Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
SAGE
The jig was up.
Fortunately, that meant I didn’t have to kiss the disgusting excuse for a man, and with Hunter and Xander just downstairs, I wasn’t worried about being busted. So I shook off the persona I’d worn all night and gave this jackass the real Sage.
“Yeah, they are, dickless,” I sneered while pointing to the tiny cam pinned to my dress. “They’re watching too, so smile for the camera.”
“You stupid cunt! You’ll pay for this,” he shouted, his face going so red it looked nearly purple.
I heard the thundering of footsteps running down the hall and knew my guys were close, but Steve managed to catch me by surprise and backhanded me before I had a chance to dodge the blow.
The hit was hard enough to make me stagger and send fire shooting through my cheekbone. It was also enough to piss me the fuck off.
He moved like he was going in for a second smack, but this time I was prepared.
Before he had a chance to raise his arm, mine was already cocked, and as soon as he was close enough, I let it fly, landing a satisfying jab right to his face.
Blood instantly began pouring from his broken nose, distracting him long enough for me to get my next blow in, which was a perfectly placed kick to his balls with the pointy toe of my awesome sandals.
He went down with a bellow just as the door to the room came crashing open and two huge, burly men came running through.
“Don’t worry,” I started, holding up my hands. “I’ve got everything under control.”
Xander shocked the hell out of me by rushing right to me and taking my face in his hands, bending low to meet my gaze head-on. “Fuckin’ hell. Are you okay?”
Sparks ignited beneath my skin that had nothing to do with the slap I’d just received and everything to do with this fine hunk of man currently touching me. “Uh . . . yeah. I-I’m fine.”
A low, agonized groan sounded through the room, drawing the guys’ attention to Not-Steve’s writhing body before turning shocked eyes to me.
“What the hell happened?” Hunter clipped.
I gave them a shrug, ignoring the burning in my cheek. “He hit me, so I hit back. And I hit a lot harder.”
The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted, the air growing icy cold, and when I looked to Xander I saw the shift in temperature was coming from him. “That fucker hit you?” he growled, his expression murderous.
“It’s fine, really,” I said, trying to calm the brewing storm. “He hits like a bitch anyway.”
That did absolutely nothing to calm his rage. “That fucker hit you?”
He moved like a flash, jerking Not-Steve up from the floor by his neck. “You like hittin’ women, motherfucker?” he hissed in the guy’s bloody face. “Think that makes you a man?”
I rushed to Xander’s side, grabbing hold of his massive bicep with both hands. “Xander, really. I’m okay.”
“Stand down, brother,” Hunter spoke, much less frantic than I was. “Guy’s already bleedin’ all over the expensive ass carpet. No point in addin’ to it.”
Xander didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned even closer. So close, Not-Steve’s eyes bugged out in fear. “You don’t ever take your hands to a woman, asshole. Especially not to that woman. You understand me?”
The guy nodded manically. “Y-yes, I u-understand.”
“Now you apologize for bein’ a piece of shit, or I’m gonna rip your goddamn spine out.”
He sputtered and clawed at Xander’s tightening hand, but managed to push out, “I-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! I’m a piece of shit!” Then he promptly burst into tears.
I looked from the pathetic man to Hunter and asked, “You got everything you need?”
“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” he said with a big grin. “And then some. This dude’s fucked.”
Moving in closer to Xander, I pressed against his side and gave his arm a squeeze as I lowered my voice to what I hoped was a calming whisper. “Hey, let’s go, yeah? This guy’s not worth it. And I promise, I’m all right.”
He jutted his head in my direction, and for the first time, the mask he kept in place so well wasn’t there to hide the pain in his eyes.
It ran deep and was so strong it made me suck in a breath.
I didn’t know what this big, beautiful man had been through, but whatever it was, it had been pure torture, because he was still living with its demons.
“I want to go home,” I continued, fighting past the lump in my throat. “Please, can we go home now?”
My plea managed to break through whatever darkness was clouding his mind, and he gave me a small nod, tossing Not-Steve across the room like a ragdoll.
Then he shocked me again by taking my hand, grabbing the gorgeous gold clutch I got at Glitter and Gold to go with my dress, and starting out of the hotel room.
With one glance over his shoulder to Hunter, he said, “I’m drivin’ Sage home. ”
“Wait. What about my stuff?”
“I’ll pack everything up downstairs and get it back to the office,” Hunter told me. “I’ll leave your duffle in your office.”
Apparently, that was that, because Xander was on the move once again. “Bye,” I called back to Hunter as Xander dragged me out of the room and down the hall. “See you tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow, sweetheart.”
That was the last I saw of Hunter as I was pulled down the hall and into the elevator.
“Where’d you park?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly.
“Um . . . s-second level.”
Xander hit the button marked P2, and we started our ride down. I tried once to pull my hand from his, knowing I needed to break the physical connection for the sake of my own sanity, but his fingers tightened around mine, refusing to let go.
The heat of his palm warmed my entire body and made me shiver at the same time.
For three weeks I’d been telling myself I hated this man, that there wasn’t one redeemable quality about him, and for three freaking weeks, my body hadn’t given one single shit.
It still wanted to climb him like a mountain.
It was as if our arguments and dirty looks were some twisted kind of foreplay. As messed up as it was, I got off on going toe-to-toe with him and mashing at his buttons just to see what made him tick. As much as I despised him, almost everything about him turned me on.
So having him rush to me in the room earlier, worry for me clouding his features, made my heart stutter, and the feel of his hand holding mine firmly nearly did my head in.
The doors slid open and I started out, leading the way to where I’d parked my Mustang.
“Keys,” he clipped, coming to a stop at the driver side door.
“Um . . .” My gaze darted to my purse, still in his free hand. “In there.”
He somehow managed to dig through my bag without releasing my hand, unearthing my keys before tossing the gold clutch my way. I caught it and reached out to take the keys, only to have him pull his arm back. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” I returned.
“I’m driving.”
“Pfft, like hell you are. No one drives my baby but me.”
“I’m riding in a car, I’m driving it. End of story.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. “Wow, that was one hell of a story, but it doesn’t change anything. You aren’t driving my car.”
“I am if you wanna get home.”
“Okay, so maybe you aren’t hearing me. Let me spell this out for you, big boy.
No one . . . but no one drives my baby but me.
Ever. So give me the keys, because you’re getting behind the wheel of my ride over my cold .
. . dead . . . body.” Something passed over his face just then, a look so heady it stole the air from my lungs and made my knees weak as he moved toward me, coming so close I was forced back until I ran into the side of my car.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I stuttered as the woodsy, spicy scent of his cologne made my head foggy.
His voice was low and ragged, like he’d just gargled with rocks, as he said, “I had to sit in a room and watch as that piece of shit put his filthy fuckin’ hands all over you.
I witnessed you lose your shit at the thought of havin’ to kiss him.
Then the motherfucker hit you. You’re still ridin’ an adrenaline high, Shortcake, so your pain isn’t registering yet, but you’ve already got a goddamn bruise forming on your cheek.
I’m holdin’ on by a very thin thread here, so I’m askin’, stop giving me shit about driving your car so I can get you home and get some ice on your face, or I swear to Christ, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind. ”
“I—okay.”
A flash of surprise registered across his face at my quick submission before he shook it off. “Thanks.”
He took a step back, and I shuffled around the back of the car. The doors were unlocked by the time I reached the other side, so I quickly climbed in and buckled up, my mind reeling the entire time.
He climbed behind the wheel and started my baby up, and I had to admit—somewhat begrudgingly—he looked really good there.
Almost as good as he looked on his bike.
Of course the seat had to be adjusted way back, and he screwed with my mirrors—something that would be a pain in the ass to fix tomorrow—but still, it was hot.
The first several minutes on the ride from Richmond to Hope Valley were made in complete silence. The air in the cab of the car was so thick with tension you could have cut it with a knife.
After twenty minutes, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I hadn’t been this quiet or still in my life.
Even in my sleep, I moved and talked, or at least that’s what a few of my exes told me.
In fact, John hated it so much, he’d actually moved out of our bedroom not long after we’d married.
Then again, that was when everything else in our relationship started to turn sour as well.
As soon as we said our vows, his true colors bled to the surface.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked, breaking through the oppressive silence.
“No,” Xander grunted.
“You sure?”
He blew out a frustrated breath and clipped, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Well, you sure as hell sound mad.”