“What?” I say. Not because I’m resisting but because I’m still trying to figure out what just happened. He grabs my upper arm and hauls me out, shaking his head. I hop and skip to keep up as he marches us to the paypoint near the door, muttering under his breath.
“I can’t take you fucking anywhere!”
Chapter 4
Raoul Caraldi
Idon’t know why I’m so angry as I half drag her back to the hotel.
“Goddammit, let me go!” she squawks, clawing at my hand. I ignore her nails raking over my flesh.
“We’re calling it a night, Buttercup.” Fuck. This has to be the worst week I’ve had in years.
“I’m not going anywhere with you! And stop calling me fucking Buttercup!”
Oh, dear God!
“You’re really planning to sleep on the street?” I spin to face her.
“I…” She falters, glancing back to the place we just left. She’s like a damn honeypot. I’d barely left her for a minute before the fuckers were swarming.
Can’t say I blame them. That exquisite blend of rage and innocence all wrapped up in sweet curves and pouting lips… Jesus, the fucking Pope would be tempted.
“It’s not safe out here,” I grit out.
“It’s not safe anywhere in this fucking country!” She stomps her foot.
“Then why the hell did you come here?”
“None of your business!” Her jaw juts out. We lock eyes for long seconds.
Dammit, this is ridiculous. I lean down and scoop her over my shoulder, covering the short distance to the hotel in long strides. She pummels my back with small, useless fists.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she squeals. I don’t bother responding. What would be the point?
“We’ll need another room, Betty,” I say as we arrive in the foyer. The woman at the desk stares wide-eyed.
“I don’t need a room!” She’s still thumping on my back.
“Fine. No extra room. Just my keys, please.”
Betty cautiously pushes them across the counter to me.
“Is she all right?” she asks.
“Sure. Great. We’re…uh…roleplaying.” I wink at her. Betty’s cheeks flush, and her mouth drops open.
“Ohhh…” she exhales. “Well, you’re on the second floor. Just up the stairs. Sorry…the elevator’s out of order.”
Of course, it is.
“Put me down!” Buttercup yells. I’m halfway up the first flight when the toe of her boot hits me in the gut.
“Cut it out!” I snap.
“Put me down!” she repeats, kicking me again.
“I swear to God, if you kick me once more—!”
