“He knows there’s an Argent here,” he said, his voice harsh. “He doesn’t know which of us it is, but he’s here to write an article about it.”
After a first flare of surprise, Matt’s eyes were intent and assessing on Jason. Beside him, Jesse stood absolutely still, his face pale.
“Where is he now?” Matt asked.
“At the motel on Avery,” Jason said. To his horror, his voice broke on the words. That damn motel, where he thought he’d found everything he’d ever wanted. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
He pushed blindly out of the kitchen, into the early morning coolness of the yard. There were still chairs dotted around from the previous night. A reminder of how Riley had looked at him the way no one else had ever done—and it was all a lie.
It was too much for Jason. He shifted and ran.
He ran until he couldn’t run any farther, his trembling legs betraying him and sending him rolling down an incline until he came to a huddled, shivering stop at the bottom of the slope. And even so it hadn’t been far enough or fast enough, because the pain in his heart was still with him, and it was never going to go away.
RILEY
Riley shoved the last of his clothes in his bag. Cursing as the zipper on the bag jammed, he yanked at it. All he succeeded in doing was breaking it.
Fuck it. Grabbing hold of the bag, he picked up his laptop, and slung the lot in the car. He slammed the door and strode over to the motel lobby. And wasn’t that fucking perfect—no one was there. Of course there was no such thing as fucking self-service checkout in a town like this. There was, however, a service bell by the desk. He pressed it, and kept pressing it, until the woman who ran the place rushed in, looking unkempt and extremely grumpy.
“What the hell’s your problem?” she snapped. “It’s seven o’clock on a Sunday morning.”
Well, who the hell made the rule that problems weren’t allowed on a Sunday? But if he got into it with her, it would only delay his leaving, and he wanted to be out of here so badly it was like an itch he couldn’t reach, liable to drive him mad. He bit back his retort, settled his account, and then he was in the car and heading out of that godforsaken town.
He didn’t want to be around anything that reminded him of how it had felt when Jason found out—the expression in those brown eyes that up till then had been so trusting and warm. Nobody had looked at Riley the way Jason had for as long as he could remember, as if he were worth something. And now that was gone. Destroyed. And he’d been the one to do it.
The road blurred in front of him suddenly. He dashed a hand impatiently across his eyes. He’d done what he’d had to do.
As the road shimmered again, fracturing into multiple refracted images, he yanked the car over to the side and stopped. His throat ached, and something in his chest hurt so much he thought he might be having a heart attack. It would serve him right to die here—alone, unloved and unmourned.
When he finally had his breathing under control and was sure there was no cardiac event imminent, he pulled back onto the empty road. He refused to look in his rearview as he concentrated on putting as many miles as possible between himself and Elk Ridge.
* * *
Two hours later, Riley saw a rest stop, and pulled in, desperate for caffeine. He threw cold water over his aching head in the washroom before heading into the diner. Maybe he should eat something, too. That way, he wouldn’t need to stop again for a while.
But when the blonde server came over to where he was staring at the plastic-covered menu and asked if he wanted to order any food, he shook his head.
“Coffee,” he got out, his voice hoarse. Sitting here reminded him of all those times he’d sat in Sam’s diner, studying the menu for something to do while he waited for Jason.
A man at the table next to him was digging into a huge breakfast, but it looked greasy and overcooked, not light and fresh and perfect, the way it would have left Jason’s kitchen. The way Jason made everything he touched perfect. Even Riley, for a time, had been perfect when Jason looked at him. It had been as if his past mistakes and bad decisions didn’t matter—Jason loved him. He hadn’t said it in as many words, buta lover’s moon? What else could he have meant?
When Jason had looked at him like that, like he mattered for just being Riley, not for what he was or what he’d done, it had made him want to be better. To be someone worthy of Jason’s trust. No one hadeverlooked at him like that. Jason had meant every word, every touch.
And Riley had thrown it away. He’d taken everything that Jason was, everything he’d so freely given, and had thrown it away as if it didn’t matter. As ifJasondidn’t matter, when that was the furthest thing possible from the truth.
It hit him then, slamming into his gut, what Jason had said—he believed that Riley had only slept with him to get to the pack.
He hunched in his seat, his stomach twisting as he fought for breath. Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Jason needed to know. What Riley had done hadn’t been much better, but it had never beenthat. Jason needed to understand that Riley had never targeted him. That he’d turned out to be a member of the pack had been nothing more than a fuckingawfulcoincidence.
He pushed to his feet, fumbling for his wallet and throwing down a bill to cover the cost of the coffee he wasn’t going to wait for.
The server’s surprised query followed him as he pushed out the door, but he didn’t hesitate. Not until he’d put the car in drive, andthen he paused, hands tight around the wheel. Was he really going back?
Jason hated him. Riley had done what he’d done, and there was no undoing it. If he went back, all he’d be doing would be spending money he didn’t have on gas. He didn’t want to see the devastation in Jason’s face again.
Riley didn’t have much of a conscience. He couldn’t have and survived some of the things he’d done to try and get ahead. Not that any of them had ever worked, anyway. But this—this felt so wrong. If there was any way he could lessen Jason’s hurt, then he owed it to Jason.
His heart beat fast as he pulled out of the rest stop, not sure he was going to head for Elk Ridge until he made the turn out onto the highway. And if a tiny,abysmallyunrealistic part of him thought that maybe Jason would forgive him and they could pretend it had never happened, well, he only had himself to blame.
