Page 11 of James (Big Northwest #6)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JAMES

“ O H SHIT.” HER eyes dropped to the spot on his side where she’d seen the long scar marring his tanned skin. “A chick stabbed you? Why?”

It was the kind of move she normally applauded. But it was difficult to imagine Phillip doing something to deserve such an… outburst.

“It’s a long story.” He turned onto the ramp leading to the interstate they’d been following all morning. “But basically my dad’s ex-wife didn’t expect me to get between them.”

“Your stepmother stabbed you?” The anger she always struggled to contain flared. “How old were you?” Imagining a little Phillip being hurt by someone who should have protected him had her hungry for blood. Eager to dish out an equal amount of suffering. “Where is she now?” There was no hiding the growl in her voice. Not that she tried.

“Calm down.” He reached for her, resting one hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It was right after I started my company.” His eyes met hers and the hand flexed on her leg again. “My father was my first client. He thought his new, much younger wife was having an affair.”

James put her hand over his, holding tight like it was a tether that could keep her from falling into the pool of rage that had gotten her into the mess Phillip was trying to clean up.

“Was she?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “But not nearly as much as my dad was cheating on her.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Why even get married if you’re just going to cheat on each other?” Her own father had been an adulterer. His plan of spreading his genetics far and wide wouldn’t work well if he only procreated with one woman, so he fucked as many of them as he could. There was no telling how many half siblings she had out in the world.

Could be hundreds.

“My best guess is they were in lust.” Phillip’s posture stiffened the smallest bit. “Most people have a hard time telling the difference between love and lust, and my father is one of them.”

She chewed her lower lip as the anger that frequently fed her dissipated, making room for an old sadness. She carried it for a woman she’d only met once and would never remember.

“From what I’ve been told, my mother loved my father.” She considered what Phillip just explained. “Desperately. Probably a lot like lust, but also almost an obsession.” And he’d used it against her. Manipulated her emotions for his own benefit. “But he never loved her. She was just there to take care of him and push out sons.” She snorted at the middle finger the universe delivered Mehir. “And she only had girls. Not a single boy to carry on his legitimate line. That’s how he justified being with other women. My mother couldn’t give him what he needed.”

“He needed sons?” Now it was Phillip who sounded angry. “He’s not a fucking duke and this isn’t the fucking regency era.”

“He’s not anything but dead.” James smiled a little at the reminder that the man who’d done so much damage couldn’t hurt anyone again. “But he believed his genes were stronger when they passed to a boy since—” She caught herself before spilling the secret her family harbored.

But would it really hurt anything if she told Phillip? Like he said, the men chasing her knew she was more. They didn’t know exactly what, but they knew there was something there. If Phillip knew what it was, it might give him an edge. Might help him understand what was at stake.

“Since the men in my family aren’t exactly the same as the women.” The weight she’d carried her whole life lightened the tiniest bit at the confession.

“In what way?” Phillip’s eyes came to where she sat, skimming over her body before flicking away. “Besides the obvious.”

“Well…” She smoothed down her hair, a little nervous over how Phillip would see her once he knew the genetics she carried. “They’re a little… scarier.”

Phillip snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true.” Now that she’d started, it felt important that Phillip believed her. “When they get mad they turn into an animal.”

“Still not seeing the difference.” Phillip’s lips held a hint of a smile when he looked at her. “Don’t forget you considered killing me the first time we met.”

He wasn’t getting what she was saying. He was thinking figuratively instead of literally. “I mean a real animal. They get bigger and stronger and grow hair all over their bodies. An actual animal .” The rest of the air rushed from her lungs with the last word.

On one hand it felt good to let it out. To purge the secret staining her existence.

On the other, it might be an admission she regretted. Phillip could easily use it against her. Could turn on a dime and see her as a commodity to use and exploit just like every other man. The thought had her stomach churning and regret biting at her insides.

Phillip’s lips tipped down into a thoughtful frown as he steered them down the highway. After a few long seconds he shook his head. “Still not seeing how that’s any scarier than you crushing a man’s legs with a car.”

Relief bubbled up and out, bringing along a slightly hysterical laugh. It was followed by another. And then more. Until she was clutching her middle, cackling like crazy.

Phillip laughed along with her, his chuckle deep and rich. “I’m serious.” His hand squeezed the spot it never left. “Do you have any idea how terrifying women are?” He lifted his arm without moving his hand, looking down at the spot where a scar hid beneath the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Because I do.”

Why did she feel flattered by that? It wasn’t technically a compliment, but coming from Phillip, it felt like one. “My dad was disappointed we were all girls.”

“Honestly, that’s probably better. Because if he knew what he’d had…” Phillip’s hand tightened on her thigh. “Things probably would have gone a lot differently for you and your sisters.”

It was difficult to imagine her father ever looking at her with anything but disappointment and disdain. He’d truly felt women were only good for one thing, and he’d planned to put them to use.

“I remember when I saw on the news that he’d been killed. I didn’t believe it at first.” By that time she was already on the run, doing her best to avoid anything that had to do with her sisters, but there was no avoiding a news story about a former religious guru and cult leader returning from the dead to kidnap his daughter.

Only to be sent back to the dead. For real this time.

“Sam’s husband is the man who shot him.” Phillip offered up another bit of the information she was so desperate for. “And I’m sure he’d love to recount the whole experience for you since you missed it.”

An ache bloomed in her chest. “Is he nice?”

“Nice?” Phillip tipped his head from side to side as he considered. “I’m probably not the best one to answer that question. The last time our paths crossed he also seemed to consider killing me.” He flashed her a devilish grin. “But I don’t hold that against you, so I guess I shouldn’t hold it against him.” Phillip’s expression turned thoughtful again. “But he treats your sister well and it appears he loves both Sam and Lily deeply.”

She tried to imagine it but couldn’t. “It’s hard for me to believe a man can be nice to a woman.” Her eyes fell to her lap, where Phillip’s hand warmed her skin. “Without ulterior motives.”

“Do you think I have ulterior motives?” Phillip’s question was soft. Free of judgment. Only curiosity.

It still wasn’t easy to answer. “I don’t know.” She turned to look out the window. “My sisters paid you to find me, so I guess that counts.”

Phillip didn’t respond for a minute, but when he did, his words were almost hesitant. “The money your sisters gave me ran out months ago, James.”

Her head snapped his direction. She must not have heard him correctly. “What?” She sat up straighter. “Then why are you here?” It was a question she’d asked him before and didn’t get a real answer to. She’d given him a pass then, but now?

Now he was going to have to give her something because why in the hell would he be going through all this if it wasn’t for money?

“It’s complicated.” Phillip pulled his hand from her thigh and raked it through his hair. “I?—”

The sound of his phone ringing through the speakers of the SUV cut off his explanation. She was tempted to pick the thing up and chuck it out the window, but the name flashed across the screen in the dash stalled her hand.

It was Nathan. Phillip’s assistant. He was probably calling because they found something. And that had her stomach bottoming out and her determination to discover Phillip’s motives withering.

Phillip seemed as annoyed by the interruption as she was. His finger stabbed at the screen, connecting the call. His tone was sharp when he answered, “Yeah?”

“Uhh…” Nathan seemed thrown off. “You told me to call if we found anything, so I’m calling.”

Phillip shifted in his seat, leaning his body away from her. “What did you find?”

“We’ve been able to confirm a few of the names on the list are currently out of the county. Are you good with us removing them from the pool?” Nathan asked.

Phillip’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “One of the guys told James they were taking her to their boss, so unless they have access to a private plane, we can eliminate anyone who wasn’t within driving distance.”

“Got it.” Nathan paused, the tension carrying through the phone. “We’re being as careful as we can, but you know there’s a chance one of these men will find out you’re looking into them and it won’t be good.”

Again, she was hit with a litany of unexpected emotions. Guilt. Worry. Fear.

Not for herself, but for a man. For Phillip.

“I know.” Phillip’s hand hovered over the disconnect spot on the screen. “Call me when you find more.” He ended the call. His posture was stiff as he focused on the road, jaw clenched tight.

“You—”

“I know I can walk away, James.” He faced her. “And I’ve told you that’s not going to happen.” Phillip stared at her a second longer before turning his eyes back to the windshield. “We’ll be at the hotel Nathan booked for us in about an hour.”

She nodded, as thrown off by his current mood as she was by her own.

Empathy for a man wasn’t a regular sort of thing for her to wrangle, and it was uncomfortable. Like a pair of underwear that was too tight. Or a bra with the wire stabbing you in the tit. Not pleasant.

Hating men had been her MO for so long, not hating one was foreign and unsettling. Not only because it was new, but because it gave Phillip power.

And she’d decided to never give away her power.

The only option was to find a way to get it back. To dig into the man next to her until she found something that could make her hate him just a little. Just enough that she wouldn’t care how this affected him. Wouldn’t feel bad that his life was so infiltrated by hers. Wouldn’t feel guilty that he’d spent his own money to pull her from the clutches of men determined to prove she wasn’t nearly as strong as she thought.

And enough she wouldn’t want to find his father’s ex-wife and rip every hair out of her head for hurting him.

“Are you hungry?” Phillip seemed a little calmer. A little more like himself.

She shrugged. “I can wait until we get to the hotel.”

Because it was impossible to look at him and hate him, she closed her eyes, shuffling down in the seat like she was going to nap.

Instead she was making a list of all the reasons she should hate Phillip Foster.

By the time they reached the hotel, she was in an even worse mood. Phillip Fucking Foster was making her life so much harder than it had to be.

Because the man wasn’t easy to hate.

How was that even possible? She’d found reasons to hate most men within minutes of making their acquaintance. The longer she was in their presence, the longer the list got.

But with Phillip, the more time she spent with him, the more she was starting to think he might not be awful, despite the dick hanging between his legs. Not that she’d gotten any closer to it than she had the first time they met. And that was starting to feel disappointing too.

The whole damned thing was a mind fuck of epic proportions.

Phillip pulled into a spot near the entrance and collected his bags from the back, along with everything they’d bought at the store for her. He didn’t let her carry a single thing as they went into the lobby.

How could he even maneuver that much at once? He made it look easy to juggle his rolling suitcase, garment bag, and at least six plastic bags of her stuff.

Impressive, but not hate inducing.

After checking in, he finally let her carry something, putting her in charge of their keycard as they rode the elevator to the third floor. Finding their room, she swiped the plastic rectangle across the sensor and pushed inside.

To find they were in another king room.

Fucking fuck. How was she supposed to hate him when he was a cuddler? When he was warm and snuggly, and his arms banded tight around her middle made her feel safe.

“I think Nathan got his wires crossed.” Phillip frowned at the bed. “This was supposed to be a queen room.”

“It’s fine.”

Her mouth worked all on its own. Honestly, her brain wasn’t doing any better. It was already imagining what they could wrestle over. If she might end up on top of him again, the hard length of his cock pressed between her thighs.

“I’ll make sure he knows for the next one.” Phillip’s movements were stilted as he placed his suitcase onto the folding rack and flipped it open. “There’s plenty of room in here for your things.” He eyed where he’d left the bags on the dresser. “I’m going to go make a call and then we can get something to eat.” He turned, going to the door. Pausing with one hand on the knob, he barely looked her way. “I’ll be right back.”

Then he was gone.

What the fuck? Why was he suddenly being so weird?

Maybe he wouldn’t be so hard to hate after all.

She went to the bags and dug into them, almost violent as she tore into toothbrush packages and ripped off tags. By the time she was done, there was a pile of trash on the dresser, but she had all her clothes folded and put away and her toiletries were in the bathroom, ready for her shower.

But Phillip was still gone and she was starting to get hungry.

“Right back my ass.”

She dug around her insides, expecting to find at least a grain of irritation. Maybe annoyance. Something she could plant that might grow into the hate she was hoping for.

Instead she found worry. Concern.

Fear.

“Fucking hell.” Grabbing her key card, she stomped out into the hall. “I’m going to kill him.”