Read Online Rocked Part 5: A New Adult Rockstar Romance (Billionaire's Obsession) by Bella Love-Wins, Bella Wild - Free Book Online
Authors: Bella Love-Wins, Bella Wild
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the other side of the door, telling us we needed to leave in five minutes. I thanked them quickly, rushed to the bathroom and stuffed my phone, wallet, gun and a compact from my purse into the clutch. I couldn’t take the weapon into the event, but it was a good idea to keep it with me for the limo ride. I did a quick once-over in the mirror to check my look, and headed out.
Fred and Larry were standing outside the guest room door, dressed in black suits with black shirts—probably to blend in for the event. I followed them out to the front door, where Johnny and Kevin were waiting. They looked dapper, and surprisingly adorable in their matching black slim-fit satin-trim tuxedo suits, with white dress shirts. The style of shirts was perfect for Kevin—their high-cut collars helped to hide most of his bandages.
Johnny peppered me with compliments all the way from the house to the limos, paying no attention to Kevin or the others, who got into their own limo, and let Johnny and I go with Charles. I expected there would be some conversation about my temporary breakdown, but Johnny was gracious and did not bring it up. He spent most of the time in the car staring at me and reiterating how stunning I looked.
On arrival, Charles stopped at the drop-off point set aside for performing artists and celebrities who would grace the red carpet. I took the handgun from my clutch purse to tuck it in the back seat, and Johnny’s eyes widened.
“That’s so fucking hot.”
“What?” I asked him.
“A sophisticated woman dressed to the nines, with a Smith & Wesson in her hands. That is badass. I should get a picture of you like this.”
“I don’t carry a gun for your amusement, Johnny.”
He pulled out his smartphone from a pocket inside the breast of his jacket. “I know they’re not. But fuck! You look so sexy and dangerous—” I gave him a stern sideways glance, and he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“I get where you’re coming from, Johnny, but I have a real hang-up about how the media and the entertainment world reduce the use of guns to something glamorous and showy. It’s not. I respect the power of the lethal weapons I’m trained and licensed to carry. Because they can hurt and kill people. That’s not amusing to me.”
He looked embarrassed for a moment, but nodded. “You know what? You’re right. Guns are serious.”
I went back to double-checking to make sure the safety was on before storing it in the built-in rear seat console. Johnny still snapped a shot.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he said, giving me a sweet pleading look. “I also took the photo to help you.”
I placed the gun in the storage compartment and closed the top before looking up at him. “How exactly can a picture of me with a gun help me?”
He reached across and pulled me in, kissing my cheek. “It’ll remind you how powerful you are against anyone trying to hurt me,” he whispered.
He had a point. Dammit. I had no business doubting myself this morning.
“Okay. You’re probably right. Thanks.”
We waited for Fred, Larry and Kevin, who should be there any minute. While we waited, I observed the area. After all the security planning and anticipation for the Disk Spinner awards show, Kevin’s perspective turned out to be on the money—it was probably the safest place to be for any artist needing protection. There was a significant police presence, with officers lining a broad perimeter around the building. They had also laid out physical barriers to control traffic and the crowd. I also noticed the ballistic-rated vehicular barriers—subtle barricades at key entrances, that limited access to vehicles without hindering pedestrian traffic.
When the men arrived, Johnny’s PR rep joined us, and the six of us walked through the checkpoint to walk the red carpet. As Johnny was on the list of performers, we were earlier than most of the guests. I had no delusions of my obscurity. He was the center of attention, and his
Fred and Larry were standing outside the guest room door, dressed in black suits with black shirts—probably to blend in for the event. I followed them out to the front door, where Johnny and Kevin were waiting. They looked dapper, and surprisingly adorable in their matching black slim-fit satin-trim tuxedo suits, with white dress shirts. The style of shirts was perfect for Kevin—their high-cut collars helped to hide most of his bandages.
Johnny peppered me with compliments all the way from the house to the limos, paying no attention to Kevin or the others, who got into their own limo, and let Johnny and I go with Charles. I expected there would be some conversation about my temporary breakdown, but Johnny was gracious and did not bring it up. He spent most of the time in the car staring at me and reiterating how stunning I looked.
On arrival, Charles stopped at the drop-off point set aside for performing artists and celebrities who would grace the red carpet. I took the handgun from my clutch purse to tuck it in the back seat, and Johnny’s eyes widened.
“That’s so fucking hot.”
“What?” I asked him.
“A sophisticated woman dressed to the nines, with a Smith & Wesson in her hands. That is badass. I should get a picture of you like this.”
“I don’t carry a gun for your amusement, Johnny.”
He pulled out his smartphone from a pocket inside the breast of his jacket. “I know they’re not. But fuck! You look so sexy and dangerous—” I gave him a stern sideways glance, and he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“I get where you’re coming from, Johnny, but I have a real hang-up about how the media and the entertainment world reduce the use of guns to something glamorous and showy. It’s not. I respect the power of the lethal weapons I’m trained and licensed to carry. Because they can hurt and kill people. That’s not amusing to me.”
He looked embarrassed for a moment, but nodded. “You know what? You’re right. Guns are serious.”
I went back to double-checking to make sure the safety was on before storing it in the built-in rear seat console. Johnny still snapped a shot.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he said, giving me a sweet pleading look. “I also took the photo to help you.”
I placed the gun in the storage compartment and closed the top before looking up at him. “How exactly can a picture of me with a gun help me?”
He reached across and pulled me in, kissing my cheek. “It’ll remind you how powerful you are against anyone trying to hurt me,” he whispered.
He had a point. Dammit. I had no business doubting myself this morning.
“Okay. You’re probably right. Thanks.”
We waited for Fred, Larry and Kevin, who should be there any minute. While we waited, I observed the area. After all the security planning and anticipation for the Disk Spinner awards show, Kevin’s perspective turned out to be on the money—it was probably the safest place to be for any artist needing protection. There was a significant police presence, with officers lining a broad perimeter around the building. They had also laid out physical barriers to control traffic and the crowd. I also noticed the ballistic-rated vehicular barriers—subtle barricades at key entrances, that limited access to vehicles without hindering pedestrian traffic.
When the men arrived, Johnny’s PR rep joined us, and the six of us walked through the checkpoint to walk the red carpet. As Johnny was on the list of performers, we were earlier than most of the guests. I had no delusions of my obscurity. He was the center of attention, and his
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