“You already admitted to reading back through the messages,” I accuse instead.
“Yup, I did,” she agrees.
That comment and her defeated posture take a little wind out of my pissed off sails.
“Wait…” She leans forward and peers out the window. “Drop me here.”
“What?” I tap the brakes before realizing what she’s asking, but then I continue on. “I’m not dropping you off.”
“Ah, yeah, you are. There’s a hotel right there. I’ll call Liv to get me a room. I’m sure you can still call in thatrain check.”
“Absolutely not! I’m not letting you run off and get killed over something stupid.” I hate the words as soon as they are out of my mouth, but I’m still too angry to take them back.
“Something stupid?” she asks herself softly. There’s a short pause that I could try to fill with reason, but my tongue is tied now, and I don’t know what to say. “Listen, I’m not your problem. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but… yeah, that’s it. Thanks, but no thanks. I want to get out now.”
“Harlyn, don’t be crazy.”
She turns her head and gives me a dagger of a glare before her mouth hardens into a tight line. Damn it,I shouldn’t have said that, but instead of saying sorry, I try to make her understand where I’m coming from. “The man who killed your sister could also have tabs on your friend, meaning if she got a hotel for you, then he could know exactly where you are.”
“Then I will have Parker or any other fucking stranger get it for me, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like he can magic himself here. By the time he got all the way to D.C., I’d be gone. Stop the car, Special Agent Landry, I want out.”
My anger and defensiveness thin a little until the smallest bit of remorse worms its way into my thoughts, or maybe it’s the thought of her leaving and calling me Special Agent Landry that makes me feel a whole lot less irritated.
I pull into the next hotel’s valet line, which is thankfully empty for the time being. As I put the car in park, Harlyn lifts thedoor handle to get out. I reach for her left arm and gently wrap my fingers around her elbow. She doesn’t rip her arm away, but she doesn’t turn back around to acknowledge me either, so I’m forced to tell her back, “I’ll get the hotel.”
She stiffens slightly before replying, “I will pay you back.”
I don’t respond to that, because I’m not planning on letting her, even though I hate the thought of forking over a couple hundred dollars for the night when she could just stay at my place.
Harlyn finally tugs her arms free when a man in an ill-fitting uniform approaches her side of the car. “Checking in or dropping off?” he inquires.
“Checking in.”
“Dropping off,” we both say at the same time. Harlyn’s face is flushed red, concealing her freckles, but I don’t know if it’s due to misplaced embarrassment or if she’s just upset. “He won’t be staying long.”
The valet pokes his head through the passenger door. “Go ahead and pull up to the check-in area.” He points to an area a little farther down and out from under the canopy.
I lean over a little and mutter so only he will here, “I’m staying.”
His mouth curls up on one side, and he winks. “Call down with a room number, and I’ve got you.”
I glance over at Harlyn, who’s moved closer to the roundabout door, so I don’t have to worry she overheard the valet. “Thanks.”
I curse under my breath when I park the car, leaving the keys in it, and look to find Harlyn gone. I’m angry again, but not for the same reason. This time it’s because she’s making me worry.
I enter a lower vestibule, filled with too much glass and opulence, but it’s what people pay for, then I climb up the wide marble steps to the lobby proper. It only takes a second tospot Harlyn, who looks a little out of place in her leggings and sweatshirt, though she makes them look good. She’s speaking to a guy who looks closer to her age than I am behind the registration counter. Her smile, though imitated, is no less effective, proof of which is evident by the man extending his cell phone over to her seemingly without a second thought.
The bending of her lips this time is genuine when she gives him an appreciative grin. The attendant smirks when Harlyn looks down to presumably dial a number. I walk up right behind her, getting way closer than I have any right to in the moment and say, “Did you request our room, sweetheart?”
Harlyn’s shoulders tighten as she brings the phone up to her chest, shrinking. I’m not exactly sure what I said that bothered her—well, in truth the entire question was shitty, and it gave the exact impression I wanted it to, but her reaction was telling.
“I was going to try Liv, but it’s okay.” She extends the phone back to the man who furrows his brow before accepting it.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” The guy glances at me briefly, not making eye contact or even offering much resistance if Harlyn really was in a bad situation, which is the way it might seem to someone watching from the outside, because she doesn’t seem happy to see me.
“Yeah, I don’t want to get her into trouble,” she admits then moves away from me and the counter.
“I need a room.”
