Page 36 of Forbidden Girl

“How about I pay cash up front,” I wager, “and put down a nonrefundable cleaning deposit on top of the room fees?”

Jules winks at me. Her posture reverts to easy breezy. “We try to live within our means.”

The woman examines us. Per usual, Jules looks well put together and stylish in her Calvin Klein V-neck dress. Glad I changed into my daily standard business casual.

“Unorthodox but, sure.”

She gives me a price. I offer an extra hundred bucks a night. She agrees. I sign the old-fashioned guest book with my dead mother’s maiden name and the address for the John F. Kennedy Library. We make the exchange—cash for a room key. “Your room is at the back of the house, down this corridor here, off to the right. Breakfast is served at eight thirty.”

Jules thanks her. All I can muster is a polite grin as my inner voice berates me: Why you gotta make everything so seedy? It’s not normal. No, it’s not. I long for normal. Maybe someday.

Jules is right that the searing water relieves my tender muscles. I’m aware heat exacerbates inflammation, but I don’t give a shit. I want instant relief. I get a FaceTime call as Jules is about to submerge her naked body in the hot tub. It’s Merrick. I answer with audio only. He doesn’t question it or greet me with any civilities. He goes straight to it.

“Bro, what the fuck did you do?”

What haven’t I done in the last few days? “Guess you heard.”

“That you shot one of Calloway’s guys at the marina, he bit it, and now you’re on the run? Yeah, I heard. Why’d I hear it from Ben and not you?”

“I haven’t had a lot of time to chat, Mer.”

“Oh, and Ben’s out and going to Estonia or somewhere in Europe with his dad?”

“Europe is news to me, too. But yes, I got him out.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Was it him or Alistair?”

He knows damn well it wasn’t Ben. Ben’s my guy, not my father’s. I don’t strongarm my guys into submission, or put the fear of God into them. I wouldn’t give anyone a reason to turn on me; it’s better to be respected out of love than respected out of fear. That’s how you earn and keep loyalty. It’s a concept Callum Monaghan never grasped.

“Alistair.”

“Is there anything else?”

I tell him I ruined the most perfect day of my existence by almost thrashing Teague to death on a scenic beach while his cousin, the woman I love, watched.

He heaves a sigh from deep in his chest. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

Hearing him say it, the hopelessness of his tenor, makes me consider lying, but he’d be able to tell. “I don’t know.”

“Take me off speaker.”

Shit… “Okay, done.” I bring the phone to my ear.

“Is she worth it?” he murmurs. “Everything you’ve had to do since you met her. Everything you’re giving up for her.”

Tension between our families has been building for years. I would have had to defend myself against the Calloways in due course, once things became untenable. Falling in love with Jules sped up the arrival of an inevitable outcome, that’s all.

“Yes. But losing you and Ben, that’s the one thing that hurts. I haven’t said it enough, or maybe I’ve never said it at all, but I hope you know that I’ve always loved you both and I always will.”

He gets choked up and doesn’t try to cover it. “We love you, too, you idiot. If there’s anything I can do?—”

“I’ve kept you in the dugout as much as possible for a reason. Don’t try to make it to the starting lineup. Stay as far away from this disaster as you can.”

“I will. As long you know I’ve got your back should you need me.”

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