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The iron nugget of doubt dropping anchor in his stomach was something to be ignored, just like he'd done every night since the fight. But instead of dissolving, it grew along with the frustration and rage already swirling through him. Unsure of what to do, he fell back to instinct and let the fighter he was at his core take over, striking with the viciousness that had made him millions and left other men broken and bleeding.
"You don't even know for sure that the Davies-Smythes have her. All you have to go on is your gut and a blurry Instagram photo of some artwork. And if by some miracle she is there and we manage to get her out, what are you going to do after that?" He gave his anger free rein to turn the statement into a twisted, snarly mass of mocking disgust. "Are you going to start your own private investigation company like the MacKenzies to help out all the underdogs out there? Are you going to become the avenging fairy godmother to the poor masses out there, saving them from their shitty lives? How fucking generous of a pampered rich princess like you."
"You can call me whatever you want." She jerked her chin up. "It doesn't matter because that's exactly what I'm going to do."
All it took was one look at her wide brown eyes to see the bitter surprise and know he'd hit her right in the softest, most vulnerable spot. That was it. That was her secret plan. That's why she'd shown up at his gym and had worked her ass off for the past six months. That's why she'd shown up at the Bisu Manor determined to find a woman she hadn't spoken to in years.
"That's crazy," he muttered.
"Oh really?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze. "Care to explain why?"
"Gladly," he said, inwardly wincing at the cold cruelty in his voice even as he couldn't stop it. She needed to hear the truth. Reality was a bitch that way. "It's crazy because, Kitten, you aren't trained, you don't have any experience, and you don't have the first clue about what it takes to do the job."
"Bullshit. I'm not there yet, but I've been training—with you, with arms experts, with the fucking MacKenzies. In a few months I'll have my license," she said, her voice deadly calm in a way that only women who had been pushed too far had. "I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I owe it to them."
That stopped him. "You owe who?"
"What's it matter to you?" She shrugged and turned away, but not before he caught the angry hurt in her eyes. "You don't believe in helping people, remember?"
And he thought he was the one with the killer emotional jab. She'd only flung his own words back in his face, but it sounded different when she said it with more than a hint of quashed hope. Unable to stop himself and not knowing what to say, he let his body do the talking. He grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face him.
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The betrayal written all over her face said it all.
Bianca pulled out of his light grasp and walked away. Her dismissal was made even worse because of the loft's open design. He couldn't help but watch as she strode across to the couch, wrapped a blanket around her lithe form, and laid down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Coffee and residual anger killed the hunger that usually had Bianca's stomach growling by daybreak. So instead of reaching for a bagel, she poured a third helping into the mug shaped like a boxing glove. If she didn't need him to get into Bisu Manor this morning, she sure as hell wouldn't be standing in the middle of Taz's home, dressed in the soft cotton T-shirt that still managed to smell like him even after she'd slept in it. She watched the closed bathroom door which he'd disappeared behind twenty minutes ago right before she heard the shower turn on.
Taz emerged from the bathroom dressed in jeans and a crisp white button-up that contrasted with his inky hair and light brown skin. He smelled of cotton, soap, and all the good things that came with muscles, testosterone, and confidence. It was almost enough to make a girl see him as the man he could be instead of the guy he'd convinced himself he was. Not that it made a difference. He couldn't have been more clear about how he saw his place in the world if he wore a neon sign.
Too distracted to pay attention, she added a heaping spoonful of sugar to the coffee she always drank black. Shit. It wasn't fair that he always affected her like this. Some girls had no luck.
He stopped a foot from her and dragged his fingers through his still damp hair, exposing the worry creasing his forehead. "About last night..."
"Let's just forget it, okay?" She sipped the coffee, trying not to gag on the bitter regret lingering on her tongue.
His jaw tightened. "Bianca—"
"Look, we want different things." She sucked in a deep breath, keeping her gaze locked on the spot just to the left of Taz's head. Looking him head-on wasn't an option, not if she didn't want to make a total ass of herself and let loose with the tears she'd been fighting all night. She shouldn't be hurt. She didn't really know him well enough for that but the truth was, she couldn't help it—and if that wasn't just the sign she needed to get away from him as soon as this morning's appointment was over then she didn't know what was. "I appreciate that you're going through with the meeting this morning with the Davies-Smythes, but let's just leave it at that. It was probably just the residual affect of the drug, nothing to worry about."
The lie tasted worse than the disappointment of his words.
He opened his mouth, but the bing announcing the elevator's impending arrival stopped whatever was about to come out. Bianca sent up a quick prayer of gratitude to whoever was manning the line this morning.
The elevator doors parted and Vivi and Keir strolled into the living area. Vivi held a black duffel bag and made a beeline right for her.
"I brought you something to wear from your apartment so you didn't have to go to Bisu Manor in stud boy's workout gear," she said, her neutral tone doing a lot more to cover her curiosity than the look in her dark eyes as they bounced between Taz and Bianca.
She crossed over to the newcomers, glad that Vivi had been thinking ahead even as all she could think about was Taz. "How'd you get into my condo?"
Vivi winked at her. "It's amazing what a badge can do for a girl, even if it's only for a few more months."
"What do you mean by a few months?" Taz asked.
"Doesn't matter." She held out a duffel bag. "Go change and I'll go over the plan as soon as you get back."
Wanting to follow up on Taz's question, but knowing now wasn't the right time, Bianca took the bag without comment and made her way into the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her meant trapping her inside the room with all of the manly smells and mental images of Taz naked in the shower. It was miserable bliss. All she wanted to do was wallow in it, but she couldn't let that happen. There were more important things in life than her own heart breaking because she wanted a man who could never be a part of her life, not the new life she was building. Suck it up, buttercup. Taking her own advice, she blinked back tears and got dressed.
