“Show me,” Beck said.
“He knows I saw him, so maybe he left,” she said, ushering him to the area Stan had been headed. Of course, he wasn’t there. She spun, determined to ferret him out. “I don’t see him.”
“Doesn’t matter. Jase is going to lose it.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him.”
“He has a right to know.”
“Yes, but—”
Beck peered down at her. “There’s no way I can keep this from him.”
“Just find Stan and force him to leave. Then tell Jase.” She gave him a pleading look and knew he was thinking the same thing she was—they had to do whatever proved necessary to protect Jase from his own temper and the consequences thereof.
Beck pursed his lips as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “Come on.” He covered her shoulder with a muscular arm and moved forward, stopping only to have a whispered conversation with the guards, who rushed off when he turned away. “We’ll keep looking for him together. I don’t want you out of my sight.”
As they pushed through the crowd, she withdrew her pepper spray from her pocket. Once...twice...she thought she spotted their target, but when they reached the spot he’d stood in, he’d already vanished.
They checked the stalls that had been blocked off from the guests—and finally found West. A half-undressed woman sat on a bench before him, her back to the door, West’s body between her legs. His hands were fisted in her long, dark hair.
Beck cursed, and the woman jerked around. Her identity registered, and Brook Lynn scowled. Though Jessie Kay would probably pretend not to care, she was not going to like this. At all.
Charlene Burns tugged up the straps of her dress and leaped to her feet. Without her as an anchor, West stumbled backward. His hair was mussed, his eyes bloodshot. Dark stubble dusted his jaw. There were smears of lipstick along the column of his throat, and his shirt was unbuttoned to the navel, revealing a set of washboard abs that might have been sculpted from granite. His pants gaped open at the fly, and Brook Lynn immediately averted her gaze.
“Y’all here to chaperone?” Charlene asked with a sneer. “How sweet.”
Beck stomped over to West. “At Tessa’s GED party? Really? At the party you wanted to throw for her, this is how you commemorate her? By picking your next two-month-stand?”
“She’s not my next. Was just fooling around. And you’re one to talk,” West replied. “You sleep with anything that moves.”
Beck was unfazed by the insult. “This isn’t you, man. You need to pull your head out of your ass and think.”
“Just back off.” West shoved Beck.
Beck could have shoved back—or worse—but he merely held up his hands, palms out, a do what you feel you must pose. Still, his eyes were on fire with anger.
Brook Lynn calmly faced Charlene and pointed to the exit. “Go. Now.”
“Hell, no.” Charlene slapped her hands on her hips, though she barely spared Brook Lynn a glance, too enraptured by the guys. “West invited me back to the house, and I accepted. I’d be rude to leave him now.”
Must control myself. Shouldn’t attack.
“You will leave the party,” Brook Lynn said, “and you won’t contact West again. He’s in a bad place, and you’re taking advantage of him.”
“Advantage?” Charlene snorted. “He came on to me. I was talking to your sister and he interrupted, asking if I wanted two orgasms or three. I wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than four, so we decided to get started right away.”
So...he’d come on to her in front of Jessie Kay, who crushed on him despite his abysmal treatment. That must have stung something fierce. Was Jessie Kay spiraling even now?
“Get out,” Brook Lynn insisted, fingers tight on the can of pepper spray. I will not use it. I will not freaking use it. “I mean it.”
Charlene looked over at West and Beck. West barely seemed to register her presence, he was in such a drunken daze.