“I think you’ll find I can, and I will.” He shoots me a tight smile.
“You’re being an ass again.”
“It’s his middle name, he can’t help it,” Garrett pipes up.
“I’m beginning to think you’re right,” I say, even though I hate agreeing with anything that jackass has to say.
“For fuck’s sake, Zeta. It’s just money.”
“And now you’re proving my earlier point. The boy I knew respected the value of money.”
Steam practically billows out of his ears. “Offering to cover the costs of a caregiver for an elderly, ill woman is a worthy use of my money. And I don’t disrespect money. Not at all. I’ve worked hard for my success, but the truth is, I’ve got far more money than I know what to do with, and you’re the one making a big deal out ofnothing.” He roars the last word at me, removing a silver flask from inside his jacket pocket and pouring the contents straight down his throat.
“Yeah, just pour some more booze down your throat. That’ll fix everything,” I snap.
“You’re driving me to it,” he yells. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”
“Well, you’re the one who wanted me here. You can always change your mind and hire someone else.”
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” he grits out, burying his head in his hands. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult? I told you I’m fucking sorry. What more do you want me to do?”
“I think you should just fuck each other’s brains out and be done with it,” Garrett unhelpfully supplies.
“Don’t fucking start, Gar. I’m not in the mood for your shit.”
No one speaks after that, and I feel awful. I don’t know why I’m being so antagonistic. Or, well, I do, I suppose.
It’s all my hurt rising to the surface.
Since Ryder reappeared in my world, he’s upset the carefully controlled nature of my life, and I’m floundering. I’m feeling so many things I thought I’d buried, and I’m angry with him for that. I’m also terrified of what these next few months will bring and scared I won’t be able to resist him and that I’ll get my heart hurt again. All of this is driving my behavior, but it’s not how I want to act, either around Ryder or the other members of Torment.
I’m a professional music journalist, yet I’m acting like a whiny teenager, and it’s clear I’m driving Ryder to drink, which is not something I want to encourage. I make a mental note to ask Rod on the QT about Ryder’s stint in rehab and whether he’s supposed to be drinking this much.
When we pull up in front of imposing wooden gates an hour later, I smell the fresh, clean air and the salty scent of the sea through the open sunroof, and it brings a smile to my face. I lower the window as the limo glides up the impressively long driveway toward Ryder’s house; although calling it a house is a bit of an understatement.
My eyes pop wide as I take in the impressive two-story modern build. It’s constructed mainly of wood and glass and it fronts a large, manicured lawn. A humongous garage rests off to one side, and another smaller property resides on the right.
Mike opens the door, offering me his hand and helping me outside. “Thank you.” I pull my shades out of my bag and put them on, shielding my eyes from the glare of the midday sun. The rolling sound of the ocean greets my ears, and a gentle breeze blows strands of hair around my face. Closing my eyes, I inhale the peace and quiet and the familiar smells and sounds, instantly feeling more relaxed.
“What do you think?” Ryder quietly asks, speaking to me for the first time since our little blow up in the car.
I open my eyes and turn my face up to the sun, relishing the warmth on my skin. “I think I’m going to love it here,” I truthfully admit, noticing how his whole face lights up at my words. “But we need to talk, and I think we should do it sooner rather than later.”
24
Ryder
The guys head to their bedrooms to unpack while I lead Zeta through the living area and out onto the upper deck. The architect designed this house with all the living spaces on the second level and the bedrooms, gym, and movie theater on the lower level.
“Wow, this place is magnificent.” Zeta leans over the railing taking in the vast infinity pool, surrounding patio, gardens, and basketball and tennis courts. A wooden bridge leads off the far side of the garden, down to a set of narrow steps and directly onto the private sandy beach. “And the views are spectacular. Now, I see why you used so much glass in the design of the house.”
“That was the architect’s idea,” I explain, leaning against the railing alongside her. “I told him I wanted something modern but homey and practical, and then I gave him free rein.”
“Well, he did a great job.” She points her finger at the wooden structure off to the side of the tennis courts. “What’s that building?”
“That’s the recording studio.”
She turns to face me, and the sun casts her in glorious technicolor highlighting the smattering of freckles across her nose and the subtle reddish undertones in her hair. She’s not wearing much makeup and her black knee-length sundress is understated, but she’s so gorgeous she almost brings me to my knees. As so often happens in her company, I spew out my thoughts without stopping to apply a filter. “I’ve imagined you here so many times, Zeta. I’m really glad you’re here now.”
