Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

She ran down the deserted street, the party echoing into the night behind her and when she reached the loaner, yanked on the door but it wouldn’t budge.

Mother. Fucker.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She tried all four doors, but all four doors were locked. Fuck. She hadn’t brought a bag so she’d left the keys under the front seat. Along with her cell.

And then like an idiot, had locked the doors.

Double fuckedy-fuck-fuck.

Betty leaned against the passenger door, defeated. She just couldn’t seem to do anything right.

With a sigh, she turned and started toward Main Street, her eyes on the sky. If she was lucky she’d make it home before the storm hit.

“Betty.” Beau Simon’s deep voice slid from the shadows, followed by six feet four inches of Hollywood gold. He held up his hands, palms out. “I’m not stalking you. I promise.”

“What the hell do you want, Beau?” She snapped, irritated, tired and more pissed off than she’d been in a long time. “I don’t get it. You don’t even like me.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Can you be honest?” Betty’s mind rolled back and she hoped she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“Jesus, Beau. Don’t hold back now. From what I remember, you like to say what’s on your mind even when you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

Beau walked toward her, his ball cap gone, his long hair waving wildly about his face and curling down over his collar. His teeth flashed white in the dim lighting, emphasizing his dimple. God, the man was beautiful.

And so, very, very, bad for her.

He wanted to be honest?

Well, Betty needed to remember just how much his ‘honest’ hurt. She had to pull that shit out of the box she’d locked it in and let it slide under her skin and live there for a bit. For as long as he was going to be around.

She needed to remember what he’d done to her and how she’d hit rock bottom because of it. She needed to remember the things he’d said. Let those words rest in her ear.

Junkie.

Wannabe.

Director’s whore.

Beau Simon had managed to do what no one else had ever done—not even the ghosts from her past had made her feel like less than nothing.

But he couldn’t know.

No.

He would never know what he’d cost her. That was something she would keep buried as long as she had to. Because when men knew such things, it gave them power. And Betty had learned long ago never to give a man power over her. No matter what.

It’s what she did.

It’s how she survived the mess that was her life.

Chapter Four

“CAN WE TALK someplace?” Beau watched her closely.

Something had gone on back there with those guys and he wasn’t sure he’d gotten a good read on it. Didn’t matter. Her business was her own and he’d heard enough to know they weren’t strangers. Betty Jo Barker was no damsel in distress.