Superfan (Brooklyn #3)(78)

Unfortunately, he isn’t my next visitor. There’s a loud knock on the door, and when Becky answers it, Charla Harris sweeps in, looking fierce. “I will fucking kill him. No—I will sue him for every penny and then kill him. When I’m finished with his bloody corpse, I will then spank you for going over to his house alone to negotiate with that violent freak.”

I blink. “It’s lovely to see you, too, Charla. But it’s unexpected. Don’t you have a dinner or a spa appointment scheduled somewhere?”

She rolls her eyes. “It takes a lot for me to cancel appointments, as you well know. But one or two things are motivating. Such as your near death.”

“I’m fine. I swear. I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you will be. But now we have paperwork to sign, girl.” She snaps her fingers. “Pay attention.”

Wait, what? “How’d you get in here, anyway?” I have to ask. Security is a little more important to me than usual today. “You weren’t on the list.”

“Oh.” She smacks her forehead. “I was recognized by your giant bodyguard. And he wants a word. He’s in the hallway.”

“Mr. Muscles?” I hadn’t seen him at the hospital. One of the other guys was on duty outside my room last I checked. I cross the room and peer through the peephole.

Sure enough, Mr. Muscles is there.

“Miss,” he whispers when I open the door, clasping his hands together like an old woman in church. “I’m so sorry. Terribly sorry. I never liked that guy, and I had a suspicion that he wasn’t all right up here.” He points at his broad skull. “But I listened to my boss and I just…” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. I was watchin’ through the window, and when you drank that soda and then got woozy—” He shudders. “I should’na ever let you go in there alone.”

I shiver too. And it’s going to be a while before I can think about last night without getting freaked out. Now that I’m less woozy, it all seems more real.

“Anyway.” He sighs. “I turned in my resignation today. I gotta take some time off and evaluate my skills.”

“What? No!” I yelp. “It’s not your fault that Brett’s a sociopath. And I guess your gut told you to look through the window…” I realize I don’t quite have the whole story yet. “What happened after that?”

He shrugs his mountainous shoulders. “I saw you sort of slump forward. Ferris was trying to get you to sign something. Then I had to waste a few seconds calming down your boyfriend, who was climbin’ through a shrubbery. I parked him outta sight while I knocked on the door. When the Prepmonster answered—”

“Prepmonster?” I shriek in tandem with Becky. And maybe Charla, too.

Another shrug. “That’s what I call ’im in my head. Anywhos, when he answered the door, I forced my way inside and dropkicked him while the boyfriend carried you out.”

He dropkicked Brett? And I missed it?

I leap forward, and my hug catches Mr. Muscles by surprise. And I swear it’s like hugging a tank. “Thank you for doing that for me. And please don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Know you don’t like me much,” he whispers. “I tried to do a good job.”

“It wasn’t personal. I was pretty sure that Brett was keeping tabs on me and using you to do it.”

“He was,” the big man says. “I knew it. But it wasn’t like I ratted you out after every shift, okay? There were these logs I was required to fill out—who you were with and where we went. They told me it was all because of that stalker. But I could tell Brett is a jealous fucker.”

“Jealous fucker,” Charla says. “Good name, but I like Prepmonster better.”

“Same,” Becky agrees.

“Sorry just the same,” he says. “And I should go and let you rest.”

I pat the tank on his giant arm. “You take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make any rash decisions on my account. You can stay on my security team as long as you like.”

“Okay, miss. But I ’spect you won’t be on the West Coast much longer, anyway.”

“Why not?” That’s news to me.

“The boyfriend,” he says simply. “Guy like that you hang onto. I would if he was mine. Hot and super nice. If he’s also good in bed, that’s like a unicorn right there.”

The three of us stare up at him in stunned silence. The depths Mr. Muscles has revealed tonight! I’m almost too fascinated to remember how shitty the last twenty-four hours have been.

Eventually, Becky clears her throat. “Good advice.”

“Right!” I say brightly. “You have a good night. Take it easy. All is well here.”

He nods his giant head and then leaves us.

“Can’t believe we missed the dropkick,” Becky says, sighing.

“I’d pay cash money to see that,” Charla agrees. “And speaking of cash money…”

“It must be a lot of coin if you flew up here to talk about it.” I sit down on the sofa and stare out at the ocean. The beach is always beautiful. Too bad I hate this town. My gut was right about Darlington Beach, at least.

“So, listen. MetroPlex is afraid you’ll sue.” Charla plops her body into a chair. “And if you want to, I’ll hire you the lawyers to do that. But there’s an alternative. They’ll hand you a better offer for Lucky Hearts.”