by Karin Tabke
Jaw set, he let off the gas.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He turned furious eyes on her. “For what?”
“For our dinner being ruined.”
“How about being sorry for lying to me?”
“I haven’t lied to you about anything!”
He shook his head. “Another lie.”
Leaning toward him, she said, “Be specific, Flynn, what is it that you think I’ve lied to you about?”
“About how cocktailing didn’t involve showing your tits off for a dollar.” He grasped the steering wheel tighter. “Motherfucker!” Flynn yelled. “If you hadn’t flashed your tits for a few lousy bucks at any guy who’ll stick a dollar in your panties, that never would have happened.”
She blanched at his anger.
“I didn’t lie to you!” she cried.
“Then explain to me how that asshole and his drunk-ass friends know you have a great set of tits?”
Instead of answering him, she looked out the window. His anger soared. He’d been duped by a lying stripper just like his father had. He hadn’t seen that coming. Who was the schmuck now?
“They were in last week,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was their server.” She turned and looked at him. The streetlights caught the sparkle of her tears. Flynn braced himself, waiting for the next round of lies. “They came in drunk and started throwing money around. The one you punched wanted a lap dance. He got belligerent when I repeatedly refused. He called Andre over and said he wasn’t getting his money’s worth.” Her voice trembled as she recounted the experience. “Andre told me in front of the guy to take my top off and serve him topless. I refused. So the bastard pulled my top off.”
He wanted to punch the motherfucker all over again. “What did you do?”
“Nothing, I simply held out my hand and asked for my top back. He dangled it in front of me and dared me to come and get it. I didn’t bite. I stood quietly with my hand out and asked him again to give me my top. Once he realized I wasn’t going to rise to his baiting, and he had his fill, he returned it.”
“So you gave him what he wanted?”
“Not by choice.”
“You didn’t cover yourself or walk away!”
“No, Flynn, I didn’t! I would have gotten fired and that’s not an option for me right now. But more than that, I wasn’t going to allow him to humiliate me! It’s want he wanted. By standing my ground, I made sure he didn’t have that over me.”
“How much did he pay you for that show?”
She threw her hands up. “It wasn’t a show!” she yelled. Then, very quietly, she slowly said, “He ripped my top off of me, Flynn. Without my permission. He ruined it. It wasn’t reparable.”
“How much?” he gritted out.
“I don’t know!” she screamed. “Even if I did, it’s none of your damn business!”
“Don’t lie to me, damn it!” He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel.
“I’m not lying to you,” she said, sitting back into the seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “I took my cut of my tips at the end of the shift, just like I do every night.”
“How could you take his money?”
“Don’t talk to me about money, Flynn.” She looked away from him and said, “I’m not going to discuss this with you anymore.”
“That’s fine with me.”
As he pulled up in front of the hotel, Flynn came to a screeching stop. The attendant must have sensed the mood inside because he backed off from assisting.
Flynn sat still for a long minute in an attempt to compose himself. He was furious at what had happened. Furious that pieces of shit like those guys had seen Pink. He got that the guy ripped her top off, but she stood there, and let them all look! Then they paid her for the pleasure! And she took the fucking money. He was furious she had to subject herself to that kind of environment each night she went to work. Furious she had conveniently omitted the episode when he had specifically asked about her stripping, and furious with himself for being sucked in by her innocent act.
As Flynn exited the car he shook the attendant off. Coming around, he opened the door for Pink. As they entered the hotel he didn’t touch her. He wanted to, damn it to hell, despite it all he wanted to.
Once in their suite, he stopped in the middle of the living room and watched her walk over to the terrace door and open it. As she stepped out, the cool night air coupled with the sound of the crashing waves took him back to earlier, when they had connected under the sunset.
He walked to the edge of the room and said loudly enough to be heard over the surf, “Is that what I’ll have to contend with every time we go out in public?” He jammed his fingers through his hair and punched the wall. “How many other incidents like that have occurred? How many men have seen you like those assholes have?”
When she didn’t answer, his frustration mushroomed. He didn’t want to feel this way. Distrustful. Nervous about taking her out in public. And he’d hated that look on her face when that dick insulted her. Damn it, he just wanted to protect her! “I can’t even reintroduce you to my friends because they’ve all seen your tits and half of your ass! How do you think that makes me feel, knowing some of them have probably jerked off thinking about them?”
She turned slowly, and Flynn’s heart dropped to his feet. Her beautiful face had the same haunted look as when that ass called her out. This time Flynn couldn’t blame her hurt on that guy.
“I want to go home,” she said, her voice barely audible above the ocean sounds.
He nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Chapter Fourteen
The ride heading east on the San Mateo Bridge was the polar opposite of the ride west. Izzy and Flynn had not spoken a word to each other since they’d mutually agreed to go to their respective homes. There was nothing to say.
Flynn couldn’t accept her past, and Izzy couldn’t change it. Even if she could, she wouldn’t, because the irony of it was, it had led her to him. These last twenty-four hours had been the most amazing twenty-four hours of her life. Now it was over. And it hurt.
Nothing, aside from her mother dying in her arms, had hurt this bad. Not even losing the sister she loved.
As the night scenery sped past her, Izzy tried to process who she was now. Because she was not the same woman she was yesterday. Her promise to herself to find Alex had led her down a dangerous path and into a quagmire of emotion she was ill-equipped to handle. She’d agreed to make a sex tape for information. She’d stripped down to her bikini bottoms for a room full of cops, attempted to drug one of them, got caught by him, almost got arrested by him, then subsequently lost her virginity to him.
The external escapades paled compared to what she had experienced internally. Her heart, that thing she had protected for so long, had cracked open. It ached. Badly. Painfully so. Flynn had filled her with more than his glorious penis; he’d filled her with hope, abandon, happiness, need, and a burning desire to be cherished not for her birthright or her job, but for herself, the stripped down to the raw center Isadora. He’d peeled away her layers, revealing parts of herself she hadn’t even known about, and then walked away because he didn’t like what he’d discovered.
How was she supposed to recover from this? How could she not yearn for his strong protective arms around her, his warm body taking her where she knew she would never go again? He made her laugh, he made her swoon, he made feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looked at her with those electric blue eyes that melted her to her very core.
Her chest constricted as she fought desperately to silence the sob that threatened to give her away. She wished she were alone so she could cry.
She sniffed. Cry? The last time she’d cried was when her mother lay in her arms and took her last breath. She’d promised herself then that she would never allow anyone to get to her heart the way her father had gotten to her mother’s. And what did she do? The same damn thing. Except
she wasn’t going to throw her pride and self-worth out the window and go crawling back to a man who didn’t regard her as his equal. Her pride was intact. No way was she going to walk through life broken, the way her mother had.
Her phone chirped in her purse, indicating she’d received a text message. Had to be a wrong number; no one called her, except the professor and Charlie. Or sometimes Andre to work an extra shift. Professor Gamble was in the UK, Charlie was in Santa Cruz, and the club was closed on Sundays.
To take her mind off her broken heart, Izzy slid the phone from her purse. The text was from Charlie:
Came home 4 clothes 2 find a fairly hot gigantic dude pounding on the door looking for u. What’s up with that?
Biting her lip to steady her nerves, Izzy’s stomach did a slow roll. Andre wanted his video. While Charlie knew she was a cocktail server, he didn’t know where. Not that he would judge. He got judged enough on his own, so he was the last person who would call her out.
What did he say? she texted back.
Just wanted to know where u were. I told him even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell a rude Russian. ;) Where r u anyway? Def not with a hot guy, so what’s up?
Izzy smiled. Charlie had no filter. She loved him like the brother she would never have. He knew all her secrets. Well, most of them.
Actually, I WAS with a hot guy. He’s bringing me home now.
Excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor! Did you do it?
Several times ;)
30
Oh, I am so not going to leave until I meet him.
We broke up so not sure what kind of reception you’ll get.
Oh sweets, I just want to meet the man who cracked your chastity belt code! I promise I’ll scat as soon as I do. Xoxoxo
PS, wait a minute! You hand over the coveted cherry and he dumps you? What a prick. Sorry, sweets, but I’m going to let him have it.
No, not his fault. Mine. Plz don’t say anything.
Just like you to take the blame.
It’s complicated.
Isn’t it always?
Izzy sat staring at his last text. He had no idea.
“Is everything okay?” Flynn asked, his deep voice startling her.
Looking out the window, she said, “Craptastic.”
He didn’t respond and she was glad. No damn it, she wasn’t! She wanted him to fight for her! To tell her he didn’t give a shit that his friends had seen her boobs.
Izzy swallowed hard. His friends and those guys at the restaurant weren’t the only ones who had seen what God gave her. No, there had been another party there that night, and when they saw what was going on...
“Those guys back at the restaurant?” she said her voice low and emotional. Might as well come clean. Not like she had anything to lose. “They weren’t the only ones that night.”
She turned to look at Flynn. His profile was tight, his jaw so hard she thought he might crack it. “While I stood there refusing to cover myself or take the bait, the dancers on the stage behind me stopped dancing when they realized they’d lost the attention of the crowd. It didn’t take long for half the club to get in on the sideshow.” Inhaling deeply, she let out a slow erratic exhale. “They started throwing money at me, catcalling, promising me more if I got up on the stage.”
“Did you?” he choked out.
“No. I continued to stand there with my hand out. After about five minutes of me not backing down, the crowd began to thin. My top was tossed to me in shreds. It was ruined, but Crystal, one of the dancers, gave me a bar towel and I walked back to the dressing room, changed, and went home.”
“Why did you tell me that?”
“I thought you’d want to know that those guys, your friends, and you aren’t the only ones who have seen my boobs.” She turned back to look out the window. “Probably like fifty or so more. And Andre because he was standing there. But that’s it. Oh, and Charlie my roommate, but he doesn’t count. Well, and the girls I work with, but they don’t count either, do they?” she asked, looking at him.
A small tic flicked in his cheek.
When he didn’t answer she said, “Anyway, that’s it.”
Still he didn’t comment. Not that she expected him to. “Oh, wait, I forgot about the time I was at the gym in the Jacuzzi. When I stood up my bathing suit top filled with water and the girls kind of popped out. But the guy sitting there was old. Maybe eighty or so. Although he winked and gave me a thumbs up, I don’t think if he ever saw me on the street he’d make a big deal about it. He’s probably seen so many boobs in his life they’re all a blur. Besides, he was a gentleman about it.” She sat back into the seat. “I didn’t realize the girls were so popular,” she said to herself.
Izzy didn’t say another word, but neither did Angry Man. As they pulled up to her little house, she reached for her bag in the backseat. By the time the car rolled to a stop, Izzy was ready to get out and never see Flynn again.
“I’ll walk you up,” Flynn said, his voice hard, emotionless.
“Thanks, but I can walk myself up.”
She pressed her hand to the door handle, turned to him, and said, “Thank you for not arresting me, and thank you for the best twenty-four hours of my life.” She pushed the door open and as she slid from the seat, she turned back and added, “I think it’s safe to say we don’t need to wait until the end of the week to evaluate our arrangement, so don’t stress about it.” She shrugged. “Not that you were going to.” When she was out of the car, she leaned back in before she closed her door. “And, Special Agent Ryker, I don’t expect you to continue to help me find my sister. But I am going back to the Oakland police department tomorrow and tell them what you’ve told me. Maybe that will light a fire under their butts.” Izzy couldn’t turn off her diarrhea mouth. “Okay, so bye.”
She shut the door and suddenly, she wanted as much space between them as humanly possible. She ran up the sidewalk to the porch where Charlie stood waiting for her. She threw her arms around his neck and did everything she could not to fall apart. But a sob escaped. His arms wrapped around her, tightening protectively. She heard the car door open. Then she felt Charlie’s breath hitch.
“He’s getting out, Iz.” The door shut. “If he’s half the stud that car is—Oh, hell no and hello, tall, dark and—hot damn, girlfriend, I don’t blame your cherry for pouncing all over that. Does he have a gay twin brother?”
“Isadora,” Flynn’s deep voice called as he approached. “Is everything all right?”
Charlie pushed her behind his five foot seven, one-hundred-and-forty-pound body. “How can you ask if everything’s all right when you’re the one that made Iz cry?”
When Flynn didn’t respond, but stared at Charlie like he wanted to stuff him a hole somewhere, Charlie kept at him. “I, a person who cares about her, would never do that. Obviously you don’t care about her since you made her cry. You need to leave. Now.” Izzy had never heard Charlie angry before. His voice held no room for argument.
“Isadora?” Flynn asked.
Izzy sucked it up as best as she could, even though she was feeling like a little girl who was just uninvited to the popular kid’s party. Moving around Charlie, she clasped his hand tightly as she faced Flynn. Her heart did a crazy stutter step. He was so handsome. Potent male personified. God, she was going to miss every nuance of him. “Everything’s fine, please leave.”
He stood for a long, drawn-out minute holding her gaze. The hot sting of tears built up. Blinking furiously to keep the damn tears at bay, rigidly, she stood her ground, offering him no concession. He either found a way to deal with her past or he didn’t.
Judging by the tightness of his features and the angry burn in his eyes, she doubted he’d come to terms with her past any time soon. Men like Flynn didn’t. Their egos couldn’t handle it. To him she was damaged goods. A blight to his high-society name. Just like she was a blight to her father’s name. Birds of a feather flocked together, Momma had w
arned her.
“Good night,” he bit out, then turned on his heel and walked away. The sound of his retreating footsteps crushed her heart. Forlornly, she watched Flynn’s tall body as his angry stride took him farther and farther out of her life. When he moved around his car and came around to the driver door, he stopped and stared at her on the porch for a long minute. Hope swelled in her chest.
“Oh, tall, dark, and craves some, wants to come back to momma real bad,” Charlie crooned. “He’s been a bad boy and he can’t figure out how to make it right and retain his pride at the same time.”“He’s not coming back,” Izzy whispered.
Flynn ducked into his car and roared off. She stood there until she could no longer hear the deep purr of the engine.
Charlie turned and took her against this chest. “Let it out, sweets. Let it all out, then we’ll talk about it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Flynn gunned the Vette, wanting the tightness in his chest to ease. Anger, frustration, guilt, fear, jealousy, and something else he couldn’t put a name to twisted him up inside. Nothing had trained him for what he was experiencing at that moment. He’d never been so furious in his life nor felt so helpless. He was a self-admitted control freak. He didn’t like surprises or people’s actions having a negative emotional impact on him. To make sure that didn’t happen, he controlled the people around him and limited not only their emotional influence on him, but his on them. It was why he loved being a federal agent. The law gave him the room to control the bad guys, not the other way around.
Flynn didn’t know any other way. Growing up with an absentee father who made no effort to hide his women—his strippers—had resulted in Flynn’s developing a protective nature. Not for his father, but for his mother, who’d taken her husband’s infidelity with the stiff upper lip of her Boston upbringing, even when his father had brought them to the table when his mother was in the house, for God’s sake!
Those women were raucous, bawdy women who saw a golden goose in his old man. To hang on to it, they went to great lengths to win the Ryker boys over with exuberant shows of affection. Mal was mesmerized by them, but Flynn refused to speak to them, which earned him an ass-kicking. Flynn’s heart had slammed shut when his mother died too young. Flynn would never forgive his old man for killing her.