Beck: Hollywood Hitman by Maggie Marr Read Free Book Online

and hard cut, with a face that put Clive Owen to shame, was behind the wheel. “Now.”
    “I don’t even know you—”
    “You know I’m better than whatever is in that car coming at you.”
    Did she know that? Did she? What if this was all some sort of ruse, a ploy, a way to force her into her own car with a good-looking man, and then take her to someplace . . . she was being followed . . . or stalked . . . Stalked.
    “Ari hired me. Your middle name is Lynn.”
    “That’s not tough. You could find that out on Wikipedia.”
    “And you were born in Matoon, Illinois.”
    “Again, not difficult.” The engine from the far side of the parking garage roared.
    “Your mother had a coke addiction, your little brother died from leukemia when you were eleven, your father blew through exactly 3.3 million dollars of your money in about four years, and the name of your imaginary friend when you were a little was Malena.”
    Natalie’s heart thudded. Her eyebrows wrinkled. “Malena?”
    “Now get in the car.”
    Natalie glanced from Mr. Badass toward the black sedan that still crept toward them. She ran to the passenger side where the other guy stood with the door open, his gaze locked onto the black sedan .
    Was that a gun? Beneath his jacket Natalie saw the outline of a holster.
    Two car doors slammed.
    “Go!” the guy in the backseat said.
    Mr. Blond-and-Blue-Eyes gunned the car, tore straight toward the black sedan, and made a sharp left. Natalie clutched her seatbelt.
    He tore up the circling ramp until they burst out of the parking garage and onto the street. The sky was purpling in the oncoming darkness. Nothing behind them.
    “Call Ari,” the driver said, and turned onto Sunset toward the Hollywood Hills.
    Natalie closed her eyes and thanked God that she was on her way home.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    “You got me a babysitter?” Natalie sat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee and a glass of water .
    The blond guy, Mr. Badass, smirked and turned toward . . . what was the other guy’s name? Remi. Mr. Badass shot Remi a look that screamed “get a hold of this chick” then mumbled something like, “I’m not the only one.”
    Remi’s expression remained unchanged. Not that Natalie could interpret anything right now—between the adrenaline rush and the skull-splitting headache, she could barely keep her eyes open. She’d popped four ibuprofens once they got to the house. She guessed a near-death experience could do that to a girl.
    Ari raised an eyebrow. “These guys aren’t babysitters.” His voice just above a whisper. “Look at them. They’re professionals. Highly trained professionals. I’d think after today you’d know that.”
    Her gaze slid toward Remi and Mr. Badass. Her assessment at Villa Blanco had been semi-accurate, because these two weren’t desk jockeys. Not actors either. Although their bodies could compete with any action star she’d met or worked with. No, those two were the real deal.
    She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Thank God they’d been in the garage.
    Remi now stood beside Ari. “We have specific contacts in the LAPD.”
    “No police.” Natalie didn’t open her eyes.
    “You’ve got a serious threat here, with a heightening level of aggression.”
    Pain tightened her skull. “No. Cops.” She pressed her fingers to her temples and started to rub. There were too many strands of her life that weren’t clean and she didn’t need a cop nosing around her past. Nor did she want anyone who wasn’t on her payroll tipping off the press about her private life. She had so little privacy left. She opened her eyes, and her gaze landed on Mr. Badass.
    Heat zinged through her entire body. She’d just been chased and yet a deep and compelling desire slid through her as she looked at this guy. Deep breath. She shook her head. A crescendoing need to keep a piece of her life for herself fought with her fear. “I don’t want a bodyguard.”
    “You don’t have a