BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance (11 page)

I
’d been
up all night fighting the sandman. Maybe it was the altitude or maybe it was all this tension with Isa, but whatever it was, I was fucking miserable. My already short-circuited nerve endings prickled my skin, my head pounded, and my stomach churned.

I snuck downstairs and was shocked to notice that Isa’s bedroom door was wide open when the other night it had been shut.

She eventually emerged from her room, her hair wild, her skin flushed. My cock rose to attention.

“Did I oversleep?”

“No, babe. It’s fine. What would you like to do today?”

She yawned and sat on the sofa, her nipple buds pressing against her tank top. “I was thinking we could just get brunch.”

Fuck. I’d been hoping for Chinese takeout, Netflix, and sex. But I wanted to make her happy. “Sounds good. There’s a great restaurant on the water in South Lake Tahoe.”

“Okay. Great. I’m going to take a shower and get ready.”

I showered in my room, dressed, and waited downstairs for her.

“Woman, we’re leaving in five fucking minutes. Get your sexy ass down here.”

Isa ran down the stairs, her hair framing her heart-shaped face. Tight jeans showed off her perky ass and it took every ounce of strength not to throw her over the dining room table and take her right then and there. Claim her as mine forever.

I smacked her on the ass and gave her a kiss. It was a sweet, normal moment, like she was my girlfriend.

I locked up the Tahoe home, a gnawing in my stomach. I hadn’t been out in public unmasked for months, outside of my doctors’ appointments, military check-ins, and that quick run to the store yesterday. She clutched my hand, as if she could sense my discomfort.

We climbed into the truck and made a pit stop to feed our caffeine addictions.

We drove in silence for around forty minutes as Isa took in the scenery and I zoned out to the music.

But something was bothering me. My gut felt she was hiding something, and I really wanted to get to know her better. Time to do some intel. “So tell me about your mom.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

“I read online that you found her body. Did they ever catch the guy who killed her?”

“What makes you think it was a guy?” Her voice was sharp and irritated.

“Because men are more likely to kill people.”

She bit her lip. “What, are you a cop now? Why do you care so much?”

Fuck it. “For someone who thinks I need therapy, you sure get angry when the tables are turned. Forget I asked.”

She lowered the window and exhaled. “Sorry. I just don’t like to talk about it.”

I understood. Completely. “It’s fine. So what about your ex partner? Is he still hung up on you?”

“Pasha? No, we never dated. We danced together as teens, won some championships. He wanted to be a professional dancer, and I didn’t. We ended our partnership when I left the show, which is for the best. He wasn’t there for me when my mom died, and didn’t defend me to the tabloids when they were printing lies about me. We’re not friends or anything, but we don’t hate each other.”

I studied her face. She spoke flatly, little emotion toward her memory of him, a guy she’d spent years with pursuing her dreams. It made me think she was cold, closed off. Same way she was with me. Only time she’d been raw with me was when she’d admitted that she’d stolen my bullet. I was used to overly emotional women. “Have you had serious boyfriends?”

Now she turned away from me, gazing distantly. “Not really. I dated some guy in college but it didn’t work out. No major drama. What about you? Have you ever had a serious relationship?”

I pounded back my coffee. It was my fault for walking into this line of questioning. I actually hated hearing about a woman’s exes, imagining them fucking her. But I’d only asked her because I wanted to see if we had the same views on relationships. Wasn’t this what all women wanted? Intimacy? Fine, I’d play. “Once. We started dating before I’d deployed. I thought I was in love at the time, but it was bullshit. She couldn’t stand the sight of me after my injuries, not that I could blame her.”

Now she turned her attention back to me, her hand placed firmly on my thigh.

“I’m sorry. But Grady, it’s in your head. You know that, right?”

“What’s in my head?”

“Your perception that no one could love you because of your appearance. I’m sure most people see you how I see you—strong, sexy, masculine, invincible. I just want you to know that no matter what happens with us, I think any woman would be so lucky to have you in her life.”

She caressed my face and I resisted the urge to kiss her. I wouldn’t allow her to penetrate my soul, get under my skin. Her words were nice to hear, but I refused to believe them for they couldn’t possibly be true. I was afraid to let her care about me, because I was still certain she would eventually leave.

I pushed her hand off of me, accelerated the truck and sped down the freeway. Being around Isa was just like being stuck in one of my PTSD group therapy appointments, but at least it had included the added hope of sex. I didn’t want to have to think about my feelings, about the past, about my buddies. I only wanted to forget.

We pulled into the parking lot of the Riva Grill. I wished for a second that I had a mask to wear. I adjusted my baseball cap lower on my face, pressed my sunglasses down, and prepared to face the world.

Isa attempted to open her door, but I stopped her. I jumped out of my truck and walked around to open it for her.

She smiled and hopped out of the car. I wanted to spoil her, make her feel like a princess. Show her that I could be a normal guy.

I took her arm and we walked through the little shops on the way to the restaurant. My eye scanned the tourists, assessing any threats. I couldn’t help myself.

A little boy around three years old pointed at me, “Mama, is he monster?”

His mom shushed him, gave me a sympathetic smile, and pulled him toward her. I kept my chin up, not knowing how to respond. Isa’s grip remained tight on my arm.

The hostess seated us, a table with a view of the dock. I would’ve preferred a secluded booth.

As we were perusing our menus, someone dropped a glass behind me. My heart raced. All my nerve endings prickled as adrenaline jolted my system. I clenched my hands into fists around the menu, struggling to keep my breath anywhere close to steady. This was a mistake. I needed to go home.

Isa took my hand. “Are you okay?”

Despite the riot battling inside my body, I replied, “Yup.”

We ordered, and as I was sipping my beer and feeling a little calmer, I heard a voice behind me.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you. Are you by any chance Sergeant Grady Williams?”

I turned around and saw a tall man with white hair wearing a red Marine Corps cap.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

“Well, son, it’s an honor to meet you. I told my wife it was you when you walked in the restaurant. A real American hero, that’s what I said. Would you mind if I took a picture with you?”

I couldn’t say no; I had a soft spot for old Marine vets. “Of course, sir.”

His wife snapped a picture of us, the flash momentarily blinding me. The gentleman turned his attention to Isa. “You must be a special young lady to be with a man like Grady.”

I sat back down and the waitress brought our food. Isa was glowing.

“Wow, how cool was that? People worship you.”

“He’s probably a vet. I was happy to take a picture with him, but I really hate the attention.”

“Oh, I understand. I used to hate it too, but I guess I eventually became used to it.”

I wanted to finish my food and get out of here before my anxiety heightened and I freaked the fuck out. I sipped my beer, hoping no one else would recognize me.

After we shared a peach cobbler, I was ready to bounce. I called the waitress over and asked for the bill.

“That gentleman took care of your bill. He told me how you saved all these lives in Iraq.”

Wow, that had never happened to me before. I turned to thank the gentleman, but he’d gone. I threw down a tip and walked out with Isa.

We looked into a gift shop, which was randomly filled with patriotic toys so I bought her a Marine Corps bear that sang the Marine Hymn. I checked my watch and realized we needed to get back to the lake house before sunset.

I’d been avoiding sunsets since Iraq, unable to handle the triggers that reminded me of the night my life, as I knew it, ended.

I opened the truck door for her, and she climbed in. Before I closed the it, she wrapped her arms around me. “Thanks, Grady, for bringing me here. It’s so beautiful.”

She was so beautiful. I was stretching my comfort zone for her, but I couldn’t shake the sense that our next public outing wouldn’t be so easy.

I
opened
Isa’s door the next morning and watched her sleep. Her chest heaved and she made these cute little sighs. I didn’t want to sleep next to her, afraid something would startle me and I’d wake up with my hands wrapped around her throat, thinking she was an enemy. I hadn’t allowed myself to sleep next to a woman in years.

Isa stretched in the bed and opened her eyes. Her lips widened into a smile when she saw me. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sexy.”

The doorbell rang, and Isa jumped.

“Are you expecting anyone?” she asked, her voice weak.

“Nope.” I stood up and walked over to the security cameras. Some young, cheese-dick-looking guy stood outside. Despite the fact that it was eighty degrees, this douchebag wore a black V-neck shirt, skinny jeans, and a fitted leather jacket. Once his face came into focus, I recognized him as Pasha, Isa’s ex partner.

Isa came over to me and peeped over my shoulder. “That’s Pasha, my old partner. What on earth is he doing here?”

I gritted my teeth. “How does he even know you’re here? Do you still talk to this guy?”

Isa’s eyes widened. “No.” Her face turned blush. “But . . . I did see him recently. I went to the studio to ask Benny, the producer, if he could help get me on the show so I could pay for my tuition but he wasn’t there. Pasha was though. He said there was no way, unless some celeb requested me.” She paused and I was certain she was keeping something from me. “But that was before I asked you about my dad writing your memoir. I haven’t spoken to him since that day.”

So had she been able to get on the show, I probably would’ve never seen her again. She asked me about the book because she was desperate and had no choice. Fine, I refused to let that bother me. We were here now, and I was going to try my damnedest to make her happy.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll handle him.”

I opened the door. His skin was tight and my first thought was that he resembled an alien. It immediately struck me that his pale blue eyes seemed hollow. His mouth stretched into a sleazy smile, and he immediately eye-fucked Isa. Hell, no. I wanted to deck him, but I controlled my temper.

He stuck out his hand to me. “It is the pleasure to meet together with you, Grady. I’m Pasha Gravilov.”

I shook his hand, noting that his grip was weak and insincere.

He embraced Isa in an awkward hug, and she quickly escaped his grasp and clung to my side.

“Privet,
Bellichka
. Now I understand it is that you rejected the offer from me”

What offer? Isa squeezed my arm and whispered to me. “He asked me to teach at his studio.” She turned to Pasha, her body remaining by my side. “How on earth did you know I was up here? Did you just drive up from LA?”

He let out a deep laugh. “I went to see your old man and he told to me where it is I find you. I am smart man so I put two and two together.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Only reason you did agree to work together with her dad is to get to Isa,
da
?”

I stared Pasha down. “That’s it, buddy. I’m not sure why you’re here, but it’s time for you to leave before I throw you out.”

Pasha ignored me, plowed past us, and made himself right at home, sitting on the sofa.

“It is a beautiful place, Grady.”

“Why are you here exactly? I’m giving you five minutes before I kick your ass out.”

He slicked his hand through his greasy hair. “What is it your plans with the Marines?”

Here we go.

“I’m getting medically retired. After that, no clue.”

His gaze shifted. He wanted something from me. “The producer, he has his eye on you. You could do show, dance with beautiful woman, make money. How does that sound?”

I swallowed hard; though I could barely understand him with his thick accent and broken English, I knew one thing for sure—this guy saw me as a meal ticket, just like Isa had seen me as a pity fuck. “I’m not interested. I just want to find something that makes me as happy as being a Marine does. This book is a one-shot deal with me. I’m not going to be your right-wing gun-toting show pony.”

I glanced over at Isa, who shook her head and muttered something under her breath.

Pasha let out a cackle that reminded me of the bleats from the goats in Iraq. “Grady, listen to me. You will get money, endorsements, TV shows. I can
make
you.”

Fuck, I already told this guy no. For a second, I wondered if Isa put him up to this shit—a way to get her back on the show. But the scowl on her face told me she was as angry with him being here as I was. I needed to get this prick to leave. “Not happening.”

“Dammit, just leave him alone,” Isa said in a sharp tone.

He leveled her with an icy scowl. “Isa, stay out of this. This is not concerning to you. Why do you not shut up and let the men talk together about business. Go pour me a coffee.”

Isa shot a cold, dead glare at him. “Fuck you, Pasha.”

Fuck this dude. I didn’t give a rat’s ass that he was on TV or he used to dance with Isa. No one was going to talk to her like that in front of me.

I grabbed him by the arm and tossed him off the sofa. “Isa’s my woman, not yours anymore. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Your woman?” Pasha’s eyes widened as he straightened his clothes. “You must be blind, also. A woman as beautiful as Isa could never love a man as hideous as you. She’s using you for money—just like she used me to dance.”

My hands wrapped around his neck and I shoved him against the door. “I may be blind in one eye but you must be deaf. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. You contact either of us again and I’ll break both your legs and you’ll never dance again.”

I released him, and he slumped to the floor. This motherfucker wasn’t worth going to jail over.

He clenched his fist. “Good job, Isa—you will never get back on show. You left dancing together with me and now want to date this freak?” He slowly stood up. “And Grady, if you lay your hands on me again, I will have you arrested for assault.”

Ha. That was almost funny. “Assault? Go right ahead—that will be great for your public image—arrest a war hero who you begged to go on your pathetic show. I’m not afraid of you. Fuck you and fuck your show. What are you going to do? Sue me? I don’t have a fucking dime to my name and I’m about to get kicked out of the Corps. I jumped on a grenade to save my buddies’ lives—I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine, and that includes Isa. If you come by here or harass us, or you talk to her like that again, I’m going to fuck you up. Am I clear?”

His head made a slow, disbelieving shake. “Crystal. I’ll let myself out.”

Isa bit her nails, her eyes glued to her feet. I put my arm around her as her ex partner slammed the door.

I locked the door and set the alarm, then turned my attention back to Isa. Her hands were clutching her stomach.

“Hey. It’s okay.” I pressed my hand under her chin.

She gulped. “He’s just such a jerk. He only cares about himself. Always has.”

I stroked her hair. “Forget about him. I got you.”

“No, you don’t understand. He has a reason to hate me. He’s still mad because I ended our partnership right before Blackpool. We probably would’ve finaled that year.”

“He doesn’t matter.” I planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She sobbed in my arms.

After a few minutes, she abruptly stood up. “I’m going to go take a bath.”

I remembered the night I’d met her at the party, how her friend had ditched her. She hadn’t mentioned anyone else close in her life. My gut told me, that as of today, I was the only one she had.