He shrugs a single shoulder. “Yeah, you look like a huge fucking asshole right now, but all of your problems are stemming from the fact you don’t think she can handle hearing the truth.” He casually bites at a hangnail, perfectly at ease while my life implodes. “From what you’ve told me, that girl’s been through Hell and came out the other side smiling. She’s tougher than either of you two bastards, and you’re treating her like she’s made of glass.” A wicked smirk lights up his face. “And seeing as she would have happily fucked you out on the beach where anyone could see, I think it’s safe to say she’s perfectly welcome to rougher treatment. But it’s probably better in the long run that she sees you’re not up for the task now so she can find someone who is.”
In a blink, I have a hand around his throat and him pinned beneath me, lip curled in a snarl. My voice is little more than gravel as I warn, “Watch your mouth.”
The suicidal bastard simply beams up at me, teasing. “Ooh, yep, that’ll do it. As a self-appointed advocate for your mate, I stand by my statement. Confidence is a good look on you, mate.”
Scoffing, I release him, getting to my feet. “How do I even begin to start fixing this mess?”
Becks rolls onto his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms. “You stop trying to think ten steps ahead.” At my raised eyebrow, he narrows his eyes. “You’re sitting around here having a pity party, trying to think about how you can get your mate to forgive you and be open to accepting you at some point. Kindly fuck off with that. Without knowingwhyyou flung yourself off of a damn cliff to get away from her, she’s going to be blaming herself unless the mage told her everything, and you think that would make it any better? To know it wasn’t just some guy that bolted like his ass was on fire after dry humping her, but herfated?”
My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. “I keep making things worse.”
“We’ve established that, yeah.” Becks gets to his feet, emerald eyes full of sympathy as he claps me on the back. “You’re trying so hard to protect her from yourself. You’re not some terrible burden like you seem to think, Kase. Quit being noble for once in your life and accept that it’s not only okay to want something, but to let yourself take it.”
Swallowing, I nod shallowly, not really feeling it, but getting his point. “Come with me?”
His eyes widen a bit in surprise, but he hides it quickly, tucking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Need someone to drag your charred carcass out of the hallway when the mage is done with ‘ya?”
Scooping my phone off of the floor, I head out into the living room to grab my shoes, grumbling, “Need a damn teleprompter.”
Chuckling, he slips his shoes on. “I think she’d notice if I was flashing you notecards, but I can jab you in the ribs if you say something stupid if it makes you feel better.”
Huffing, I lead the way down several flights of stairs and out to my car, waiting until we’re on the road before speaking again. “Full disclosure, Malcolm’s going to be pissed that I’m bringing you. And security might have orders to throw me out on my ass before we take two steps in the building.”
Beck simply hums, strumming his fingers on the dashboard like drumsticks, happy to have a front row seat to watch my life explode. “I thought you said that was your fated mate up there? Are you really going to let a couple of assholes stand in your way while she’s up there crying?”
Flinching, his words hit their mark, but add to my resolve like I’m sure was what he was aiming for. “No. Even if it’s only to apologize, I’m seeing her before she pushes me out of the nearest window.”
“You should bring her something,” he suggests, rooting around in the glove box.
Pulling to a stop at a red light, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “What do you think I broughtyoufor, genius?”
That finally gets a reaction and he turns to me with suspicion. “You literally said moral support, you lying son of a bitch. You’re going to throw me to the wolves to buy yourself time to get up there, aren’t you?”
The light turns green and I face the road again, letting him stew until I merge lanes and hit the next intersection. “Flowers aren’t going to cut it. If I want to salvage this mess, I need to prove that I’m all in. Committed.”
He subtly puts his hand on the door handle like he’s preparing to tuck and roll. “Little big to pass me off as a puppy.”
Snorting a laugh, I pull into the parking garage. “She wanted to meet you, prove that I didn’t have to keep my life outside of work separate from them.” Pulling into a space, I shut off the car, sighing. “She wanted me to be comfortable enough to feel at home there, that my friends were welcome and I didn’t have to sacrifice anything for her sake.”
Beckett’s quiet for a minute. “She wanted to take away your reasons for keeping your distance so that you’d want to stay.”
Throat bobbing with my next swallow, I get out of the car without a word. Rounding to the entrance though, we pull to an abrupt stop at the sight of the crowd outside of the door. Jack and Leo are standing just inside the locked glass doors, arms crossed and blocking the view of the lobby as best as they can. Focusing on the small mob, I spot the news camera quickly, blanching as I pick the reporter’s voice out of the chaotic din.
“-adies lament, as Coria Bay’s most eligible bachelor is apparently off the market. Billionaire philanthropist Malcolm Drake of Drake Enterprises is officially married. But why the cloak and dagger wedding? What should have been the event of the season was met with only silence, so those of us at CBN have to ask; what is Malcolm Drake trying to hide? A wild night gone awry? A mate with a past he’s attempting to keep from the press?”
Her voice fades to a dull ringing in my ears as I watch her lift a photograph of Scarlett walking between me and Malcolm on our way to the beach the other day, a few steps away from the car.
Thank fuck Malcolm was right. In that lighting, her eyes look solid red; they’ll assume she’s a shifter. They can find her name on public record, but the fake identity should hold up. Malcolm went all out on that expense; school transcripts, tax returns back dated.
“Kase,” Beck hisses, jabbing an elbow in my side and gesturing to Jack behind the door.
As soon as I meet his eye, he tilts his head, and I push my way through the crowd. Beck capitalizes on the path I bulldoze to walk behind me, the two of us ignoring the reporters turning on us like vultures once they recognize I’m the other guy in the picture.
Jack cracks the door open and I shove Beck through first since my frame blocks the gap better than anything. Leo shoves a few hands out of the way to slam the door closed, promptly locking it again. The two of them turn their backs on the doors, giving the gossip mongers the cold shoulder while obscuring their view. Now that we’re in, Jack slaps the hidden button on the top of the door frame, a thick sheet of metal descending to the floor where Leo sets the lock.
“Why didn’t you do that before?” I demand, pulling rank that I don’t have anymore as worry manifests itself as a hostile bark. “Are the other entrances secure?”
Jack lifts his chin defiantly, but the intimidation factor falls flat since he’s at least a foot shorter than me. “Because we were told to keep this one open in case you decided to show up.”
