Page 19 of Her Beastly Billionaire Rock Star
It was as though his personality had taken a complete turnaround. She hardly knew him at all, but this didn’t seem like him. Didn’t he know she was in his corner? “I’m on your side. What’s going on?”
Leaning in, his lips twisted into a snarl. “Nothing, and that’s exactly what’s going to keep happening. Now, let’s go. Don’t want to keep the press waiting, do we?”
“No, I guess not,” she replied just above a whisper. Had she been so wrong about him? Before Octavia stole her father’s business, he’d often consulted with Charlotte after a client left. More than once, she’d been right about the person. Clearly, she’d been wrong about Malakai. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Fantastic.”
Following him, Charlotte had to nearly jog to keep up with him as they walked through the house to the garage. Stopping just inside, there were plenty of cars to choose from, hard and soft tops. He crossed the massive space and smiled menacingly back at her. “How about we take this?” he asked, yanking off a large blue cloth tarp.
Her heart hit her throat and nearly choked her as she took in the beast of a motorcycle. “That?” Her voice trembled. “I thought you wrecked it.”
Shrugging, he said, “Guess you can’t believe everything you read, huh?”
“There are plenty of cars.”
This time, the smile he shot her was menacing. “Where’s the fun in that?” He grabbed a helmet from a nearby shelf and sat on the bike. “Let’s go.”
Hesitating, she tried to think of reasons why they couldn’t take it. Fear alone wasn’t enough to keep them from using the two-wheeled death trap. “We’d have more protection from the press in a car.”
Scoffing, Malakai lifted the helmet. “Either take the helmet and get on or I’m calling Octavia.”
Lowering her gaze, she fought tears. What choice did she have now? Crossing the room, she stopped in front of him, took the helmet, and put it on. She straddled the bike and balled her hands into fists. “What do I do now?”
He grabbed her hands, wrapping them around his middle, and laughed. “You hang on,” he said, and the garage door lifted.
The deafening roar of the bike coming to life cut off all her thoughts. Her heart was already thrumming like hummingbird wings, and now it had hit a speed she couldn’t begin to measure. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the noise and her fear.
Maybe once Malakai got a little fresh air, he’d feel better. Perhaps she was right about him all along and it was the constant lockdown that had him behaving so oddly. She could understand that since it was how she felt all the time. Trapped with no end in sight. It was easy to feel that way even if a person knew things would eventually change.
Either way, all she could do at the moment was hold on, hoping the ride didn’t last long and that in the process, Malakai would be himself again. If not, life at his house was going to be just as miserable as living at the office. At least her room was bigger and she had a tub. Although, with the way her life was going lately, it could be Olympic-sized and not be large enough to soak her troubles away.
Thoughts of her dad floated to mind. He loved her and needed her. Her heart dipped to her stomach, and she whispered a quiet prayer that someone was listening. Her strength was waning. If things continued on much longer, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
Chapter 9
Instead of using the most direct route to the center of LA, Malakai took the longest way possible. At first, the photographers hustled to race after him, but after a few miles on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, he’d managed to lose them. Of course, they’d camped out at his normal haunts, and it wouldn’t be long before one of them spotted him.
When he’d left his home, he’d been so angry he couldn’t think straight. Charlotte plotting with Octavia to manipulate him into going out so the press could hound him had set him off. Granted, it sounded like he’d missed part of the conversation, but he’d learned long ago that the second he gave someone the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up biting him.
She’d told Octavia she didn’t like convertibles, so he’d chosen something even worse. His bike. It had been nearly totaled the year prior, but he’d had it restored without any of the gossip rags finding out. The look on Charlotte’s face was priceless; although, admittedly, he’d almost had a change of heart when her voice caught. She was no different than the rest, so he’d dismissed it. It was all an act.
As he pulled into the parking lot of a nightclub he’d once called his second home, he checked the area. The typical number of paparazzi were gathered outside to get a shot of the celebs that might show, but whatever hordes Octavia and Charlotte had planned were nowhere in sight. At first, he’d thought about just going back home once his anger had subsided, but they wanted a show, so that’s what he’d give them.
Malakai cut the engine, and now that his bike was sitting still, he realized Charlotte’s grip around his middle was so tight it hurt. He’d figured she’d be a little scared, not death-grip scared.
“Hey,” he said, twisting in the seat. “You can let go now. We’re stopped.”
Slowly, her arms withdrew from his waist, and he stood, facing her. “It wasn’t that bad now, was it?” He smirked.
Charlotte braced one hand on the seat in front of her and touched the helmet with the other. Minute after minute ticked by without her saying a word or moving. Just when he thought he might have broken her, she took the helmet off and her hair cascaded down around her shoulders.
Her gaze lifted to his, and his breath caught as she stared wide-eyed at him through flyaway hair. The way the light reflected in them made them unnaturally green. Hauntingly so.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Her hands began to tremble as she handed him the helmet and then raked one through her hair. She slowly dismounted the bike, keeping her hands braced on the seat. “My legs are cold and tingly.”
A flash went off, and Malakai jerked his head up. “Well, looks like the paparazzi you wanted is here.”
