by Devney Perry
My street was quiet when I pulled into the garage. So was the condo.
I walked in, tossed my purse aside and shrugged off my jacket. Then I stood in the living room, frozen, because the next step terrified me. The next step was the truth.
The truth.
Did I even know what the truth was? When had I become this pathological liar? When had I lost my way?
Maybe I’d never had it. My name was a lie. My family was a lie. My entire life was a lie.
Was that why Shelby never called herself Shelby? Was that why she didn’t talk about our childhood or our father? Because she looked at her past and saw the lies? She’d made her future nothing but truths.
Oh, God. Emmett would never forgive me. When I told him the truth, he’d never forgive me, and I’d lose him.
I loved him. And I was going to lose him. Actually, I’d lost him the moment we’d met. This ending had only been a matter of time.
My soul ached and I couldn’t breathe.
There had to be another way, right? There had to be a way to fix this tangled mess.
“I need a new plan,” I whispered to the empty room.
A knock at the door made me jump and slam a hand to my racing heart. I knew before checking the peephole who stood on my stoop. I twisted the lock and there he was.
He’d found me.
I stepped back and opened the door to let Emmett inside.
He leveled me with that deep brown gaze but whatever anger and emotion I’d seen at the restaurant was gone. Instead he looked . . . blank. The look on his face gave me chills, and I shut the door, barely able to fill my lungs.
I wasn’t sure who this man was. Whatever familiarity I’d seen in him before was gone.
He studied me like I was a stranger too.
I was a stranger.
“Ace, I . . .” I didn’t know what to say.
His jaw, already clenched, turned to granite.
We stared at one another. Guilt crept over my skin like a rash.
He didn’t move.
The silence was overpowering. I forced my body to stay still but the tension became so heavy that it pulled like a thousand pounds on my shoulders.
“Say something,” I whispered. “Please.”
He stayed quiet.
“How did you know where I was?” I wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d come to Missoula to spend the weekend with me. He was here because he knew.
He had to know.
His laptops.
Shit. Maybe he’d found the receiver. Since Hacker’s warning, I’d known this was a possibility. That was why I’d fled Clifton Forge. What exactly had I expected, Emmett to just let me walk away?
God, but I was a fool.
Did he know exactly who I was? Did he just suspect I’d been up to something? Had he come here to surprise me, only to find me on a date?
“The man at the restaurant . . . nothing happened.” For some reason, explaining why I was on a date—or part of the reason—was the easiest truth to begin with. “I dated him for a while earlier this year. Dinner tonight was a mistake. I knew it the moment I sat down.”
Emmett didn’t so much as blink.
“Please . . . say something,” I begged. Anything.
“What is your name?”
“Nova.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I flinched at the volume of his demand. “It’s the truth.”
“What’s your last name?”
Talbot. “Johnson.”
He studied my face, searching for the lie. But again, it was the truth. Both names were part of the truth and part of the lie.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
As my words echoed around us, disappointment washed over his face. It tore me in half.
He’d hate me. After tonight, he’d hate me.
But I was truly sorry.
Emmett shook his head, the pain in his expression like a knife to my heart. Everything was falling apart and all we could do was stand here and stare at one another.
Then he moved, not for the door, but for me. He shook his head as his hands came to my face. The pain there, the raw regret, caused my eyes to flood.
I deserved to cry. I deserved to hurt. For everything I’d done to this man, for everything I’d planned to do, I deserved every stab.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again. “I’m sorry.”
It was all I could say. My only hope left was that when he walked away, he might believe it.
“Why?” he gritted out.
For my father. For my brother.
I opened my mouth to answer but the words never came.
He waited, studying my face. And when I didn’t answer, a wall came down between us. He shut me out completely.
I braced, ready for him to storm out the door, but instead, he only held my face tighter.
His lip curled. Then his mouth slammed down on mine, shocking the hell out of me with a kiss that was nothing but agonizing punishment.
He licked my bottom lip and I opened for him. His tongue thrust inside and there was nothing sweet or affectionate about this kiss. He was angry and poured it down my throat. The nips of his teeth weren’t playful. The way he sucked was intended to cause a sting.
I let him be angry. I let him empty that rage into my mouth because I knew this was the last kiss. This was the end and if all I could have of Emmett was his fury, I’d take it.
His arms moved from my face, sliding over my shoulders and down my spine. His hands moved much like his tongue, in fierce, bold movements. I wouldn’t let tonight ruin the memory of his gentle caresses. The way a man so large could be so tender.
Emmett’s hands dropped to my ass, molding to my curves. Then he squeezed so hard I felt the indents of his fingerprints through my dress. He pulled me into his body, slamming us together so I could feel his arousal against my hip.
Maybe a smarter woman would have pushed him away. But Emmett needed an angry, hard fuck, and there was no chance in hell I’d let him walk out this door and find it somewhere else.
My hands went to his shirt, shoving up beneath the hem and finding his washboard abs. I raked my nails over his skin, digging in to leave a mark.
His response was to stretch those long arms to the hem of my skirt, grip it between his strong fists, and shred it up the seam.
I gasped as a rush of desire pooled between my legs.
If Emmett needed to tear the clothes from my body, so be it.
The tear went from my knees to the small of my back. His hands instantly found my skin, his grip bruising.
I moaned, the throb in my core almost unbearable as he kneaded and palmed my upper thighs. In one swift hoist, he had me up and walked me to the island, setting me on the cold granite counter.
Not once did he break his mouth from mine. He devoured and conquered and punished.
I fumbled with his shirt, doing my best to get it up and over his head. But he wouldn’t let me. He kept his arms locked and no matter how high I lifted the cotton, he refused to take it off.
He was staying clothed.
I was not.
He yanked the zipper on my dress, the sound a whizz rather than the smooth clicks from when I’d put it on earlier. Fisting the ripped edges from the skirt, he jerked the entire garment over my head, leaving me in nothing but a bra and lace thong.
The panties were shredded in a quick snap. The bra was unclasped and torn off my arms, leaving me completely exposed and bare.
But that was the point of this, wasn’t it?
Emmett tore his lips from mine and stared at me, our chests rising and falling in the same desperate heaves to suck in some oxygen.
His gaze bored into mine and in it, a plea.
Tell me.
All I could do was send my own plea back.
Forgive me.
I lifted a hand to cup his face, feeling the scratch of his beard. He leaned into my hand and for a brief second, I glimpsed the Emmett I loved.
Then, quicker t
han I could snap my fingers, it was gone. That wall was in place and he was here for a purpose.
Without a word, he unbuckled his belt, opened his fly and fisted his hard cock.
He inched forward, fitting the crown to my entrance. He didn’t bother moving his jeans or boxer briefs down his thighs.
He knew I was a liar and this was a fuck to balance the scales.
Forgive me.
I widened my legs, holding on to his shoulders as he thrust inside, driving hard and deep. I moaned, the sound echoing in the kitchen as he moved, in and out. He didn’t kiss or caress me, keeping his hands on the counter beside my hips. Other than where we were joined, he didn’t so much as touch me.
And with every one of his strokes, it broke my heart.
I’d done this to us. I’d ruined us.
We’d been doomed from the start.
I held his gaze, the fury rising in those beautiful eyes. All I could hope was that he’d hear my plea and see the love and apology in mine.
Forgive me.
My body reacted to him the way it always did, with a blind and insatiable desire for more, more, more. Whether he wanted my touch or not, I clutched his shoulders and held on as long as I could before the pleasure became too much. I closed my eyes and pretended he wasn’t hate fucking me in my kitchen.
I surrendered to him, coming on a cry, spasming and clenching around him so hard I worried I’d slip off the counter. He’d probably let me fall. But I managed to keep my seat until Emmett let out a groan of his own, squeezing his eyes shut as he poured into me.
The stars had barely cleared from my eyes as he pulled out. I forced my eyes open and hopped off the counter onto unsteady legs.
Emmett took two steps backward. He tucked himself back into his jeans, zipping himself up and refastening his belt. Then he stared, his hands on his hips, waiting for my confession.
My eyes flooded. No matter what I said tonight, it wouldn’t be enough. “I’m sorry.”
He hated me.
I saw it on his face. He hated me, and I didn’t blame him.
Without a word, he marched to the door, flinging it open and slamming it behind him.
He left me standing in my kitchen, his come leaking down my thighs as the tears streamed over my face.
I listened for the sound of his bike but it never came. I waited, hoping against all hope, that he’d come back and I could find the words. That he’d calm down enough to hear them. But there was nothing. Only the sound of my ragged breaths and shattering heart.
I stood there until I began to shiver, then turned to pick up the tattered remains of my dress. As I took it to the garbage can and tossed it inside, my eyes landed on the stack of unopened mail on the island.
Each piece was addressed to June Johnson.
There’d been a utility bill on top. I kept meaning to opt into paperless billing from the power company but every month, I’d get the bill and smack my palm to my head for forgetting. As I’d gone through the stack, I’d set that bill on top, vowing to do it this time.
The bill was gone.
Emmett had taken it.
Because he’d known I was nothing but a lie.
I swept my bare arm across the counter, the stack of mail flying before the pieces landed on the floor. Then I dropped to my knees, no longer having the strength to stand.
It was over.
I’d lost him.
He was better off without me.
Chapter Eighteen
Emmett
I raised my fist to knock on Dash’s door, but it swung open before I could touch the wooden face.
He waved me inside. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I stepped inside and toed off my boots so they wouldn’t thud on the floor. It was five in the morning, and though Bryce and Dash were awake, the boys were likely in bed.
“Coffee?”
I nodded and followed him to the kitchen, where Bryce was standing against the counter with a steaming mug in her hands.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I loved her for skipping the pleasantries and worrying about me above all else. “Yeah.”
She opened a cupboard and pulled out a mug, filling it from the pot and bringing it over. “Liar.”
I put an arm around her shoulders as she slid one behind my back for a sideways hug.
No, I wasn’t all right.
Dash filled a mug of his own and then the three of us went to the living room.
I was too restless to sit so I walked to the fireplace, taking in the photos on the mantel. They’d changed over the years. The pictures of the boys were continually getting swapped out as they grew. But there were a few constants.
Bryce and Dash at their wedding, smashing cake into each other’s faces. Dash and Nick standing beside two motorcycles, the brothers with their arms around each other’s backs. Another of Draven working at the garage. And an older photo of Chrissy, Dash’s mom, smiling so wide it lit up her face.
She’d been like an aunt to me. There had always been a group of mothers around the clubhouse, organizing family functions. Draven might have been the club’s leader, but Chrissy had been the heart.
She, along with my mom, had done their best to keep Dash, me and the other kids out of trouble. She’d made the best chocolate chip cookies, and she’d been one of Mom’s best friends. Dad had loved her like a sister—as I felt about Bryce—and would have done anything to protect her.
Another parent gone too early, murdered by a rival club.
This had to stop. Christ, I was tired of looking over my shoulder. My family couldn’t take another loss. These women and men deserved to live in peace. To see their children grow.
Nova was a threat to that.
Fuck. I dragged a hand through my hair and turned away from the photos, setting my coffee mug aside to pull my hair out of my face and secure it with a tie from my wrist.
I was a goddamn mess. I’d been up all night, driving home from Missoula and spending every hour since in my office.
Nova might have hacked my laptops in the office, but the important one I kept hidden away. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave a machine that could land me in prison out in the open.
I had two locked safes at home, one obvious in the office. And another that I’d built into the bottom of my pool table. The only way to find it was to shimmy beneath the table and pull back a false panel.
Luckily, she hadn’t stumbled upon it yet. Though I was sure that with enough time, she would have discovered all my secrets. Hell, given a year or two, I would have told her.
How could I have been so fucking gullible? How could I have let this happen? She’d slithered into my life like a viper, and I’d let her sink her poisonous fangs into my flesh.
There was no one to blame for this but me. I was the one who’d brought her into my bed. Into my home. Into my heart.
If something happened, it was on me.
Dash and Bryce didn’t say a word as they sat side by side on the couch. They sipped their coffee and waited for me to pull my shit together.
I walked to a chair and sat on its edge, my coffee forgotten. I didn’t need the caffeine. I’d spent all night digging into Nova, and adrenaline, rage and pain were fueling me at the moment.
“Did Leo talk to you?” I asked.
Dash nodded. “Yesterday.”
“I met a woman.”
“That’s what he said.”
“She fucking played me.” God, I hated to admit this. I hated to even say the words. The shame was nearly as brutal as Nova’s betrayal. “It was casual.”
Leo had probably already explained, but it felt important to say it again. To run it through from the beginning, not just for them but for me. Maybe I’d see where I’d gone wrong.
“We met at The Betsy. Hooked up. Was supposed to be unattached sex but . . .”
“But sometimes it gets more complicated.” Bryce shared a look with Dash.
I dropped my elbows to my knees. My eyes felt like t
hey’d been rubbed with sandpaper. My stomach felt like I’d been kicked with a steel-toed boot. My chest felt ripped to pieces from a gaping gunshot wound. “I fucked up.”
“This isn’t on you.” Dash shook his head. “This is on her.”
Her. “Nova. She told me her name was Nova.”
And damn it, that name fit her. When she’d admitted it was her real name, there had been nothing but honesty in her voice. She was a Nova.
Except she wasn’t. She was the best liar I’d ever met because her name was June Johnson.
Her license plates had been fake. But that utility bill I’d swiped from her counter was as real as they came.
The drive home I’d replayed each moment from her place. I wasn’t sure why I’d fucked her. I wasn’t sure why she’d let me. All I knew was that when I stared at her and there’d been nothing but guilt in her eyes, it had broken me. She’d shredded me to ribbons.
She’d fucking gutted me.
So I’d fucked her too.
“Her real name is June Johnson. She’s a lawyer in Missoula.”
“And you think she is affiliated with the Warriors,” Dash said.
“She tampered with my laptops. Probably copied the hard drives and used my password to get past the encryption.” Maybe she’d done it herself or maybe she’d had help. It didn’t matter.
“Are you sure?” Bryce asked.
“I’m sure.” I nodded. Almost every cell in my body wished that I was wrong, but after all I’d found last night, I was sure. “No one else has been in my house. My security system is tight. As tight as the one here.”
I had video monitors inside and out. The only time they were off was when the system was disarmed. For that, you’d have to know the code.
Nova knew the code.
“You went to Missoula. Did she confess? Tell you anything?” Dash asked.
I shook my head. “No, but she didn’t need to.” There’d been no point in confronting Nova about it because the truth had been written on her beautiful face.
The guilt. The apology. She hadn’t been able to hide it while I’d been inside of her.
I’m sorry.
How many times had she said it last night? I’m sorry.
She was fucking sorry.
“How is she connected to the Warriors?” Dash asked.
