Out of Control Read Free Page B

“I’m…I’m, uh, sorry to have interrupted you.”
    He shrugged. Waited.
    â€œYour kata looks great,” she offered. “You’ve got amazing technique. I’m no expert, but…well, wow. It’s just beautiful.”
    Courtesy demanded some polite acknowledgment of this remark, but all he could manage was a grunt and a nod. She waited in vain for him to pick up his cue. He clenched his teeth and concentrated on clamping down on his body’s physiological response. The biofeedback equivalent of trying not to think about a pink elephant.
    Her cheeks flushed pinker. “I, ah…I had a couple questions for you, actually. I heard you’re a private investigator, and—”
    â€œWho’d you hear it from?”
    She looked taken aback at his curt tone. “That blond guy who teaches the kickboxing classes here. He told me that you—”
    â€œSean,” he said. “My brother. Never could keep his mouth shut.”
    A perplexed crease appeared between her straight dark brows. Probably wondering how he could possibly be related to Sean, the quintessential calendar pinup male with the flirtatious charm to match. There wasn’t much resemblance between the two of them, other than the dirt-blond shade of their hair and their bizarre background.
    â€œOh.” Her voice was cautious. “Is it some big secret, then?”
    The thought of Sean chatting Margot up made his jaw clench. The fact that his reaction was stupid and irrational made him even angrier, like an endless feedback loop. “I’m phasing that business out. I’m still licensed, but I’m not taking on any new clients. As Sean knows damn good and well.”
    â€œOh.” Her voice was subdued. “Why are you phasing it out?”
    He crossed his arms over his bare chest and longed for his jacket, which was draped over the weight rack all the way across the room.
    â€œBoredom. Burn-out.” He made his voice curt and dismissive. “I’m moving on to other things.”
    Her eyes dropped. She took a step back, chilled.
    It was working. He’d put her off. She wouldn’t be back. Exactly what he’d intended. All according to plan.
    So why did he feel like such an asshole?
    â€œI see. Sorry I bothered you, then,” she mumbled as she turned away. “I won’t take up any more of your time—”
    â€œWait,” he heard himself say.
    She turned back slowly. Her face looked pale in the fading twilight. Her hair was cinched into a clip, a wild explosion of spiky wisps up top. Those hollows beneath her high cheekbones were new. She’d lost weight in the last few days, and her pallor confirmed what he’d suspected the minute he saw her. That dull, dark brown hair color was false, like her name, her driver’s license, everything about her.
    She looked different tonight. Fragile. An image of Kevin flashed through his mind, triggering a dull ache of pain. His younger brother, killed years ago when he ran his truck off a cliff. Davy had been in the Persian Gulf at the time, but he’d dreamed of his brother the night before he got the news. He’d seen a shadow lying over Kevin’s face.
    Margot Vetter had a shadow like that hanging over her tonight.
    He was deviating from his script. The woman was trouble he did not need. A walking, breathing question mark. He had enough to deal with, with the new business he was starting up.
    Margot Vetter’s checkered past was not his business, no matter how curious he was. He didn’t need to know what she was running from, what responsibilities she was evading. With his constant efforts at self-mastery, he’d be damned if he would let his dick drag him into the snakepit of somebody else’s bad decisions and rotten judgment.
    No more rescue missions, either. He’d tried the hero routine years ago, with Fleur, and had fuck-all to show for it.
    Unless you counted the