“You didn’t tell them the truth as soon as you saw me.”
“No,” she said, opening her eyes to look at him. “Because I didn’t want my father to feel foolish and because Rupert was sitting there… Do you want him to know what…”
Something about his mouth distracted her. Harlow didn’t realize she’d trailed off until he finished her sentence for her. “I’ve done to you? That’s why I’m here.”
“You are not going to tell him,” she said, suddenly feeling very awake. “You are not to tell any of them what we… were.”
“Are,” he corrected her. “And, I don’t care what they know about our past. I’m here about the future.”
That piqued her intrigue. “What does that mean? We don’t have a lot of money, Ryske. Anything my father makes, he puts back into the business. The house is probably worth something, but it’s all assets, we have no cash on hand, if you think I’ll—”
“What I want from your father is not his money,” he said.
Ignoring the implication and the suggestion in his eye, she changed the subject. “What does Ophelia think about you coming out here?”
“I haven’t seen much of her this week,” he said. “You know that the thing with Ophelia is bullshit. You know that better than anyone. Did you really have to bring her up at the table?”
“Yes,” she said, proud of her proclamation. “You’re the one who told everyone you were involved.”
“I was talking about you.”
“No, you weren’t,” she said, taking the washcloth and turning away from him to run it under the water again. “Now you’ve had dinner, don’t keep Noon waiting. Say your goodnights and—”
“Noon isn’t here,” he said. “I’m just me.”
Pausing, she peered around at him. “Just you?”
He nodded. “You before them.”
They were still looking into each other when someone else spoke. “Mr. Ryske,” Jean said. “Would you like a brandy?”
“A brandy,” Harlow muttered, rinsing out the cloth. “Geez, it’s one of those nights… He probably has to drive, mom. He won’t want to get drunk.”
Her father and Rupert appeared in the doorway behind Jean. “One won’t hurt,” Rupert said.
If anyone was going to be on her side, she’d expect it to be Rupert. Maybe if she accused Ryske of groping her, Rupert would be more eager to get rid of him. She was still thinking about this, folding and unfolding the washcloth when the sound of jeering brought her attention back to the conversation.
“Of course! We have a guest bedroom,” Jean said. “It makes perfect sense. You should stay for the weekend while you visit the properties you’re interested in.”
Harlow spun around to look at them all. “Uh, what?”
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Ryske said, feigning reluctance.
“Yes, he wouldn’t want to impose,” she said, straightening up. “Mom, you can’t invite random men to sleep in the house when Lena is home.”
Lena actually still lived with their parents, so she was always home.
“Oh, Harlow!” Her mother dismissed her and her father practically laughed. “Mr. Ryske isn’t a stranger, he’s our friend. There’s no need for him to be in a hotel when we are here to show him around. He’ll see plenty of properties and we can introduce him to people.”
“That would be helpful,” Ryske said, nodding. “There’s nothing as valuable as local knowledge when choosing a place to live.”
She scowled at his profile, he’d moved from next to her and was now half a step in front of her. “Your fiancée, will she be joining you?” Jean asked. “We have plenty of space.”
“No,” he said. “I’m just scoping out the area.”
“Casing the joint,” she mumbled, though she didn’t know if anyone heard her because they all ignored the comment. “Ophelia likes the city, she wouldn’t be happy here.”
“It’s a wonderful district to raise children,” Jean said. “Do you plan to have a family?”
Ryske’s laugh was self-deprecating. “I leave all that to my girl,” he said. “I just do what I’m told.”
Everyone except her laughed. “That’s what you’ve got to do,” her father said, putting a hand on Jean’s shoulder.
“If she chooses the city, that’s fine too,” Ryske said. “But, I know the city, so I can advise her on that. I don’t know this town, so I’d like to get to know it.”
“That way you can weigh the pros and cons together,” Jean said.
“The decision will be hers,” Ryske said and glanced around at her. “Her happiness is all that matters to me.”
She scowled at him, not believing him though her mother swooned. “I prefer a man with a more take charge attitude,” Harlow said.
“My girl knows I can take charge too,” he said. “She gets the best of both worlds.”
“Oh,” Jean said. “And, there’s a charity gala at the club tomorrow night. You could come as our guest, get to know some people.”
“Yes,” Ryske said.
Harlow yelped. “No,” she said and snatched for his hand.
It didn’t feel unusual to be holding Ryske’s hand. He couldn’t have thought so either because he didn’t pull away. For her parents and Rupert, it was startling. When they looked down, Ryske’s gaze followed, and then hers did too.
“Harlow?” Rupert asked. “Why shouldn’t Mr. Ryske join your father and me?”
She cleared her throat, failing to be discreet in removing her hand from his to wipe it on her hip. “It’s just… those things can be… overwhelming.”
“Nonsense,” Jean said. “He’s probably used to those sorts of events. Aren’t you, Mr. Ryske?”
“Yes,” he said. “But, if you’re worried about me, Miss Sweeting, why don’t you join us? We can all go together… look after each other.”
“Lena loves these types of events,” Jean said. “Harlow’s always more reluctant.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” Ryske asked and looked to her, which made everyone else do the same.
“Rich men bore her,” Rupert said. “That’s what she always told me.”
He said it like it was funny, but Harlow didn’t find it funny at all. “I think it’s ridiculous that they all stand around talking about how smart and wealthy they are,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tell a joke for God sakes, you know?”
“Funny men are overrated,” Lena said, squeezing between their father and Rupert to come into the room. “I like rich men.”
“And rich men like you,” Harlow said. “You’re going to be fine out there, little sister. You’ll get your millionaire, and he’ll knock you up, and you’ll both live happily ever after.”
“You’re supposed to have babies first,” Lena said, heading for the wine rack.
Rupert shifted. “Uh, maybe Mr. Ryske has a friend he could introduce you to, Lena.”
That made Harlow grin. “Yes, Mr. Ryske. Do you have any friends or are you friendless? We only want to know about the millionaires in your life… Any business owners? Maybe someone into computers or a car fanatic perhaps?”
Wearing a polite smile that he turned into a laugh when he looked to her parents, Ryske took everything in his stride. “I’m not sure my friends would be able to handle a Sweeting woman.”
“Oh, I’m nothing like Harlow, they don’t have to worry about that,” Lena said, pouring herself a large glass of wine. “Harlow’s been positively insane these last few months… She used to just lock herself in her room for days and days. We wouldn’t hear anything until she started screaming her head off in the middle of the night. Terrified us all.”
“Lena,” Jean said, though there was more warning than scolding in her voice. “Mr. Ryske doesn’t want to hear about that.”
Mr. Ryske was the reason for that, though Harlow didn’t want to admit it.
“I do. I do want to hear about it,” he said.
“You can drink brandy with my father, you can rub shoulders with sma
ll town society,” Harlow said, tossing the wash cloth into the sink. “But my screaming in the middle of the night is none of your business, Mr. Ryske.” Her mother probably intended to chastise her again, but Harlow didn’t give her the chance. “I’m going upstairs. I don’t feel well. Goodnight, everyone.”
Her bedroom had been her sanctuary when she didn’t have him and now that he was back, she was using it as a barrier. Her father and Rupert wanted to impress the man who they thought would bring them big business. Her mother loved to entertain and enjoyed showing off new acquaintances to her friends.
Harlow would go to the event, to keep an eye on Ryske and to make sure no one signed anything he asked them to. But, she was going to have to get him out of their lives and ask about the money that he owed her.
The sooner he repaid her, the better, because then they would have no need to see each other again. Though, she’d thought that before he appeared at her family’s dinner table. Ryske loved to surprise her, but she wasn’t sure how many more surprises she could take.
20
Any hopes that Harlow’s bouts of insomnia were a thing of the past were dashed that night. She’d read for a while, trying to forget that the laughter and conversation she could hear coming from downstairs involved a man who may wish her family harm.
In truth, his potentially nefarious motives weren’t why her ears were piquing at every sound. She liked it. It tore her up, but she liked knowing that he was near. It was insane. She couldn’t trust the man. She shouldn’t trust him.
Except now that the shock was subsiding, Harlow was coming to terms with the fact that the man whom she’d thought was dead was actually alive.
Ryske, who she’d cried and ached for, was alive.
She’d been in bed with her lights off by the time she heard Jean showing Ryske to the larger of the guest rooms, which happened to be the one adjacent to hers.
There had been the mumbles of quiet goodnights, movement in the guest room for a minute or so, and then silence. For hours, Harlow lay awake, trying to forget that Ryske was sleeping just through the wall. Sometimes she caught herself craning to hear if he was snoring, but it had been hours since she’d last heard any sound. Her parents had gone to bed, Lena too, and the house was quiet.
But, Harlow was still awake.
Accepting that laying in bed watching the minutes flicker away was pointless, she tossed back her covers and got out of bed to go over to the window seat. Admiring the foliage that lined the perimeter of the Sweeting property, she thought about playing out there as a child.
While being so young and innocent, it would’ve been impossible to foresee the kind of woman she’d become or the kind of man she’d fall for. It hadn’t even been on her radar that this kind of existence existed when she was a kid leaping through the sprinklers and playing with her friends.
The sound of her bedroom door opening made her head roll on the wall to shift her focus from the outside to the person who was creeping into her room. Though she hadn’t predicted it, Harlow wasn’t surprised to see Ryske closing the door as quietly as he could.
“You’re too early,” she said, startling him when he turned to face the room. Given the time, he must have expected her to be in the bed, not at the window. “If you were looking to take liberties while I was passed out, I don’t go to sleep until at least five thirty.”
“I don’t mind taking them while you’re awake.”
It was dark, but there was enough light coming from outside her window to allow them to see each other.
“We both know you didn’t come here to have sex with me,” she said, sighing and returning to the view of the backyard. “I offered it to you once, you didn’t want it.”
“I did want it, Trink,” he said. “I’ve always wanted it and you know that.”
The sincerity of his tone was surprising enough to make her turn to inspect him as he crossed the room. He chose to sit on the edge of the bed that was parallel to her position on the window seat with her legs stretched out in front of her. Still, he was a good four feet away and it wasn’t like Ryske to respect her personal space.
“You didn’t that day.”
“I did,” he said. “I wanted it from the minute we met. I’d have taken it if you’d given it up early… But, by the time you called me out… Trink, I was so fucking in love with you… I knew I had to let you go. It ripped me up, but I knew it was best for you and if I’d had you… Damnit, baby, being inside you once was never going to be enough… I’d never have been strong enough to give you up if I knew what you felt like.”
Letting her legs slide from the seat, she twisted to face him. “Why are you talking like this?”
“I’m re-learning a few things,” he said, and she was sure the smile he aimed at the floor was almost embarrassed. “My way with women has always worked. It’s always worked… I’ve never cared about it working with anyone, so I never thought that much about it… not until you. You… you don’t want it. It doesn’t work for you. You call me out on everything. Every damn little thing.”
“Faking your own death isn’t a little thing.”
That brought his head up fast. “I didn’t fake my death, and what Bale said was true. Everything that night was real. Everything. Hagan sent Animal to kill me. That shot was real, Bale working on me, the ambulance, everything I said… it was all real. It wasn’t planned or staged… I did die in that ambulance. I… I don’t remember much after telling you I loved you… Bale filled in a lot of the blanks. They worked on me in the ER, got my heart going again, and pulled me back.”
“So, he just took it upon himself to—”
“No,” he said. “Bale told me you were a wreck, that you’d lost it in the ER… he told me after. That’s why he decided to wait before telling you I was alive. He waited for me to wake up so he could check for brain injury or something… He said he didn’t want to give you false hope, and wanted to have answers to the questions he knew you’d have. So, after bringing me back and stabilizing me, he sat with me, and waited until I woke up.”
“And the first thing you said was ‘let’s play a cruel joke on Harlow’?”
Shaking his head, he didn’t seem to be enjoying this, but she couldn’t say it was in her top ten best life moments either. “I made a kneejerk decision in a moment… Bale did a bunch of tests, asked me a bunch of questions. The last question he asked was if I had a girl… I said your name, he made a joke about how you’d make me pay for scaring you.”
“You decided to be a coward.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe that’s what it was… As soon as I said your name, I thought about what we’d said, about how unsafe you were with me… Getting shot in the safest place I know, almost dying in my home, in your arms… The risk felt real. I didn’t want you to be anywhere near that kind of danger.”
Harlow didn’t want to cut him any slack, but his words rang true. It had never occurred to her to be afraid in Floyd’s after she’d gotten to know the crew. “Hagan said that to hurt you, he’d have to hurt me,” she murmured, recalling what had happened the night Hagan returned her to Ryske in the hotel.
“Yeah, and don’t think I ever forgot that for a second,” he said. “You knew it was over between us. Me getting shot didn’t make the situation any better or safer. You were always going to be better off without me, just like we’d talked about. You were going to be with Marlowe. That was the plan; that was what we’d decided.”
“What you decided,” she muttered.
“I told Bale to tell you I didn’t make it… He didn’t get it. I know he didn’t, and he argued with me. I told him to trust me; that it was for the best… This wasn’t his fault… Setting it up wasn’t hard, he just had to turn off the machines and give me a shot of something. He didn’t want to… he kept going on about how dangerous it was, how important it was to monitor me… I didn’t care. I wanted you safe… safe and free… without thoughts of us always being in the back of your mind. I didn’t want you sticki
ng around just because I’d been injured.”
Talk about playing down the drama. “You were shot, Ryske. You died,” she said. Although he’d been brought back, his heart had stopped. Technically, he had been dead. “It wasn’t just a boo-boo.”
“Exactly,” he said. “You’d have stuck around, just like you did after the stabbing. Only this time, you’d have to answer questions from cops and doctors, maybe even feds. I didn’t know what state I’d be in or if I’d be capable of looking after you. Our plan before the shooting was for you to go back to Marlowe. My injury didn’t have to change that. Telling you I was gone was supposed to make it easier for you. I figured I’d just be some secret part of your past that you could move on from. I thought you’d come back here and be happy with him. I was trying to make it easier for you. I didn’t want to drag you down… I couldn’t offer you the security you deserved. You’d never be safe with me.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said, trying to remember not to raise her voice. “It wasn’t your place to take my choice away. I make my decisions about what I want and who I want to be with.”
“It made sense in the moment,” he said, rubbing a hand across his brow. “The logic made sense.”
“And your doctor, the man who’s supposed to be level-headed and act in the best interest of his patient just went with it?”
He snickered a contradictory sound. “No. No fucking way. He argued with me… which was quite something… He likes you, fought for you… I told him we were protecting you. That you deserved better than the life I could offer… and he understood that. He understood.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe a man who values his career, a kind, sensitive, careful man, would just go with it. Bale is smart. He might owe you something, and I don’t know what that is, but it wouldn’t be enough to have him lie to me for the sake of it. Why would he do that? Why would he risk everything for—”
“He’s my brother,” Ryske said, dropping his head to meet her eye. Shocked, Harlow didn’t know what to say. “My mom had him before I was born, she put him up for adoption… He found me when he was looking for her. I was sixteen, he was twenty-one. Green little fucker, all wide-eyed and innocent, a gullible angel… he found me in Floyd’s. I was already smarter than him, though he was deep in the books by then. His adoptive parents had died and he was using their insurance money to get through school, but it wasn’t enough for medical school, which was what he wanted… We made a deal. It was a game, I guess, a bet… I told him I’d pay for his medical school. He laughed. Me, a dumb, stupid sixteen year old kid from the street telling this college boy that I’d finance him… He said if I could do that, he’d give me and my crew free medical care for the rest of our lives…”
Go It Alone (A Go Novel Book 2) Page 16
