Security (11 page)

Nathan climbed in after her. “Yeah, maybe I need to do that, too.”

Chapter Eighteen

Tawanda met them at the front door, and, before the woman could even speak, Autumn ran to her and flung herself into her arms. She began to wail, then the wail turned into loud sobbing, until finally, after much coaxing and soft, well-chosen words from Tawanda, the woman managed to get Autumn into the house and onto the sofa.

Nathan went to the fridge and found it full. Tawanda had obviously been to town for supplies. He took out a bottle of beer and looked for something to open it with. His hands were shaking. They hadn’t done that for a long time, not since...

He closed his eyes as the memory filled his head. Marie’s face, her cries, the explosions.

He ripped the top off the bottle and it fell to the floor. He drank the liquid down a
s if it were life-giving fluid.

“You need to know, child, that your friend, he is in a better place now. A place where there is no fighting, no guns, no evil people, only perfect peace,” Tawanda said.

She unpinned Autumn’s hair and brushed it over and over as she removed the grips.

“Do you really believe that?” Autumn asked, looking over her shoulder at the older woman, tears glazing her eyes.

Tawanda paused brushing. “Of course, I believe it! Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. I think I want to. Then something like this happens, and...well, it can’t be right. There can’t be someone up there deciding who lives and who dies,” Autumn stated.

“You are too scared to believe in something you can’t see. You believe in iPhones and iPads and too much eye make-up,” Tawanda said as she looked deep into Autumn’s heavily made-up eyes.

She smiled in return, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. All she could think about was Blu-Daddy and what his death would mean for his family. He wasn’t quite on the Rich List yet, and without a steady income, his wife would be living on royalties. She had to make sure his family was looked after, that the record company didn’t suck every penny out of his music for itself. But what was she thinking? When his wife heard the news, she wouldn’t be thinking about money. She’d lost a husband; their children had lost a father! What the Hell was money compared to that?

Her heart contracted in her chest as she thought about her own father. How had she felt when her mother had told her he was dead? She remembered feeling like a light had gone out in her life. She felt cold, numb, empty. It was like part of her had died with him. That’s what grief was, an empty hole where someone special used to be.

“It’s my fault he’s dead,” Nathan spoke through the silence that had descended.

“Oh no, Mr. Nathan. For whatever reason, it was God’s choosing,” Tawanda responded.

“You know I don’t believe in that shit.” He joined them in the living room where he sucked more beer from the bottle.

“Have some respect for those who do believe,” Tawanda ordered. Her dark eyes grew larger as she looked across at Nathan.

“It wasn’t your fault. What could you have done?” Autumn asked him.

He sat in the armchair opposite the sofa. “I could have handcuffed you to me, then neither of you would have been outside the hotel.”

“But how on Earth would Miss Autumn have been able to play the piano?” Tawanda asked.

Autumn looked at the large woman and smiled as a toned-down version of her booming laugh slipped through her lips.

“I’m going to my bed. I will see you in the morning. Goodnight, child,” Tawanda said. She stood up, leaned over, and gave Autumn a firm kiss on the cheek.

Autumn flushed at the show of emotion, so unexpected and so alien to her.

“Goodnight,” she called as Tawanda headed for her bedroom.

She looked across at Nathan. His eyes were directed out the doors toward the lake, lost in thought. His brow was furrowed, his jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitched slightly. His fingers were clasped tightly around the beer bottle, but it didn’t stop his hands from shaking.

“What happens now?” she ventured.

“What happens now?” he repeated.

“Yes, I mean, someone has died. It will be all over the news. What do we do? What do
I
do? What happens now?”

“I have no idea,” Nathan responded. He laughed
, but it was hollow.

“What’s there to laugh about? My friend died tonight. He’s dead.” She spat the words out then clamped a hand over her mouth as the meaning of them hit her again.

Things like this didn’t happen in her world. Of course, she knew guns and horrors existed, but she had never been that close to it before, and it scared the life out of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a whimper.

“Don’t you think I know that? Shit, Autumn! What d’you want me to do about it? I can’t fucking resurrect him!”

He got to his feet and crossed to the windows.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just, this doesn’t happen to me. I’m not used to it, I’m...” she began, tears sliding down her cheeks.

He turned back to face her. “Used to it? You think I’m used to death? Accustomed to it, maybe. Used to it, no. Getting used to it makes it sound like it doesn’t matter when people die. It does matter, especially when it was one of the good guys.”

“But...you said you thought maybe Blu was involved.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her fingers.

“You told me he wouldn’t be. You’re the one who knows him...knew him. I trust your judgment,” he said.

“I’m frightened,” Autumn admitted.

A shiver ran over her body, and her arms felt the first pinpricks of goosebumps. She didn’t want to be in the dress any more. She wanted to be in something comfortable and ordinary, something that didn’t crease in ten seconds or have a designer label that left chafe marks on the back of her neck. Had she ever owned anything comfortable?

Nathan looked over at her. She hugged her knees into her chest, trying to warm herself up. It wasn’t cold in the house; it was the events of the evening that were giving her a chill.

“I’ll protect you, Autumn,” Nathan said, crossing the room.

She lifted her eyes to look at him, and there was that feeling again, that completely inappropriate feeling deep in her gut.

He sat down on the sofa next to her and took her hands in his. His touch was so gentle, she could hardly believe this was the same person who had pulled and pushed her about so roughly before. His long, lean fingers interlocked with hers, and she saw his chest expand as he took a slow breath inward. His golden-colored eyes looked more caramel now as he directed them at her, and the intense nature of his expression made her heart gallop.

“I put you on display, and I said I’d make sure it was all right. I’m sorry,” he said.

His voice broke, just enough for Autumn to realize the complete sincerity in everything he was saying.

“I’m sorry too, for being a stuck-up bitch,” Autumn responded.

He took a section of her hair in his fingers and stroked them down it. Once at the ends, he tucked the hair gently behind her ear. He paused, his thumb just grazing her cheekbone. She leaned her head, just slightly, and pressed her cheek into the cup of his hand.

She closed her eyes and breathed in, relishing the way his hand supported her head, making it feel weightless.

She didn’t feel him move at all, but then his lips were on her mouth, and a tremor waved through her whole body. The scent of him filled her up as her mouth opened to let him in closer—mango and beer, spice and a sweet perspiration.

She pressed her body against him, wanting to feel his form tight to hers. She wrapped her arms aroun
d his neck and drew him nearer.

She was so beautiful and so fragile. She’d been ruined by the life she led. Given everything and nothing
, all at the same time, and now, someone was trying to kidnap her. He’d wanted to just hold her, try and make things better, for her and for him, but every time they got close, something took over. He couldn’t stop himself. There was a burning in his chest, a desire he hadn’t felt for such a long time. She wasn’t just the stuck-up bitch she’d just called herself. She was special.

She tasted of champagne and chocolate, and her hair smelled of something fresh, something natural. Her lips were so soft, but she used them in such a way that he had trouble keeping his need for her in control.

He grazed her lower lip with his teeth then pulled back to look at her. Her hair sat tousled on her shoulders, her eyes bright and glazed with excitement, and her lips plump and reddened from their kiss. She’d never looked more exquisite.

“I can’t do this,” he said, standing up and putting his hands to his head.

Autumn’s eyes followed him. “Do what? Kiss me? Earlier we told a room full of people we’re dating,” Autumn said.

“That was for show.”

“And this is—”

“Nothing. This is nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His final words spoken, he strode from the room.

Chapter
Nineteen

“You cannot tell me that you have no idea how to operate a washing machine, child.”

Autumn felt completely washed out, like she’d already done a cycle in the machine. She hadn’t slept at all. Visions of Blu-Daddy and the gunmen
, plus concern about what the press were going to be saying about the party had all mixed together with Nathan and their kiss, and she had tossed and turned, counted the circles on the patterned curtains and opened and closed her purse.

“Clothes go into the machine, add a funny-looking pouch of liquid, close the door. Open up the little panel on the front and add some brightly colored fabric conditioner, close the panel up. Set the dial to forty degrees, or thirty if we’re trying to save the environment, and press go!” Tawanda performed all the actions as she went along.

“I had a cleaner who did all that. I never needed to. You didn’t have to do it though, you should have shown me. It might be nice to learn,” Autumn admitted, pulling apart a croissant.

“Don’t be fooled by my domestic capabilities. Mr. Nathan doesn’t want me here for the clothes washing, child. Later, I will teach you how to fire an automatic weapon.”

Autumn looked up from her plate. “What?” she exclaimed.

“I think last night scared Mr. Nathan more than he let on. He wants you to be prepared for anything.”

“I
am
prepared. I told him I would be, I just...he doesn’t seem to know what to do now, after last night.”

“Plans change all the time. He made some phone calls this morning before he went out,” Tawanda told her.

“He isn’t here?”

Suddenly, her entire body was engulfed by a cloud of fear. Nathan wasn’t in the house. What if something happened? What if the men came back and he wasn’t here and they took her? He’d promised last night he would make sure she was protected.

She grabbed the coffee pot and went to pour herself a cup, but it fell from her hand and upended on the table.

“Oh
, Tawanda, I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy. Let me clean it up,” Autumn said, scraping back her chair and rising from her seat.

“No, child, you sit down and finish breakfast
. You must eat.”

“But where’s Nathan? I mean—.”

“Mr. Nathan will be back, and while he’s not here, I am looking after you. Remember what I say about automatic weapons? I taught Mr. Nathan everything he knows. Don’t judge everyone you meet by how they look or what wonderful Jamaican chicken they make.” Tawanda indicated the casserole dish she was in the middle of filling. “I hope you like things a little spicy, child.”

“Sorry. I just...after last night...”

“It is only normal to feel a little out of sorts after something like that, but you have to be strong. When all this is over, things will go back to how they were for you.”

She doubted that. Her best friend was a cow, her boyfriend was a cheating shit, and she was still concerned by her mother. What had she been doing at her party? The only parties her mother enjoyed were filled with politicians like her. She had no interest in members of Autumn’s celebrity circle unless she had a political campaign going on she needed faces on posters for.

As Tawanda fussed around the table, picking up the coffee pot and mopping up the residue, Nathan entered the room.

He was dressed in black running shorts and sneakers, but nothing else. The sight of his brawny body made Autumn’s insides contract, just as they had the night before. His hair was damp. He ran his hands through it before he took an apple from the fruit bowl and sunk his teeth into it.

His teeth split into the skin, and she couldn’t help but watch as his mouth moved, his lips glistening with juice. Last night they had been all over her face.

“You have been running, Mr. Nathan,” Tawanda remarked, breaking the quiet.

He turned away from the table and faced his friend. “We need to talk.”

“Of course, right after I finish with this chicken,” Tawanda answered.

“Hold on, excuse me, if there is any talking to be done about my situation then I want to hear it,” Autumn interjected.

She stood up quickly and adjusted the rather poor-fitting kaftan she wore. She’d grabbed the first thing she touched from the wardrobe, but it was too big and kept falling off her shoulder, exposing one side of her body, almost to the elbow.

“Miss Raine, we—” Nathan started.

“Miss Raine! You’re calling me Miss Raine!” Autumn exclaimed. A noise came out of her that was something between a laugh and a shriek.

“Mr. Nathan, she needs to know everything. If you want to keep her safe, the best thing to do is keep her informed. You know that secrets are the most dangerous part of what we do,” Tawanda reminded him.

“She isn’t ready for the truth. Look at her!”

His tone cut into her, and she fiddled with the kaftan, desperately trying to claw it back up her shoulder and maintain some dignity.

“Mr. Nathan,” Tawanda said.

Autumn looked up, saw the warning flashing in the woman’s eyes.

“I can’t tell her,” he responded, his voice weak.

Autumn watched him turn his body away from her, hiding his expression.

“I want to know,” she stated boldly. She wasn’t sure she did want to know. Whatever this news was
, it was going to rock the foundations of her world. That much was obvious from the way Nathan couldn’t even look at her.

He put his hands to his head and dragged in a chest full of air though he still wouldn’t face her.

Tawanda put the casserole down. “I will tell her,” she said.

“No!” Nathan exploded.

He turned to face her, and his body language told her whatever he had to say was more than serious.

“You’re frightening me.” The words just made it past her quivering lips.

Nathan held his hand out to her. “Come outside,” he urged.

“I will make some strong drinks,” Tawanda said.

Autumn took his hand. He led her toward the doors out to the deck. It was another stifling hot day, so Autumn took one last breath of the conditioned air before she stepped outside. Nathan held her hand and led the way off the verandah and down onto the sand.

He didn’t stop until they had reached the bank of dunes to the left of the house. He let her hand drop. He stood there, facing the vast expanse of lake, breathing in the air, his hair blown by the breeze.

“Just say what you have to say,” Autumn called against the wind, “whatever it is. I’m not going to fall apart. My record producer died last night. Nothing could be worse than that.”

He turned to face her, an unusual expression on his face. What exactly was it? Concern? Fear?

“Your mother is behind the kidnap plot,” he said.

For a moment, his words didn’t register. He could have just told her the release date of her next album or a public appearance to fit into her schedule. She looked back at him, her expression unchanged. She pulled at the fabric of the kaftan, eased it up over her shoulder.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked her.

Had she heard what he’d said? Yes, she’d heard it. Her mother was behind the kidnap plot. Those were the words that had come from his mouth, but the meaning hadn’t hit home. Where was the shock? Where was the surprise and horror she must feel?

“Yes,” Autumn responded, her eyes meeting his.

“Yes? What does that fucking mean?”

“I don’t know, I just...I don’t know.”

The wind seemed to grow in strength. It whipped around her clothes, buffeting her.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t you surprised? What aren’t you telling me?” Nathan hissed. His eyes narrowed, his demeanor angry.

“Nothing. I don’t know anything.
I guess I’m just not surprised,” Autumn admitted.

Where had that come from? She wasn’t surprised that her mother was at the center of a plot to have her kidnapped? What was going on? How could a statement like that be right in anyone’s world?

“You’re not surprised? Shit! I had her down as a manipulative, scheming bitch, but even I was mildly shocked when I found out.”

“I don’t know why though. Why?” Autumn asked him.

Now the seriousness and the implications of what he had said were kicking in. Her mother was behind a plot to kidnap her. Her mother had sent men to take her, and they had killed Blu-Daddy.

Nathan drew in a long breath and took hold of both her hands. The kaftan fell down her arm again as he locked eyes with her.

“She’s been trading information with terrorists.”