The Secrets We Keep

by Hannah Davenport

  I know that Luca calls Tyler every week and asks about her. I also know that I’m a bastard for not telling her, but I wanted a chance.

  “It’s okay, Brylee.”

  A sad smile graces her face. “You were my first friend, and I love you for that. And then you rushed to my rescue. But I can’t sleep with you while I still think about someone else.”

  “You sleep with me all the time.”

  She laughs and swats my arm. “You know what I mean.”

  “It’s alright, really. It would probably never work anyway.”

  “Because of your job?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve already thought about that. If I was waiting on you at home while you were shacked up with some girl for a few months, I’d be pissed.”

  I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. I’m disappointed but not surprised. My job does keep me away for long periods of time, but I wonder what it would be like to take a desk job, come home to her every evening. For Brylee, I would be willing to try. But not until she’s sure and I’m the only one she has feelings for. So I’ll keep it to myself, and if going back to Luca makes her happy, I’ll let her go. Until then . . .

  The stove beeps, alerting me that the oven has preheated.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Six Weeks Later

  Ariel

  Zack is on the phone while I’m watching Cops. A breaking news alert interrupts the program, announcing that Frank Stone had been sentenced to life in prison. I switch over to a news channel, hoping to find out more.

  Zack clicks off the phone. A grin spreads across his face. “It’s over.”

  “Really?” I swallow hard, my heart racing as a nervous energy courses through my body.

  “Yes, really. Time to go home.”

  Happy tears flood my eyes as I throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I can see the sadness in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know, if you don’t want to go back to New York, you can stay with me.”

  It’s tempting. Zack is everything you could want in a boyfriend, and I wish I felt that all-consuming desire for him. The kind I felt with Luca. But I don’t.

  “I appreciate that, I really do. But now that I’m not hiding anymore, I need to find out who I am.”

  “Are you going back to Luca?” There’s no judgment in his voice.

  “No. Or rather, I have no plans to right now. I’m sure he’s moved on.” I’m anxious to see Luca, but I’ve also braced for the possibility that he has someone else in his life. And who could blame him? I just disappeared and haven’t spoken to him for months.

  Zack leans in and kisses me tenderly. I savor the feel of his lips on mine. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

  “I know, Altruist,” I flash him a smile. “You know, that really was a fitting name.”

  “Thanks. How did you come up with Syrah?”

  “Syrah is a dark-colored grape used in making red wine.” He laughs. “And I just like the name.”

  I want to pack my stuff, but I’m sad that my time with Zack is over. He’s my best friend, and I’ll miss him.

  Back in New York

  Sitting outside my apartment, I turn to Zack. “Want to come in?”

  “Nah, I need to get back.”

  I swallow hard. Letting him drive away is harder than I thought it would be. You can’t spend every day and night together for weeks and not have something special, even if it is only friendship.

  I lean over and give him a heartfelt hug. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Anytime.” He pulls out a card and hands it to me. “If you ever need me, just call.”

  “What? No late-night chatting anymore?” I grin, but I know that will never be the same. The mystery is gone.

  “Anytime you want to talk, I’m here. But I think you’ll be too busy.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re free. The man who was after you is dead. Frank’s behind bars.” He shrugs. “I talked to Tyler and they have everyone else in custody.”

  I’m free. Free to tell people who I am, where I came from. The thought of being so open is scary and exciting. A huge grin spreads across my face. “Thanks, Zack.” I give him another hug before I open the passenger door and climb out, gently closing it behind me.

  The red door of my apartment looms, making my heart race with excitement. It has always been my safe haven, but I never really knew how much I actually love it.

  Down the steps, I take the keys Zack gave me, and with a shaky hand, I unlock the door.

  It’s just the way I left it. Even my wine glass is sitting on the counter next to my computer, a little mold growing around the inside of the glass. My nose crinkles at the smell.

  Hmm . . . my eyes narrow on the couch. Why is it still intact? I know Davie said the FBI was guarding my apartment, but I’m still surprised.

  In the kitchen, I open a drawer and grab a pair of scissors. As much as I hate to destroy my couch, I need to see if the money is still there.

  There are three cushions in all, so I grab the one on the left first, and slowly start cutting at the seams.

  Instead of just stuffing the money inside, I had placed the money in the middle of the cushions then added foam for a little extra protection.

  My heart pounds with excitement when I see the first hundred-dollar bill. It’s still there! I lean back on my knees, my hands resting on my thighs as I gasp for breath. Breathe, Ariel . . . in . . . out. Just breathe.

  My eyes dart back to the money. No one is looking for it, and, right or wrong, it’s mine. After all the shit I’ve been through the last few years, and after almost getting killed, it’s money well earned.

  I remove the stack of money from the cushion and then move onto the second cushion, then the third. It’s all neatly stacked on the floor. I don’t know how much is there, but it has to be at least $100,000. More, probably.

  It’s so surreal. I’ve always had it, but I never considered it mine. There were so many things I wanted to do but never afforded myself the luxury. As I stare at the money, my mind churns with possibilities.

  Then my stomach rumbles, reminding me that I still need food. Everything in the refrigerator has expired so I throw it away. With no cell phone, I walk to the corner market and buy a few groceries, enough to get by for a day or two.

  After putting everything away, I grab a can of tuna and some crackers, head to the couch, and try to find something to watch on TV.

  The next morning, I wake with a grin on my face after the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. I make a cup of tea and jump in the shower.

  Just the familiarity of everything is comforting, but I’m ready to make a few changes.

  I throw open the closet door and pull out my familiar clothes . . . my safe clothes. An extra purse hangs in the back of the closet so I snatch it while I’m there, then grab some cash and gently fold it before placing it in the purse right before I head out, locking the door behind me.

  First stop, the Sprint store. I need a new cell phone. Once I explain what happened, they are more than willing to transfer my old number to the new phone, along with all five of my contacts.

  Next stop, a hair salon. I need a new look for a brand-new beginning. Not really, but it feels like it.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the hair stylist asks.

  “I don’t. Is there any way to work me in?”

  Her gaze roams my body from head to toe before saying with a grimace, “Normally I would say no, but if anyone needs something done with their hair, it’s you. Have a seat.”

  Eagerly, I head over and plop down in the chair. The door chimes when someone walks in.

  “Hi, Ginger. It’ll be about thirty minutes before I can get to you. Sorry, hon.”

  “No problem. I don’t have any more errands today.”

  Ginger must be the next appointment, and I took her place.

  The s
tylist runs her hand through my hair. “What would you like?”

  I stare at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair reaches halfway down my back. There’s nothing remarkable about it. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s start with something not too drastic and then we can go from there.”

  I smile at the redheaded stylist in the mirror. “That sounds good.”

  She cuts inches from the bottom and then blows it dry. When she finishes, I can’t believe my eyes. It’s shoulder length, maybe a little longer, and has long layers that make it bouncy when I turn my head.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I do.” I turn my head one way and then the other while looking in the mirror. “I really do. Thanks!”

  “You’re welcome,” she says with a smile. I pay her the sixty bucks and head out.

  Next stop, shopping. I’d never really enjoyed shopping before, but Zack helped me realize it can be fun, and somehow that started a change in me. And today I feel different on the inside and I want it to show on the outside.

  Inside Macy’s department store, I browse the women’s clothes, not really knowing what to buy.

  “May I help you?” asks an older woman with a warm smile.

  “Maybe. I need all new clothes and I have no idea where to start.”

  “I can help you.” With a wave of her hand she says, “First, let’s head to the young adult section. I think you’ll find more satisfying items there.”

  “Okay.” I shoot her a smile of my own and follow her to a different section of the store.

  “By the way, my name is Renee.”

  I hesitate. Do I tell her my name is Ariel or Brylee? She’s looking at me expectantly and I don’t know what to do. My new life started in New York as Ariel, so I decide to keep it. “Ariel,” I say with my own smile. I am Ariel Hancock. I make a mental note to find out how to legally change it.

  “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you.”

  Renee looks through racks, picking out shirts and holding them up to me. Some she keeps, some she discards. By the time she finishes, I’ve tried on half the store and now have shirts, jeans, dress clothes, dresses, and shoes to pay for.

  I leave the store $2000 lighter, dressed in a new pair of slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and some loafer pumps. It’ll take time to get used to the heels. The rest of my things will be delivered tomorrow. It feels amazing to give out my address.

  It’s almost five o’clock when I grab a sandwich from one of the street vendors. Turkey on rye is one of my favorites, so I take my time eating before tossing the plastic wrapper in the trash.

  One more stop left to make. I’ve thought about it a lot, and it’s something I want to do. Now if they can get me in without an appointment . . .

  It’s late when I arrive back home. At least I think so until I glance at my phone. It’s only nine. Damn Zack for changing my sleeping schedule. I smile anyway. I want to call Luca, but I also want to let my wound heal, and I want to spend a little time by myself. It’s funny, I don’t know who I am, and I need to take a little time and find out.

  I head to the kitchen, open the new bottle of Apothic Red, and pour a glass before plopping down on my mutilated couch. I should have bought a new one today. I pick up the remote and click through the channels, trying to find something to watch.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two Weeks Later

  Luca

  The trial ended two weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything since. The FBI agent won’t answer my calls, and I don’t know where Ariel is, when she’s coming back, if she’s coming back, and it’s killing me. I had Marco look into it, but he couldn’t find out anything.

  Every time I close my eyes, I feel her sweet lips on mine, see her smiling face, hear her innocent laugh. A thousand times I’ve wished I had spent that night with her. She asked but I told her no. I shake my head . . . I told her no.

  Two months ago, I bought a pair of jogging pants and some T-shirts and sweatshirts, just to feel a little closer to Ariel. But the clothes don’t feel right in my penthouse.

  So I do the same thing every night. I come to my club and watch everyone else have a great time.

  It’s ten on a Friday night and I’m in my office staring down at the dance floor. I’m not surprised Jimmy isn’t here with his friend Alina. They haven’t been in since Ariel went missing.

  It’s all the same. Everyone looking for company, either for life or just for the night. I’m not really paying attention until she walks in.

  She’s wearing a tight blue dress, so unlike the blacks and reds most of the women wear here. I can’t see her face, but she has blonde hair that reaches her shoulders, a few curls at the ends. She walks with confidence as she heads to a small round table that sits in the middle of the room against the wall. All I can see is her back. She crosses her shapely legs, showing her slim ankles and five-inch heels.

  I’m torn. This pull I feel is one I’ve felt only once before. I’m intrigued and a little upset. How dare she make me feel this way. This pull feels wrong coming from someone else. But I need to find out who she is.

  I snap my fingers. Tony steps forward.

  “Yes, boss.”

  “I’m going down for a closer look. Stay here.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  I head down the hallway, taking the stairs one at a time.

  With my back against the wall, I still can’t see her face, only a slight side view. Her ruby red lips close around a straw, and my dick twitches. The side of her lip curls slightly and I know she knows I’m watching her. I can feel it deep inside. She’s playing with me.

  Just as I’m about to head back upstairs, she turns around and flashes me a seductive smile.

  My heart stutters, before it hammers away in my chest. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on is smiling at me.

  She elegantly stands.

  Uncaring of anyone else around, I stalk over to her, pushing dancers out of my way. Without a word, I wrap my arms around her, bend her backward, and crash my lips down on her mouth. Her arms circle my neck and my tongue swirls with hers. When the kiss ends, she’s still dipped backward, my mouth a mere inch from hers, when I say, “I can’t believe you’re here.” She giggles, and the sound is music to my ears. Standing up straight, I take her hand. “Come on.” We race up the staircase and into my office.

  Tony stands outside and I see his eyes light and a smile tease his lips. He opens the door for us, then gently closes it behind us.

  I spin around and take her lips once again in a searing kiss. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

  “Well, I am,” she grins.

  She looks different. More confident in the way she’s dressed, even down to her smoky eyes and ruby lips. I like it.

  With one hand on the small of her back, the other around the back of her neck, I kiss her. Softly at first as her lips move over mine, and then I deepen the kiss. Her lips are so warm, luscious. I deepen the kiss more, my tongue seeking hers, needing to feel the same desire in her that’s humming throughout my body. Can she feel how much I missed her?

  Without breaking the kiss, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the sofa. Gently, I lower her down, her body stretched out underneath me as I come down on top of her.

  My fingers tenderly skim her jaw, caressing her neck as my lips follow the path. In between kisses, I say, “I’ve missed you, Ariel.”

  Breathlessly she answers, “I’ve missed you too, Luca.”

  With slow movements, I slide a dress strap from her shoulder, kissing its bare path. My hands snake around her back, she arches, and I unzip the dress. Her bare breasts are beautiful, her nipples hard. I can’t resist. My tongue darts out, swirling around the peak until I suck it into my mouth.

  “Oh, Luca . . . that feels so good.” She tilts her head back, pressing more into my mouth.

  As I suckle her beast, my hands inch her dress down further, needing every inch of her. Not wanting the other one to
be jealous, I give the other breast the same attention. Not rushing. It’s been so long since I’ve held her . . .

  Inching down her body, taking her blue dress as I go, I rain kisses between her breasts down to her bellybutton. I keep going, my hands on her hips as I hook her panties, taking them down with the dress.

  “Luca . . .”

  I know I’m driving her crazy, but I want to savor this moment.

  With her panties and dress piled on the floor, I use my finger and skim the inside of her thigh. “I want to see you.” With a hand on each thigh, I press, and she opens for me. I can see how wet she is.

  I drag the tip of one finger over her sensitive nub and she jerks slightly. I pull my gaze from her entrance so I can see her face when I plunge a finger inside her. She throws her head back and moans. Slowly, I pump my finger in and out as I watch the unbridled passion on her face.

  I’m so hard. My head dips between her legs. I remove my finger and replace it with my tongue, tasting every drop of her.

  “Luca . . . I’m going to come . . .”

  “Then come for me, Ariel,” I murmur, letting my breath brush over her sensitive core. She screams as her hips buck wildly, her head tilted back, mouth partly open. I can’t wait any longer. Quickly, I shuck off my clothes. With one knee on the couch between her thighs, I hook my hand under her knee and open her to me.

  One hard thrust and I’m buried to the hilt. I can’t be gentle, not now. I’ve missed her too much. One hard thrust after another, I give her everything. My hips rock fast and almost violently as I let go of my fear, my guilt for not staying with her.

  She screams at the same time I hold myself deep inside, coming so hard it’s almost painful. And then I collapse on top of her, supporting my weight with my elbows.

  Breathing hard, I say it again. “I’ve missed you, Ariel.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  And then I take her lips in a tender kiss as my hips gently rock, taking her slow this time. I never want to let her out from under me, or out of my sight.

  ~~~~

  After we dress, I take her hand and we sit on the couch. My arm drapes around her shoulder, refusing to have space between us. “Where have you been?”