"Cleo, I would happily peel that dress off you with my teeth."
Her eyes fly wide and she takes a step away from me, cheeks coloring even further.
"Ryker that's...you can't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because Eden won't be happy to hear it. I'm not some sort of homewrecker, Ryker. I won't come between you and whoever you're seeing."
I just stare down at her, stunned into silence. That's what this has been about? She thinks I've been visiting Rapture so often to see Eden? She's beautiful, no doubt about it. With a fall of auburn hair and jewel-toned eyes. It's not a mystery why she's a crowd favorite. But I haven't fucked her. I don't chase after Cruz's sloppy seconds and I've only had eyes for Cleo for years now. Is this what's been standing between me and the only person I've wanted for so long? A simple misunderstanding? It's so unfair that I can't form words.
"You really think I'm with Eden?" I finally force out.
Her chin jerks up. "Well, aren't you?"
"No. It's fucking obvious to anyone with eyes that I love someone else."
Her face falls and the expression there is heartbreaking. She still doesn't get it. How is it possible for one person to be so blind to their own self-worth?
"Well I hope you're happy with her," she grinds out from between her teeth. She jerks her hand out of mine. "I'm sure you and she will get a real laugh out of this, huh? Take poor Cleo out on a pity date. Well I don't need your damn charity, Ryker."
Anger bubbles up inside me. The mere fact she thinks I could do such a thing after all she's been through just pisses me off. It's clear she doesn't know me at all, if she thinks I'm capable of being cruel to her. The words escape me, lashing out at her with all the frustration that's been mounting for weeks.
"And what about you and Cruz, huh? It's pretty clear you're still in love with him."
She jerks back as if she's been slapped, and her dark eyes fill with tears. My heart squeezes in my chest.Great. Just fucking brilliant. Now you've hurt her.
She takes several steps back from me, turning her head so I can't see the tears that stream down her face. With a distinct sniff she turns on her heel and stalks off the dance floor.
"Where are you going?" I call after her. I should drag her back and apologize for being an ass. The jealousy is misplaced and I took it out on the wrong target.
"To the bathroom," she snaps. "I need some freaking air."
I watch her go with a mixture of sorrow and frustration, wondering just how badly I've fucked things up this time.
9
Cleo
The sob doesn't escape me until I've reached the bathroom. I want to blame it on the hormones still rioting through my body, but I know better. I'm heartbroken. I knew I would be, in time. But I didn't expect it to be so soon. After my fruitless confession on the bike, I held out just a sliver of hope that maybe he might be able to love me back. I lean my face against the
His words echo in my ears, a taunt.
"It's fucking obvious to anyone with eyes that I love someone else."
In love with someone else. So maybe it's not Cherry or Eden, but it is someone. Some nameless, faceless woman has caught his attention. The desire to pull her hair out by the roots seizes me and shocks me into stillness. I'm not a violent person. The feeling doesn't fade, though. The God's honest truth is that I want to keep him with me. Ryker has been a steadfast rock for me in these trying times. The thought of some hussy stealing that support right out from under me is terrifying. The image planted in my head fades away and is replaced by another. Some new woman in his home, sharing his bed. That tender look of concern turning to someone else.
I bang a hand onto the sink, succeeding in only sending pain streaking through my knuckles and up into my wrist. Hot tears streak down my face and land in the basin. Stupid. I'm so stupid.
And I'm still furious. How dare he throw Cruz back in my face, as if the situations are exactly the same? I'm not delusional. I've known for a while that Cruz isn't interested in me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remove myself from the platonic role he set for me. Holly had been the final nail in the coffin. The moment he set eyes on her, I knew. Something crackled between them, something I'll never be able to replicate. I've made my peace with that.
I'm afraid I've pissed Ryker off. Would he leave me here? Ride back to his place to cool off and let me find my own ride home? No. No matter how much of an ass he's being, there's no way he'd do that to me, right?
I splash my cheeks, wiping away the blotchy evidence of my tears, also slopping some onto my eyes. The mascara runs. Yes, just perfect. I've made myself look like a racoon, on top of everything else.
The lights above me flicker and then dip, sending the room into shadow. I jump when a toilet flushes. I hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the room with me. I must sound like a nutcase. I swivel around as the lights come up, ready to apologize to the unknown woman for my rudeness. The door swings inward and I pause, fear sliding like a block of ice into my stomach.
The woman is familiar. I've seen her at club meetings, on the back of a bike, and at Damian's home many times. She's average height, thin in that heroin-chic style so in vogue in the nineties. Her legs are clad in leather that shows them to their best advantage. Her hair has been bleached so often it's nearly white. She's pulled it back into a no-nonsense tail at the base of her neck. Her skin is almost leathery after years of tanning. A Spade is inked onto her right hand, outlined in red, just the same as Trent's. Talk about a permanent way to show solidarity with your boyfriend. I never inked my hand with the Spade, even when I was with Damian.
