by Nicole Snow
“Kara? Your brother told me everything. Listen, I know how much it hurt when he walked out. I saw the damage he did to you – we all did – but no one like me, first-hand. If you want him gone, honey, and you can't do it yourself, then let us take care of him. We can talk to Sheriff Dixon, make sure he's apprehended before he has a chance to play more games. We're here for you and –“
“Jesus. Fuck.” I'm gripping the steering wheel hard, ready to tear it off. “You don't get it, do you, mom? Neither of you. I'm the one who agreed to meet with him last night. I've known about him being back in town for almost a week. He isn't here to hurt anymore.”
“Kara.” She says my name in a tone that lets me see her holding up a finger. “You don't know what he's here to do. He's an awful man. You shouldn't trust him with anything. Honey, I've heard you might be having some issues with Reg. You're vulnerable. Ryan probably knows it, which is why he's come back here to mess with you again. Don't believe a word he says. Don't –“
“I don't know what to believe, but the only one who can sort it out is me. Nobody else,” I say, jabbing my finger against the dashboard. The pain gives me a nice distraction. “What is it he's done, anyway? Why won't anyone be honest about it? It seems like you know more than I do, as much as daddy took to the grave a couple years ago.”
She's quiet. No different than the other times I've asked her about what really happened that night, whatever they know that goes beyond old articles and rumors.
“Kara, your father wanted you to move past Ryan. Forget him. Pretend he never existed,” she whispers. “We don't need to relive his betrayal. He stabbed us all in the back when we least expected it. Maybe we failed to recognize the mental issues a boy like him had, coming from those foster homes that didn't take good care of him. It isn't our problem anymore, honey, and it isn't yours. He needs to be locked up so he can finally get some help.”
“Locked up why? Because you think he really killed Nelson Drayton? I've never understood why everyone is so fucking insistent. He sat at our table almost every night, mom. He was like family. I loved him. If he had a dark side, I would've seen it. He's not a murderer.”
I'm so sure of my own words I almost believe them. Almost.
What I really want is to get off the phone, forget about going east, and find Ryan. I want him to clear his name. I want to believe I'm not falling for another dangerous liar, when Reg has shown me that's all he really is.
“You don't know that. Kara, please come home,” she says, snapping at first and then softening her tone. “Please. We can sit down, talk about this, sort out what we're going to do. I'll leave a light on for you. We'll figure this out as a family, together. We won't do anything until I let you have your say, if that's what you want. You've seen him last, so you might know how to deal with him without anyone else getting hurt.”
I'm not going to change her mind, no matter how many much time I burn talking. She clearly isn't opening up, and isn't going to tell me any new big, ugly secrets.
I hang up. Turn off my phone. Ignoring another text from Ryan while I do it. I can't let them trace his last communications to me if mom and Matt decide to turn him in, and it turns into a manhunt.
I need to find him, before the wolves close in, and rip him away from me forever. Whipping my car around, I peel back onto the highway, watching my headlights stab into the night.
My first mistake of the night is stopping at home, before I try to get in touch with Ryan. I'm surprised to see Reg's car there when it isn't even midnight. After what happened, I thought for sure he'd be gone.
As soon as I step inside, I hear something being thrown around upstairs, bounding loudly across the floor.
I take each step up cautiously. When I reach the hall, I look into our bedroom. It's a total mess. Clothes everywhere, drawers ripped open, debris from the master bathroom strewn around in the clothes. I've never seen Mr. Clean in such a chaotic frenzy, and it sends a chill up my back.
“Reg? What's going on?”
“Kara.” He stops, turns around, his eyes wide like I've just caught him pulling money from the safe. Thankfully, that seems to be untouched. There isn't a single fingerprint reflecting on the shiny metal buttons at the bottom of our closet. “I was going to leave a note, but...I'm leaving.”
“Leaving? What do you mean?” I say, folding my arms. “Another work trip?”
I'm so sick of his excuses. The only thing that stops me from walking away is the mess he's made, which tells me he's in a hurry to get the hell out. I'd like to know why.
“No, not work.” He shifts uncomfortably, stress lining his face. “Look, I'm sorry it has to go down this way. I'll be gone for the rest of the week, and I expect you to be out of my condo by the end of the week. Wedding's off, and we're done.”
My heart shouldn't hurt anymore. It's irrational. But it does, bleeding into itself, pain throbbing at the grim finality. I told myself I was ready for this. Hearing it is another story.
“So, it's over...just like that?” Anger invades my voice. I step into the room, kicking aside my dresses, which he's flung all over the floor. I'd say it's a disrespectful way to end, but it's no different from the way things have been the last six months.
He doesn't care. He never did. Never will.
I draw in a breath. “You know what? Fine. I'll be the bigger person and leave, since that's what you want. You've already turned my life upside down, wasted years, so what's another week?”
He doesn't say anything. For some reason, that's more infuriating than watching him stoop down like a scolded animal, tuck his toothbrush into his leather suitcase, and scurry past me.
He's halfway down the staircase when I lose it. I'll take his abuse, his nastiness, and his cold, but I can't stand this vicious silence.
I'm snatching at everything I can find, throwing it after him. A bottle of dry shampoo hits him in the back of his head, causing a satisfying echo.
“Fuck!” He stops, turns around, and looks at me, waiting near the door. “Your boyfriend is fucking insane, Kara, and so are you. You're lucky I don't turn you both in, and tell them everything right now. There's a police bulletin out for you. Call the cops and tell them you're safe before I do. It's the last favor you're ever getting from me.”
I'm looking at him, trying to take in the insane things he's saying, one at a time. It's like my brain has reached its limit on crazy today.
Before he walks out, he stops, and gives me the most hateful look I've ever seen on his princely face. “This is the last time you'll ever see me, but we're not done yet. Nobody assaults a Drayton and walks away. Your boyfriend isn't either.”
Boyfriend? What the hell is he talking about?
The door slams behind him, and I walk to the nearest window, overlooking the garage. His grey, freshly washed Mercedes screams out a second later. I know in the pit of my gut it's the last time I'm ever going to watch him leaving our home.
There's no time for tears, wine, or a lavender scented soak in the tub to calm me down. I'm going to go ballistic if I can't get answers.
Before, I needed to see Ryan. Now, I'm going to lose my mind by the end of the night if I can't find him. Hell has broken loose, spilling out a little more by the second, and I need answers.
His offices are dark. The security gate is locked up tight. A couple vehicles roam the lot, but I know they're mostly guards working night shift. I seriously doubt he's at work, especially if he's learned the police were trying to chase me down just a few hours ago.
If he couldn't find me, where would he go? It takes me a few minutes before I think I have an answer.
I drive on, leaving Punch Corp behind, heading for the spot where I believe he's likeliest to find me.
When I pull into the lighthouse parking lot, I see his lonely Tesla, and start to smile. How fitting.
He's upstairs, staring across the wide, dark sea. He doesn't wait for me to come up and join him. As soon as he sees my light, his solitary figure takes off, heading in
side and racing downstairs. He bursts out the doors a second later. His big beautiful arms are around me before I've even had a chance to close my door.
“Are you okay, babe? Did he hurt you?” His voice scratches my ears. Low and rough, delicious as the drag of his stubble on my skin.
“Only a few bruises to the heart.” I sigh, pausing to breathe him in, the only man who's ever felt right.
Ryan's blue eyes are dark and beautiful in the night. He takes my face in one hand, tilts it up, forcing me to hold his gaze. After all the hell I've been through tonight, I love it.
“That's over,” he whispers, low as distant thunder. “I'm here, Kara-bou. Never letting go as long as I've got a pulse. You're spending the rest of your days with a smile on those precious lips.”
“I want to believe you,” I tell him, nestling into his chest. His hands roll down my back, lower, warming the chills running up my spine. “It's hard, after all this.”
“It's not.” His hand cups my cheek again, and his forehead touches mine. “This is our reset, Kara. The pain, the hurt, the regret, that's all over. I'll mend fences with you and my family. I'll throw him out of your life if he ever comes back to give you hell again.”
“Like it's so easy.” Sarcasm creeps into my voice.
“I never ran away from a challenge,” he says, flashing me his mysterious smile. “You're the best one of my life. It's easy, because I say so, babe. I told you what this is – reset. Whether it's easy or hard doesn't matter because I just pushed the fucking button, and this ride doesn't stop until you're happy, living under my roof, and curled up with me every single night. We've lost too many nights. It'll take a whole army of assholes like Reg to keep me away from you even one more time, and I'll still go down swinging to keep you.”
No more talk. I lean into him, and let his lips take what they've wanted.
Our kiss ignites the fireball building in my belly. Rampant, scorching heat runs through my veins. His tongue presses into my mouth. Mine dances against his in hot, furious ripples. I'm actually swooning in his arms, losing support in my knees, falling into an embrace that's just like home.
“Your ex is gone tonight, yeah?” he asks.
I can't help but laugh. He calls him my ex like it's already official, and I don't have a hundred loose ends to wrap up, getting Reg out of my life for good. Finally, I nod.
“Good. Then let's take this to your place. I'll get the movers in the morning to grab your stuff as soon we've had our fun. They'll strip down everything that isn't his in that damned condo except the sheets we're about to ruin. I want him to rub his face in our love after everything he did to you.”
Sweet Jesus, he's insane.
But I have to admit, the idea has a certain wild charm to it. It satisfies my jealousy, my anger, and my hurt all at once. More than anything, I just want Ryan again, the sex I've craved for half a decade, suffering through abstinence and then the awkward encounters with Reg that weren't much better.
I hate him for lying, walking out, and wasting my time.
Unfortunately, there's also no telling what's true, and what isn't, since he wrecked the evidence on the thumb drive. What if I'm wrong about his affair, however suspicious he's been acting, and he's decided to dump me over something else?
He's a bastard for doing it, yeah. But does he deserve to be humiliated?
“Ryan...I don't know,” I say, pushing against his broad, incredible chest. “It's happening so fast. He never even admitted to cheating on me. I didn't see the data – he broke it before I could. Don't worry. I'm not taking him back, not after what he said to me today, or the way he walked out.”
“You need to see this.” His strong, square jaw smooths his smile. Ryan's expression turns deadly serious as he reaches into his pocket, flips through some keys on his phone, and then holds it in front of me.
It takes several seconds to recognize what I'm looking at. It's Reg on the screen. Nearly naked, red faced, looking like he's about to rip someone's head off.
He's cuffed to a leather chair, staring hatefully into the lens. The bastard's erection is still straining in his boxers, despite his gross humiliation. It's one dick I'm never going to miss.
Ryan flips through several more pics of my ex tied down. Then there's another one with a woman I don't recognize at first. She's wearing the tallest candy colored heels in the world, her ankles splayed, legs pressed defensively together at the knees.
Her face hits me through the makeup. Wedding planner Amy stares at me like a helpless animal. Frustrated, ashamed, and maybe a little afraid.
Really? Is there any low he won't sink to?
I can't stop shaking. I thought I'd braced myself, prepared to see undeniable proof of him being a cheating asshole. But doing it with the woman we sat with yesterday? The one who was supposed to help craft the happiest day of our lives?
I shove his arm away, threatening to knock the phone from his hand. “Sorry,” I mutter, turning my back, facing Superior's loud, steady churn.
“No, babe. Don't apologize,” he says, wrapping a protective arm around my waist. “It's a lot for you to take in, and there's not much time to do it. We're moving like the wind, but hell, we always did. We've lost time. That's the real tragedy here. Too many years robbed away by my mistakes and this asshole. Now, we're taking them back. Fixing everything.”
I turn, facing him, hot new tears rolling down my cheeks. His confidence comforts me. So does the inferno rising in his eyes, wide as open skies, ready to lift me up to a higher, better place.
“We're fixing it all,” he says again. “Kara, I love you. I never stopped. When I look at you, it's like the time we've lost doesn't even matter. Nailing that cheating fucker's coffin shut, making sure you're safe and loved against me tonight and every night after...that's all we've got to worry about. When I look at you, I see the sexiest, smartest, and most gorgeous woman in the whole damned universe. Same woman who said 'yes' to me all those years ago, who I'm hoping will say it again.”
My heart hits meltdown. It's not made to take this much happiness and pain, to be tossed from heaven to hell and back to earth again in a matter of days.
Before I can say anything, he pushes his finger softly over my lips. “Don't say it now. There's a time and place for that, love. I proposed to you once like a little boy, and when it happens again, it's going to be a man asking to put a ring on your hand.”
He's growling when he lifts my arm, lacing my fingers into his. God, they feel so right.
So perfectly, undeniably, impossibly right that I'd probably overrule my sane side and agree to marry him tonight if he just said the words.
Instead, he starts leading me to his car. “You okay with leaving your ride parked here tonight? I'll send for someone from the company to get it in the morning.”
“Of course.” Saying it is the last little thing I remember before I'm tucked into the warm leather seat next to him, the instrument panels lighting our faces in dull blue light, taking the winding roads into town.
It's really happening.
Holy shit!
It starts to sink in when Ryan's hand goes to my thigh just as we're getting into Split Harbor. He rubs circles there, each lap like a shock to my core, obliterating the night's emotional storm in rays of sweltering heat, want, and need.
I don't bother directing him to the guest parking. He pulls along the curb, parks, and several seconds later, he's opening the passenger door and lifting me into his arms.
He carries me all the way through the door, and then straight up. Jacob isn't at the front desk to see us, thankfully. He respects the Draytons too much, just like everyone else in town. I'm sure he'd start dialing Reg right away if he saw another man leading me to the elevator, which has had a lot of work done lately because some mad man laid his fists to it, breaking the mirrors on the walls.
Upstairs, I reach for my keys, but I fumble several times. He's insatiable. Ryan slams me against the door, his mouth crushing mine. We're feeding a lust
neither of us can handle with every kiss, surrendering ourselves to a greater power that won't be satisfied until we're naked, sweating, and totally spent.
He snatches me up in his arms again as soon as I get the door unlocked. I'm laughing when he carries me over the threshold.
It's everything I imagined five years ago, on what should've been our wedding night, entering our first place alone as man and wife.
“Upstairs,” I say, guiding him through our place. He doesn't stop to inspect anything.
His hands are all over my ass. Cupping, squeezing, forcing me to imagine everything that's coming next. I feel like it's a hundred and ten degrees when I think about his big, rough hands ripping off my clothes, rolling my nipples, bending me over.
His palms, slapping both cheeks if I don't ride him hard enough. God.
Not that I think I'll need any help in that department. After months – hell, years – of sub-par sex or nothing at all, I'm starving.
My purse drops as soon as we're next to the bed. Ryan starts tearing at my clothes, and I don't resist, moaning when he pulls one breast from my blouse, pushes down my bra, and bends me over the bed while his teeth pull on my nipple.
Oh, shit. Yes!
He sucks and licks for one outstanding minute. It's so good and hot and sudden I swear I'm about to come on the spot. But he pulls away before I can, pins my shoulders against the bed, watching me while I pant and writhe. My entire body begs for more.
“I'm clean, babe, in case you wondered,” he says.
I smile. It's sweet that he still cares. It also makes me a little jealous.
No, I don't hold it against him that he's been with other women – he's only human. I've been busy with Reg, deep in more kink than I ever wanted, and the wrong kind, too. But imagining him fucking anyone except me right now makes me want it more.
“I'm on the pill,” I say. Thinking about taking him skin-on-skin, feeling him erupt deep inside me, sends a delicious tingle through every nerve.
