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It was quiet inside after the madness on the street. Parker pulled down the bill of his Sox cap, presumably to avoid being recognized after playing a huge show that was walking distance from where we stood.

A waitress sat us, and we took a booth in the far corner. We sat together, both of us facing the door, me inside the booth and Parker on the outside. Regardless of what awaited us, I felt his protection. Always.

“You want menus or just drinks?” the waitress asked. I checked her nametag: Tamara.

“Menus,” Parker said. He glanced at me. “What are you drinking?”

“Coke, please.” I smiled at the waitress, and then I watched in disgust while she ogled my boyfriend.

“Coffee.” He kept his attention on his menu and not on the waitress, and I couldn’t help but press myself a little closer into his side.

I glanced up at Tamara and earned myself a little glare. With that move, she managed to score herself a lower tip.

“Cream and sugar?” Tamara asked, her voice suddenly a little more sultry than it had been moments earlier. Why did women feel the need to act like that around men who were clearly in relationships?

I rolled my eyes as Parker answered, and Tamara left to get our drinks.

I flipped through the menu, not looking up. “She wants you.”

He chuckled. “So what? I want you.”

I felt his lips at my temple, once again giving me comfort in only the way he could.

She brought our drinks, and his attention was solely on me. We ordered pancakes, drenched them in syrup, and giggled through our meal, just the two of us. Waitresses named Tamara no longer existed. Randy’s anxiety-inducing presence no longer mattered. Whatever awaited me the next day at home was no longer an issue. It was just Parker and me, my boyfriend and his girlfriend, enjoying a date night together in the middle of Bourbon Street.

Parker paid our bill, and then he sent a text. We had to wait for a reply before he would let me out of the booth.

“Who are we waiting on?” I finally asked on a sigh as I played with the straw in my Coke.

“George.”

“What’s taking him so long?”

Parker shrugged. “His responses are usually immediate.”

Alarm bells sounded in my head. George was always on call. The only reason he would not immediately respond to Parker’s text was if something was wrong. My eyes met Parker’s, and his were as worried as mine. “Try Fitz or something.”

He nodded and punched out another text, and then his phone started ringing a moment later. We both checked his screen. It was Fitz.

“Yeah?” Parker answered.

I tried to listen to the conversation, but the din of the restaurant was too noisy for me to hear Fitz.

“Fuck,” Parker muttered. My blood turned to ice at his reaction. Something was definitely wrong, but I wasn’t sure what it was. He continued his conversation. “We’re at a diner about a block from the bar.”

They finished talking, and I waited patiently for an explanation after he hung up. He turned toward me and lowered his voice.

“You know how you had a weird feeling all night?”

I nodded.

“There was a fight at the bar.”

“Oh my God. Is everyone okay?”

“Fitz said yes. A few bruises, but everyone is okay.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He took a deep breath. “One of Randy’s guys showed up. Sounds like George took care of him.”

“What does that mean?” I shrieked, my hands suddenly shaking at the thought that this huge threat was nearby.

His words were reminiscent of the time someone had been following me and Bruno “took care of him.” I wasn’t sure what it meant then, and I didn’t know what it meant now, either.

“I’m not sure, Jimi. But we’re staying here until I get the all clear.”

“Where is Randy’s guy now?” My voice was still at shriek level, and I wasn’t sure that I was capable of bringing it down to a normal decibel.

He pulled me against him, rubbing soothing circles on my back. He clearly wasn’t sure what to do, but I was pretty sure there was nothing he could do that would make any of this go away.

A text buzzed through Parker’s phone, and a minute later I saw my dad appear in the doorway of the diner. He looked around the place a moment before his eyes landed on mine, and I saw relief pass through his. I also saw a bruise on his cheek and fresh wounds above his eyebrow and on his lip.

He looked rough from across the room. I couldn’t imagine what he looked like up close.

I pushed past Parker and ran to him. People in the diner were starting to recognize him, so we didn’t have much time for a family reunion. He pulled me into his arms, and tears started leaking from my eyes.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice trembling as I pulled back to look at my dad’s injuries.

He shook his head. “Not now. Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded, and I turned to find Parker, who was right behind me. We ducked out of the diner, ran through an alley and around a corner, and there sat George behind the wheel of one of the limos we had arrived in just a couple of hours earlier.

Once we were settled into the back of the limo and on our way back to the hotel, I was ready for answers.

Parker spoke first. “So what does the other guy look like?”

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t force it out. My dad chuckled.

“Do you remember Randy’s friend Carl?” my dad asked me

I nodded. Carl was always with Randy, and he always seemed like a total slime bag to me. Sort of like Randy, actually.

“He showed up. I kicked his ass.”

“How did he get past George?” Parker asked.

I sat silently, my eyes on my dad’s face. He was handsome as always, my daddy, but he looked exhausted, and the cuts and sores looked fresh and painful.

“The whole security team has pictures of all of Randy’s associates, but George ran down to pull the car around. I saw Carl first and laid in on him. Bruno is the one who broke us up and got George.”

“Where’s Carl now?” I finally asked.

My dad shrugged. “George and Bruno escorted him out.”

“Is that code for kicking his ass some more?” I asked.

My dad chuckled again, and then he winced slightly. “Yeah,” he muttered, and then he turned his attention to his phone while Parker stroked my hand in a soothing motion and I tried to look anywhere but at my dad.

nine

The next morning, we were up early to head to the airport. I was flying home with my dad. Parker was heading back to LA with the band. Flashing Light ended up booking additional gigs on their own, and they wouldn’t be returning to LA for another two weeks.

I was thrilled for Parker and the success he was finding in his career.

But I was devastated to be away from him. I’d grown reliant on him for the safety he provided me, and I was scared to be without him while the Randy threat loomed largely in front of us.

I knew I’d have my dad nearby for protection. Unfortunately, that also meant Jadyn would be nearby.

I’d built up in my mind a million different ways that everything would be different when I returned home.

But nothing was different.

Everything was exactly the same as I had left it.

When I had left, I was in love with Parker and missing him already.

Now that I was back, I was in love with Parker and missing him already.

A lot had changed between us; we were “engaged” now, and he’d be back in a two short weeks so we could resume our charade.

Parker.

Even as his name threaded through my thoughts, I couldn’t help but feel a little spasm in my chest just thinking of his brown eyes, his messy hair, the stubble on his jaw, the way he looked at me, the way his abs hardened under my fingertips.