Page 49 of Deeper

Six. Two. Twelve. Twenty-three.

I smile and lean toward her. “You’ve run out of room numbers. What’s your next strategy?”

The way her lips press shut tells me that my hunch is right. Six was the room she was in with Tatum. Two was the room she toyed with me in. Twelve was the room I tried to break her. And twenty-three was the room next to the one with the mistress and her friends.

“I’m ready for a new game.” Tatum saves her from having to admit I figured it out.

“Probably for the best. Rylan doesn’t have any more numbers to play,” I tease.

Cocky or not, I’m right.

Rylan opens her mouth, probably to throw a smart comment my way, but my attention drifts over her shoulder to the man stumbling through the crowd behind her. His eyes are locked on Tatum. He reaches for her, but I step forward and yank him back by his arm. Careful not to make a scene, I hold the man’s arm tightly behind his back.

I’m seething with anger as my harsh words tumble out. “Do not touch her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” he slurs his words and unsuccessfully tries to free himself from my grasp. “The girl is a slut. I saw her at Utopia. I saw the way she was asking for it in that room. Girls don’t flaunt it in a place like that unless they want it.”

I pull his arm tighter behind his back, and with my other hand, I reach into the guy’s pocket, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open.

“What the fuck, man? I’m not into dudes. I’m into sluts like her.” The drunken man nods Tatum’s way.

“Robert Kendall,” I read from his license. “Apologize to her. Right now. Apologize for coming near her, for trying to grab her, and for speaking about her the way you did. She has the right to behave any way she wants—in or out of that club—and it doesn’t give you the right to take anything from her. Nothing. Got it?” I angle the idiot in Tatum’s direction.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

He cries out as I twist his arm further behind his own back.

“I’m deadly serious.”

Tatum moves closer to Rylan, looking uncomfortable with what’s happening.

“I’m sorry!” He rushes the words out. “I’m sorry for bothering you and for assuming things and for the stuff I said,” he whines in pain. “I’m sorry, okay? Make him let me go,” he pleads with Tatum.

“Leave this casino. If you have a room, check out. I don’t want to see you again tonight. And don’t bother ever going back to the club. I have your name, and after the regulation board is informed about tonight, your membership will be revoked.”

I release the man with a push, and as soon as I do, he straightens, runs a hand through his hair to smooth it, and walks the fuck away.

Tatum watches him as he goes, looking a little shaken but otherwise unharmed. Rylan takes her by the shoulders and walks her toward a restroom. I silently follow behind in case the drunk decides to show his face again. The two girls disappear into the restroom while I look like a creep held up outside the door. They are in there for way too long, doing whatever girls do in a restroom together, but when they come back out, Tatum seems to be okay.

“What should we do next?” Rylan looks to Tatum.

I speak up instead, “Why don’t we go grab a drink? There are easily a dozen bars just outside this casino.”

“Good idea,” Rylan agrees.

“Guys like that one give the rest of us assholes a bad name. Don’t listen to him. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tatum smiles at me, but before she can respond, I walk ahead of them. Moment over.

When we get to a bar, Tatum takes the barstool next to me while Rylan excuses herself to the restroom. I guess girls in pairs don’t actually do their business when they use the place as a conference area.

“Thank you,” Tatum says without looking at me.

“Don’t mention it.” I also keep my eyes forward.

“Maybe I was too harsh and judged you too quickly. I don’t want to be that person.” She turns at the waist to better look at me.

“You weren’t. You didn’t. And you should be that person when it comes to me.” I keep my sight straight ahead.

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