Page 11 of Surrender

“Hey, Jack. Sorry to bother you so early, but I need you down here. Quick if you can.”

I whistle sharply at Cooper and move through the sliding door. “What’s the problem?”

Hunter’s voice acquires a disgusted edge. “One of our guests called the cops on that single mom who checked in yesterday. They came down to complain this morning about her children crying all night.”

“What the fuck,” I mutter, slamming the sliding door behind Cooper. I sprint for the entrance to the attached garage and haul ass into my SUV.

“Right. I told them I’d check in with her and handle things, and they not-so politely told me they’d already handled it.”

“Any idea who’s coming?”

“No. Sorry, boss.”

“It’s fine.” Gloveless fingers twist around the cold leather steering wheel as I speed down the road. The dash reads seven forty-five. Fuck, it’s early. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few to handle it.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for coming.”

“You got it.”

I hang up and depress the accelerator.

Something akin to guilt twists my gut. Whitney’s face flashes in my mind. Her gentleness with her kids. The passing joke about calling her Whitney and not Mrs. Thompson.

The conversation we had yesterday was brief, but the tension around her eyes hinted to more beneath the surface of needing a place to stay. A lengthy one at that. As if she didn’t already appear have enough going on, someone called the cops on her.

I shouldn’t care. She’s simply another guest, but I feel like I should have been there. If I get there in time, she might not need to even know anything happened, and I can send Fairview Valley’s finest on their way.

The lot is vacant of police cruisers when I skid in twenty minutes later. I park in front and advance through the doors before the running lights have even dimmed.

A couple stands before Hunter at the desk, their faces twisted in anger. The room contains enough tension to feel suffocating, an obvious contrast to the cold air outside.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Kramer. I hear there’s a problem?”

The woman gasps sharply as if my question offended her, but her husband answers. “We hardly got a minute of sleep last night, Jack. When we checked in, you said this week would be quiet.”

“Yes, I did say that. What happened last night?”

“Someone’s baby kept me up all night,” the woman answers bitterly.

I bite back a sigh. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” I shift behind the desk and glance at the reservation screen. “If you’d like, I can move you to the other end of the hallway so you’ll be farther away from their room. I can also offer you some earplugs if that might help. And I will speak to her and see if there’s a problem we can fix.”

“Some people just aren’t made to be mothers.” The woman speaks loudly, as if expecting the room to agree with her. Her husband nods, but Hunter chokes back a sound while my brows snap together.

“What on earth makes you say that?”

A black strand of hair falls into her eyes as she leans on the desk. She brushes it away before whispering conspiratorially, “Because babies only cry like that when they’re being abused.”

A white-hot fire lights inside my gut. It burns deeply and bright, illuminating years of real abuse from my childhood. The scars and internal wounds that won’t ever fully heal. All the damaged parts.

“And you make that accusation on what basis, exactly?” I bite out. The words feel thick on my tongue. The shift in my energy forces her a step back.

“I mean, you can just tell,” she splutters.

“Mrs. Kramer. Mr. Kramer.” I roll my tongue on the inside of my cheek to gather a minute of calm before I bite her fucking head off. “I have offered you a solution. I’m sorry your sleep was interrupted, and I assure you that I will take it from here.”

The couple glances at each other. “I don’t know,” Mr. Kramer starts. “I think maybe we should wait for the police.”

“I will handle it!” I snap. My fingers resting on the computer mouse twitch. “I’ll refund you one night’s stay for the trouble. If you’d please return to your room, call down when you’re ready for breakfast, and Hunter will bring you a meal from the local café. There are menus in the drawer beneath the television.”

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