The divider window lowered. “Are you ready?” Zach said, without looking at her.
Anita took a deep breath. “Yeah . . . are you?”
He didn’t answer, just got out of the vehicle, but she noticed that after the first reporter caught a
severe elbow to the jaw, the others backed up and gave him enough space to round her door.
Bright lights flashed creating a miasma of light as she exited and grabbed Zach’s hand.
“Back up and give the lady space,” Zach said in a sonic boom, and one cameraman who hadn’t gotten the memo took a flat-palm blow to the chest that instantly put him on the ground.
Voices screamed out a cacophony of insulting questions, and suddenly a strong arm was around her waist as a stone-cut torso was body-shielding her, lifting her, hurrying her without effort.
“Is it true your brothers have beef with your new security company?”
“We heard you’ve made a police report about a stalker, Queen B! Talk to us, have you seen him?”
“Is it true you cut your father off and left your siblings high and dry?”
“Who’s the new limo driver— any romantic connection?”
“How’s it feel to come back so strong in R&B after a disastrous year in the rap game?”
She wanted to yell out curses for them to leave her alone, to tell them all to get a life— to tell them that it felt like she’d exited hell and entered a peaceful new world the second the doors shut behind her. But she said none of those things, just kept her head down as she held onto Zach, slumping now from relief.
However that relief was short-lived as they made their way to the elevators. She was just about to thank him when he whirled on her, frowning.
“Do not ever pull a stunt like that again,” he said in a low warning and then stared at the doors.
“Wait a minute,” she said, beginning to take offense. “First of all—”
“What, you pay me?” he said, looking her dead in her eyes. “And this is what you pay me to do— keep you safe. When you’re with me and on my security detail, you do as I say. We clear?”
“Yeah, and all you forgot was the ma’am at the end of that sentence,” she snapped.
“In public, you are ma’am at all times. Period.” His arm came away from his body in a hard point toward where the paparazzi had been. “You saw those sharks out there. I heard their questions. You did not deserve or need that on your big night.”
He turned away from her and kept his gaze focused on the elevator doors until they opened.
“I don’t know how they found me,” she said quietly as the doors closed behind them.
“Your ex or your family probably fed them your new location; that would be my first guess. Only one guy showed up from the new firm— me. They clearly want their old contract back and aren’t happy with the new arrangement.”
“That is so low . . . damn, you think they would go there?” she said, shaking her head as the elevator let them off on their floor.
Zachary stopped walking. “A man had a gun in your face, Anita. If they’d do that, and this is the so-called posse your brothers are still running with, do I need to fill in the blanks?”
“That was just Bing from the old neighborhood,” she said, handing him the keys.
“Would you listen to yourself?” He shoved the door open and walked through the apartment, fury mea suring his every step. “All clear!”
“Yo, what’s your problem?” she said, closing the door behind them and walking over to the coffee table angrily to set down her award and her purse.
“What’s my problem?” he said evenly. “You sound like a person who is used to settling, used to accepting unacceptable behavior as a norm.”
“Oh, you just need to get out of my house with that bull.” Anita placed her hands on her hips as he crossed the room. “You don’t know me. What do you know about where I came from anyway?”
“I know a lot about you and where you came from— my mother came from the same place you did. Different location, same state of mind!” He pointed at her hard and his voice was like slow, rolling thunder. “She allowed herself to be around people who meant her no good, treated her any way they wanted to, and in the end, it killed a beautiful, classy woman— made her go home to glory long before her time. So, if you want to hang around thugs, give them a free pass on the things they do wrong, and squander all your beauty and brains and talent, then be my guest. I don’t have to like it; I’m just the hired help. But while you’re my charge, oh, hell, no! The next time a fool you know from the old ‘hood puts a gun in your face I will break his punk arm off. We clear?”