by Mann, Marni
I lifted my glass of wine and held it between my hands and shifted in my seat so I faced him. Before tonight, I hadn’t asked Ryder any questions about Cameron or their childhood. But Ryder had discussed this with such an ease that made me feel comfortable enough to ask. It didn’t make hearing his response easy. Those were the years that Cameron had only shown me brief glimpses of. I was eager to hear Ryder’s take. I knew he’d have a completely different perspective on things.
“Who took his voice away?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Could have been anyone. There were a lot of different men around us when we were growing up. My mother’s bedroom had a revolving door, and during our stints in foster care, the fathers weren’t exactly role models. Those places we stayed in…they were pretty fucking ugly.”
“He’s told me a little. Not much, though.”
“He took a lot of hits for me, my brother.” He picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth, and drained the rest of his wine, showing me I wasn’t the only one feeling the emotion in this conversation. Then he moved to the other side of the island to grab the bottle, and he filled both of our glasses. “That kid was my everything. I looked up to him like no one else. He had this magical talent where he could take anythingcrayon, marker, paintand use it to create a masterpiece. And he was so smart…me, not so much. I was okay with words, but I was better with my fists. Cam still wouldn’t let me fight them off, though. He took every blow.” He shook his head, the lines in his forehead deepening.
“Is that why you became a cop? To keep things like this from happening to anyone else?”
He shrugged. “Yeah…I figured there wasn’t anything better I could do with my life than put bastards like that away. Those fuckers shouldn’t be allowed to house kids. Shit, they shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near kids—period. And mothers like mine should have their tubes tied during their first stay in prison.”
The door off the entryway opened. The noise startled us both. When Cameron walked through, we looked up and met his vacant eyes. He didn’t appear surprised to find us in the kitchen, together, facing each other from opposite sides of the counter. He didn’t appear to care, either.
“You come for your plate, Cam?” Ryder asked him.
Cameron didn’t answer. He moved down the hallway and disappeared into the bedroom. He was only gone for a few minutes, returning with a different outfit on and a splash of cologne on his skin. I could smell it in the air.
“I’m headed to a meeting,” he said, not looking at either of us. “I’ll see you both later.”
He finally glanced at me just as the elevator door was coming to a close. I could feel his gaze sear through my whole body. The silence was painful, but the lack of emotion was even worse. It wasn’t a look of seduction, of intimacy or love. It was a glare filled with secrets. He didn’t look angry, or as if he was trying to be punishing. He just looked lost.
“Isn’t that the third night this week he’s gone out?” Ryder asked.
I nodded.
“Is he usually gone this much?”
The wine was really starting to hit me. I could feel my skin beginning to get flushed and my head turning light and fuzzy. I cut off a chunk of chicken and popped it into my mouth. I didn’t mind the buzz; I just didn’t want to get sloppy. “Sometimes.” There was no reason to lie. “No, actually, not really.”
“Don’t you think you deserve better than that?”
I swallowed my chicken. “This is coming from the guy who hired me at a brothel…”
I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
“Don’t say that, Charlie. I don’t care what you did in that mansion; you still deserve respect. I always gave you that.”
“I’m sorry, it’s the wine. My filter is gone.”
“Don’t apologize.” There was a light in his eyes and it spread to his lips. “I like this side of you, too….almost as much as the others.”
I didn’t want to think back to those evenings inside the mansion where he saw those other sides, but I did. And I had…often. Since Ryder had been living here, I couldn’t stop my brain from going there— even more so now that I wasn’t being touched by Cameron. The only pleasure I was receiving was that from the tips of my fingers.
“Yes, that’s what you gave me.” I knew I was biting my lip. But I couldn’t release it…it was too tempting. “And more.”
“That mask may have hidden part of your face, but it didn’t hide any of your heart.”
My teeth released my lip and my mouth parted, but nothing came out. His words weren’t what I’d expected. My filter may have been gone, but I was completely speechless. He had felt something more from me. Was he still feeling it now? And did he mean it, or had my pussy fooled him into thinking it was more than it had actually been?
The answer should have been so obvious. But it wasn’t. I was staring at this man before me, a study in contrasts to his brother—the man I was making a life with—and I was secretly comparing the two of them. Not just their physical appearance, but the emotions that rested within their hearts. The one I hardly knew without a mask on was putting his feelings out there, giving me words I never thought I’d hear, while the one I’d bared my soul to was running away from me.
This was so completely fucked.
“My job is to read people when they’re silent, predicting their next move and whether it’s the truth or lies that are coming from their mouth. You can say whatever you want, Charlie, but I know you think about what happened between us.” He didn’t move closer, though it felt like he had crossed the counter and was standing directly in front of me, his hands running down my whole body. “We were too good together for you not to think about it.”
The intercom phone began to ring, which was the line that connected our apartment to the front desk downstairs. I dragged myself away from the island and moved over to the wall, lifted the receiver and placed it against my ear. “Hello?” I said.
“Miss Charlie, it’s Larry from the front desk, we have a package for you. It requires your signature. Would you like me to bring it up or”
“I’ll be right down,” I answered, and I hung up the phone. After pushing the button for the elevator, I turned around. There was a little confusion on Ryder’s face along with some fervor. “They have a package for me downstairs. I…need to go.” I didn’t wait for his response. I just stepped inside as the door opened and kept my head down.
Once I arrived in the lobby, Larry handed me the machine that required my electronic signature. I signed and exchanged it for the package, checking the name of the sender and the return address. I didn’t recognize either. The envelope was standard, the kind used to ship paperwork, but it didn’t feel like there was any paper inside. Whatever it was felt much thicker than that.
I thanked Larry and moved back into the elevator. As soon as it started rising, I heard a ringing come from inside the package. My pulse spiked, and my hands shook as I ripped off the glued-down lip and reached in. The envelope contained only one item: a black flip phone that didn’t have a screen on the front, which made it impossible to check caller ID. But something told me I wouldn’t recognize the number, even if I had seen it.
It all led me to believe only one thing: they’d figured out my relationship with the Doctor.
They…it was a term I had used so often with my father, since he wouldn’t list any of the mansion’s owners by name. But aside from Victoria, I couldn’t think of anyone else who would send me a phone in such a sinister manner. I had the feeling that if I ignored the call, they would find another way to contact me. I had to face whatever it was they wanted from me.
“This is Charlie,” I said. I tried to control the shakiness of my voice, but the wine wasn’t helping. I regretted drinking the few glasses. I needed a clear head and…a plan.
“Have I caught you at a good time, Charlie, or should I call back?”
The voice shocked me. I hadn’t expected to hear it, on this phone or any other. As soon as
it stopped, I missed it. The familiarity…the sympathy. The warmth.
I missed him.
“Dad? Is everything okay?”
Fuck. The wine…again. I had never called my father, Dad, but in this moment it just felt right. Maybe it was out of relief that it was him and not someone else. Maybe it was out of concern because I didn’t know why he was contacting me. Maybe it was because he was my only family and I needed him.
Whatever the reason, I was glad it had happened.
“Yes,” he said, his voice softening. “Everything is fine, Charlie.”
Ryder was probably still in the kitchen waiting for me to return. I didn’t want to show up with a different cell phone on my ear and risk the chance of him hearing me. I hadn’t told him anything about my father and I didn’t plan to, so I pressed the elevator button that would take me to the studio.
“You sound like you’re so close. Are you?” I asked, taking a seat on the couch in the back of the room. Now that I knew nothing was wrong, I spread out across the cushions.
“No. Unfortunately, I’m not anywhere near you. I wish I were.”
“I thought we weren’t able to speak on the phone…that you thought it would be best if all our communication was done through the mail.”
“I got your letter. It sounded like you needed someone to listen. Since I can’t be there, I thought this would be the next best thing.”
He always erred on the side of caution when it came to me, but my letter must have really held a sense of urgency. That had been such a horrible day, and things hadn’t gotten much better afterward. But hearing his voice allowed me to breathe a little easier.
“I’m really glad you called.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Cameron is…distant now. He told me that he didn’t blame me, that he just needs time. But he isn’t really talking to me, he’s not sleeping in our bed, and he hasn’t touched me.” My voice started to get softer toward the end. I didn’t know what was appropriate to tell him or what to leave out. We didn’t exactly have the typical father-daughter relationship. I hoped he would have stopped me if I’d been making him uncomfortable.
“Is he speaking to his brother?”
“Not him, either,” I said. “Ryder is living with us until he finds an apartment of his own. I don’t even know if he’s looking for one, he seems to like our place.”
“Maybe he just enjoys being around you.”
I sighed. “It’s messy. All of it.”
“Are you giving Cameron the space he needs? You aren’t hovering, are you…waiting for him to come to his senses?”
I sat up, put my feet on the floor and rested my elbows on my knees. “I’m not going anywhere near him, really. I pop into the studio after class and again before I go to sleep just so he knows where I am. That’s it, though, and those are really the only times I see him. And I make sure each visit is brief.”
“He’s having a hard time processing, I imagine.”
“It’s not like I’m being unsympathetic; I understand how he feels. I would hate it, too, if I were in his position. But I don’t know what to do. I sure as hell can’t fix it or undo it, but I also can’t keep living like this. He either needs to talk to me or dump me entirely. The time he asked for just isn’t making any of this any better…this shit isn’t normal.”
“I don’t think you and Cameron have ever had normal, considering where you both started and the circumstances that kept you apart and what brought you together again. And knowing a bit about him, I think the brother aspect was just a tad too sensitive. He’ll come around.”
I agreed with everything he’d said…except the last part. I didn’t know for sure if he really would come around. When and if he did, would it be too late? I didn’t want to be punished for something that really wasn’t my fault. But that’s what it felt like he was doing to me.
Was it truly hopeless at this point?
“Do you love him?” he asked.
This one caught me by surprise. Did I love Cameron? Did I understand the meaning of love any more than the last time I had considered it? I didn’t think so. But based on my history with men, I never would have put up with this had it been anyone else. As for Ryder, I wasn’t sure what to do with him, or why a tiny part of me was turned on when he flirted, when he demanded, when his eyes roamed my body when he thought I wasn’t looking. I hoped he’d been sincere about our connection, and that it hadn’t been just because I knew how well he fucked.
Why would I have even thought something like that?
I needed to focus on Cameron.
“I think so,” I answered. “I mean…I don’t know. Dammit, I don’t really know anything right now.”
“When you figure it out, you need to tell him how you feel. If, at that point, things don’t get better then I think it’s time for both of you to move on.”
He was right. And even though he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, it was still nice to hear it from him.
“Thank you.”
“That’s not the only reason I called,” he said.
“No?”
“It took over a week for that letter to arrive. In the meantime, I felt like you could have used someone to talk to. I know there are times when I need someone. So I want you to keep this phone in a safe place and to call me whenever you need me. My number is programmed in the log.”
“Should I still write?”
“You can, of course, if you want to, but why don’t we plan on talking once a week? Same day, same time good for you?”
I didn’t know if he could hear it in my voice, but I was definitely smiling. “Yes, that works for me.”
“Okay, then. I’ll speak to you next week. Good night, Charlie.”
“Good night…” I stopped myself before I called him Dad again.
Once was more than enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AS SOON AS OUR CALL ENDED, I heard the studio door open. I quickly tucked the cell into my pocket and leaned back into the couch.
“Everything all right in here?” Ryder asked.
I glanced over at him. “Fine. Thanks.”
He had changed into a white wife-beater and a pair of oversized gray sweatpants. It was an athletic look, similar to something Dallas would wear, and Ryder had the athlete’s body to pull it off. The script that was inked on his chest and stomach were so dark. With the overhead light shining down on him, I could almost read the tattoos through the thin cotton.
Always Stay True To You.
I had kissed my way across those words many times. Suddenly, they had meaning beyond the mansion.
“I was worried about you,” he said. “I went downstairs to look for you, but Larry said you’d headed back. I heard your voice when I came up…”
“I had to make a quick call.”
He walked to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge, handing one to me before he took a seat on the couch. There was only a cushion between us. It wasn’t enough…or maybe it was too much.
I knew it felt different having Ryder in this space. The studio was our room—mine and Cameron’s, a place where we’d spent so much significant time together. It was where he’d first kissed me, where we’d first painted together. I wondered now if we’d had the last of our firsts.
Always Stay True To You.
“Charlie…”
I didn’t want to look at him, but I did it anyway. My face turned slowly and my eyes followed as I met his glare. Even their color was a warning; it was the same shade I used whenever I created a storm. Thunder. There was a pull coming from him and it wasn’t from his touch, or the rhythm of his breathing. It was his entire presence. It played with each of my senses, tricking me into thinking he was touching me and his breath was wrapping around me.
I broke our gaze and took a sip of the beer. I kept the bottle at my lips, chugging until the back of my throat burned.
“Take it easy,” he said, his hand gently
touching the glass.
My stare landed on his fingers, which were an immediate trigger. Memories of his hands filled my head, the way he had used them to make me come. My body was filled with tingles. It started on the inside of my thighs and began to spread upward until it reached my throat.
It only took a few more gulps before the bottle was empty. I pulled it from my lips and licked away the wetness. His eyes moved to my mouth. His hands remained clasped in front of him. They appeared to be struggling to say still and closed…and off of me.
Just breathe through it, Charlie.
Emma’s voice came in, talking me off the ledge.
“I can’t do this,” I blurted out. We weren’t doing anything, but I knew I had to get out of here. I could only imagine what we would do if I stayed.
“Charlie—stop,” he shouted.
I didn’t listen. I continued into the kitchen and yanked another beer from the fridge. I opened it and took another sip before I faced him again.
“Tell me you feel it, too,” he said.
The lump in the back of my throat was making it difficult to talk, but the rage in my chest was pushing its way through. It wasn’t Ryder who made me angry; it was the situation, the fact that I had gotten myself into something this complicated, the idea it was him standing in front of me and not Cameron.
I shook my head. “My feelings don’t matter here, Ryder.”
“They matter to me.”
“What are you going to do once I tell you?” He took a step forward, and I moved back. “Don’t do that.”
His hands went in his pockets. He looked at the floor and my eyes met the top of his head and the scruff that trailed down his cheeks. I remembered grabbing his hair, pulling on it as his tongue lapped my pussy.
“I just want to touch you again,” he said, gradually meeting my face.
Every time he spoke, my anger flared. I couldn’t stand that I felt completely helpless to turn and leave. “So what—you’re going to kiss me in your brother’s house? Fuck me on his floor?”
