Betrayed

by Melody Anne

  “Wait,” he told her as he got out of the car. She was shocked when he came to the passenger side and opened her door. Byron never professed to be a gentleman; so what was he doing now?

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, then waited while he grabbed her bag from his trunk.

  They only made it a few feet when McKenzie froze in her driveway. Byron wasn’t expecting her to stop, and he bumped into her. “What’s the matter?”

  She didn’t have to tell him. He turned his head and saw the same thing she did. Humiliation burned through her, and McKenzie found herself fighting tears as she stood next to Byron, the humiliation so much worse with him as a witness.

  “Call the police now,” he said though clenched teeth.

  “There’s nothing they can do about this,” she said with a sad shake of her head.

  “That’s bullshit, McKenzie. This is vandalism and defamation of character,” he thundered.

  “Please calm down, Byron. I don’t need the neighbors alerted to what’s going on,” she said as she looked around. Her embarrassment was already too high, so she didn’t need it to get worse.

  “Really? That’s what you’re concerned with right now? What your neighbors think?” he fired off.

  “Yes. Maybe you don’t give a damn what people think of you, but I do,” she snapped as she turned from the car and marched up her porch steps. She was on a mission to find sandpaper, spray paint, anything that would erase what had been done.

  Byron caught up to her before she was able to unlock the front door. “Maybe someone saw something, saw who did this,” he said.

  “I doubt it,” she said, and she got out her keys and opened the door.

  “Dammit, McKenzie, something needs to happen!”

  “Why, Byron?” she shouted as they entered her house. Her humiliation, her exhaustion, her stress all reached a peak. “You call me the same thing. So why in the hell do you even care?”

  He took a step back as if she’d slapped him. “I would never spray-paint the word whore across your vehicle,” he finally whispered.

  “What’s the difference between painting it on my car and calling me one?”

  “McKenzie…,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

  She didn’t need to hear him try to explain himself. She knew who he was. She knew who she was. And they would never find common ground.

  “Just go home, Byron. I need to get this fixed,” she told him, so tired she suddenly couldn’t even see straight.

  His shoulders stiffened as he looked at her. “What in the hell aren’t you telling me? I know there are problems in your life, and this just cements it. Why don’t you let me help you?”

  “Nothing is going on, Byron. It was probably drunk teenagers thinking they are being funny, and my house was empty so they went on the attack. It was just my car that they harmed.”

  Without asking for her permission, Byron pulled out his phone, dialed, and soon arranged to have her car picked up and taken in for repairs. She would have tried to stop him, but she was learning to choose her battles. And the reality was that she needed her car and she simply didn’t have the emotional stamina left to deal with the problem right then.

  When he hung up the phone, she moved into her living room and sat down. She had told him he could stay for dinner, but she didn’t have the energy to prepare it, and she wanted more than anything for Byron to just pull her into his arms and take care of her. That angered her. She wasn’t weak, and that was such a weak thing to want.

  Byron followed her, a look of concentration on his face, as if he were trying to find the right words to say. She had no idea what was going to come next.

  “Go and gather some clothes. I’ll bring you to my house.”

  She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t say anything else. She closed her eyes for a brief second as she fought the desire to do just that. But there was no way she could accept his offer. If she did, then she would certainly become reliant on Byron and that was as dangerous as facing whoever had damaged her property. Maybe even more dangerous.

  “I think our weekend is over now, Byron,” she finally said, crossing her arms against her chest.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” He took a step closer to her.

  “I’m not coming to your house, and I’m too tired to cook. I think you should leave.” That was pretty cut-and-dried, though it was killing her to say it.

  “What if whoever did that comes back?” he asked. “You aren’t safe here.” He began pacing her small living room, making it seem even smaller than normal.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and I don’t need to start leaning on anyone now,” she almost growled. She was too close to falling apart right now. If he touched her, she would completely lose it.

  “I want to… Look, McKenzie. Just let me take care of you.”

  McKenzie froze. She had no idea what Byron meant by that, but she was sure it wasn’t what she needed it to mean. How could he take care of her when he thought she was so horrible?

  He couldn’t.

  “Look, Byron, this weekend was a bad idea. Sure, the sex was great, but now that we’re back here, I realize that it…um…complicates things. I need to just finish my job, and you need to go back to doing whatever it is you do. There’s no reason for this game to continue. We’ve already had sex,” she said with a humorless laugh. “I’d really prefer it if you left now. This has to end here.”

  His face went blank, and he stopped and stared at her for several tense heartbeats. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  No! That wasn’t what she wanted at all, but it was what she needed to happen. What she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and tell her the world was right and that she would never hurt again. What she wanted was for him to want her for more than just a good time in the closest bed. But that’s not what she could tell him.

  “Yes. It’s what I want.”

  He moved over to the couch and leaned down, resting his weight against the back as he came within inches of her face. “Be very sure that’s what you want, McKenzie. Because I don’t need to be told no over and over again. I wanted you; I pursued you. We had sex. If you really want me to go away, I will walk out your door and never come through it again,” he warned her, his hot breath caressing her face.

  She waited until she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake when she spoke, and then she was proud that she wasn’t so choked up that the welling tears would come through in her words. “Would you like me to find a replacement tomorrow? I have two people who are more than ready to take my place at your company.”

  His eyes narrowed and he leaned a half an inch closer before pushing back to put a distance of several feet between them. She had a feeling he’d done it to keep himself from putting his hands around her throat and squeezing. But she’d never know for sure.

  “No. Be at work tomorrow. I’ll send a driver.”

  With that, he turned and walked from her house. She heard him start the car, heard him pull away, and still she sat there as still as a statue. It was at least fifteen minutes before she managed to stand up and look out her window to verify that he was indeed gone. Then, and only then, did she curl up in a ball on her couch and let the tears fall.

  All she had truly wanted was for him to wrap her in his arms. But she hadn’t been brave enough to ask him. And now it didn’t matter anyway. He was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Byron was furious. He’d had to get away from McKenzie’s house before he did something he might have regretted later. Not that he ever allowed himself to feel regret. That was for the weak, and Byron wasn’t a weak person.

  He was trying to help McKenzie against all odds, and she’d had the nerve to throw it back in his face. How dare she! This wasn’t the first time she’d refused his kind offer. Why did he keep doing it? It made no freaking sense. She didn’t deserve his help, not with the kind of person she was.

  But the two of them ha
d enjoyed a great weekend together. Not that they should have. And he was to blame. He’d pushed it. And how he had pushed… Damn! He hadn’t felt this confused since he was a child. He didn’t like it one little bit.

  He should have taken her up on her suggestion that she leave Knight Construction. He should say goodbye to this woman and never look back. Dammit! Even the thought of doing that turned his guts inside out. What in the hell was going on with him?

  He slammed his fist against the steering wheel while he was stopped at a red light. When a car behind him honked, he realized that the light had turned green and he was still sitting there. Slamming his foot against the gas pedal, he peeled away from the intersection with a mighty squeal and made his way toward home.

  He and McKenzie were nothing to each other. They weren’t even friends, or even lovers. They had shared a casual weekend of sex, but that didn’t put them in a “relationship,” and he shouldn’t give a damn if something was going on in her life that was causing her distress.

  But as much as he tried to convince himself, he couldn’t help but worry, couldn’t help but want to step in and live up to his last name. It was ridiculous of him because he was one of the people in line who wanted her destroyed — or at least he had been one of the people in line.

  He tried to assure himself that as soon as her life wasn’t in danger — if it even was —he would be able to send her away without a second thought. He had wanted to mess with her the way she’d messed with his brother. But now the victory he thought he would feel over breaking her was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

  He wasn’t certain how he’d made it home; he sure as hell wasn’t concentrating on his driving. But there he was, and he parked and went inside. The change of scenery didn’t change the tenor of his thoughts, however. He really needed to just let this go. But no matter how many times he tried to convince himself of just that, he couldn’t do it, couldn’t lift his phone and tell her not to come into work, that she could go back to her accounting business, free and clear, with a great reference from him for a job well done.

  As Byron lay in bed that night, he told himself it was only because he hadn’t extinguished the need he felt for her. A few more times in his bed and he would have his fill and send her on her way. Without her there, however, he spent a restless night tossing and turning, the little sleep he managed to get marred by nightmares with McKenzie drifting away.

  So when he walked into his building the next morning, he was exhausted, and more of a bear than usual. At least his team of employees knew him well enough to read the look on his face. Not one person tried to speak to him as he stormed past to his office.

  They knew it was best for all concerned if they let him be.

  Byron sat at his desk and attempted to get down to some actual work, or at least to look as if he were doing so. After ten minutes of this wasted effort, he gave up and stood. He needed to know that McKenzie was next door, right where he’d told her to be.

  Standing in her doorway, he felt his spirits lift slightly when he saw the exhaustion lining McKenzie’s face — her night hadn’t been any better than his. Had she missed him the night before as much as he had missed her? What other reason could there be?

  Then he remembered one, and worry set back in.

  What if someone had come back to her house? No. She was sitting in the offices. She was fine. Or maybe she wasn’t. Anyone would be rattled by the events of the day before. She certainly had real emotions. Maybe he just wanted those dark circles to mean she had missed him.

  “The driver I sent for you said you weren’t there,” Byron remarked.

  She looked up, but by the expression showing on her face, she’d already been aware he was there. He knew the feeling. She simply had to be nearby and he could feel her presence.

  “I took a cab to work. I told you I don’t need your help,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

  “Dammit, McKenzie! I’m losing my patience with you,” he snapped as he stepped into her office and shut and locked the door.

  Her face blanched, and she sat back, eyeing him warily. “I’m sorry. As I said, I shouldn’t work here anymore, Byron.”

  “What you should do is tell me what in the hell is going on.” He toned down his anger, but he wasn’t leaving this office until he got some sort of answer from her.

  “I don’t trust people,” she finally told him, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Why not?” He waited.

  Her tears evaporated, and she gave him a stubborn look. “It doesn’t matter, Byron, but I know better than to rely on anyone but myself.”

  “You can’t do your job if you are holding this much stress inside, McKenzie. The best thing you can do is tell someone.” He took a chair and set it next to hers, making her face him.

  “I can do my job just fine. Work is what keeps me focused,” she said.

  “Look, I’d be happy if I didn’t give a damn about you. I’m trying not to. But we have…something going on between us. I need to know what is happening in your life.” Byron immediately wanted to take those words back, but they were out there, so he sealed his lips together and waited.

  “Don’t waste your time feeling anything for me, Byron. My life is messed up, and you know that only too well. We’d be nothing but trouble together,” she said with a bitter laugh.

  “I have never told any other woman anything remotely close to what I just said to you. Don’t make me regret it.” He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb on the delicate skin of her palm. She inhaled deeply and tugged on her hand, but he refused to loosen his grip. “Talk to me,” he demanded.

  Her lips parted but nothing came out of her mouth. She took another breath, then looked away from him for several moments, focusing her eyes out the window. He waited.

  Still she said nothing to him, and short of violence he didn’t know how to get through to her. Really, he didn’t need to do this to himself. “I’m trying to be a decent guy, and you’re pushing me away,” he finally said.

  Silence again ensued for so long that he wondered if she was going to speak to him at all. Then she turned and looked at him, so much sadness in her expression that it shook him to his core, making him wonder if he’d gotten anything at all right about her.

  “I just want to get back to work,” she finally said, defeat coming through loud and clear.

  “Then work it is…for today.”

  He left her office. Byron had a lot to think about — a lot of things he didn’t want to think about. He had no idea where this was going with McKenzie, but he knew one thing for sure: the surprises weren’t over. She was getting closer and closer to talking to him. She eventually would.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  McKenzie was still sitting motionless at her desk fifteen minutes later. Just the thought of working seemed insurmountable; forget about actually doing the work. She had been so close to speaking with Byron, to sharing everything with him, but she knew that would be a monumental mistake. Men like him couldn’t be trusted – hell, very few men actually could.

  She didn’t trust him or his motives, and she suspected that he was trying to gather evidence or something like that to use against her. She’d be a fool to forget that, to open her life and her heart to that man. And she’d been a fool one too many times already.

  She picked up her cooled-off coffee and took a drink. She didn’t even care that it tasted like crap. She was only in it — or vice versa —for the caffeine.

  She kept giving herself mental slaps to wake herself up. She couldn’t allow herself to think for even a single second that she and Byron had really shared anything together the last few days. They’d spent a weekend having sex. It had been beyond her wildest imagination good sex, but still just sex. If she imagined it to be anything other than that, she was a fool. She’d been deceived before, and she damn well wasn’t going to let it happen again.

  The temptation to lean on him, though, was killing her.

  But enough of
this. Putting aside her personal problems and worries, McKenzie forced herself to get back to work. After about an hour, she was doing okay with that — no, she wasn’t moving as quickly or as efficiently as she thought she should be moving, but she was at least getting something done. Something other than moaning and groaning about a past that was over, that is.

  When her phone rang just before lunch, she looked down and smiled. She hadn’t spoken with Zach since last Thursday and she was actually missing the guy.

  “Good morning, Zach. How are things over there?”

  “Without you, my love? Without you here, they can’t be better than okay.”

  “Oh, no. Is there something wrong?”

  Zach chortled. “No. Of course not. Hard as it may be to believe, I’m capable of doing my job.”

  “Then why in the world are you trying to scare me?” she demanded.

  “I wasn’t. I was trying to let you know that this place will never be the same without you here,” he told her. “I forgot for a moment how you can go from point A to point Z in one second flat.”

  “I’m just ready to get back in there. I can only do this freaking job for so long before I go completely insane.”

  “Are things any better there between you and Byron?”

  “I shouldn’t have told you he is a pain in my ass,” she said. “But…yes, they’re just fine — pretty much the same,” she lied.

  “Okay, McKenzie, keep things to yourself. I’ll try not to be too offended,” he told her with an elaborate sigh and a slight sniff.

  “And you can quit being so dramatic, Zach.”

  “Well, I was just calling to let you know that the accountant you’re filling in for contacted us today,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember why you’re there? The head accountant who met with an unfortunate accident? The guy, Norm Dannon, called us this morning to let us know that he wouldn’t be able to return to Knight Construction. Effects of the accident and all that. So you’ll need to find someone who can take your place, ’cause if you plan to stay there permanently, our business is going to go down in flames. Or up in smoke. Or…never mind.”