Page 127 of Defenders of Jawhara

“Where are you going?” Slade called out.

“To do my research.”

14

Bethany took a taxi back to the B&B. She kept it waiting while she went inside to grab her laptop. Every step, she was muttering about Slade’s interference and trying not to slam doors. She had the driver take her to the nearest Starbucks. She threw her credit card at him to pay for the fare. That’s what she should have done from the start—paid her own way and not let Slade take over by inches and yards. In her defense, she’d been reeling from Tayra’s illness and death—she had neglected too many things over the last few months. Well, she could focus now, and she wasn’t letting Slade push Jason into something that could be very bad.

Settling back with her latte, she dove into her research.

Two hours later, she had to face the idea that this treatment really could be the best thing for Jason. The option for breaking his leg, resetting it, and letting the bone grow that way was there, but Dr. Baxter’s work in pioneering his treatment was remarkable. Slade was right yet again. But that didn’t mean he was right about everything. Or that she was wrong to be cautious. Although she did wonder if she had been too hard on him. She was used to being the strong one, the decision maker, and she didn’t like it when someone she’d known for days was so quick to step in with a plan without consulting her first. Even if he was Jason’s father. Did that give him more rights than her?

Staring at a browser, she sipped her now-cold coffee. What was she going to do with Slade? The man liked to run not only his own life and his employees’ lives, but probably everyone else’s. If she let him, would he take over until she didn’t even have a life—and she’d look back and wonder what had happened?

Yet, he had people around him—did it take someone who would stand up to him, or someone who could ignore his pushing? She frowned over that. Did she even want to hang around and find out? But how could she cut Slade out of Jason’s life? Legally or emotionally? That was yet another problem.

She was feeling like she had felt back in the tech world—the boys’ club. That was Slade’s work—all guys and testosterone and they all thought they knew best. She could sympathize with Tayra now and the urge to bail on this.

A woman could be swallowed up by a guy like Slade. If she let him, he’d put her in a nice safe box where she’d suffocate. Bethany had walked away from the tech world to avoid that kind of smothering, but how could she walk away from Slade? She also had to admit that part of this was her problem—she’d always had a problem accepting help from others. Could she bend a little? Could she give Slade some room to help her? Could she make that change, too?

Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up. Two guys who looked like surfers—shaggy, sun-streaked hair, tans, and lean bodies—were hanging out one table over, sipping iced drinks. One of them smiled at her and turned back to his phone. She almost dismissed them, but there was something off about the two of them.

They weren’t flirting with the pretty girls at the counters, who were doing their best to get noticed by these two. They were watching their phones, but they weren’t texting or talking or doing anything else. She glanced at her smart phone. She brought up her program that would trace and kill any snooping software. She started it running—just in case. Five seconds later, one of the guys swore and hit her with a glare.

She gave the guy an innocent stare. He got up and headed over to her. He tossed his smart phone onto the table. “You did that?”

She glanced behind her. “Excuse me, did you want something?”

He sat down next to her and held out a hand. “I’m Trent. That’s my brother Travis, and yeah, Slade had us trail you, but that’s no reason to melt my damn phone from the inside. Now how’d you do it?”

She bit her lower lip. She could keep up the innocent act, but from what Slade had said, these guys knew their way around computers. She shook his hand and started to explain her program. Travis drifted over, sitting down. The two men listened intently to every word. Trent started to grin. “That’s it. I don’t care if the boss is sleeping with you or not, but he damn well better hire your ass.”

Leaning back in her chair, she said, “I’d ask you to call your boss and tell him to get his ass over here, but that’s going to be a problem.”

Trent pushed a finger at his dead phone. Reaching into a back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out another one. “Backup,” he said. He called Slade, spoke briefly, and in what sounded like code to Bethany. Slade arrived fast enough that she knew he hadn’t been far away. Of course.

He came over to her table, nodding at Travis and Trent. The two surfer dudes drifted away. Slade sat down. He looked buttoned-down again, with a white shirt, a tie, and dark trousers. He looked great. Bethany tried to hang onto her resolve. She was not anyone’s property. She was never going to let Slade own her. Time to lay down some ground rules.

She nodded at the counter. “The least you can do is buy a drink.”

He rose, went to the counter, bought two tall coffees, and came back. Sitting down again, he smoothed his tie. “I’m sorry if I come on too strong at times.”

“Yeah, well, it’s no wonder Tayra ran for her life. Is Brock just like you now?”

Slade winced. “Close enough.”

Bethany nodded. “I get it now. Tayra had to run. You guys—you steamroll everyone, don’t you? It’s ‘my way or the highway’ and ‘take no prisoners’ crap. Even back then, Tayra never would have been able to handle the loneliness when he wasn’t around and then his overwhelming presence when he was. He wasn’t so bad in high school, which is probably why she thought she could handle it, but once he joined the Navy and became a SEAL? His bravado alone would have filled a room, pushing her out. That’s why she never stopped loving him—but she couldn’t live with him.”

Slade rubbed a hand over his chin and asked, “And you?”

Bethany leaned forward. “I’ll only say this once, so it’s your turn to listen up and forget the questions. You were right about Jason and the treatment.” Slade opened his mouth, but Bethany held up a finger. He shut his mouth again. “We’ll talk to Jason and make a decision together.”

Slade frowned. “Is this a damn democracy?”

“That’s a question, and you bet it is. That means it’s open for debate, too. I am not Tayra. I don’t run from a fight. I don’t pull my punches either. If I’m going to stay, I’ll stay because I want to, not because you’ve done your ‘claim the fair maiden as your prize’ knightly thing—got it?”

“Does that mean I get to talk now?”

She shook her head. “That’s a question—I’m looking for an answer.”

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