Page 80 of Rush of Jealousy

“Then why is he even part of the agency if he is so bad? Why risk all the other girls, me included?”

“It is not that easy. I have to choose my next steps carefully. Things are not always black and white. You just don’t get it.”

“Apparently not,” I snarl, removing the ice pack from my skin and placing it on the floor.

“I want to be honest, I do. But there are things that I cannot share. Yet. Just trust me that I have your best interests at heart. That I would do anything to protect you.”

“But what about the other girls?” I press.

Graham sighs. “I’m taking precautions. As much as I can without setting off warning bells. But remember, Tanner doesn’t know I own Entice. I need to keep that fact a secret so I can maintain a certain amount of anonymity.”

I take a minute to cool down before I ask what has been nagging me all night. “How did you know I was at the Maylord?”

“I know a lot of people, Angie. I maintain a lot of connections—both in the business world and in my personal life. Someone saw you with Tanner leaving the Parkhouse Plaza and decided to pay me a favor. Thankfully I got to you in time. I had my men check with the front desk to get the room number.”

I look to him for clarification.

“Anyone can be bought off when the price is right.”

I nod. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“I’ll always come for you, baby.” His voice is gruff with angry need.

Tears stream down my cheeks at how mad I am at myself. Nothing about tonight happened the way I expected. Despite logically knowing I am a victim, I can’t help but think how badly I messed everything up.

“Tanner is using you as a way of getting to me, Angie. Can’t you see that? He knows that I’ll react in regard to you. You’re my kryptonite. My biggest weakness. You seem to always find some way to put yourself in danger, with dangerous people, and in dangerous situations. Hell, if danger didn’t exist, you would fucking dangle yourself in front of moving traffic or volunteer your body to science just to get what”—he makes a face—“a thrill? Is that what you are living for right now? A fucking thrill?”

Oh for the love of—“Fuck you!” My hands get tossed up into the air. What is with him? Dangling myself in front of traffic? What an imagination.

He laughs. Hard. He’s fucking laughing. I think he might cry. Bipolar bastard.

“Let me out of this damn car!” I demand, this time trying to open the actual door with sheer force, until my wrists are pinned tightly to the seat for the umpteenth time tonight.

“You are mine for the rest of the weekend,” he growls, pressing down on my skin, making my flesh turn white. It doesn’t hurt, but it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“What do you mean therestof the weekend?” So, we aren’t just driving around aimlessly, like we did after open mic night at The Shack? He’s taking me someplace? As in overnight?

“I need time to clean up this mess before we can return to Portland. Get all my ducks in a row and figure out my bearings.”

“Where are we going?”

“Does it matter?” He releases my hands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you always an asshat bastard? Or just when you are around me?”

“You drive me mad, woman!”

“I can’t stand you!” I lie.

His grin is boyish. “Love and hate are very strong emotions.”

I glare daggers at him.

“And they can be flipped very easily,” he explains. “I’ll take whatever I can get, even if it is hate, Miss McFee. But at least you are safe.”

“Am I?” I ask, more out of trying to piss him off. “From you?”

“Yes, dammit. I would never hurt you! And that is why we are not hanging around Portland for the weekend. While my men clean up the shit that you put into motion, I am guaranteeing your safety. If only for a day or so. And you being safe is something I do not fuck around with. Not anymore. I am done following the rules. I am tired of making concessions where you are concerned. It ends tonight.”

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