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“I was distracted last night. If I’d been doing my job, that shit wouldn’t have happened.”
“Tate, I told you, it’s not your fault.”
“It is when I’m here to do a job. I fucked up. I can’t and won’t allow that to happen again.”
I try to sit up straighter and wince at the tightness in my shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His expression goes blank. “Whatever this is, it’s done.”
I shudder at his words. “Whatever this is,” I repeat, as if we’re nothing of substance. Nothing that deserves a title. Just nothing. “So, you’re… what? Quitting? Or just quitting me?”
Anger builds at his lack of emotion or reaction. “I’ll stay on until you’re safe and this is over. But I’m here to protect you—nothing more.”
My hands clench at my sides. My throat swells. I feel hurt. Angry. I want to yell at him for being such a coward. For denying what’s happening between us. I want to yell at myself for allowing him in and letting myself feel something. I breathe deep and nod, fighting back angry tears. “You’re right. We should’ve never crossed the line. It wasn’t worth it in the first place.” He opens his mouth, but I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. “Honestly, thanks for sparing me from the disaster we were headed toward. Unless you still need to babysit me, you can leave. I’ll call Fay to come get me.”
“You rang?” We both draw our attention to the door. Fay walks in, and I barely hold it together. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she says, slowing before she reaches my bed, no doubt feeling the tension in the room.
Tate’s phone rings, and he moves toward the door, heading into the hall. “Excuse me.”
“Everything okay? Minus the whole almost blowing up thing. Shit, I’m sorry—Mindy, don’t cry. I was just trying to make light of the situation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh my god, don’t be sorry.I’msorry! I don’t know why I just joked about that. I thought—”
“No, it’s fine. Being almost blown up gives me total street cred. I’m pumped at all the attention I’m gonna get on my social media pages.”
Fay shakes her head. “Mindy, Theo’s beside himself. He’s on a rampage for answers. I lost count of how many times he threatened Craig’s life since it was his system. He feels at blame here.”
“Fay, stop. He’s not. I just want to get out of here and go home.”
Fay’s kind smile falters, and I’m rewarded with her sad eyes. “Honey, your kitchen is a pile of rubble.”
“It’s fine. I don’t cook much anyway. As long as my TV’s still intact—oh, no! My poor couch! Did it make it?” I love my couch.
“Couch is fine. I think. But Tate is going to have to—”
“No more Tate.”
Her brows rise. “What? Why? I thought you two—”
“We were a thing for like five seconds. I’ve decided he’s not my type. I’m not even attracted to him. Who knows what I was thinking. He grosses me out.” I don’t know when Tate reenters the room, but if he heard anything, his face doesn’t show it.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Can you take me home? Or somewhere? Harry will probably let me—”
“For the time being, we’re going to put you up at the Plaza Hotel.”
I turn my eyes to Tate. “No. I’m good. Like I was saying, I’m sure Harry will let me—”
“They’re working on your discharge papers now,” Tate says, cutting me off again. “Once you’re released, we’re stopping by your apartment to grab anything you’ll need for the next few days, then heading to the hotel. We’re staying in the penthouse suite so we can monitor anyone who steps foot on that floor.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“No. I can stay there alone.”
“I’ll be with you.”
