CHAPTER 5
NAVIGATING ANITA THROUGH the throng of well-wishers, fans, and cameras made him feel like a salmon swimming upstream. He waited patiently in the background of the after-party, watching her schmooze and politic with all the right people, and knowing she had to be exhausted. But he also monitored the tension within her as her brothers approached; the conversation did not look like it was going well. He caught Jonathan Evans’s smug expression. That’s when he moved in.
“I told you it was all settled,” Anita said in a low voice, glaring at her brothers. “Why can’t you all just be happy for me? I’m not about to discuss any of that here.”
“Is there a problem, ma’am?” Zachary leaned in calmly, but had positioned Anita slightly behind him.
“This is family, rent-a-cop,” Antwan said. “So step off.”
“If you’re bothering the lady, you’re bothering me— back away from her personal space.”
“What the fuck?” Derrick said, and then nodded to three men across the room.
“Do not start in here, please,” Anita said. “I’m ready to go, Zachary. I don’t need this.”
Unfortunately, Antwan grabbed her arm and jerked her back toward him.
“I said we are gonna discuss it now, because you ain’t—”
It was reflex. Zach spun backward and caught Antwan in the temple and dropped him where he stood. Derrick rushed him, but in a lightning-fast jujitsu move, he’d caught Derrick’s arm and had it twisted behind his back at a precarious angle without even wrinkling his tux.
“The lady said she was ready to leave,” Zachary said in a low, quiet threat. “I suggest that you do not cause her or yourself any further embarrassment tonight.” He flung her brother away from his hold, smoothed his lapels and then took up Anita’s arm. “You stay with me,” he said quietly, ushering her through the crowd at a rapid pace. “The cameras are going to be all over it and you don’t need to be near it.”
“Thank you,” she said, dipping out of the door behind him, and then held his arm tighter as he guided her through a back hotel exit.
“I want you in the car,” he said, opening the limo door and quickly ushering her in. “If it gets really crazy, use your cell and call 911, but do not open the door.”
She didn’t have time to respond as three men entered the underground limo valet port, and Zachary took a stance.
“That was our boy,” one of the combatants said and then looked at the limo. “‘Twan and Derrick, us— we all go way back, and that’s his sister— so you’d better tell your boss that we do her security detail!”
“Bing? Is that you?” Anita opened the limo door and got out.
“Please get back in the vehicle,” Zachary said, glancing at her and then at the men who were slowly approaching him. “Gentlemen, I suggest that you don’t do anything stupid tonight. Trust me, this will not end well.”
“You fuckin’ A— right it won’t end well,” the leader identified as Bing said, and then pulled out a nine millimeter.
Before he could brandish it, he was on his back, weapon stripped, coughing up blood. Zachary had a knee in his chest, his arm outstretched, weapon dead aim.
“On the ground! Now!”
The two men that had been with Bing slowly got down on the cement garage floor. Zachary jumped up keeping the gun trained on them. “Call 911,” he said to Anita.
The heavy guy with the fade haircut spoke up first, trying to compromise, even though his skinny little friend glared at Zach with hatred.
“C’mon, ’Nita, have a heart— it ain’t registered, Bing’s got outstanding warrants . . . you know we all grew up together . . . damn, my suit is all jacked, c’mon, girl.”
Zach pulled the gun back and then unloaded the clip. “If I see you assholes anywhere near this lady again, I’m gonna oops and accidentally pull the trigger . . . and explain to the cops later. We clear?”
Two heads nodded as Bing rolled over, holding his throat and groaned. Zachary tossed the clip across the lot and wiped the gun off with his suit before dropping it at his feet. The cameras would find them soon and valets who’d seen the whole thing go down were craning their necks to get a glimpse of the aftermath. They had to get out of there.
“Please, ma’am, don’t make me ask you again . . . get back in the limo.”
Anita sat in silence, staring at the divider glass. Damn . . . But if body language was any indicator, Zachary Mitchell was so pissed off he probably couldn’t speak. Her brothers had ruined her evening— adding drama like they always did, and Jonathan had aided and abetted them in their shenanigans by even allowing them a pass in. Her father hadn’t even come up to congratulate her, being too busy with the women he was chasing. She sat back and closed her eyes. Still it felt good to have someone stand up for her. The hangers-on from the old neighborhood were history after this last fiasco. They’d pulled a gun? Were they high? Then she saw it . . . her award. Zach had had someone bring the award to the car for her, rather than let them ship it?
She leaned forward and picked up the box, extracting it carefully. Her fingers played over the engraving and she clutched it to her chest trying not to tear and mess up her makeup. If only her mama was still alive— she’d been the one who believed when no one else did.
The moment Anita felt the limo come to a full stop she glanced around, glad that NextStarz had at least kept her temporary location secret— but that’s when she saw the mob of cameras rush the vehicle. Zach had maneuvered it into a space, but they were now boxed in from all sides.