Burn: A South Beach Bodyguards Book (22 page)

For the first time ever I understood where my mother was coming from. Leave them before they leave you.

That made me so furious that I let out all my pent-up frustration by reaching out and punching the wall, right next to my Dan Marino poster. My fist collided with the plaster and pain shot through my hand, wrist, and right on up my arm. It felt good, satisfying, well-deserved.

I gave the wall a left hook too, so hard that I knew without a doubt I’d broken my index finger. It started swelling immediately and breathing hard, I laid down on Isabel’s bed. Staring at the ceiling, throbbing hands in my lap, I pulled out my phone, thought about texting her.

Nope. That was a move for a selfish guy. I wasn’t going to do that to her. What I needed to do was suggest to Kim that they both move somewhere that had nothing to do with Mickey and then I was going to cut off ties with Isabel so she could live her life without fear of a random stranger, or me, hurting her.

How did I feel about that? I kicked my boot heel into the wall, enjoying the crunching sound it made.

That’s how I felt. Angry and destructive.

I
waited for Ryan to text me or call or best of all, come and visit me. But he didn’t. Not that night, while I was bruised and still scared. Not the next day, when I comfortably ensconced on the sofa in the living room of Mickey’s condo, staring out at the ocean through his wall-to-wall glass windows. There was nothing broken on me. Except for my heart. I felt morose and idiotic even thinking that but it was the truth.

It was also my fault.

I had ignored all the red flags and allowed myself to wish for more from Ryan, even after he expressly told me he had nothing else to offer. My mom had tried to warn me and I had ignored her. So I had to accept responsibility for my insistence on going forward with an involvement with Ryan. I thought I could handle the casual and I couldn’t. Not with him.

“Honey, I’m worried about you,” my mom said. She sat down on the sofa next to my waist and leaned over and brushed hair off my forehead. “You haven’t even eaten.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m just not hungry.” In fact, I felt kind of perpetually nauseous. “Please don’t hover.”

“I can’t help it.” She adjusted my blanket. “We can’t go back to that house, you know. Mickey said he’s going to put it up for sale. I want you to stay here with us.”

I studied her face. “Are you back together?”

“We’re talking.” My mother, bless her heart, actually blushed. “We always did have fun.”

“That’s great.” I meant it. I had thought it was dumb when they broke up. It had just seemed like they had thrown up roadblocks to their relationship that didn’t need to be there. “But I don’t want to live with you guys any longer than necessary. Honestly, I think it’s time for me to get an apartment on my own or live with Brandy or something.”

It wasn’t something I’d given a lot of thought to. Living with my mother had been convenient and cost-effective but I was almost twenty-two and I had never been on my own. Part of me wondered if my growth had been a little stunted. I’d never been broke, never dated a whole lot, never fucked up so egregiously you wondered if you could recover.

Until now.

This was a Grade A fuck up.

I might recover but it was going to take some time.

I also sincerely hoped Juan Carlos rotted in prison for the next ten years or so. But that was bad karma so I tried to dismiss the negative thoughts. Instead, I just dug my fingers into Buster’s fur and bent my head over to kiss him. At least he loved me. Buster licked my face.

Whoever said diamonds were a girl’s best friend had never had a dog.

“If you are going to move out I want Ryan to get you a gun,” my mother said.

I stared at her, incredulous. “Are you nuts? I’m not touching a gun. That’s what got me knocked on the head and kicked in the ribs.”

My mother gasped.

“And if I did decide I wanted a gun, I wouldn’t ask Ryan. He wants nothing to do with me.”

My mother pursed her lips.

I sighed. “What does that look mean?”

“Nothing.”

Exactly. Nothing.

I stood to the right of the stage, Alejandro next to me, earbud firmly in place. Alejandro was waxing enthusiastic about all the beautiful women in the audience at the concert we were doing security for. The venue had security but the pop star on stage had hired additional bodyguards to back up her team that traveled with her. So we were knee deep in suits. It seemed excessive to me and unlike Alejandro, I had no appreciation for the view.

“Oh, man, look at that one. She has glow sticks for a tube top. That’s fucking awesome.”

Glancing over, I shrugged. “She looks like an alien porn flick.”

“Exactly.”

“Not my type.” Isabel was my type but I hadn’t heard from her at all. Even though I had decided not to contact her, I had wanted her to contact me. So I could not answer her. Which was totally dickish. Really, it was better that she hadn’t because then I didn’t have to be that guy.

Fuck. I already was that guy.

I was the asshole who banged her then didn’t call. It didn’t matter if I had good intentions. What did that mean? I’d still blown her off. She had been kicked by that guy and I hadn’t showed up to the hospital ER to see what was going on. I had let Mickey keep me informed.

What had I proved? That I was no better than my mother. My arms were across my chest, feet firmly planted. I could feel the scowl on my face, the one I’d been wearing for a week without interruption.

“Dude, will you just go see her?” Alejandro shook his head. “You’re being stubborn as hell and while I know you’re basically stubborn all the time, but this goes beyond stupid. You’re being a total dumb ass.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, even though I wasn’t stupid. I knew he was referring to Isabel. “Hey, did I tell you my dad and Kim are back together?” One Harris man knew how to take a leap of faith in a relationship and it was not me.

Instead, I’d been working out two hours a day and listening to a lot of Metallica. I was going to be fucking ripped if I didn’t sort out my emotions sooner than later. I was going to look like I’d been juicing.

“Your dad’s got game. Unlike you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just call her. Because really, any reason you think you can’t be with her is a dumb one.”

That made me turn and glare at him. “It’s my fault that piece of shit Juan attacked her. She could have been killed!”

“You could argue it’s my fault too, since I was there, but the truth is, it’s Juan’s fault. Not yours or anyone else’s. He is a murderer and you didn’t know that. How could anyone know that?”

“She hates me.” But a niggle of doubt, and hell, even hope crept in. Alejandro was not the guy usually supporting the idea of commitment. He liked to sample every flavor that came his way.

“I doubt that.”

My phone buzzed. “Holy shit, it’s Isabel. Dude, did you conjure her up or what?” My heart rate kicked up a notch, which was really annoying. I thought I had more courage than that but Isabel was proving me to be something of a total fucking pussy when it came to her.

The text was not reassuring.

You’re an asshole.

That was so unlike Isabel it was like being slapped by her.

I know.

What else was I supposed to say? It was true. I felt shame, hot and thick, in my mouth. I knew it was the right thing to stay away from Isabel, but hurting her wasn’t who I wanted to be.

That’s it?

I’m sorry. How are you feeling?

Do you care? Really?

That was more than a slap. That was a knife in the chest.

Yes. More than you know.

Tell me.

You wouldn’t understand.

She didn’t understand that I didn’t bring a lot to the table, and that what I had to offer wasn’t enough.

So explain it to me. And I don’t mean in a text. Show your face. Show me I wasn’t wrong to trust you. I’m at the house.

“Fuck.” I rolled my shoulders and swallowed hard. She was killing me. I knew for a fact that Kim wasn’t there. She and Mickey were in Key Largo for the weekend. “Dude, I have to go.” I pulled the earbud out and jammed it into my pocket. “You’ve got to cover for me.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I have to talk to Isabel.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

I drove faster than I should have, which was becoming a habit, but I had to make sure she was okay. She should not be staying there alone and I seriously doubted either her mother or my father knew she was. It was a stupid reckless thing to do and I didn’t understand why she was being defiant about it.

When I got to the house it was dark from the outside. I knocked, because I didn’t want to scare her by opening the door with my key.

She opened the door. Naked. The kitchen light was on in the recesses of the house, so she was obscured in the shadows, but I knew what I was looking at, and it was a whole lot of luscious skin and soft curves.

My mouth went dry. “What are you doing?” I stepped inside and shielded her body with mine. “Fuck, Is, someone might see you.”

“It would be nice if someone would see me,” she murmured. “Someone like you.”

God, she was destroying me. “I see you. Trust me, I see you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you at least text me? You just left me in that hotel room, Ryan, and I know you weren’t going to work. I may be inexperienced with men but I’m not stupid.”

I didn’t know how to explain. “I was trying to protect you.” Crossing my arms across my chest so I wouldn’t touch her, I shook my head. “Actually, I was trying to protect myself. You scare me.” It was almost impossible to force those words out of my mouth but I did. I couldn’t look at her though. I stared at the wall above her head.

When she touched my arm I jerked, startled.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Tell me why you would be afraid of me. I’m the least scary person you know.”

That forced me to look at her. How could she not understand? And why the hell was she torturing me by being naked? “Is.” I uncrossed my arms and brushed her hair off her forehead. Her rich brown eyes were locked on mine and I saw all those questions there. And the love. I saw the love, too. It made it easier to admit my own weaknesses. “Because I think that you are by far the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I could fall in love with you if I let myself and that is really terrifying to me.”

The corner of her mouth turned up in smile that showed she was pleased with my admission. “Why is that so scary? I already love you, Ryan. So it’s not one-sided.”

For a woman half my size, she packed a hell of a punch. “Shit, Isabel. You’re making this really hard. You shouldn’t love me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I bring one thing to the table.” She was easing her body up against mine and I set her firmly away from me, starting to feel desperate and angry. She couldn’t force this to happen. She couldn’t force me to lose control of myself and get all caught up in sex and emotion. I had a job to do. “The one thing I can do is protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected.” She reached for me again, like her protests changed something, which they didn’t.