Page 55 of Redeemed
We laugh, and things are better. Not good, but better.
Chapter Twenty-One
Connor
NOTHING LIKE OPENING your mouth and letting your inner asshole out. I’m through the hotel lobby and into the rental car before I really catch my breath.
But when I do…fuck.
I rake my hands through my hair, appalled by my own stupidity. Part of me wants to turn things around and make it Trajan’s mistake. Why would he agree to such a drastic step?
The rest of me wants to kick that selfish part in the balls.
Your vampire boyfriend spent weeks fighting off his maker’s command that he kill you. Now he’s found a way outand you shit on him.Real cool, MacPherson. Really fucking cool.
I pull the car out onto the access road that’ll take me to the freeway, although I don’t have an actual destination in mind. The light ahead of me turns red. Slowing to a stop, I grab my phone and open the maps app. Redondo Beach doesn’t look too far. I aim for Sepulveda and drive south.
I find a place to park and head for the water. This isn’t the remote, isolated area I’d hoped for. The strip, with its many shops and restaurants, has enough neon to see from space. Once I hit sand, I put the lights behind me and take off, walking so fast it’s almost a run.
No matter how far I go, though, the traffic and noise hang on. I finally pick a lifeguard tower at random, climb to the top, and sit facing the water. The tide is high and the steady pulse of the waves soothe me. I try to empty my mind in hopes the answer will come to me if I’m not thinking about it.
I’ve been romantically involved with a vampire for years, but tonight, I balked at his desire to do something that’s basic to his nature.
Vampires aren’t born, they’re made, but when Trajan said he intended to turn someone, I made a derogatory comment about his existence.
He’s not going to forgive that easily, and I can’t blame him.
The thing that really twists the knife is that he agreed to do it to keep from killing me. Guilt spreads over me like a damp blanket and again I try to let my thoughts go.
Doesn’t work any better this time.
I watch the waves recede, trying to work out a way back to that godawful hotel room. I would apologize—of course I would apologize—and if—if—Trajan forgives me, I’ll ask a few questions about this task he’s given himself. From there we can discuss our general approach to getting Betancourt and how to save the Princess.
All that assumes I can climb down from this chair.
“I’m so sorry,mo shíorghrá.I should never have implied…no.” I mumble the words to the water. “Try again. I’m sorry,mo shíorghrá. I’m honored that you’d take this on for me, but…Not that, either.”
I let my head tip back so I’m staring up into the heavens. “Come on, MacPherson. You’re made of stronger stuff than this.”
At least I think I’m made of stronger stuff. There’s only one way to find out.
I climb down and trudge through the sand. People are partying on the lanai of a restaurant named Tony’s. Their raucous laughter could be aimed directly at me. I deserve to be laughed at. Hell, I deserve more than that. Hoping I don’t make things worse, I head for the car.
I’m still hoping when I reach the hotel. I knock on the door to our room, even though I have the key. David calls “Hello” through the door, and I answer.
“It’s me. Connor. I’d like to talk to you if I could.”
David swings the door open. “Took you long enough.” He stands aside and for a moment I hesitate. I’m always apologizing for shit. At some point Trajan’s going to run out of patience with me.
I just have to hope he hasn’t reached that point yet.
I enter and realize it’s just the three of us. “Where’s, uh, Sheena and…the new girl?”
“Cliffe’s going to sleep in the guest room at Sheena’s for the time being,” Trajan says. His aura is a cool blue, at odds with his rumpled trousers and button-down. His aura isn’t usually so clear and I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things. The blue stays the same, a pretty contrast to David’s golden aura.
David has a flowered sarong tied around his hips and a sleeveless mesh top that shows off his biceps and pecs and both my men look so good I’m afraid of what’ll come out if I open my mouth.
“Are you okay?” David asks. “We were worried when you took off like that.”
