Chapter Eighteen
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T ristan turned, stood when he saw Schumacher and friend coming their way. “We’re gonna head to the bar for a few drinks. Why don’t you join us?” Schumacher said, his eyes on Cassie.
“We can’t,” she said. “We’re on the clock.”
“Oh, come on, I won’t tell. Who’s gonna target me here?” He looked around the half-empty restaurant.
She gave him a tight smile, and Tristan could easily picture her giving a suspect that same look when she’d been a cop. “Those are the rules.”
“Rules were meant to be broken, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
“Not these ones.”
“Fine, then, you can sit and watch us drink.” He went to put his arm around her and lead her away. She sidestepped him and gestured for him to go first. “After you, sir.”
Schumacher tossed her a smirk over his shoulder. “I like it when you call me that.”
Tristan went to step between them, but she held him off with an upraised palm and fell in line behind Schumacher. Asshole .
The bar was surprisingly busy. Schumacher and friend took a booth off to the side and kept a steady flow of drinks coming to the table. Tristan and Cassie sat at a different booth watching them.
“Never seen anyone drink like that outside of Vegas,” she murmured nearly an hour later, taking a sip of her water through a red and white-striped straw.
“Me neither.” He’d lost count of how many drinks their client had finished.
She looked at him in surprise. “You’ve been to Vegas?”
“Once, for a buddy’s bachelor party while we were stateside on leave.”
“And how’d it go?”
“He got so wasted he barely made it to the ceremony the next morning. They broke up four months later while we were deployed.”
She winced. “Ouch.”
He shrugged. “He’s better off. We all saw it coming.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Did you? And did you say anything before he married her?”
“Yeah, back when he was talking about proposing.”
“Damn, I wish I’d had a friend like you to stop me from making all my relationship mistakes. Would’ve saved me a lot of suffering.”
He opened his mouth to ask what she meant by that, but she straightened and started to stand. Tristan got up, and after watching Schumacher take two steps, could see the guy was wasted. “I’ll take him up.” No way he was letting him anywhere near Cassie right now.
He stepped toward him before Cassie could move. “Ready to call it a night?”
Bleary blue eyes focused on him for a moment, then slid to Cassie. And any pretense of politeness he might have had before was long gone. His gaze raked over her in an overtly sexual way, practically stripping her naked. “I want her to take me up.”
Not fucking happening. “I’m taking you up.”
Schumacher’s eyebrows snapped together. “No. I want her to—”
“I was hoping she could drive me to my hotel,” his friend said, shooting her and Tristan an apologetic look and trying to give her an easy way out. “If that’s okay.”
Schumacher wove on his feet for a second, blinking at him. “I...yeah, okay. Yeah. She’s the best, right? The best driver they’ve got.” He looked at Cassie, gave her a drunken smile that he probably thought oozed charm and charisma. “You mind?”
“Not at all.” She aimed a polite smile at his friend. “Right this way.” She shot a brief look at Tristan.
“Text me once you’re back,” he said, respecting what Schumacher’s friend had done.
She nodded and walked out of the bar with the other man.
“Man, she’s a total fuckin’ smoke show,” Schumacher slurred. “How do you work with her and not be turned on all—”
“This way.” Tristan spun him around, marched him to the elevator, and tried to keep the anger from showing on his face on the way up to the top floor. With a firm grip on Schumacher’s upper arm, he steered him down the hall and into his room, had to walk him over to the bed.
Schumacher practically sprawled across it on his face. Mentally rolling his eyes, Tristan took off his shoes and peeled off his tie before it strangled him, then turned him onto his side. If he puked in the middle of the night, at least he wouldn’t aspirate in this position.
For a moment he wondered if he should stay put to make sure Schumacher didn’t wind up choking on his own vomit, then dismissed it. Playing babysitter and mother wasn’t part of the job. “I’ll be across the hall. Text if you need anything.” But he hoped he wouldn’t.
Schumacher grunted something but didn’t stir. Tristan left the bathroom light on and went to his own room. After changing into a T-shirt and jeans he stood by the window, staring down at the lights of the city until his phone chimed with a message from Cassie.
Just parked. On my way up now. He in his room?
Left him passed out on his bed twenty minutes ago.
Nope. He’s been texting me.
He frowned, not liking the direction this was taking. Texting you about what?
You don’t wanna know.
Jesus Christ. Yeah, he did wanna know. And then he would handle it himself. What did he say?
I’ll handle it.
Not alone, she wouldn’t.
He stepped out into the hall, waited until she came out of the elevator. She didn’t look upset, but then, she wouldn’t show it even if she were. His anger rose again. After all she’d been through lately, the last thing she needed was a piece of shit like Schumacher coming onto her.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, apparently sensing his mood. “I got this.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before Schumacher’s door opened, and he appeared wearing just his underwear. He seemed surprised to find Tristan standing there, but then his gaze shot to Cassie. “You got my messages.”
Yeah, fuck this.
Tristan stalked forward and planted a hand in the middle of Schumacher’s bony chest. “That’s enough. Go back inside and go to bed.”
Schumacher wove on his feet, glared up at him. “You can’t order me around—”
“Now.” He gave him a little shove. Way lighter than he wanted to.
Schumacher stumbled back a step and caught himself. His face hardened. Looked for a moment like he was thinking about coming at him.
Tristan mentally dared him. Bring it, asshole. Come at me.
“I’m reporting this to your boss,” Schumacher threatened.
Tristan didn’t give a fuck what he reported as long as he left Cassie alone. “Go to bed. Now, before I put you in it.” It was like talking to a drunk frat boy.
Schumacher gave him one last sneer and slammed the door in his face. Satisfaction slid through him when he heard the bolt shoot home and the chain slide into place for good measure.
Exhaling, anger receding, he turned around. Cassie was leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded across the front of her leather jacket. “I said I would handle it.” Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the silent hallway.
“It should never have gotten to this point. You should have—”
Her humorless laugh cut him off. “Don’t tell me what I should’ve done. I’ve dealt with that kind of shit my whole career. I was a cop, remember? You think I can’t handle a drunk guy making unwanted advances?”
Of course he knew that.
The urge to protect her made it feel like his ribcage was too tight. “I know you can, but the point is, you don’t have to handle it yourself. Not anymore.” Not with him here, or any of the other CPS agents for that matter. Every single one of them would have intervened on her behalf.
Her expression and tone softened. “While I appreciate the sentiment...with a guy like that? Ignoring his behavior and playing nice is the best way to handle it, and I’ve got his texts if he does try to file a complaint.
I would have gotten the same result as you, but without the threat of reporting us. ”
She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue.
“I’m not mad at you. I appreciate that you have my back.
Truly, it means a lot. But it’s been a long day on top of a shit week for me, and I’m going to bed.
See you in the morning.” She entered her room and shut the door before he could say anything else.
Standing there alone in the hallway, Tristan clenched his jaw, berating himself. Shit. He could have handled that a lot better, and this unprecedented mix of territoriality and protectiveness wasn’t a good enough reason for his behavior.
He went into his own room, took a hot shower, and then stretched out on his bed, thinking about her in the darkness as sleep evaded him. Thinking about her lying in her own bed on the other side of the wall between their rooms.
Thinking about how he’d give just about anything for the chance to be in there with her.