Page 14 of Hot Lap
"Here. These too." He offers her the water and the pain meds.
“Thanks.” Maiken takes the pills and downs the water while pressing the cold cloth to her forehead. She grimaces. “So where the hell am I, did we fuck, and did I enjoy it?"
"Whoa, no. Wynn Hotel, my suite. We crashed out fully clothed." He sits beside her again. "Nothing happened beyond sleep. What parts of last night are you tracking?"
She squints at him, then nods and peers around the luxurious suite. "Laughing my ass off. An arcade, I think? A driver named… Hector, right?” Reece nods and she asks, “Did we break into a bakery or something?"
"No breaking and entering, just a 24-hour place." He smiles, relieved she remembers some of it. Then his gaze lands on her wrist as she adjusts the ice pack. Five dark bruises mar her pale skin, and a rush of pure rage makes the blood pound in his ears. "Your wrist."
Maiken lowers the ice and frowns at the purple-blue fingermarks. "Damn. That's thanks to your asshole non-friend. I totally forgot about that."
Reece takes her hand, turning it to examine the damage. His jaw tightens. "Should've broken his fucking fingers right there. No question." That’s the same certainty he applies to racing decisions — direct, no hesitation.
"You stopped him." She pulls her hand back. "Look, I should?—"
Pounding on the door interrupts her and she startles.
"Reece! Open this goddamn door!"
"Fuck me." Reece stands. He doesn’t want Graham in the room being an asshole to Maiken, but before he can move, the electronic lock clicks and the door swings open.
Ah, fuck.Why didn’t he throw the security latch? Bloody rookie mistake, that.
Graham Pritchard strides in like he thinks he owns the place. He stops abruptly, taking in the scene: Reece standing by the bed, Maiken sitting up with an ice pack to her head, still in yesterday's clothes. His lip curls as his gaze narrows.
Reece steps forward. "This isn't your?—"
Graham cuts him off with a sharp gesture. His gaze goes from contempt to malice. "Get out, slut. Now."
"Excuse me?" Maiken lowers the ice pack, eyes wide, voice instantly angry.
"You heard me." Graham sounds venomous. "Whatever he paid you, consider it enough. Get your shit and get the fuck out."
"Don't you fucking talk to her like that." Reece steps between them. "You don't know shit about her."
His father sneers. "I know an opportunistic whore when I see one."
"That's my wife you just insulted."
“Wife?”Maiken and Graham repeat the word simultaneously. She sounds shocked. He sounds disgusted.
With slow deliberation, Mai slides off the bed and takes her purse from the nightstand. Her cheeks are red, eyes hard andglittering. Reece wonders if she’s going to punch Graham in the mouth before he can. He’s perfectly okay with giving her the first shot.
He reaches for her, but she skirts his touch. “Mai, wait. Please. You don’t have to leave.”
Graham jabs a finger at him. “Shut up.”
She crosses the room to where she kicked off her boots and pulls them on, unhurried and in complete control. She straightens, smooths down her clothes, and runs her fingers through her wild hair. Then she lifts her chin. Mai regards Graham with the iciest gaze Reece has ever seen aimed at the man, and sniffs dismissively. “No wonder your son hates you. You’re a real piece of shit.”
Graham’s brows arch and Reece thinks he’s actually surprised.
Reece goes to her. "I want you to stay."
She’s in the doorway now, but pauses to look at him, and he hates the anger and hurt behind her gaze.
“I didn’t come here to be part of your daddy revenge porn, Reece Pritchard.” Then she walks out, slamming the door behind her.
Graham's lip curls. "At least she knows when to make an exit."
