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Simon dropped his wallet and phone on the nightstand and turned back to Margo, who’d moved to the far side of the room. She stared out the window, holding her arms tightly against herself.
“I’m sorry I took off,” he said finally when it became clear she wouldn’t speak. He didn’t expect her to. He just didn’t know what to say.
How to begin to explain.
“When did you leave?” Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. Another way she was holding herself back.
He would’ve preferred it if she screamed. That would’ve given him a chance to let his own anger have free rein. But she was too controlled for that.
“Shortly after you fell asleep.” He scraped a hand through his hair, then cursed at the automatic gesture and stared down at his battered knuckles. “I found his address online.”
“And you went off without security. All alone, in a foreign country in the middle of the night to meet someone who could’ve been drawing you out for nefarious purposes.”
“Oh, he was, but it wasn’t to rob or kill me. At least not that blatantly.” Simon released a harsh laugh. “He might want to rob me, but he’s not a pickpocket.”
“Not according to what Li found. He has some priors on his record for just that. And fighting,
which I can see clearly from your face.”
“The rest of me is about the same. Jesus. You know how long it’s been since I’ve been in a fight like that? Last time was probably with Nicky, and that was years ago.”
“He’d pull his punches at least.”
“You think?” Simon laughed again, shaking his head. “Neither of us did. The whole point was making it hurt.”
“Sorry for assuming you’d be intelligent enough to pull them.” She turned to face him. “So now what? Am I supposed to play the little woman and dab your cuts and coo that he probably looks worse?”
“He does.” He wasn’t sure of that at all, but whatever. She hadn’t been there, and that fib was the least of his current issues.
“Good job.” The sarcasm in her tone wasn’t lost on him. “Did you miss the part where you acted like a complete jackass by charging out of here in the middle of the night without protection?”
“Oh, I had protection. I still keep my old lucky condom as a relic from the past. But Ian wasn’t looking for that kind of action.”
She wasn’t amused by his lame attempt at humor. Truth be told, neither was he.
He was a goddamn jackass.
“So if I go off in the middle of the night without leaving a note, you’ll be okay with that, right?”
“No.” He worked his jaw. That ached too, for fuck’s sake. Far too much of him did. “It’s not the same.”
“Oh, really? Why is that? Because I’m female? Did someone forget to inform me that as a male, you’re incapable of being injured…or killed?” Her voice broke on the last word.
“Dammit, Violin Girl, I wasn’t thinking.” He started to go to her, but she threw up a hand to ward him off.
“You weren’t thinking, but I’ve had plenty of time to do nothing but for the last few hours. And then you send me a six-word text as if that’ll make me feel better. Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Just a second.”
He heaved out a breath and shut his eyes. He didn’t want to switch places, because he wouldn’t have been nearly so calm. The room would’ve been trashed and he would have raged at the universe that if anything happened to her, he would fucking burn the world down.
Instead, she was watching him with ravaged dark eyes, and it was worse than a million hurled insults.
“I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.”
“No. There isn’t.” She turned away from him, and panic spurted in his chest, extinguishing even the shame.
“Violin Girl.” This time, he did go to her, and she braced as he laid his hands on her shoulders.
She was shaking.
