Phobic (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #2)

by Michelle Irwin

  “Because you keep accosting me and trying to tell me how to live my life even though you’re not part of it. Like trying to make decisions about where my private photos should be shared and who I should talk to. I haven’t approached you once tonight, Beau. And I didn’t plan to.”

  He pushed away from the wall. “No. You ain’t. You’ve been spreadin’ your attentions among the other suckers instead.” He met my gaze for a moment, and as his anger faded, it was like watching someone draw curtains over windows until he was closed off to me entirely. “On second thought, darlin’, do whatever you like with Bee. Y’all deserve each other.”

  He stalked away, fading in my vision as my tears took over. Before he’d disappeared entirely, a blur of yellow—Cassidee no doubt—met him and they walked away together. Using the wall as a support, I slid to the floor as my heart danced against my ribs, each new beat more pained than the last.

  As soon as I could, I gathered myself up enough to stand. Staggering from the small alcove, I headed straight for my table. There, I grabbed my clutch and the almost full bottle of wine from the ice bucket in the middle of the table. I raced from the function room as fast as I dared in my heels. Not making the same mistake twice, I made sure to stop by the cloak room and gather up my coat.

  Juggling everything in my hands, I found my way to the quiet bench I’d sat on to call Angel. Instead of putting my coat on, I slung it over my legs as I necked the bottle of wine when my tears started to fall. It wasn’t a great way of trying to cope with the situation, but it was the only one I had.

  I’d drunk half the bottle before my heart rate had returned to normal, and long before my tears dried up.

  Even then, I didn’t stop.

  I didn’t stop until the bottle was empty and my head swam.

  Turning to sit lengthways on the bench, I drew my legs into my chest and rested my forehead on my knees. Shivers overtook me as the cold night bit through me. Even if I could have been bothered to fight my way out of my wings to put it on, my too-thin jacket wasn’t enough to provide any real warmth.

  It was time to go home.

  At least to my one in North Carolina.

  I STOOD, AND instantly saw why the bottle of wine had been a bad idea. As I tried to get my feet underneath me, my legs turned to jelly and I staggered a little. I’d never been drunk before, and the heels didn’t help.

  Holding my hands out in front of me to try to steady myself while the ground appeared to roll and pitch with every step, I moved toward the valet desk. Halfway there, it became abundantly clear that I was in no fit state to drive. There was no one else I could rely on but myself to get back to my new home though.

  I approached the valet with the intention of finding out the procedure for leaving the hire car in the park overnight and catching a taxi back to my apartment. It’d mean an out of the way trip in the morning, and probably more money than it was maybe worth, but better that than risking driving under the influence.

  Just as the valet turned to me, a hand clamped around my wrist and I was dragged away from what I was doing for the third time that evening. When I glanced up, Beau’s face swam in my vision as my head spun and my stomach lurched. With so much of his face covered, his eyes and mouth were the only points I could focus on, and I couldn’t look him in the eye any longer. With only his lips left to stare at, memories played of what those pillowed surfaces felt like when they skimmed over my body.

  “Let me go.” I shook myself out of my heated fantasy and tugged at my hand. He released me, not that it mattered because once again, he’d boxed me so my back was pressed against the wall of the hotel. His hat was missing; his hair hung loose. I wanted to clutch a piece dangling over his mask between my fingers and smooth it back into place.

  “What the heck are ya doin’ now?” The irritation in his voice was unmistakable.

  With the alcohol coursing through me and colliding with the heartbreak, I wasn’t in the mood for any of his crap. I pushed him away from me. He followed my silent direction, backing up a step. I staggered and swayed as I pushed myself upright. “Go away, Beau.”

  “You’ve been drinkin’.” He glanced over at the valet before turning back to me, his arms back in place on either side of my head. When his gaze found mine it blazed. “And you’re gonna drive?”

  The emotion in his voice and reflected in his gaze made me recoil from him. Heartbreak, disappointment, and anger all rolled through his lilting country tone. For a second, it struck me in the gut so hard I staggered back as an apology spilled from my lips. Even with everything that had happened between us, I didn’t want to cause him pain or remind him of the way he’d lost his family.

  Almost as soon as that thought struck me though, another followed. How dare he assume the worst of me? I put my hands on his shoulders and shoved him away.

  “What’s it matter to you anyway? Why don’t you go back to your li’l ray of sunshine and leave me the fuck alone.” I tried to mock his accent, but failed when my last words came out accompanied by a sob.

  Even when I tried to push him away, he didn’t move. Although he wasn’t bulky, he was muscled in a way I couldn’t fight off. Being trapped by him, unable to escape the hatred in his eyes and the venom on his tongue, made my drunk head spin even more.

  “Please go,” I sobbed, trying with everything in me not to break down in front of him.

  “Where’s your ticket?” he asked.

  I couldn’t process his words and shook my head in confusion.

  He closed his eyes and huffed. His nostrils flared as he breathed out his frustration. “Your valet ticket, Phoebe, where is it?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I ain’t lettin’ you nowhere near your car in that state.”

  It was the insinuation again. That I was so stupid I’d let myself do that. That he had to be my protector and save me from myself. “What I do is none of your goddamned business.”

  “You made it my business by tryin’ ta drive drunk, darlin’.” His face was inches from mine, and all I could do was stare at his lips and remember the feel of them against mine. Flashes of our first night together struck me. The way he’d boxed me in and pressed his lips to my throat. I was as helpless to resist him now as I had been then, despite everything that he’d done. Arsehole. “Now where’s your dang ticket?”

  I lifted my clutch and reached inside to find the valet ticket. The instant it was in my fingers, Beau snatched it from me. With one hand around my wrist and the other holding the valet ticket, he dragged me toward the valet again. Then he slammed the ticket on the counter.

  “W-what are you doing?” I asked.

  “Gettin’ your car and then drivin’ you home.”

  I shook my head. There was no way I could let him drive me. “No. I’ll get myself home.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You can hardly be trusted with responsible decisions.”

  I yanked my hand out of his hold. “It’s my life. If I want to make irresponsible decisions that’s my choice.”

  “Not when it’ll kill someone else.” His face was right in mine, the anger in his eyes clear and almost terrifying. “Now stop being a brat, would ya.”

  He might as well have slapped me with the impact his words had. I recoiled from him and clutched at my stomach. “For your information, I was going to get a taxi.”

  “Sure looked like it, darlin’, what with you stumblin’ your way over to collect your car.”

  “Just leave me alone, please?” The words each escaped with a sob. Why him? Why couldn’t Bee have been the one to see me and come to my rescue? Xavier. Anyone but Beau.

  The valet dropped the key into Beau’s palm. “It’s too late for that,” Beau answered. “Now get in the car.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He shifted so he could whisper words intended only for me. “I’m gonna get ya back to your apartment, safe and without lettin’ you harm no one else, whether ya want me to or not. Now ya have two choices: get
in the car or I’ll put ya in the car. Considerin’ there are paps lined up all the way down this road, I know which’ll be easier for you in the long run.”

  I lifted my gaze and tried to focus on the throng of people across the road. Some did appear to have cameras in their hands. It shouldn’t have surprised me; I’d known they’d be worse in the States than they were at home, and they were bad enough in Australia.

  “Fine.” I huffed and headed toward the car, but stumbled when I hit a small step I hadn’t seen.

  Beau was right there beside me as I fell. He shifted in front of me, so I collapsed against his chest as his arms came to rest around my waist. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I inhaled his scent. My eyes closed as my head spun for reasons completely unrelated to the alcohol I’d drank. God, I missed him. I missed us. I wanted him to be the sweet man I’d thought he was after my last trip to the States, and not the arsehole in front of me. Why did he have to change? Or show his true colours, whatever they were.

  Instead of thanking him for catching me, I shoved his chest to get him away from me. “Don’t touch me.”

  He muttered something behind me as I started for the passenger-side door. Trying to escape him, I yanked open the door and went to climb inside. Only, I couldn’t. Something tugged at my shoulders, and under my arms, when I tried.

  With a growl to let Beau know I was okay, that he didn’t need to help me, I tried again, stumbling as the barrier tugged at my arms again. Spinning, I went to tell Beau off for stopping me doing what he’d asked me to do.

  “Beau, would you—” I cut off when I caught a glimpse of Beau still standing near the spot where I’d stumbled into him, staring at me.

  “Umm, miss?” someone murmured from near the back of the car.

  “What?” I spun further to figure out what he wanted. As I did, one side of the wings on my back struck the car.

  Fuck.

  Beau’s teeth were in his bottom lip and amusement lit his eyes. He looked seconds away from bursting out in laughter. Fucking great! As if my embarrassment hadn’t burned strong enough as it was.

  “You—you’re wings are getting caught.”

  “Yes, I know!” I snapped, before guilt snuck in. He was just a stranger trying to help me; he didn’t deserve to be shouted at. I grabbed one of the strings of elastic, trying to coordinate my drunk arms well enough to get the tight elastic off. My struggle took me first circling in one direction, and then back in the other. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growled.

  Hands came to rest on my shoulders, stilling me in an instant. “Here, let me,” Beau said, his voice low and breathy against my neck. His hands trailed over my bare shoulders until he could snag the elastic holding the wings in place, and then he drew it down my arm. The whole way, his fingers trailed a line down my skin and his choppy breath brushed over my nape.

  My brain stopped working and I held my breath the whole time he touched me.

  As soon as I was free, and his hands had left me, my mind returned, bringing with it a rampage of emotions—each one attacking and wrecking me at once. I staggered forward and spun to face him. Snatching the wings from him, I sneered. “I had it.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sure ya did.”

  I threw the wings in through the open door and followed without waiting for anything else.

  While I waited, he moved off to talk to someone else. Fucking arsehole. Not only was he forcing me into a situation I didn’t want, he was making me wait for him.

  Needing to do something to take my mind off Beau, I started to dismantle my once perfect appearance. It wasn’t like I had any plans to go back into the ball, or a need to be presentable for anyone. There was no way I would allow Beau’s presence to intimidate me into trying to look good.

  First, I yanked the tiara out of my hair, and then tugged the decorative hairpiece out of my updo and threw them both into the glovebox. Some princess I was. Then I untangled the pins in my hair one by one, and tossed them into my bag behind the others. Once my hair was out, I grabbed the packet of sanitising wipes from the glovebox and started working to remove my make-up. Free of the pins and fasteners, my hair fell around my face in places, but was still slicked back by the hairspray and chemicals in others. The wipes had smeared the lipstick around my mouth and glitter around my face rather than removing it entirely. The tears that had fallen on and off throughout the night had streaked through my apparently waterproof mascara. I was a sight—and not a good one.

  “Loser,” I mumbled to myself. “How can you let yourself be so pathetic around him?”

  “What’s that, darlin’?” Beau asked as he slid into the driver seat.

  I debated between saying nothing and telling him off again for insisting on driving me home against my wishes. In the end though, I had to begrudgingly admit he was doing me a favour. At least I wouldn’t have to figure out a way to get back to the hotel the following morning to collect my hire car.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Can we just get this over with?”

  He sighed as he started the ignition. “I’m just tryin’ ta help.”

  “I know,” I muttered, before adding the rest, “but I don’t need your help.”

  “How’d it all get so messed up?” he asked under his breath as he peeled away his mask and dropped it onto the centre console. I’d thought he was attractive with the mask, but without it, he was the man I’d fallen in love with. I wanted to ask him to put it back on so I didn’t have to face the car ride with the ghosts of those memories between us.

  Because I figured he didn’t mean the words for me, it was easy to ignore them.

  Instead, I gave him my address as he took off. I was glad it was close and I wouldn’t have to endure a long time in the car.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That’s where I’m staying. I kinda thought you might need to know the address.”

  “Oh. Course.”

  He didn’t look up the directions or ask which way to go. It seemed he knew the way without thinking about it. It shouldn’t have surprised me; it was probably an apartment building recommended to Mum and Dad by Richards Racing.

  After a few minutes of awkward silence, he spoke again. “Why’d you let yourself get in such a state tonight? I would’ve thought with your obligation to your parents, to the team, you woulda been more responsible.”

  It was because of you! I couldn’t say those words, and admit my weakness. “I don’t need a lecture, Beau. Least of all from you.”

  “Just tryin’ ta offer some friendly advice, li’l miss. If ya don’t wanna listen, I ain’t gonna force ya.”

  I snorted. “Why not? You forced me into this.” I waved my hands at the car around us.

  “You forced my hand there. I ain’t gonna let ya get drunk and then drive. And you know why. In fact, I can’t believe you’d be so—”

  I growled to cut him off. “If you’d stopped to listen rather than ignoring everything I said, you would’ve found out I was going to get a taxi. I just needed to find out what would happen if I left my car overnight. That was why I was trying to talk to the valet.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. ‘Oh.’ I know you think I’m nothing more than a stupid and naive teenager, you’ve proven that already, but I’m not as foolish as you assume I am.” I crossed my arms in front of me and stared steadfastly out the window. If I tried to look at him, I’d cry and that would just defeat my point.

  “Look, Phoebe, I—”

  “Don’t.” I cut him off. “Just don’t. I don’t need your friendship. I don’t want your pity. There’s nothing you have to offer me that I’m interested in. Not anymore. As far as I’m concerned, we’re nothing more than teammates and track rivals.”

  His jaw ticked as he ground his teeth.

  The atmosphere in the car was stifling and I couldn’t wait for the trip to be over.

  When we arrived at my building, he used the tag to let himself in, obviously familiar with the process and confirming my suspicions there m
ight have been some sort of link to Richards Racing within the building.

  After he pulled the car into my parking spot, he sighed and turned to me.

  “You don’t know how badly I wish things coulda been different.” He lifted his hand, as if he was going to caress my cheek. I yanked my head away from him.

  Arsehole probably thought my being drunk gave him an in for a quickie before he hit the road. Maybe it could have if I didn’t know the truth about him.

  I snorted. “Sure, Beau. You’re real broken up about it all. So broken up the only logical solution was to rush off and get engaged.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his hand into his lap.

  “What happened between us,” I continued, needing to remove the barbs wrapped around my heart, “is what it is. Or was what it was, I guess. It’s done now, and I think that’s for the best.”

  The words burned as they left, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he’d shaken up my insides.

  He wouldn’t look at me. Not that I wanted him to. I wanted him gone.

  “Do I need to call you a taxi?” I asked, not wanting to give him an opportunity to stick around. I wasn’t sure how long my self-control could hold out.

  “No. Cass was following us, she’ll be waitin’ out front.”

  “Of course she will be.” I stared straight ahead out the windscreen and tried not to react to the news he’d obviously been discussing my situation with her while he’d kept me waiting.

  He touched my shoulder. “D’ya need help gettin’ to your apartment?” His voice was soft, earnest, which only made it harder to hear. It was too much of a reminder of the sweetness he’d shown when I was in the States before—the lies he’d told.

  “I think I can manage getting out of a car, Beau,” I snapped. “I’m not an invalid.”

  The instant my words left, images of his sister came to mind. My stomach twisted and my tongue tasted like I’d sipped acid. God, I was as big an arsehole as he was. Although mine was an accidental slip, that didn’t excuse it.