“Yes. Only a few blocks down the road.”
Relief cascaded over his tense muscles, and his shoulders rolled back. “Faye, will you deal with that?” He thrust his chin at the weeping bitch on the couch.
“I just reported it. Police are on their way.”
He nodded and sprinted out the door to find Charlee.
86
The idleness during the five-minute drive allowed Jay’s hangover to surface in a pulsating headache. At least he’d had the presence of mind to shower and brush his teeth before he’d walked into the nightmare waiting for him outside his room, the suite that had been vacant of Charlee. His heart ached.
The Suburbans rolled to a stop in front of a multi-level condominium in downtown Little Rock. He angled his neck, strained to see out the windows. Residential buildings fringed both sides of the road. His head swam. “What is this? She’s not in a hotel?”
Bodyguards filed out of the three SUVs, spreading over the sidewalk and around the building.
Tony opened the door. “I advise we discuss it inside, Mr. Mayard.” She stepped out, alert and irritating in her formality.
In other words, she expected him to make a scene, one she wanted to manage. Dread mounted on his already tight shoulders.
Inside, Nathan answered a door on the ground floor. Jay pushed past him, sweeping through a living room decorated with modern furnishings. By whatever stroke of luck, Roy hadn’t snatched Charlee the previous night. Perhaps he was waiting until she left town. Maybe he was still playing games. If the fuckwad had a pulse on this apartment, he wouldn’t be able to access it now. Not with the twenty bodyguards posted at every exit, entrance, and hidey hole.
“Where’s Charlee?” He ferreted around a corner and into an empty kitchen. “Where is she?”
“She’s here.” Nathan tailed him, curling a fold of papers in his hands. “She’s…” He held out the unraveling documents. “Here. This is her copy of the contract. I don’t know what she’s told you, but this will explain her…therapy. This is why she’s here.”
Accepting the pages with numb fingers, Jay didn’t need to read them. He knew her what her therapy entailed. Intimately. Every muscle in his body readied in preparation to kill a motherfucking Dom. “Which room?” He twisted around Nathan.
His back hit the wall, pinned beneath Nathan’s weight.
“She thinks you betrayed her.” Nathan shoved his forearm against Jay’s jugular, applying enough pressure to prick a burn behind his eyes. “I’ve watched her endure an ungodly amount of suffering over the years. She’s hurting. This is the only way she knows how to deal with it. Look…” Nathan released him and yanked the contract from his hand, opening it to the second page. “See? She excluded all sexual activity from the scene. She’s here for the pain.”
Jay read the paragraph twice. Flipping to the beginning, he read the entire contract, each section shedding more light on her therapy.
Stepping back, Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I know why she does this, but I hate it. Makes me sick. She needs treatment, Jay. Conventional treatment. She’s broken inside.”
The hairs on Jay’s nape bristled, and a fevered vehemence swelled through him. “Nothing about her is broken. She’s the strongest fucking person you will ever have the privilege of knowing. Say that shit again and you’ll be eating through a straw for the rest of your miserable life. Got me?”
Nathan’s brows shot up his forehead, and his mouth hung open. Then his cheeks twitched, and his gaping mouth spread into a toothy grin. “Last door at the end of the hall.”
Purpose surged through Jay’s blood as he weaved through the crowd of bodyguards, past the living room and down the hall. He could break down the door, raise ten kinds of fist-swinging hell, and distress her more than he already had. Or he could knock, ask to observe, and maybe gain more insight into how he could give her what she needed.
He raised his fist and tapped on the door. After a painfully long moment and one…two…three lock clicks, the door cracked to the length of a short chain.
Two narrowed eyes peered out, widened. “Well, I’ll be damned. Jay Mayard from The Burn is standing in my hallway.”
“Fucking hell.” Charlee’s adorable mutter floated through the crack and nuzzled his heart.
The eyes behind the door vanished as the man turned his back. “Is he the emotional barrier?”
“The worst kind.” Venom tightened her voice.
Jay choked. Worse than Roy? He couldn’t condemn her anger, but fuck, that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “I’m the boyfriend. I get that she hates me. I just need one minute to change her mind about that.”
“Go away, Jay.” A muffled stomp accompanied her shout.