Resonance of Stars (Greenstone Security #5) - Anne Malcom Page 0,17

time we’d spoken today apart from bathroom requests. And let me tell you, having to ask the hostile, tight-lipped man protecting you from murder to stop so you could pee at a filthy gas station was not fun.

Nor were the accommodations the night prior.

Now, I was well practiced at sleeping in squalor. Especially in those shitty, roadside motels that either charged by the hour or by the month. Half my childhood was spent in one or the other, where I’d never known Egyptian-cotton, new clothes—or clothes that fit—a clean bathroom, or full stomach.

When I turned eighteen, I vowed to myself that I would never stay in one of those places again. That I’d never try to wash myself in a shower that only made me feel a little less dirty. That I’d sleep in sheets made for royalty.

I’d managed it for over a decade.

And when Duke pulled into the motel outside of Utah, I knew my promise to myself would be broken. I couldn’t exactly request the nearest Four Seasons. No, I would not cement his opinion of me.

So I sucked it up—the greasy food that I barely touched and he didn’t comment on, the room I shared with him with scratchy sheets and a dirty bathroom. I didn’t sleep a wink with the TV blaring and knowing he was right there in the other bed, quietly seething.

We spoke as little as possible. It made me uncomfortable, which I was sure was his goal, so I did my best not to let it show.

I didn’t like talking to strangers, as a rule. I especially should not like talking to the man who was only little more than a stranger, was macho as fuck, and somehow fascinating to me, despite the fact that macho man was so not my type.

My type was groomed, rich and distant.

And dead, as it was.

Duke was definitely as silent as the dead since he ignored my question. This annoyed me. A lot. Sure, he didn’t like me, he had good reason. I was a superior bitch to him when he’d worked for me, because I’d found him too attractive. It was my defense mechanism. I sensed that he could be dangerous if I let myself be nice to him, if I even opened up the possibility of him liking me. No, the worst thing would be trying to be myself with him—whoever the heck that was—and him rejecting me anyway. It was much safer for him to reject who I pretended to be rather than who I really was.

But he was also being paid by me. Handsomely. He took this job. This was his choice. No one was holding the proverbial gun to his head, he could’ve said no. He didn’t. Therefore he might not have to like me, but he did have to answer my questions.

“You really need to stop acting like I’m you’re captive,” I snapped. “I did not force you to be here, I did not drag you away from your gym, from your infidels you have been no doubt beating into submission, or your no doubt soft, kind, and loving girlfriend.” I ignored the pang I got thinking about some faceless woman I was instantly jealous of. “I get you don’t like me. The feeling is mutual. But I witnessed a murder. My life is being ruined. I think I deserve to know where the fuck we’re going.”

I hadn’t meant to say all of that. No, I had. Because I was angry. At Duke, sure. But at the world mostly. At this whole fucking situation. At me for deciding to stop by Salvador’s house for a fucking orgasm instead of going straight home.

Having cameras follow you around constantly, people sending me hatred on social media, other people in “real life” being rude or condescending, I was well versed at keeping ahold of my temper. Keeping ahold of everything, in fact. I’d gotten an Oscar plus two Golden Globes for my work in movies, but I should’ve gotten them all for my acts in life.

Duke had stopped looking at the road. He was now staring at me. No more professional distaste on his face. He was irritated, but interested. He was likely considering whether he’d still have his job if he just dumped me on the side of the road.

I was fixated on him. His eyes. The connection between us that was annoyance and dislike. I was also ashamed at how deep it cut, his dislike. How much I longed to be the