“We almost kissed,” I say, closing my eyes and remembering that moment. “He could have done whatever he wanted to me. I was like clay in his hands.”
“Fuck, that’s hot. And then what?”
“He said he doesn’t want a relationship with me or with anyone, really. Said it would never happen between us. He used the word ‘never.’”
Riley turns to face me, her expression serious. “So, he’s up for sex but not a relationship?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s up for anything with me. And I want more. I want someone who’ll commit to me, and he’s not in that place.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re alie. I’d take whatever Ryder would give me, and hate myself for it later.
I turn my head to Riley, seeing the sympathy in her eyes. The room is charged with unspoken tension, the ghost of what almost happened with Ryder lingering in the air.
“What are you going to do?” Riley asks, her voice soft.
I sigh, the weight of my feelings for Ryder pressing down on my chest. “Keep working with him, I guess. Pretend nothing happened.”
Riley reaches out, squeezing my hand. “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad.”
“Tell me about it,” I groan, covering my face with my free hand. “And the worst part? He’s right downstairs, probably listening to every word we’re saying with his super-bodyguard hearing.”
As if on cue, we hear a crash from downstairs, followed by Ryder’s muffled cursing.
Riley and I look at each other, then burst into laughter. It’s not that funny, but it’s either laugh or cry at this point.
As our giggles subside, I sit up, running a hand through my hair. “Come on, let’s finish making this bed. At least I can have fresh sheets to cry into tonight.”
Riley stands, grabbing the fitted sheet again. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll change his mind. Or maybe Mr. Right is just around the corner, waiting to sweep you off your feet.”
I force a smile. Because right now, I can’t imagine wanting anyone but Ryder. And that’s the biggest problem of all.
Sixteen
RYDER
The phone vibrates against my thigh, its silent alarm slicing through my fitful sleep. My eyes snap open, myhand automatically reaching for the weapon that isn’t there. For a split second, I’m back in the desert, sand in my mouth and the echo of gunfire in my ears. Then reality reasserts itself. I’m in Cora’s guest house, soft sheets a far cry from rough terrain.
I shake off the lingering tendrils of the dream, my heart still pounding an irregular rhythm against my ribs. The sky outside is just beginning to lighten, the world caught in that liminal space between night and day. Perfect timing for a call.
The cool morning air hits my face as I step outside, grounding me in the present.
“What did you find out?” I ask Mercer as soon as the line connects, my voice still rough with sleep.
“I pulled all my strings, but nothing came up,” Mercer’sgruff voice crackles through the speaker. “The phrase the mugger used doesn’t appear in any of the investigation files.”
“Fuck.” I lean against the wall, frustration coursing through me like an electric current. My free hand clenches into a fist, nails biting into my palm. “What about the father? Did you ask him?”
“I talked to him. He didn’t recognize the specific phrase said to her during the mugging, and I studied his reaction carefully. I don’t think he’s lying. But he’s been receiving similar anonymous threats for months now.”
I bite my lip, tasting copper. “So, someone is targeting the family, not just Cora?”
My mind races, piecing together the puzzle. But it’s like trying to complete a jigsaw with half the pieces missing.
“I don’t know, West. They’re filthy rich, and the rich always have enemies. So, anything’s possible. Honestly, I’m surprised they’ve gone without bodyguards until now. No other family member received that phrase, though.”
“So, it’s just her?” I mutter, more to myself than Mercer. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse. The ex-boyfriend theory solidifies in my mind, a convenient target for the anger simmering beneath my skin. Cora told him about the phrase, and he has a grudge. It fits. I hope I scared him enough to stay away.
“I don’t know, but be careful,” Mercer warns, his tone shifting. “With her, too.”
A chill runs down my spine, one that has nothing to do with the morning air. “What are you implying?”
