Hard Beat(26)

We make it to the hotel without incident. I pay the driver and am out of the car and striding into the hotel without giving her a second glance. I know she’s safe since we’re at the hotel but couldn’t care less what she does now. She thinks chivalry is dead… I’ll show her just how dead it is. Let her fend for herself in this godforsaken place.

Anger and theories fuel my every step as I stride into the alleyway at the rear of the hotel where I had the driver drop us off. We have to forgo a lobby entrance because making one would mean we’d have to pass by Pauly and the crew who would know something was up since we were out and about rather than locked in our rooms.

All I focus on is calming my temper, but the clipped sound of her steps behind me echoes off the walls around us.

“Tanner. Tanner.” More footsteps. “Wait. Please. Wait!”

I ignore her, don’t want to deal with her, but when she grabs my biceps, I’m primed for the fight and ready to unload on her. I whirl around and have her back up against the wall within a heartbeat.

“You want the f*cking story, you work for it your goddamn self.” My hands are on the sides of her shoulders, and my face is mere inches from hers. “You think you can waltz into my meet and take the f*ck over?”

In an attempt to control my fury that’s spiraling out of control, I release my grip and stalk away from her a few feet. I’m loyal to a fault, so to feel betrayed is something I don’t take lightly. When I turn back around, Beaux’s shoulders are pressed against the wall, her eyes are wide, and her mouth is slightly open – shock written all over her face – and the words I’m about to shout die on my lips.

She looks like a frightened child.

It takes me a second to see through the haze of my fury to realize I’m f*cking losing it. I’m standing with fists clenched and more angry than I’ve been in some time, wanting to throw a punch like she’s some damn guy. But I know beyond a doubt she’s so far from that, it’s comical.

I roll my shoulders and try to rein my emotions in because the woman makes me a goddamn lunatic. Add to that I don’t know what to say or do besides shake the truth out of her, and that’s not a f*cking option.

I’m not sure if it’s the look on her face or the memories dredged up in my mind, but I have a flash of clarity that causes me to take a step back. I’m out of control, my anger over what happened to Stella is being transferred to Beaux, and the certainty I had ten minutes ago that she was trying to steal my story now has more holes in it than a fishing net.

I begin to speak, but instead just shake my head, run my fingers through my hair, and blow out a breath as I turn on my heel and stalk into the hotel. All I can think about as I jog up the stairwell is how my always sure self is nonexistent these days and how f*cking hard that is for a man used to being in control of everything – work, relationships, instinct.

When I shove the door of my room open, it slams into the wall behind it. I push it closed with my shoulder, but I’m so distracted that all I can think about is hitting the gym to try and work this all out of my system before taking a scalding hot shower to wash away the day and the doubt that feels like a damn constant since I’ve been back here.

I forgo unbuttoning my shirt, grab hold of the back of my collar, and pull it over my head, tossing it to the bed behind me without glancing back. In a practiced habit, I pull the Glock from my waistband.

“You had a gun?” Beaux’s quiet but surprised voice cuts through the tension pulling me so damn tight, a f*cking breeze might cause me to snap.

I grunt in response but look toward her standing in my door anyway. Her head scarf is off, hair pulled back like that first night we met with little curls falling softly on those defined cheekbones of hers, and sincerity is reflected in her eyes that keep darting to my weapon on the tabletop beside me.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“It was open.” I hear the startled inhale of someone not used to dealing with guns when I release the magazine from the butt and set it on the dresser in front of me.

“Lots of places are open in this city that I wouldn’t go inviting myself into, FYI.” I slide an impatient glance her way as I double-check to make sure that the weapon is empty and safe.

“I – I just didn’t realize that you could carry a weapon here.”

“You can’t. Next topic or get the f*ck out because frankly you’ve used up about all of my patience, and it’s probably best if you’re not around me right now.” I swear my anger must roll off me and slam into her, because she just stares with her mouth agape. “That’s what I thought. Thanks for the chat. Now if you’ll see yourself out…,” I say as I turn to the barely there closet where my suitcase is stowed to get some gym shorts, dismissing her and her surprised eyes.

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” My step falters at the contrition in her voice, causing me to turn to stare and wait for her to continue. The silence between us stretches, and I can tell that my gun sitting out in the open unnerves her by the way her eyes keep flickering to it. Does she agree with the brass? Think I’m losing it too? “Tanner…”

“You didn’t tell me you were fluent in Dari.” Screw waiting for her and her placating tone. I’m a man of action, and we need to get to the bottom of this right here, right now.

“You’ve been so busy holding a grudge against me, you didn’t care to ask.” She sets her camera down on the nightstand, and with her shield now gone, her posture changes and becomes more defensive.