by Lisa Cardiff
My stomach plummeted along with all the blood in my head when my eyes connected with Evan’s. “Oh shit,” I whispered, abruptly severing eye contact. “We have to go.”
Ryker followed my line of sight. Then, he grabbed my hand. “It’ll be fine. Just act naturally. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“But…But,” I stammered.
He raised one eyebrow, searing me with his gunmetal gray eyes. “Hi, Evan,” he said as he released my hand.
“Ry,” Evan said through clenched teeth as he laser focused all his attention on me. “I didn’t realize you were already dating other people. It’s been what,” he lifted one shoulder casually, “three or four days since you broke off our engagement?”
I bounced my leg up and down under the table. “That sounds about right.”
Evan folded his arms across his chest. “I thought you needed space to figure out your life.”
“I do,” I snapped. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“Just tell me how long you waited.”
I blinked. “How long I waited for what?”
Evan’s eyes cut to Ryker. Then, he leaned forward, bracing his palms on the edge of our table. “Did you start fucking him immediately after our engagement party, or did you wait until we broke up?”
My eyes flared as I sucked in a breath, but I didn’t get the opportunity to respond. Ryker jumped out of his chair and grabbed Evan by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward so only inches separated their faces. “Apologize.”
“Apologize?” Evan laughed bitterly, his face hard, his eyes dark and narrowed. “Why? She’s the one who needs to apologize. She’s the one who ended our engagement and moved on five seconds later.”
Ryker’s fist twisted in the fabric of Evan’s shirt. “She’s not your concern anymore.”
Evan tried to grab my hand, but I lowered it to my lap and out of his reach. “I love you, Hattie. I stood by you. I accepted you back into my life. I didn’t even make you explain anything. Is this how you repay me?”
I popped out of my chair, and it tumbled backward. He said those three words with conviction, but I didn’t believe him. Not anymore. I saw a man who loved the idea of us, and what we could do together, but he didn’t love me. “Accepted me back into your life? I didn’t do anything wrong. I was a victim.”
“Did you tell him what happened?” Evan asked, his eyes narrowed into dark slits.
Ryker released Evan’s shirt. “I know everything,” he said, answering the question for me.
“You hardly know him.” Hurt flashed across Evan’s face. “You told him, and you wouldn’t tell me anything. Not a single fucking detail. Why? Don’t you trust me?”
Guilt dissected my heart like a sword. “Evan,” I said, holding my hand over my chest. “Can we talk about this later? This isn’t time or the place.”
Evan surveyed the restaurant. Everyone was watching us with a mixture of horror and excitement. What a disaster. He squared his shoulders and took a few steps back. “You’re right.”
I nodded. “I’ll call you soon, okay?”
Without responding, he spun around and headed to the entrance. He whispered something to a blonde woman in a short emerald green dress. Her eyes flashed to me. Then, Evan threaded his arm through hers, and they strolled out of the restaurant as though nothing had happened. I guess he could date, but I couldn’t. Typical Evan logic. He had the audacity to accuse me of moving on too quickly and act as if I had wounded him when he brought a date too.
For a frozen eternity, I didn’t have the energy to do anything. I exhaled shakily. Fatigue had settled into my bones, and I wanted to go home, climb into bed, and forget about everything…everyone. Tears beaded in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to cry over Evan. He had already claimed too much of my life and wasted too much of my time. I cleared my throat and shifted on my feet. “Well, that was awkward.”
Ryker stared at me, the silence ballooning with every tick of the second hand, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. Then, his sensual lips curved into a smile, jumpstarting my heart. He chuckled under his breath as he slapped some money on top of the bill. “I think we outstayed our welcome. Let’s get out of here.”
His lips swept across mine, and his scent swaddled me, soothing my frayed nerves, uncoiling the tension holding my muscles hostage. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered.
“That I can’t believe you wanted me to get back together with him.”
Chapter Eleven
Ryker
“This looks amazing,” Rever said, leaning over my shoulder.
“It’s not for you,” I said, elbowing him in his stomach.
Rever stumbled back. “What the hell?”
I turned off the stove and snagged my keys from the counter, stuffing them into my pocket. “You need to leave.”
He leaned against the kitchen counter, his ankles crossed. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Go out to dinner. Check into a hotel. I don’t care. You can’t stay here tonight.”
“With what money?” he challenged.
I opened my wallet and pulled out five crisp hundred dollar bills. “Take this.” I dropped the stack of bills on the counter.
Rever eyed the money, but didn’t make any attempt to grab it. “No.”
“We’ve already been over this. Hattie’s coming over for dinner, and you can’t be here.”
“I’ll stay in the guest room. She won’t even know I’m here.”
I groaned. “I’ll know you’re here.”
“Look, Ryker, both of us know I shouldn’t step foot out of your apartment. Senator Deveron knows I’m in D.C. He could have me picked up again, and then we’d be fucked. Anna would be fucked.”
He was right. As much as I wanted him to leave, it wasn’t a good decision for either of us. It’d been a week since we went out to dinner and ran into Evan. She hadn’t mentioned him again, and I hadn’t asked her any questions. I didn’t want to push her. She’d let me back into her life, which was good enough for me. For now.
“Fine.” I opened my front door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t come out of the room tonight.”
“Are you ever going to introduce us?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
“So you’re embarrassed by me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Pretty much,” I answered, slamming the door behind me. Hattie and I managed to build some trust over the last week, but I didn’t want to throw Rever in her face. Likewise, she didn’t want to introduce me to her friends. Maybe someday we’d figure out how to incorporate our friends and family into our relationship, but right now I wanted to concentrate on us.
I jogged across the street. As usual, Hattie and I had planned to meet at the bar two blocks from my apartment. We’d been careful to avoid meeting in places where we could run into her friends or family.
I opened the door of the neighborhood bar. The smell of stale beer assaulted my nose. Dark wood covered the walls. I wove through the crowds of people taking advantage of the happy hour menu. My leather soles clicked over the gray and white checkerboard tile floor.
Hattie sat at a booth in the corner, twirling her fingers around the stem of a nearly empty glass of white wine. Her other hand tapped impatiently on the sleek and industrial-looking gunmetal tabletop. My late arrival didn’t go unnoticed by her.
Like every other time we had met in the past week, I nodded to her, and then I walked directly through the bar to the back entrance. Normally, we walked the two blocks to my car and drove somewhere outside D.C., but tonight she was coming to my apartment for dinner.
“You’re late.” She circled her arms around my neck.
“Dinner complications.” My gaze drifted to her lips. I shouldn’t kiss her here, but I couldn’t resist. My lips settled over hers, brushing back and forth until her lips parted. My tongue slid against hers, the honeyed melon flavor of her wine coated her mouth.
I stepped back. �
�I’m starving. Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes. I didn’t eat much today. Let’s go.”
I slid an arm around her waist, keeping her close as I pushed open the exit door. I had taken a few steps when I noticed a man standing at the end of the alley. He wore a long black trench coat, even though it was an unseasonably warm night in May. I shoved Hattie behind me, cursing inwardly that I didn’t bring my gun.
“What’s wrong?” Hattie whispered, one hand clutching the back of my shirt and the other on top of my left shoulder.
“Go back inside.”
“No. I’m not leaving you.”
“Now!” I yelled, brushing her hand off my shoulder.
“Don’t move. Either of you,” the man said, flashing the gun strapped to his waist.
I pushed Hattie aside, and she stumbled, crying out as she fell on all fours. I ran forward, my feet pounding against the asphalt. When I closed the distance between us, I launched myself at the man, shoving him against the brick wall. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and his body sagged like a rag doll.
I wrapped my hands around his neck and smashed his head against the wall, each sickening thud acted like gasoline fueling my anger.
He sneered as his fist connected with the side of my face. My chin whipped to the side. Blood exploded from my lip and the taste of iron seeped into my mouth. The man lifted his gun, but I grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall until it fell out of his hand, clanging against the cracked asphalt.
He kicked my knee, and I grunted as pain radiated up my leg. Adrenaline flowed through my body, igniting a murderous fury. I dove forward, caging my arms around his waist, tackling him. Straddling him with my legs, I put him in a chokehold. The man bucked underneath me, clawing at my hands. Blood oozed over my fingertips like black lava from the back of the man’s head. Gasping, his lips turned a faint shade of blue. Violence hemorrhaged from my pores. I wanted to kill him. I was going to kill him.
Distantly, Hattie’s shrill screams vibrated down the manmade corridor of brick, stone, and cement, but I was too preoccupied with delivering violence to focus on her. Sweat dripped down my temples, mingling with the blood seeping from my lip. My Vargas bloodline craved death— the split second in time when the soul abandoned its physical form, and the eyes dimmed for eternity. The darkness inside me eclipsed the light.
My fist collided with his face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I couldn’t stop. I loosened the reins on the darkness living deep inside of my soul. I was blind and deaf to everything except the bloodlust crackling in my synapses.
A car screeched to halt at the end of the alley. A second man ran out of the car flashing his gun. The silver glittered, reflecting off the street lamp.
“Let him go,” the man yelled, pointing his gun between my eyes.
I rolled back, lifting my hands into the air. “What do you want?”
The second man ignored me. “John, get the fuck up,” he spat at the man moaning on the ground where I left him.
“We’re here to deliver a message,” the man with the gun said through clenched teeth, his body half turned away from me.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Hattie. She was crouched into a ball near the dumpster, tears streaming down her face.
I shot to my feet, angling my body to protect Hattie. I kicked the gun I wrestled from the first attacker behind me, but within my reach. “Then, deliver your fucking message and leave.”
“Senator Deveron said the game is up. He knows who you are. You have twenty-four hours to do as he requested, or he’ll expose you.”
I glanced back at Hattie. Her mouth was parted as she stared wide-eyed at me, her entire body trembling. My chest heaving with exertion, I rolled my shoulders back. “Great. I have a message for him too.”
The man with the gun shrugged, trying to look casual even as his eyes flickered between Hattie and me.
I scooped up the discarded gun and aimed. “Tell Senator Deveron to go to hell. Now get the fuck out of here before I kill you both.”
I watched them get in the car and drive away. I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and turned to face Hattie.
“Hattie,” I said, kneeling in front of her. “Are you okay?”
“Ryker.” She grabbed my hand, squeezing it, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “Please tell me what’s going on. Why would Senator Deveron come after you? What does he want?”
My stomached clenched as I cradled her hand between both of mine. “I don’t know.”
She yanked her hand from mine. “Dammit, Ryker. I need to know. I’m running blind. How can I protect myself when I don’t know what’s going on?”
She was right. “You don’t have to. That’s my job.”
“You can’t shadow me for the rest of my life. Tell me the truth.”
“No,” I snapped.
She stood, brushing invisible debris from her sunflower-colored dress with one hand and clutching her purse with the other. “Then, I’m done.”
“What do you mean?”
She scraped her hair away from her face, her fingers noticeably shaking. “Our relationship has run its course. We can’t be together in public. You can’t or won’t tell me the truth. People are waving guns at me, trying to physically assault us. It’s over.” She started walking down the alley, her heels clicking like a time bomb with every step.
My chest caved. Everything in me screamed to let her go. That this wouldn’t work. That we could never be anything. Rever was right. My relationship with Hattie would blow up in my face.
“Wait,” I yelled when she reached the mouth of the alley. She glanced over her shoulder, her amber eyes glowing with hope. “Okay,” I conceded.
“Okay, what?”
“I’ll tell you the truth.”
“Everything?”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. This was fucking nuts. Something was wrong with me, but knowing it didn’t stop me. “Yes, everything I know.”
Chapter Twelve
Hattie
Ryker opened the door to his apartment. I paused at the threshold. Once I knew the truth, my whole life would change. As much as I wanted to unravel all the lies, I was afraid.
His eyebrows lifted slightly…expectantly. “Are you coming in?”
I took a tentative step back. What was I doing? Did I really want to know the truth? Did I really want to alienate my friends and family for a man I didn’t know? Could I trust him? My gaze darted down the hall in the direction of the elevator, and for a brief second, I considered running away from him. From everything. From everyone. I could move across the country and start over, become somebody different. Somebody better. Stronger.
“Hattie. What are you doing?”
An involuntary whimper escaped my mouth. I could’ve been killed tonight. Even though I’d left Mexico, nothing had changed. “I’m scared.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he said, his voice soft, almost gentle.
His words should’ve reassured me, but they didn’t. Instead, they made me realize I was in danger. He believed I was in danger.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “You can’t control everything.”
The roughened pads of his fingers skated down my face, caressing my cheek. A tremor of desire and fear raced down my spine.
“You’re right, but are you willing to give up so easily?”
I opened my eyes and lifted my chin. I wasn’t a quitter. “No.”
One side of his mouth curled up into a lopsided grin. “I didn’t think so.”
He threaded his fingers through mine, pulling me through his nearly empty apartment. I scanned the empty walls, the bare floors, and the smattering of furniture. “This is—”
He shrugged. “Not much of a home. I’ve never gotten around to doing anything.”
I trailed my finger through the veil of dust on a small rectangular table, leaving a clean line on
the espresso-colored wood. “How long have you lived here?”
“Five years.”
My eyebrows jumped up my forehead. “Wow.”
“I know.” He chuckled. “Come with me. We can talk in my office.”
We reached the end of the hall, and he pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocking a dark-walnut paneled door.
“Why the secrecy?” I asked, stepping into the room.
“I don’t like anyone going through my papers. Sit.” He motioned to a chair in front of his desk.
“So formal,” I said. As I settled into the chair, a giggle escaped out of my mouth, more from nerves than the situation. The rich smell of worn leather enveloped me.
He pulled a file folder out of a desk drawer and settled into lounge chair behind the desk. “Did you tell Evan anything about us?”
“No. I haven’t talked to him since that night at the restaurant.” His eyes narrowed. “I know I promised to call him, but I haven’t done it. I didn’t know what to say to him.”
He opened the file folder, but I couldn’t see anything. “What about Vera?”
“Nothing. I swear. Except—”
“Except what?”
Blood flooded my cheeks. “I told her I was seeing someone, but I refused to tell her any details about you or us.”
“You didn’t tell anyone else? A therapist? Maybe you wrote something in a diary or a journal.”
“No.” Then, I remembered the pregnancy test I never removed from cabinet underneath the sink. My stomach dropped. “Well, I took a pregnancy test. I hid it under the bathroom sink at Evan’s apartment. I didn’t want to put it in the trash, but then I forgot about it.”
Ryker leaned back in his chair. “He’d think it was his.”
“No, he wouldn’t. We haven’t…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t want to have this conversation with him. “Just no.”
“What I tell you right now cannot go anywhere. You can’t tell your family. You can’t tell Vera, and you certainly can’t confront Evan or his family.”
