind offondnessfor my enemy. I could make him quit within a week.

“Jes, don’t be rude!” Jareth chided.

“Nope, it’s fine,” Christopher Ambrose chuckled. Then he tilted his head down, and lifted a brow as he gave me a smile worthy of a toothpaste ad. “I get it. It’s not easy jamming a stranger into your life. I imagine I’ll get really annoying.”

That lopsided, toothy grin belonged on a Disney Prince instead of a real person. His emerald eyes were laser-focused on me, daring me to notice how handsome he was. Then he winked. He fucking winked!

I tore my eyes away, unwilling to like this person.

“You’re already annoying,” I grumbled, plopping back down onto the sofa, my gold dress puffing around me.

“Jes!” Jareth was two seconds from smacking me upside the head.

I had no choice but to accept the new arrangement. Still, I’d make sure that everyone knew I wasn’t happy about it. What kind of a name was Christopher Ambrose, anyway? What? Was Liam Hemsworth taken?

“We’re going to the Black Bird Jazz Club,” Jareth was talking to the Captain America-wannabe. “It’s in Santa Monica. Brian will be driving. You’ll come with us.”

I hated when Jareth pretended I wasn’t there. Like I couldn’t hear him. Like I didn’t matter.

“What’s the dress code?” Even Christopher Ambrose’s voice was heroic sounding. It was insufferable.

“Business casual. Blazer, no tie.”

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