“Ames.” His voice hitched, like he was on the verge of tears. “I wish you could see how sorry I am.”
I smiled sadly. “I wish I could too.”
A valet chose that awful moment to walk up to the door and knock. Cursing, Ax opened the door and gave him the keys. “Try not to scratch it.”
I got out of the car and waited.
The valet’s eyes bugged open. “Um, sir… you can’t… I mean…” He shook his head. “You can’t take prostitutes into the hotel.”
Ax froze. His face going from someone I recognized to a complete stranger as he slowly turned around and grabbed the guy by the throat. With a heave he shoved him back towards the cement pillar and then punched him in the stomach. “She’s not a prostitute, you bastard.”
“My mistake.” The guy doubled over, his breaths coming out in short gasps. “Apologies, I’m so sorry—”
“Sorry?” Ax repeated then punched him in the stomach again. “Don’t apologize to me, ass**le, apologize to her.”
He lifted the guy up by his shirt and dragged him over to me.
Shocked, I could only stare as the guy trembled in Ax’s grip. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry for my error, please forgive me.” Ax squeezed the guy’s neck. “It was a horrible, mistake.” His voice came out hoarse as Ax continued putting pressure on his windpipe.
Ax nodded to me.
“It’s um, it’s fine.” I said in a cheerful voice so the guy didn’t report us to the cops or anything. It wasn’t like we were in Chicago; they would call the cops here. Then again maybe the Abandonatos were famous everywhere, it wasn’t like I really kept track of mafia dealings.
“Remember,” Ax whispered to the guy. “No scratches.”
The guy collapsed onto the pavement clutching his stomach as Ax ushered me inside the huge building. It was the most expensive hotel in town — I only knew because I’d tried to get a job bartending only to find out that they only hired people who’d gone to actual bartending school. Yeah, I didn’t fit that profile at all.
“Wait here.” Ax motioned for me to sit on the couch while he went to the front desk and checked in.
Minutes later he returned with one of the hotel employees. Ax wrapped a possessive arm around my shoulder and led me to a dark hallway where a single elevator was located.
“Just let me know if you need anything else, Mr. Abandonato. The only guests who can use this key are ones staying on the penthouse level.” She handed him the key card, didn’t make eye contact with me at all, and walked off down the marble hallway.
Too busy gawking, I didn’t even notice the elevator had opened until I almost tripped as Ax pulled me inside. In a whoosh it took off, within seconds opening up on the top floor where only two doors were located.
Ax swiped the card again and opened one of the doors, stepping back so I could enter the room first.
It was huge.
Not just, oh wow, this is a big hotel room, but it was massive, like its own apartment. It had a full-sized kitchen with granite countertops on the right, a long hallway that led to what I’m guessing were multiple bedrooms, and a beautiful view of the river.
“Now—” Ax put the card on the table and reached for the phone— “We feed you.”
My stomach grumbled on command.
“Go take a bath.” He nodded towards the hallway. “I’ll order you some food, but you probably want to relax for a bit.”
“Are you going to be barging in and waving your gun?” I asked. “Or beating any more hotel employees up?”
“If you stay dressed like that?” He eyed me slowly up and down. “Yes. Now, go.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Axton
THE SLAM OF THE bathroom door gave immediate relief. Muscles I wasn’t even aware I’d been flexing, relaxed as I slumped against the countertop. I was less than half a day in and I was already strung so tight that even alcohol wouldn’t bring me down.
It was the outfit.
And the braid.
Maybe even the legs.
Hell, who was I kidding, it was everything.
I gripped my cell in my hand and punched in a quick text to Nixon.
Me: Safe, at hotel, her room was destroyed.
Nixon: Did you find it?
Me: What is it?
Nixon: You’ll know when you see it.
Me: Vague, thanks.
Nixon: Just get her to Chicago, that’s all you need to worry about.
With a grimace I set the phone away from me and leaned against the counter, half tempted to bang my head against the granite just to see if it would knock any sense into my brain. Then again, it wasn’t my brain having issues but every other cell in my body. It was like I had lost complete control over my hands, my damn heartbeat, my breathing — everything was fixed on her and her alone. Which made doing my job without getting emotionally attached, damn near impossible.
Clothes. I needed to get her some clothes, preferably a turtleneck and a pair of sweats, maybe a floppy hat, some sunglasses.
Not that it would help, but one could always hope.
“Aaaaagh!” A scream erupted from the bathroom. Gripping my gun I ran down the hallway and burst through the door, hand raised, ready to shoot anyone who dared touch her.
Amy was lying in the giant bath tub, bubbles surrounding her body making it impossible for me to see her completely naked but giving me the suggestion that it was my loss I couldn’t.
“What’s wrong?” I lowered the gun, my heart rate finally returning to normal. “I thought someone was attacking you.”
Amy blushed, the pink color traveled down her neck to her chest, where my eyes stayed for longer than they should have.
“A bad dream.” She shook her head, pieces of wet hair stuck to her chin and cheeks. I had to bite my lip to keep from telling her how beautiful she looked and how badly I wanted to kiss her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how tired I was, I laid down and closed my eyes and then—”
With a sigh I glanced away — not because I was trying to be polite but because I was tilted on my own axis, a stranger in my own body, unable to actually look at her and speak at the same time. “Do you want me to stay in here?”
“No!” She lurched forward as if to stop me from staying. Water lapped over the edges of the bathtub.
Bubbles moved around her.
And I stared like a man who’d never seen water before.
One bubble remained near her chest.
I stared it down. Willed it to move to the right, the left, or to disappear altogether, and when that didn’t work I argued with it in my head, alternating between telling it why it shouldn’t exist and why it should.