Page 94 of Defiant Beta

Me too.

In the corner of the parking lot, there’s a big guy in a leather jacket and a barely dressed thin woman, their backs to us. Fuck knows what they’re doing there, but whatever it is, I want Della nowhere near them or this place. “Wait in the car, Della. This place isn’t safe.”

By the time I’ve unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out, Della is slamming her door shut and meeting my gaze over the roof of the car.

“You can argue, but I promise you’re facing an uphill battle,” she warns.

Vincent called her a menace. Xavier likened her to a squirrel of destruction.

Neither are wrong.

I stride to the entrance. “Fine. Stay behind me. Let me do the talking.”

The man at the front desk is in an off-white, stringy tank top. He has a light brown fuzz over his top lip that could barely be called a mustache, bloodshot eyes, and a shifty, twitchy look about him that makes me think he’s on something.

His eyes narrow on us. “You cops?”

I haven’t said a word, and he’s already paranoid as fuck. I should have insisted that Della stay in the car.

“No. We’re just here for?—”

“You think I don’t know cops when I see them?” The man’s voice rises as his hand disappears under the counter.

I’m shoving Della behind me when she steps around me.

“Uh, this is embarrassing,” she says with a nervous laugh.

The man’s eyes dart between us, his hand under the counter. I didn’t grab a weapon, thinking it would be a quick mission. Big fucking mistake. This guy is paranoid and packing. A dangerous combination.

“What is?” he asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Della speaks in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. “Our fathers work together and we want to be together, but we can only do it in a motel in a part of town where no one recognizes us.”

The man stares at Della. Della stares back, eyes half-lowered, cheeks pink. How she’s blushing on command is a mystery to me.

“You want a room.” The man’s hand stops moving under the counter.

I hope to fuck he has his hands on a weapon and not doing something else with the way he’s suddenly looking at Della.

She nods firmly. “Do you have one with mirrors on the ceiling? I once saw a movie with?—”

I nudge Della aside at the sharp spark of interest in the guy's eyes. “How much?”

The guy is still trying to look at Della.

I step directly in front of Della, blocking her completely. “The room, please?” I fish my wallet out of my back pocket.

His eyes narrow on me.

Della leans around me, saying in a loud whisper, “He’s the associate in my daddy’s law firm. You know lawyers? That’s why he sounds like a cop. Promise he’s not though, because if you knew the things he once did to me on his office desk...” She fans herself.

Fucking hell.

“Della!” I hiss.

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “It’s not my fault I’m an over-sharer,” she says to me, then turns to the motel clerk. “I’m an Aries.”

“Aquarius,” the motel clerk says.

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