Page 97 of Boost

“That wasn’t intentional and we both know it. It was a reaction, just like yours was when he took you off-guard.”

Tian scoffed harshly. “Oh, come off it and stop making excuses for him. You might love him, but open your fucking eyes, woman.”

“Get out,” I screamed.

Tian curled his lip andtskedat me, then mercifully left before tears welled in my eyes. My entire world had become distressingly unstable, and there was nothing I could do to settle it.

Logan lingered until he knew I was okay, and Roxiee slowly picked up the forgotten ice-pack from the floor and handed it to me. I took it with shaking hands and tilted my head to the ceiling, willing the emotions away before I completely broke.

“You two look like you’ve gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson,” she mumbled.

An ugly laugh-cry escaped as what was left of my strength dissipated. I turned to hide the tears that blurred my vision.

“Are we suing?”

Her question shook me harder than my argument with Tian did. If this resulted in a lawsuit, that not only put our reputation at risk of going under, but it would also be incredibly damaging for the Boost Foundation.

Hastily dashing away the moisture clouding my gaze, I took a series of deep breaths to steady my voice

“No, we won’t be suing.”

Chapter 41

-Raf-

Lowlife.It rang in my ears as I entered the elevator.Don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

The words echoed throughout my head. Terrorizing it. Allowing old memories to take hold.

I thought I’d become a better man than my father. Risen above what I’d endured and broke the cycle of how I’d seen a man treat his woman and children.

And, until today, Ihadrisen above my past. Right up until the moment I hurt the woman that had quickly become everything to me.

Now, I was nothing better than the ugly, caustic monster my father had been. All because I jumped to conclusions when I walked into Landon-Michaels in search of Greer and found Christian holding her like he was about to kiss her.

I was programmed to protect what was mine, and it fucking killed me that I’d lost Greer trying to do exactly that.

Nausea and disgust coiled in the pit of my stomach. It pitched and rolled violently. Crippling me so forcefully I had to reach for the elevator handrail to steady myself. I’d broken my one rule of never hurting those I loved, forgetting those morals in a moment of blindness as if they stood for nothing.

Greer was the only woman to bring me to my knees, and now my own actions did the same.

I caught a flash of myself in the shiny elevator walls. Ugly. Tormented. A monster. It was all there, staring back at me. Taunting and daring me to lash out and punch something like my hand itched to do again. To hell with the after-brawl ache that ran through my knuckles. I needed a release.

When the elevator door pinged open to eject me into the vast foyer, I bit it all back behind my teeth. Swallowed it down and strode across the gleaming stone tiles without seeing. I had to escape. Reach my car. Drive. Drive until it took the edge off.

My hands shook as I slid behind the wheel of my GT-R and gunned the engine. With complete disregard for the parking garage speed limits, I took each ramp like I did each street race; recklessly and at high speed.

Once out on the street, I worked my way in and out of traffic while gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I’d ruined her, just like I knew I eventually would. And the kicker; there wasn’t an ounce of self-sabotage involved—it had purely been a knee-jerk reaction in the heat of the moment that caused me to lose it all.

I drove a hundred miles up the coast, through Malibu and Santa Barbara, all the while airing my soul on the wind. It was all I could do to escape. To block out the utter devastation and pain in Greer’s eyes. Jesus fuck, those brown depths of hers haunted me every time I blinked, every time I let my mind slip back into habits of craving her.

On a whim another fifteen miles down the 101, I took the exit to the swanky as fuck Ritz-Carlton hotel and pulled into the resort’s courtyard. I functioned on auto-pilot, hardly hearing the woman at the reception desk telling me they couldn’t check me in for another two hours, but I was welcome toenjoy a beverage in one of the bars.

After what just went down, a drink sounded pretty fucking good. I slapped my car keys on the reception desk.

“You’ll sort these, yeah?” I asked, with a jerk of my head to where my GT-R sat at the entrance.

The woman hesitated. “We don’t normally offer a valet service, sir.”

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