Hard to Forget
“A park?”
“Yes, a park. The worst part is when it was over, he said, ‘that was really good’ and this voice comes out of the shadows saying, ‘yes it was’—turns out there was a homeless guy sleeping and we did the deed right in front of him. Though I’m sure he didn’t see much because it was so dark. I was picking twigs out of my hair for hours.”
Jax is silent, then he roars with laughter. “You lost your virginity, in a park, in front of a homeless dude.”
“I didn’t know he was there!” I protest.
“Probably made his year.”
“I’ll hurt you, Shields.”
He grunts. “Try it.”
I don’t. Instead I ask, “What about you?”
“I was fourteen, she was sixteen, it was over before it began and we were in the back of a smelly old car.”
“Did you blow your load before you even slid home?” I giggle.
“Oh no, I slid home, then blew my load. Immediately.”
I snort laugh. “No pumping action?”
“Not one,” he mutters.
“Oh that’s hilarious.”
“I was fourteen. I don’t think any of us could hold it in at that age. Hell, I just looked at a picture of a naked woman and would come in my pants.”
I’m laughing so hard my belly hurts. “Seriously?” I giggle. “I feel bad for your partner. She probably avoided younger men from then on.”
“Well, at least I didn’t entertain a homeless man.”
I pinch his arm.
“Okay, well, mine was a little worse than yours. Fine. My turn now.”
“Shoot.”
“Have you ever been in love, Mr. Shields?”
“Nope.”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“Not even close?”
He chuckles. “Baby, nope.”
“Poor, sad, strange little man.”
“Trust me, nothing about me is little.” He grunts. “What about you? You ever been in love?”
“No, but that doesn’t count. You’re old, I’m not.”
He squeezes my breast. “We’re only a few years apart in age, kitten.”
“Whatever, it makes sense in my head, okay?”
“All right.”
We fall silent a moment, then I ask, “What made you want to run a big chain of hotels?”
He shrugs behind me. “I don’t honestly know. I think it was just sheer determination. I grew up knowing I was going to do something with my life, but I was never a jock type, or the armed forces type. I wanted power and I wanted success. The first hotel was handed to me by my grandfather, back when it only had two in the chain. I decided to take over the management when he died, and with the inheritance he left me, I started building it up.”
“What happened to your parents?” I ask.
“They split when I was only three. My mom didn’t want the responsibility of a child, so she ran and I never saw her again. My dad died of cancer. I lived with my grandfather from that point, and that’s where it all started.”
Gosh, that’s awful.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. Are you ever curious about your mom?”
He sighs. “Sometimes, not so much now. She made a choice and I’m not going to go searching for someone who doesn’t want to love me.”
I understand that.
My phone starts ringing in my uniform on the floor, cutting off the conversation, and I sigh, sliding out of the bed and picking it up, seeing an unknown caller. I answer it.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Great, a prankster.
“Hello?” I push again.
“I wonder how your friend is doing,” a thick, deep, muffled voice says.
“Who is this?”
“He put up a good fight.”
My stomach flips and I look to Jax, who is already out of bed.
“Who. Is. This?”
“Better go and check on him, after all he’s only one floor down.”
I drop the phone and grab my clothes, jerking them on before turning and charging towards the door. Jax, who has been speaking to me for the last few minutes, but I’ve taken none of it in, lunges at me, circling my waist and hauling me backwards. “Delaney, whoa. You need to stop and slow down. What’s going on?”
“Kyle, oh God.”
“What about him? Laney, speak to me.”
“They said someone’s hurt. They meant Kyle, I know it. I have to go to him.”
“No,” Jax says, squeezing his arms around me. “No, Delaney, don’t go to him. If that’s who I think it was, it’s probably a trick.”
I stop struggling and his words sink in. He’s probably right, it probably is a trick.
“What do I do?” I whisper.
“Call the cops, Laney.”
I nod and pull out my phone, dialing the cops. I tell them what happened and they assure me they’ll be on their way, then Jax dials reception.
“Did someone enter the hotel only ten, fifteen minutes ago and request to see Kyle?” he asks.
He nods a few times.
“And you just fucking let them up?”
More silence.
“There are security measures in place for all my fucking guests,” he roars. “And one of those is that you call up every fucking visitor.”
More silence.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re new, this is unacceptable.”
I place my hand on his arm, but he doesn’t notice.
“You better tell Timothy I’m coming to see him, and while you’re doing that, pack your shit. I won’t have incompetent people working in my hotel.”
Then he slams the phone closed and turns to me. “The new receptionist let them up, they said they were Kyle’s brothers.”
“Jax,” I say, my voice shaky.
“It’s okay, Delaney. The police are on their way.”
“I should go down…”
“No, there’s a chance they’re waiting somewhere, I can’t risk that.”
“This is all my fault,” I say, dropping my head into my hands. “I should have been paying more attention instead of…”
“No,” Jax says, taking my arms and holding me tight against him. “Don’t you fucking dare blame yourself for this, I won’t have it. Even if you were at my door, standing guard, you still wouldn’t have known anything was going on. The receptionist who let them up is the one to blame, not you.”
He’s right, I know he’s right, but I’m too panicked to do anything but wait and pray that Kyle isn’t dead down there. I busy myself making sure my hair is straightened, my clothes are respectable, and I have my weapon ready, while Jax tidies the bed and gets dressed. Just as he finishes buttoning up his shirt, there’s a knock at the door.
I move quickly, gun drawn. I slowly approach it, then stare through the peephole. There are two police officers and the hotel manager, Timothy, standing outside. I lower my gun and unlatch the door. “Hello, officers,” I say, my voice shaky. “Timothy.”
“Ma’am, we’re here to inform you of the goings-on downstairs. We understand you’re Mr. Shields’ protection?”