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I almost felt sor
ry for them.
Rolling my shoulders back, I went to room 1014 and knocked. There was a slight pause, then it swept open and Bryce stood on the other side.
His eyes narrowed, seeing the mask on my face, and he nodded. He knew. He understood what was going to go down, and with that movement, I knew he would stand by my side. No wishy-washy bullshit this time.
“Bryce?”
I heard her voice from farther inside the room. Bryce and I were standing in a small hallway. He said to me, “You ready? It’s just the two of them.”
I nodded and started for where the bedroom was.
He was right behind me.
As we passed the bathroom, the door opened and a different voice asked, this one sharper, “What the hell is going on?”
It was her assistant. What was her name? I stopped and turned my icy stare on her instead. She was the one rumored to have cut the brakes. I couldn’t remember her name.
I sneered at her, looking her up and down. “I can see how you were able to slip under the car.”
For a moment, I saw the guilt there. It appeared for a split second, then it was replaced with her own icy look back at me. She asked, with gritted teeth, “What are you talking about?”
I stepped toward her. Her straight, black hair had been pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck and head. She was thinner and shorter than I was. Funny. I didn’t remember her being this tiny. Then I continued sneering at her. It was probably because her crazy overcompensated for her height.
“You’re nice and tiny. You must’ve fit under my car just fine, you know, when you cut my brakes.”
I watched her. I wanted to know if she’d react, show anything, but she didn’t. Her face was a porcelain mask of nothingness. There wasn’t even a flicker of her eyelids. The only reaction she gave was a smug grin, but that formed as she delivered, with acid dripping from her voice, “Sorry, but no. My condolences to your friend that drove it instead of you. I’m sure you pissed off whoever had cut the brakes.”
There was nothing wrong with her statement, but there was everything wrong with it. The undertones were screaming at me loud and clear. Too bad it was your friend, not you. That’s what she meant.
I hissed and went for her.
“Hey.” Bryce intercepted me, stepping in front of me.
I pushed forward, pressing against him, but he held firm and his hand reached behind, resting on my hip to keep me firmly in check.
I growled. “Let me at her,” I snapped at her. “You put my friend in the hospital.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits at my words. I wanted her to hear those words. I wanted her to hear the violence there.
“That’s too bad.” She lifted her lip in a sneer. “Really.”
Too bad for Corrigan, too bad he ended up in the hospital. I could hear her taunting tone on repeat in my head—that was her message. Yes, too bad. Too bad for her when I would lunge for her and claim that I was only reaching for the phone behind her. Oops. My hand slipped and punched her in the face, but I was really only trying to call the front desk.
Oh yes. My own thoughts were sarcastic. Somehow, that made perfect sense in my mind, but I was seeing red. I wanted at her. “I’m going to hurt you.”
“Bring it.” She never faltered or reared back. Her gaze held mine steadily, and I knew it was her. If there’d been any doubt, there was none now. This bitch put Corrigan in the hospital.
I was going to return the favor.
A new wave of fury surged in me, and I tried to slip around Bryce, but he checked me again.
Then I saw her reaction.
Bryce turned so he was facing me. Both of his hands were on my hips, holding me back, and the same disapproving look she had given me at the hospital appeared again. Her eyes flickered, showing some anger, and her lips pressed together, then curved down at the corners. The lines in her forehead strained as well.
I grinned. She hated that I was touching Bryce. “You don’t like this, huh?”
