Page 80 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

This was just another test for me to show her I was all in.

I wasn’t going to let any guy but me touch her ever again.

“See you guys later,” I told Walker and Camden, ignoring their questions as I stalked out of the locker room. I’d have to catch them up later, because this needed to be handled. Now.

Dialing the number for the PI, I breathed a sigh of relief when he picked up after the second ring. “I need you to find out who’s on her client list for tonight, eight p.m. at the Plaza Hotel.” My voice was tight, barely controlled, fury lacing each word.

“You got it,” he said, no hesitation, no questions. My kind of guy. I’d never had a need for a PI in my life before Sloane, but I was fucking grateful for him now, or at least forLincoln. It’s not like the PI was doing any of this out of the kindness of his heart.

Waiting around for him to call me back was something I couldn’t do. Not when every second felt like I was one step closer to losing her forever. I stormed out of the practice facility and drove straight to the hotel.

The Plaza looked pristine, gleaming…like luxury wrapped in glass and steel. It didn’t look like the kind of place where something like this could happen. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Things like this didn’t happen in seedy motels. They happened in high-end hotels, where the rich could pretend they weren’t doing something filthy.

I parked around the corner and got out of the truck, pacing the block like an animal trapped in a cage, my phone in hand as I waited for the info to come in. Every second stretched out painfully long, my mind racing with what could happen tonight. I wanted to punch something, anything, just to release some of the fury bubbling beneath the surface.

Finally, the phone buzzed. I snatched it up, and the investigator’s message came through.

Politician. Big name. Family man. Campaigns on values.

Of course it was. The hypocrisy of it hit like a slap to the face, but it made perfect sense. These guys always did this. They built their reputations on being the perfect husbands, the perfect fathers, all while dipping into the darkest parts of the world.

His disgusting hands weren’t going to touch my girl.

I read through the guy’s information as I entered the hotel, keeping my head down just in case someone recognized me, my jaw clenched tight as I walked into the lobby. The place was buzzing with guests, people moving about like it was just another day. They had no idea what was really happening beneath their oblivious noses, how many lives were being twisted in these hallways.

I booked a room on the same floor she was supposed to be going to, knowing I wouldn’t be able to use the elevator without a room key. Finally making it to the elevator, I was pretty sure it was the slowest elevator that existed on Earth. “Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled out my phone and looked at Sloane’s location. Based on the tracker on her phone, I only had ten minutes to make this happen, so everything needed to go smoothly.

The elevator doors dinged, and I stepped out, grinning when I spotted the maid’s cart near an open room. They really should have better security up here.

I strode over and grabbed the universal key off the top, slipping it into my pocket as I moved down the hallway, my eyes scanning the room numbers until I found the one I was looking for. I didn’t bother knocking. I swiped the keycard and pushed the door of the suite open, revealing a fancy living area with a couch and a television. I could hear the faint sound of moans and grunts coming from the next room, and I braced myself for what I was about to see. Striding across the carpet, I stopped when I reached the doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. I was going to have to bleach my eyes after this. Jared Stroople, one of the esteemed congressmen from Louisiana, was lying on the hotel bed, butt naked, his dick already ready to go. Porn was playing on the television, and there was an array of dildos on the bed.

And I doubted they were all for Sloane…I wanted to throw up thinking of this fucker anywhere close to her.

The huge grin on his face fell fast when he saw me, his eyes widened in shock, his entire body freezing up like he couldn’t believe someone had just barged in on him.

“What the hell—” He was struggling off the bed when I pulled out my phone and snapped a series of pictures, each one capturing him in that moment of panic.

He shot off the bed, stumbling over himself as he tried to straighten up. “What are you doing? You can’t be here!” His voice cracked with the fear I could see all over his face.

I took a step forward, my voice low and controlled. “Says who?” I asked with a grin. I snapped another picture, the flash bright in the dim room. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to walk out of this room, and you’re never going to contact that service again. You’re never going to come near Sloane or anyone else involved in this mess. You’re not going to complain. You’re not going to make a single sound. Because if you do—” I held up my phone, showing him the photos I’d just taken. “These go to every news outlet in the country. Every. Single. One. Missy would be really interested in this situation…don’t you think?”

The blood drained from his face at the mention of his wife of twenty-five years, his mouth hanging open as he stared at me like I was holding a loaded gun to his head. “You can’t…you wouldn’t…I have a family…”

“And that’s your problem,” I snapped, cutting him off. I wasn’t here to listen to excuses. “You didn’t think about that family before you came here, did you?”

He stumbled backward, his hands trembling as he tried to cover his tiny dick.

I wasn’t done, though. I swiped through my phone, pulling up the list my investigator had sent me—every time this guy had used the service, every girl—and guy—he’d requested.

“Let’s see…April 3 you metDollyin room 378. On April 7, you metFelicityin room 492. AndToddwas on April 12.” I raised an eyebrow as the congressman whimpered, and then I huffed out a laugh. “Interesting…that was your ten-year-old’s birthday. Just couldn’t keep it in your pants could you?” I held the phone up, making sure he saw the list in full detail. “This is a history of all the times you’ve dipped your tiny dick into this well. I know who you’ve seen, when you’ve seen them, how much you’ve paid…and I’ll make sure the world knows, too.”

His face was the face of a dead man, gray and haunted.

If he ever touched Sloane again…hewouldbe a dead man. So this experience was probably good for him.

His legs nearly gave out beneath him as he threw on his boxers, grabbed his suit, and bolted for the door. His whole body was shaking as he tried to get out of the room as fast as possible. “You forgot your dicks,” I called after him, but he didn’t look back, struggling to put on his pants as he turned the corner. A man running like his ass was on fire.

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