Page 100 of Sex Coach

Thirty-Three

Jake

M y gut was crawling.

The note from Michelle, the ticket, all of it had left me filled with anger and more than a little fear .

It had been a week since Michelle and I talked about McCrane, and she'd been...distant. Distracted .

Now I understood why .

She left me a short explanation of what she planned to do and told me if I wanted to face him, I could come join the party .

Party?

One thing she didn't know about Washington McCrane – he was dangerous .

It wasn't just that he'd arranged for me to go to prison. I had a bad feeling he was behind his own son's overdose and there were many other ugly things that trailed back to him. I couldn't prove any of them, but that many trails of smoke weren't coming just because he was a nice, friendly guy .

The press pass she left me had gotten me inside, and so far, nobody had stopped me either. One thing I'd learned in my life was that if you acted like you belonged somewhere, most people left you alone. But now that I was inside the posh hotel conference area, I had no idea where to look for Michelle. Pulling out my phone, I debated on whether to send her a text, only to discover she'd sent me one at some point between my leaving the apartment and getting here .

It read simply .

MacArthur Suite.

I'd been in this particular hotel before and knew that suite. I could even thank Whitley for that. The ballroom was two levels and the MacArthur was up on the second level, just outside the main entrance on that floor. Jogging up the stairs, I told myself that I just might spank Michelle for scaring me like this .

Hotel staff, caterers, people in suits, all of them buzzed around and none of them paid me any attention as I strode down the hall and hung a left .

This hallway was more deserted, quieter too .

The discreet plaque outside the room I needed had a small note beneath. Private party. Do not enter .

Sneering at it, I reached for the handle .

A clatter and a bellow on the other side of the door had me pausing for the briefest second, while the words oh, shit spun through my mind .

I jerked on the handles, but they didn't open .

"Fuck this shit," I muttered, rearing back .

Being big and muscled came in handy at times, and the doors gave way under my shoulder as I rammed into them .

I came up short, though .

Michelle stood in the middle of the room, a frown on her face. And she was holding the front of her shirt, waving it back and forth. There was a wet stain splattering the front of it. On the floor by her feet lay Washington McCrane, his eyes rolled back in his head .

"What the ..."

She looked up at me, then at the doors I'd forced open. "Why did you do that?" Her eyes were big and wide .

"I heard you call out !"

"Oh..." She went red and bit her lip. "He...um...he went to grab me and I..." She mimed swinging her elbow at him .

"You did that?" I pointed to the ass on the floor .

"Yes." She smiled, looking pleased. "After...well, a few years ago, I thought maybe I should take self-defense. I've got a brown belt in taekwondo. That's the first time I've ever actually had to hit somebody though." With a frown, she rubbed her elbow. "It kind of hurt ."

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