Jessica: Hollywood Fix, #2

By N Kuhn

Text Copyright © 2013 Nicole Kuhn

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

I’d like to dedicate this book to those who believe in me. My mother, for always helping and looking out for me. To Tom Townsend for believing in me. The endless lessons, pep talks and pressure, to help me be the best I can be. This book would be nothing without you taking a chance on me! Finally, to my fans. If not for you, my books would just be words. You make them come to life, and I thank you for that!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 1

Walking down the long cobble stone path, looking into the nothing beyond, my eyes cloud with tears. The silence is deafening on my ears. Falling to my knees, I sob uncontrollably. This isn’t like me, I don’t cry. Haven’t since I was a boy. My whole body shakes. I need to pull myself together. Man the fuck up Tucker, I yell at myself.

JESSICA I scream at no one, at the sky, at everything, my voice going hoarse. Slamming both fists into the stones below me, I sit up straight. Looking around in the darkness, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Yo, Tuck, man. You’re ok, the voice floats up from all around me, You must have been having one killer of a dream. You woke my ass up with your yelling. Thanks for the gut shot by the way. I can hear his labored breathing. This is the first nightmare I’ve had in a long time. Rubbing my face with my hands, I try to clear the fuzziness from my mind.

Razor, what the hell are you doing in my room? I could have killed you. You’re lucky to have just got punched. Reaching over, I flip on the bedside light.

Since the whole mess with Lianna Landry, Razor has been staying with me. The kid nearly lost his life because of me. It was the least I could do, especially when I feel responsible for him. When the guys found him strapped to the tower in J-Town, he was almost dead. Akio and his men had beaten him so bad, between the concussions, dislocated shoulder and cuts, it’s amazing that he made it. A week in the hospital, I decided it was just safer to bring him home with me. I have the guest room, and he needed a new life anyways. Business has been picking up lately, so I hired him on as a personal assistant. Raz now handles my schedule, my hire calls, and sets up my meetings. He’s oddly, very organized, which I’m sure is a trait he picked up dealing drugs and whatever else he did. He’s also discreet, a very important thing in my business. But, it’s better for him to be off the streets. The kid’s only twenty one. Left out there, I’m sure he would have died.

Though he still has the mohawk, at least he dresses better now. When I decided to hire him on, I had to make sure he fit in a little better. The hair doesn’t really matter, this is Hollywood after all, but he had to dress the part. His undying appreciation really made me step back and think. This kid must not have ever had anyone take care of him before. He was constantly thanking me, then trying to put his hard guy face back on, but I could still see the hints of glee and happiness. Like a kid at Christmas, we found him a few suits, and some nicer jeans and shirts than what he had. I even got him new shoes. For the first time in a while, I felt my life had a true purpose, someone to take care of.

I’m ok Raz, I grumble, running a hand through my hair, Go ahead and get back to sleep. A look of concern flashes across his face before he turns to leave.

You know where I am if you need me man. It wouldn’t kill you to open up and talk to someone, you know? Like I haven’t heard that one before. Quietly shutting my door behind him, he heads out. Alone again, I lay back on my pillows, sweat cooling on my bare chest. Jessica again. After what happened, I had nightmares for weeks, months even. But the last few years, not so much. I thought they were over, I’d gotten used to sleeping through a night.

Jessica had been one of my very first clients. Her father, Peter Jacobs, was a VP of a technology company. They were on a fast track to outbid another company on a military contract. There had been threats made, and I was hired to be her bodyguard. At the time I was in my late 20’s, she was twenty three. Beautiful, young; she was amazing. Smart as any woman I had ever met. Her long jet black hair had flowed down her back, to this day I still remember the vanilla honey smell it always had to it. Her brown eyes had flecks of hazel in them, and sparkled every time she looked at me. Her pale skin was as soft as a baby’s. We had gotten very close in the few weeks I had worked for her and her father. A relationship bloomed, and I lost focus. Instead of worrying about protecting her and being diligent, I spent my time fawning over her and getting her between the sheets.

God, she had purred like a kitten too. Every touch, lick, nibble, and kiss I gave her, made her moan with pleasure. No other woman has compared to her. The way her sweet soft body moved beneath mine, the way it felt like we just fit together. Honestly I think I fell in love the first time I met her. I was young, and back then, love still meant something. She wasn’t just a lay or a conquest. Unlike most rich girls I meet, she was down to earth, smart, caring and spent her time doing good deeds. She volunteered at shelters, and was constantly working with the inner city kids. I could feel something was off between her and her father, but just figured it was just the tension of the situation. One night she had confided in me that he was her step-father and that the money he was using for floating his sinking business was hers, or supposed to be hers at twenty five. There was something more to the story, I could tell by her tone she was holding something back. But I didn’t want to press her. My main and only concern was protecting her, keeping her close to me. Thinking that just being by her side would keep her safe, I was wrong. Dead wrong. It all went to hell a week before the contracts were to be signed with Peter’s company.

We had gone to the club house she volunteered at in Oakland. She was big on tutoring kids there. Normally, we’d be weary of gangs, violence, lurkers. But, what happened was not something we could have anticipated. Walking in, holding hands, two men in suits and masks rushed up behind us. They bashed me on the head with the butt of a gun. As I went down, I remembered hearing her scream my name, before the world went dark around me. Waking up a short time later, a bunch of the kids and some of the aides were gathered around me, sirens blasting in the distance. Yelling out for her, they told me she was gone. Having heard the shouting they had all rushed outside to see what was going on, and watched on in horror as Jessica was thrown in the back of a van and taken away. I spent months, tirelessly searching for her. I covered all ends of LA, only to come up empty handed. No one knew about the kidnapping, there were no ransom demands.

Peter, Jessica’s step father, had pulled out and let the other company take the contract. I know how much of a loss that meant for his business, and for him. I had always thought he was a good man, a good father. His daughter meant more to him than any business or any amount of money. He would have done anything within his power and more to get her back. But the obsessive way he acted, sleeping in her room, holding her things, had started to bother me. I knew there was something wrong with him. The day the contracts were signed, we had been at his house, going over some leads that had come in, trying to figure out our next step. The doorbell had rang. Racing to the front door, tripping over each other, both of us were anxious to get there. Any news of Jessica would be better than nothing.

Opening the massive oak door, all that was there, was a small cardboard box. Inside of it, a bloody finger and a note saying This is all you will ever see of your daughter again. It had to be her finger. The engagement ring I had secretly given her the night before her abduction was there, sparkling in the bright California sun, taunting me. Turning from the door, I had thrown up all over the stone pathway leading from the garage to the door. I’ve seen death, hell, I’ve even killed men. But seeing the finger of the woman I was in love with, I couldn’t keep control over myself. As I heaved until nothing was left, I took a look back. Peter looked almost as destroyed as I felt. Peter was sobbing uncontrollably, his face beet red.

"You, this is all