Travis.”
“Sorry, but last time I checked, I was just a singer. I don’t have any skills in findin’ people.”
Brendon chuckled, and Cheyenne forced her gaze back to his face, noticing instantly that the hard line of his jaw was softening somewhat.
“Maybe you don’t, but I know someone who does,” he told her when she looked into his eyes.
“Who? And please don’t say Gage. I told you, I’m not bringin’ them into this.”
“No, not Gage. Just a guy I went to high school with. He works for a security firm up in Dallas. It’s their specialty.”
“What security firm?” she inquired.
“Sniper One.”
Cheyenne’s eyes widened. Everyone knew Sniper 1 Security. Well, everyone in her business anyway. They were a team of hard-core enforcers who did everything from tracking missing people, freeing them if necessary—both civilian and military—to guarding some of the wealthiest people in the world. And plenty in between. Some of Cheyenne’s peers had used the agency a time or two in instances like this.
“And you think your buddy’s willin’ to help me?” Cheyenne questioned disbelievingly.
“Yeah. I do.”
Cheyenne wasn’t sure what to say to that. If Brendon wanted to help locate the stupid man who had destroyed her apartment and ultimately terrorized her for the past year, how was she supposed to say no?
“Okay,” she muttered.
“Okay?” Brendon tilted her chin up with the side of his finger, forcing her to meet his gaze again.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she bit out.
“Sorry, I’ve never known you to be that easy.”
She wasn’t easy, but then again, Brendon would know that firsthand, wouldn’t he? “Yes. I’m okay with it, especially if it’ll keep everyone safe. I’ll pay whatever they want.”
“I’ll give him a call then.”
Cheyenne nodded in agreement. She wasn’t sure what Brendon wanted her to say at this point. He had appointed himself as her protector, and as confused as she was, she certainly couldn’t deny the strange feeling that had taken up residence in her chest. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d been tempted to ask Travis for help over the course of the last year. Especially when she’d found her apartment trashed, all of her things destroyed. But she’d managed to refrain because she didn’t want to bring him and his family into it. He’d done enough for her already.
But Travis was the only person she’d ever been able to lean on. The only one she really trusted.
“Do your parents know about this?” Brendon questioned.
Ah, hell. Why did he have to go and ask about her parents?
Cheyenne moved out of his reach, refusing to touch the small area of skin that still tingled from his touch.
“My . . . uh . . . parents . . .” Shit. She didn’t even know how to explain the situation with her parents. She was hiding as much from them as she was from the stalker. They may not want to hurt her, but they unquestionably wanted something from her. Everything, actually. They wanted every damn thing they could get their greedy little hands on.
Which was why Cheyenne had severed ties with them a few years back. It had been as a means of survival. After her grandfather passed away and her grandmother’s mind began to deteriorate, Cheyenne hadn’t been complete. Her father had come in and cleaned his mother out, leaving Cheyenne with no choice but to move her grandmother to a nursing home to keep her safe from her own son. And when Cheyenne’s mother and father burned through what they’d ultimately stolen from her grandmother, they moved on to demanding that Cheyenne take care of them.
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t see my parents,” she confessed.
“Oh.” Brendon’s tone was laced with compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not,” Cheyenne retorted, feeling the ever present anger and hurt churn in her gut whenever she thought about them.
“What about your grandparents? My mother mentioned
“Sorry, but last time I checked, I was just a singer. I don’t have any skills in findin’ people.”
Brendon chuckled, and Cheyenne forced her gaze back to his face, noticing instantly that the hard line of his jaw was softening somewhat.
“Maybe you don’t, but I know someone who does,” he told her when she looked into his eyes.
“Who? And please don’t say Gage. I told you, I’m not bringin’ them into this.”
“No, not Gage. Just a guy I went to high school with. He works for a security firm up in Dallas. It’s their specialty.”
“What security firm?” she inquired.
“Sniper One.”
Cheyenne’s eyes widened. Everyone knew Sniper 1 Security. Well, everyone in her business anyway. They were a team of hard-core enforcers who did everything from tracking missing people, freeing them if necessary—both civilian and military—to guarding some of the wealthiest people in the world. And plenty in between. Some of Cheyenne’s peers had used the agency a time or two in instances like this.
“And you think your buddy’s willin’ to help me?” Cheyenne questioned disbelievingly.
“Yeah. I do.”
Cheyenne wasn’t sure what to say to that. If Brendon wanted to help locate the stupid man who had destroyed her apartment and ultimately terrorized her for the past year, how was she supposed to say no?
“Okay,” she muttered.
“Okay?” Brendon tilted her chin up with the side of his finger, forcing her to meet his gaze again.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she bit out.
“Sorry, I’ve never known you to be that easy.”
She wasn’t easy, but then again, Brendon would know that firsthand, wouldn’t he? “Yes. I’m okay with it, especially if it’ll keep everyone safe. I’ll pay whatever they want.”
“I’ll give him a call then.”
Cheyenne nodded in agreement. She wasn’t sure what Brendon wanted her to say at this point. He had appointed himself as her protector, and as confused as she was, she certainly couldn’t deny the strange feeling that had taken up residence in her chest. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d been tempted to ask Travis for help over the course of the last year. Especially when she’d found her apartment trashed, all of her things destroyed. But she’d managed to refrain because she didn’t want to bring him and his family into it. He’d done enough for her already.
But Travis was the only person she’d ever been able to lean on. The only one she really trusted.
“Do your parents know about this?” Brendon questioned.
Ah, hell. Why did he have to go and ask about her parents?
Cheyenne moved out of his reach, refusing to touch the small area of skin that still tingled from his touch.
“My . . . uh . . . parents . . .” Shit. She didn’t even know how to explain the situation with her parents. She was hiding as much from them as she was from the stalker. They may not want to hurt her, but they unquestionably wanted something from her. Everything, actually. They wanted every damn thing they could get their greedy little hands on.
Which was why Cheyenne had severed ties with them a few years back. It had been as a means of survival. After her grandfather passed away and her grandmother’s mind began to deteriorate, Cheyenne hadn’t been complete. Her father had come in and cleaned his mother out, leaving Cheyenne with no choice but to move her grandmother to a nursing home to keep her safe from her own son. And when Cheyenne’s mother and father burned through what they’d ultimately stolen from her grandmother, they moved on to demanding that Cheyenne take care of them.
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t see my parents,” she confessed.
“Oh.” Brendon’s tone was laced with compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not,” Cheyenne retorted, feeling the ever present anger and hurt churn in her gut whenever she thought about them.
“What about your grandparents? My mother mentioned
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