“If I was being offered five thousand dollars, I’d care too,” Detoine pointed out.
“He’s tried several times to walk away,” Ryan countered. “He says with his past, he’d bring more trouble than he’s worth. I believe he’s wrong.”
I hadn’t known I was going to have to listen to them talk about me like this. I could feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck.
Detoine’s focused shifted back to me. “You want to walk away from a job that pays five grand, Bobby? That’s more money than you’ve seen in a long while.”
My head was pounding. Rubbing the back of my neck, I stared out the small rectangle that served as a window. “I just don’t want anybody to have trouble because of me. I’ve caused enough.”
Moments ticked by.
Detoine finally blew out a rough breath. “Kid, I just don’t know what to make of you, you know that?”
Since I didn’t know how to answer, I didn’t bother.
“Okay, I’ve just got one more question.”
I looked at him.
He stared at me with grim eyes. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I haven’t much liked anything about being here, sir,” I said honestly.
“Then you’re really not going to like this, but I have to ask.” He very pointedly didn’t look at Carly so when he first said it, I wasn’t quite sure what he meant.
The question was just so…so…bizarre, it didn’t make sense.
Finally, I leaned forward and spoke in a carefully controlled voice. “Would you repeat that?”
“Bobby.” Elbows braced on his desk, Detoine said softly, “I need to know if you’re providing any other services to Ms. Prince. Anything other than what you’ve explained here.” He hesitated, and then added, “Personal services.”
I looked over at the woman next to me. Her face was white, her lips pressed into a nearly invisible line. I could feel Jake and Ryan shifting behind me and knew it was taking all of their self-control not to intervene.
“You’re serious,” I said, turning back to Detoine. “You think this woman is paying me to sleep with her?” If it’d been just Detoine and me, my question would’ve been a lot less polite.
“Sex for money has been known to happen.” Detoine looked pretty damn uncomfortable with the situation, and that was the only thing that let me keep my temper in check. His gaze skittered away from mine, and he busied himself tidying up his desk. “I realize this is terribly personal and uncomfortable, but the question needs to be answered.”
“Why?” Carly demanded coldly.
I glanced at her and saw that she had two spots of color high up on her cheeks. I suddenly realized that she might have been embarrassed at first, but now she was pissed off. Like swing-her-purse-at-someone’s-head pissed off.
Detoine looked up, but didn’t meet her gaze. “It just does.”
“No.”
Carly whipped her head around and glared at me, anger turning her eyes to blue fire. “Don’t you dare give him the satisfaction of an answer.”
“I have to,” I said softly. Then I looked back at Detoine. “The answer is no, Detoine. I’m not being paid for personal services. And you can also tell Dale Mitchell to fuck off.”
His facial expression didn’t change, but his lashes flickered. That was all. Just the quickest flicker, not even a blink, really. But it was enough to confirm what I’d suspected.
Dale was the entire reason I was here. The fucker.
“Some detective with a grudge questions my motives for hiring a bodyguard and the two of us have to be subjected to...” Her hands gestured in front of her like she couldn’t find the words to describe what was happening.
“Now, Ms. Prince,” Detoine said, moving to defuse the situation. “This is just a routine interview. Considering the rather exorbitant fee you’re paying him, I had to make sure there was nothing else involved. That’s my job.”
“Exorbitant?” She laughed, but the sound was brittle. “Five thousand is pocket change to me, Mr. Sampson. I’ve spent that on a spa day without blinking. Hell, I might’ve spent that just on clothes for Bobby yesterday. I don’t even look at the bill for things like that.”
Blood rushed to my face and I found myself staring at the soft, steel gray trousers that had been delivered to the hotel just that morning. Five thousand dollars? That hadn’t been the number I’d seen...
Fuck. The suits. She’d put a rush job on the suits. For all I knew, the damn suit they expected me to wear later that day cost five fucking grand on its own.
Detoine cleared his throat. “What’s pocket change to you is several months’ income to others.”
She stood up abruptly and leaned across the desk. “That’s not the point. We’re here because a cop with a grudge got his jockey shorts in a twist and you fucking know it. Don’t you? But you can’t tell that cop to fuck off, can you? You have to act like me wanting Bobby to work for me is something...sordid.”
I stood up.
“Carly.” I caught her elbow. She stiffened, and I knew she was going to pull away. Leaning in until I could smell her apple-scented shampoo, I whispered, “You asked me not to quit. Now I’m asking you to do something for me. Let this go. It won’t help.”
Slowly, she straightened. A shudder wracked her body and she turned to face me. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “You went to jail. You did your time.”
My heart twisted. What had I done to deserve her protection? Her faith?
“You don’t get it.” I brushed her hair back from her face, forcing my hand not to linger. “Whether or not I did my time doesn’t change the fact that his brother is still gone. Nothing brings him back. He’s always going to hate me. And he has a right to.”
“So he gets to abuse his badge?”
I didn’t have anything to say to that.
“No.”
I looked up at Detoine’s quiet voice, except he wasn’t looking at me. He was focused on Carly and his eyes were gentle, understanding even.
“No cop has a right to abuse his badge, not for anything.” He sighed and then leaned back in his seat, skimming one hand back across the neat crop of short black hair. He focused hard on the wall for a moment, and then shifted his attention back to me. “Bobby, if you would, sit. Please. Ms. Prince.”
I sat. A moment after I did, Carly did as well, but it was pretty clear from the rigid line of her spine and the way she swung her foot that she wasn’t happy about any of this.
Yeah, well, neither was I. Shame twisted my gut up as I shoved back out of the chair to pace the small confines of the office. I knew exactly how many strides I could take before I had to turn around. Three. Pivot. Two strides – he had a massive file cabinet and it blocked the western wall. Turn. Three strides back.
“Bobby.”
He came out from behind the desk and intercepted me on my third lap. “Come on, kid. You know as well as I do that I’ve got a job that needs to be done.”
I shot him a look.
Yeah. He had a job. His job, too often, involved questions or actions that were embarrassing as hell, but dignity wasn’t a part of my life anymore. I’d given up that right when I’d taken a life. I got to piss in a cup on a regular basis, and any time some cop decided he didn’t like the look of me, I ended up with my face against the wall while he searched me for weapons or drugs.
“I know you’re doing your job,” I said levelly. Turning my head, I stared out the window as I answered his question. “No, I’m not being paid to have sex with Carly Prince.”
Then, because I was worried about her, I slid her a look. Her eyes were snapping and hot, staring lasers straight into Detoine’s head. But he was still looking at me.
I sighed, “Hell, just look at her. You think she needs to pay somebody for sex? Men would sell their soul to share her bed.” The last bit just slipped out, but I didn’t take it back.