Big Easy Temptation (The Perfect Gentlemen #3)(65)

Her words didn’t seem to affect him. If anything, he smiled a little more brightly. “Well, we did our best. It looks like you moved on to the next idiot. Tell me something. How much money did you make off this asshole? Like the tux, by the way. He really went out of his way.”

She was done with this conversation. “Is there something I can do for you, Captain Spencer? If not, I’d like you to leave the premises. I don’t invade your workspace and I expect that you won’t enter mine again. Get back to the base. I’m sure there’s some bright-eyed civilian waiting to be your next drunken conquest.”

“I don’t need to get a girl drunk to get her in bed, sweetheart. You should know that.”

“No, she just needs to be drunk to marry you.”

He froze for a moment and she wished she could take the words back. “Well, now that is true, but that’s what happens when your life gets dragged through the mud and predatory insects spend all their time using you. Did that little boy know that you enjoy fucking for cash? I swear, Holland, if I’d known all you really wanted was a little profit, we could have worked something out. Hell, I’d have paid a lot to fuck your ass.”

One minute she was listening to him and the next she was barreling down on him, her hand arcing through the air and connecting with his cheek. The sound flashed through the quiet room like a crack of thunder.

His eyes flared and he leaned in, looking ready to reach for her. Then suddenly, he shook it off. Disappointment wound through Holland, though she did get some small satisfaction from seeing her handprint on his face. It wouldn’t be there long. In fact, it was already fading, but at least he’d feel it for a few moments.

How the hell had they gotten here? She’d loved this man with all her heart. She’d given everything to save him. And he’d called her a whore. It really was time to move on. She’d let him go to protect him. She realized now she’d always believed—and hoped—that one day he would stand in front of her again so they could start over because they were meant to be.

It hit her with the impact of a two-by-four to the chest there was no “meant to be” in life. Was she really still five fucking years old and waiting for her prince to come? Her daddy. Yeah. She was still waiting for her father to come home and treat her like a princess, to see everything her mother had sacrificed. The truth was her mother had died broken and alone and waiting. Not long after that, her father had remarried and shipped his daughter off to New Orleans so she wouldn’t cause trouble with the new wife. So she could be forgotten.

Holland was suddenly so tired.

“Believe it or not I didn’t come here to insult you,” Dax said after a moment.

“It doesn’t matter.” It really didn’t anymore. This man who stood in front of her now wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with. Maybe that man hadn’t existed in the first place. Maybe she’d merely made him up in her head. “If you’re looking for someone in particular, I suggest you speak with the receptionist. Everyone’s in a meeting right now. They should be out in an hour or so.”

She picked up her purse. Screw lunch. She would take the afternoon off. Everyone would know why when they saw who was here.

Holland frowned. In fact . . . why was he here if it wasn’t to make her miserable? She supposed there could be any number of reasons and not one of them concerned her.

“Take care,” she murmured, then started to go, but he reached out, grabbing her arm.

“Wait. I came to see you, but not about us. Obviously. Neither one of us wants to dredge up old wounds. I came here because there’s been a break in my father’s case and I expect you to do what you didn’t do last time—your job. I guess you like to make your money the old-fashioned way—by selling out your lovers—but this time I need you to be a cop.”

She stared at him for a moment, feeling her jaw drop. He was back here to look into his father’s case? And he was still calling her a whore. Everything she’d done, she’d done to protect him, but he was too stupid to see it.

She was done playing his games. She was stepping out of the middle of this shit for good. If he wanted to risk himself and the people in his life, that was his call. She was done.

Holland twisted her arm away and tossed her purse down, then turned back to her computer. The case files were still there. She hadn’t deleted or altered a thing. In fact, she’d spent the last three years quietly searching for the man who’d casually ruined her life. She’d been smart about it this time around since she’d known someone would be watching her. She’d kept up her life at NCIS and found ways to mine information on the deep web where no one could track her. That man on the phone had proven elusive, but she’d found him. Apparently his usefulness had come to an end six months before because they’d found a John Doe in New York City who matched her man’s description. She’d recognized him from the photos in NYPD files, but no one knew his name, only that he’d had connections to the Bratva.

Without another word, she e-mailed the entire file to Dax. As soon as she got home, she would delete every shred of her investigation. She would burn the hard copy she had and start life over again. Without him. Without any expectation of him.

“There. I just sent you my whole file, including all my case notes and everything I’ve discovered in the last three years. Think before you look at some of those photos. They’ll make you look at your father in a different light, but that’s your call now. If you tell my superiors I sent you that file, you’ll surely get me fired. I’m certain that will make your day. Don’t ever call or contact me again, and I would absolutely get bodyguards on your loved ones if you really give a damn about them. Once the Russian mob knows that you’re looking into this again, they’ll come after your mother and sister.”