Fucking women who hang out about the places I frequent in New York is a recipe for disaster, because they always come back for more even when I explain it’s only a one-time thing. I’ve messed up a few times, and it’s always come back to bite me in the ass.
I throw a few bills on the counter, slide off the stool, and walk out of the bar.
It’s three a.m., but there are still people milling about. I pull my hoodie up over my head and keep my chin down.
One of the things I like most about living in New York is how blasé most people are about the celebrities living in their midst. Greenwich Village is home to plenty of famous people because no one usually bothers us here. I can walk about without being deluged. Sure, you get tourists stopping and asking for autographs, but most locals just stare and drool. I regularly run the streets in the early hours of the morning when I can’t sleep, and I love the sense of freedom I feel as I pound the sidewalks.
Tonight, though, I don’t want anyone to recognize me for obvious reasons.
I slip into the narrow alleyway and head toward the overflowing dumpster. He steps out of the shadows, and a red mist ghosts over my eyes like always. Looking at him sickens me every time. He thinks he looks legit because he wears an expensive suit and watch, both bought on my dime, but one look into those cold, hard eyes reveals the truth.
“You’re late,” he snaps, reaching an arm out for me.
I clamp my hand on his muscular arm, stopping him from going for my throat. I haven’t let him touch me like that in years, and I’m not about to let him now. “Take your fucking hands off me, or this’ll be the last time you see me.”
He chuckles. “You always were a stupid little punk.”
I thrust the brown envelope at his chest and turn to leave, but he grabs hold of my elbow, stopping me. “I can ruin your life.”
You already have.
“Don’t ever forget that.” The look he gives me is one I’m well accustomed to, and it never fails to send fear coursing down my spine. “I can snap her neck like a twig.” He clicks his fingers. “Just like that, and then your precious Zeta will be no more.” I hate how he continues to use her to push my buttons, and I wish I wasn’t so transparent when it came to her, but no matter how discreet I am, he always seems to know.
“And what would all your adoring fans think if they knew what you did?”
The thought of the public uncovering the truth scares me. It honestly does. But not as much as Zeta paying the price for my mistakes. If it came down to it, I’d throw my career under the bus without a minute’s hesitation if it meant keeping her safe.
I shove his hand off my elbow. “You got what you came for, so just leave me the fuck alone.”
“You owe me, boy. You’ll never stop owing me.”
Frustration gets the better of me, and I round on him, pushing him back into the wall. “You didn’t even do time! You’re the only one who got away without punishment.” I found that out a few years back when I did some digging, and it disgusted me. “I don’t owe you shit.”
He shoves me away, and I stumble a little. “The hell you don’t. It’s your fault. It’s your fault everyone was sent down, and you’ll never stop paying for that.” He slams his shoulder into mine as he pushes past me. “I’ll see you in three months. Be a good boy, Ryder, or you know what’ll happen.” He walks backward down the alley, pinning me with his evil eye. “I’ve got eyes on you.” He points his fingers at me. “Always. Never forget that.”
I spend the next three days permanently high and drunk as I do everything to banish him and my past from my conscious mind. But it doesn’t work, because it’s indelibly imprinted on my brain, and the internal scars will never heal.
Dark thoughts invade my mind, smothering me, pressing down on my chest, securing a tight grip around my heart, and I just want it to stop. I need it to end. I can’t go on existing like this, and someway or somehow, it’s going to come to a conclusion, but I don’t know if I’ll be left standing at the end.
I stagger toward my bedroom, clutching a bottle of Jack to my chest. After draining the contents, I flop back on the bed, my entire body shaking and trembling, and slowly, the tears come, gradually increasing in volume until I’m curled into a ball, screaming and crying into the void, begging someone to end my suffering.
CHAPTER 23
Zeta
“You look like shit,” I say the instant I open the door to him.
“You can’t still be pissed?” Ryder replies, yawning as he pushes his designer shades on top of his head.
“I’ll be eternally pissed after the stunt you pulled,” I hiss, lugging my case out into the hall and pulling the door to my condo shut behind me. All the rest of my stuff was moved to the Hamptons earlier in the week, so this is the only piece of luggage I’m bringing with me today.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you’re pissed, so be mad for as long as you like. All it’ll do is turn me on.” He winks, licking his lips and rolling his hips.
I glare at him. “Are you for real right now? I thought you weren’t going to do anything to make me uncomfortable?”
“I lied.”
My nostrils flare, and I want to punch something. Preferably him, but seeing as he’s my official employer now, in more ways than one, that wouldn’t be smart. I start counting to ten in my head as he leans in close, pressing his mouth to my ear. “Besides, you’re not uncomfortable. You’re turned the fuck on.”
“No, I’m fucking not.” I brush past him, heading toward Mrs. Peabody’s apartment.
“Liar.” He grabs hold of me, pulling me into his chest. His breath fans my face, and the fumes are pungent enough to knock an elephant on his back.
“And you’re drunk.” I wriggle out of his hold, taking a proper look at him. Dark shadows linger under his bloodshot eyes, his lips are cracked and dry, and his skin looks a little gray behind the few days’ worth of stubble on his chin and cheeks. I thought he’d cleaned up after his stint in rehab a couple years back, but looking at him now, it’s clear he’s fallen into old habits again.
A large chunk of my anger dissipates, and an unfamiliar nurturing instinct takes its place. I have an unhealthy craving to bundle him in my arms, run my hands through his hair, whisper soothing assurances, and make his pain go away.
“What’s it to you?” he asks in a belligerent tone, and the instinct passes.
“Nothing. It’s nothing to do with me. Drown yourself in booze for all I care.”
His jaw tightens, and he yanks my case up. “Let’s go.” He starts walking toward the elevator.
“I’ll meet you outside,” I call out, heading toward my elderly neighbor’s place without looking back at him.
I rap three times on her door, so she knows it’s me.
“What’re you doing?” Ryder asks, appearing at my side. “The exit’s this way.” He points down the hallway.
“I’m well aware of where the exit is in my own apartment building.” I roll my eyes. “I just have to do something before we go.”
The door swings open slowly, and I smile at the glamorous gray-haired lady staring up at me. Louise is away with the fairies most of the time, but she’s never anything but immaculately turned out. Years of having to look her best, at all times, has clearly been ingrained in her. Today, she’s wearing a light white cardigan over a summery lilac dress, and her long flowing gray locks are held back with two diamante clips. Flat silver bejeweled sandals adorn her feet. “Hello, lovely.” She clutches onto my hand with her frail grip. “Are you leaving now?”
I nod, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I am, but I just wanted to give you some contact numbers before I go.” I help her back inside, acutely aware of Ryder’s presence trailing behind me.
Once she’s seated on her comfy couch, I rummage in my bag for the envelope I prepared earlier.
“Oh my. You’re a hand
some devil,” Louise says, suddenly noticing my companion. I jerk my head up, and she’s pressing a hand to her chest as she looks over my shoulder. “I could just look at your face all day and die happy,” she purrs in a dreamy tone of voice, and I smother my snort of laughter. Staring pointedly at me, she adds, “Please tell me you’re tapping that.”
My mouth hangs open in shock as Ryder’s low chuckle does funny things to my insides. Reaching down, he takes her hand, planting a gentle kiss on her wrinkled skin. “I’m hers for the taking, but she won’t have me,” he replies, giving her way more information than I’d like.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you rocking a fever?” she asks me. “Or you’re just plain crazy?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I mumble, shaking my head as I find the envelope, extracting it from my bag. “Have you taken your meds today?”
Her bottom lip juts out and she pouts. “That bossy bitch made me take them earlier.”
“That bossy bitch is being paid to ensure you take them, and I’m glad to hear she’s doing her job.”
“You fuss too much, lovely. I’m perfectly capable of remembering to take my pills.” She rolls her eyes at Ryder, as if I’m the overly dramatic one.
“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her. “So, it wasn’t you I had to take to the ER last month to have your stomach pumped because you forgot you’d taken your pills and you took a double dose?”
She flaps her hands at me. “That was an accident, and you overreacted.”
“Sure, I did.” I shake my head, before sitting beside her and running through the list of numbers. “Kayla will drop by once a week, and she’s your second point of contact after Shirley if there’s any emergency.”
“Shirley’s a bitch. I don’t like her.”
“You said that, and you need to give her a chance. Besides, it’s not for long. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I get up, forcing my gaze to Ryder. He’s been on his best behavior, just hanging back and watching our interactions with an amused grin. “Can you keep her company for a second. I just need to check a few things.”
Louise squeals, patting the seat beside her, and a flash of concern darts across Ryder’s face.
“Watch out for her grabby hands,” I whisper as I brush past him, unable to resist teasing him.
I move into the kitchen, checking to ensure Shirley left Louise’s lunch and dinner prepared and that the refrigerator and pantry are well stocked. I check the faucets in the sink and then in the bathroom to ensure they’re all off. Louise can be very forgetful at times, and she’s flooded the place on more than once occasion. All is in order, so I head back to the living room, biting my lip to hold my laughter in as I see her flirting up a storm with Ryder.
We say our goodbyes, and as she’s leaning in to kiss Ryder on the cheek, she diverts her lips at the last minute, planting one on him. I manage to contain my laughter until we’re out in the hallway and the door is closed, and then I double over, laughing hysterically, with tears pumping out of my eyes.
“Are you done yet?” he deadpans.
“That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages.” I keep pace with him as we walk toward the elevator.
“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted,” he admits. “I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, but that was something else. I have no words.”
His reference to other women has the desired effect on my good humor, and my laughter dries up. An awkward silence filters between us, only broken by the ping of the elevator when it arrives.
We step inside with Ryder carrying my case. We stand side by side as the elevator descends, both staring straight ahead. “Does my lifestyle bother you?” he asks, twisting his head to look sideways at me.
“It’s none of my business,” I reply, refusing to make eye contact with him.
I startle when he cups my cheek, forcing my gaze to his. “None of those women meant anything to me, and the only one I’ve ever been in a relationship with is you.”
“If that’s really what we had,” I blurt.
He drops his hand, his jaw clenching. “Why would you say something like that? You know what we had, and continuously trying to deny it is just pissing me off.”
“We were so young, Ryder. What the hell did we know?”
“I know I loved you!” he shouts, as the elevator doors open. “You can fucking lie to yourself all you like, but I know what we had was the real deal.”
“Not real enough to warrant holding on to,” I snap back, annoyed that he’s bringing this up. If this is how he plans to act, it’s going to be a very long couple months in the Hamptons.
He slams to a halt, pushing me up against the wall in the lobby. His body is pressed against the length of mine as he pins my wrists together up over my head. “Is this how it’s going to be? You’re going to continue to punish me for trying to do the right thing? Continue to deny what I see in your eyes every time you look at me.”
I snort, glaring at him, as I attempt to wriggle out of his hold. “You’re so full of shit. The only thing you see in my eyes is resentment for forcing me into this. If you think any of this will earn you a place in my bed or a spot in my heart, you’re crazy.”
He leans in close, his lips a hairbreadth from mine. “I’m not the one who’s full of shit. You want me so bad, but you’re too chicken to admit it.”
I make another attempt to push him away, but he’s too strong, and every time I try to wriggle out of his grip, I’m conscious of the fact he’s pressed intimately against me, and my body is responding to that. I need to get away from him before I do something stupid.
Like kiss him.
“Your ego is showing, Rock Star. I’m not one of your groupies, and I won’t drop to my knees or open my legs just because you demand it.”
His response is to rock his hips against mine, pushing his erection into my lower belly. “Told you your smart mouth turns me on, so keep going, baby. I can do this all day long.” He thrusts his pelvis into mine again, and a little whimper flies out of my mouth.
He lifts off me instantly, pinning me with a smug expression as he steps back. “Like I said. You want me.”
His arrogant smile infuriates me, and I push off the wall, urging my out-of-control hormones to quiet down. “I wanted the old Ryder. The boy who was sweet and caring and considerate. That boy would never have railroaded me like this or disregarded my feelings.”
His shoulders slump, and he sighs, kicking the side of my case with his foot. After a few seconds, he lifts his head up and pins me with an earnest look. “I’m sorry if I’m going about this all wrong. I just want you back in my life. Is that so hard to believe?”
A piercing pain glides across my chest. “I just … look, can we not do this? Can we just try and keep this professional, because I honestly can’t do it if you’re going to push me at every opportunity.”
“Is there someone else?” he quietly asks. “Is that it?”
I shake my head. “There isn’t anyone else. I just want this to be about the work, and all the other stuff is going to get in the way. You’ve an album to record, and I’m tasked with documenting the whole process. And there are other people to consider. The last thing I want to do is to disrupt things with the band, and if we keep doing this, that’s exactly what’ll happen.”
He nods. “You’re right, and I’m being an ass again. Forgive me?” He offers me his hand.
“That remains to be seen,” I say, refusing his hand and walking toward the front door.
“Do you always travel like this?” I ask, once I’m situated in the back of the limo with a glass of champagne in my hand.
“Sometimes,” Ryder acknowledges. He’s sitting across from me with Garrett, and Micah is sitting beside me. They’d already explained that Scott is making his way there separately as he’s bringing his w
ife and baby along.
“Our boy’s going all out to impress you,” Garrett elaborates with a suggestive wink.
“Shut up.” Ryder sends him a warning glare, which he surprisingly obeys.
There’s a moment of tense silence before Ryder breaks it, filling the guys in on his encounter with my flirty neighbor, including how she kissed him and tried to grab his cock.
“You’re kidding. No way.” I shake my head, giggling at that revelation, silently high-fiving Mrs. Peabody. The guys tease him mercilessly, and it helps lift the tension in the air.
“I’m not lying. That woman scared me.”
“That’s priceless, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Some of the stuff that woman’s done would even make you blush, Rock Star.”
“How long have you known her?” Ryder leans back, stabbing me with that intense focus of his, and I subtly squeeze my thighs together, absorbing his heated look as physically as if it was a caress.
“I met her shortly after I moved into the building. She’d locked herself out of her apartment, and she was sobbing in the hallway because she’d left her cell inside, and she couldn’t remember her daughter’s number. I called the super, and we got the door unlocked. She was still upset so I helped her inside. The place was a mess, and I was concerned.” I take a sip of my champagne, recalling our first meeting. “I called her daughter and discovered she was in the hospital with stage four lung cancer. Long story short, her daughter passed away a few weeks later, and I just started checking in on Louise to make sure she was okay, and we became friends.”
I hold out my glass to Micah for a top up. “She’s had an interesting but tragic life. She was an actress before she met her husband and they moved overseas. When he was killed in a car accident, she moved back to the States with her daughter. She doesn’t have any other family, and her health is declining, so I check in on her every day.”
“That’s why you hired Shirley and asked Kayla to check in on her,” Ryder surmises, his knee bouncing up and down.
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