“You’reAshley?” I blurt.
“I see my reputation proceeds me,” she purrs.
“Yeah, I’ll bet your mom’s proud.” I narrow my eyes at her, trying to ignore the fact Ryder is now running his hands up and down her arms.
“Jealousy is very unbecoming, and so common,” she says, leaning back against Ryder’s chest. She twists her arm around, running her fingers through his hair, and I want to gouge out her eyeballs with my nails and pull every strand of silky hair from her head.
When she starts peppering little kisses along his jawline, and he doesn’t stop her, something dies inside me. A sharp pain spears me in the heart, and I feel it rupturing, splitting apart, still too fragile from the last time Ryder annihilated it.
I can’t bear witness to this. I can’t sit here and watch him ruin everything we’ve ever shared. I climb out of Gar’s lap, grabbing onto Mike’s arm to steady myself as I scramble out of the booth. “This was a mistake,” I tell him, fighting tears. “I can’t do this. I’m done.”
I don’t look back as I walk away, smothering tears the entire time. A lump the size of a baseball is jammed in my throat, corking my sobs, but I know it’s only temporary. The pain pressing down on my chest is excruciating, and I just want to get home and forget I ever laid eyes on Ryder Stone.
A familiar face steps into my path, his brow furrowing as he notices my distress. “What’s wrong?” Brody asks, closely examining my face. I haven’t seen him in forever as I haven’t stepped foot insideRockOut’s offices since the day Ryder announced he’d bought it.
“I’m an idiot. That’s what’s wrong,” I fume, so furious with myself for falling back into Ryder’s arms so easily.
“Hey, don’t cry.” Brody slides his arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him for strength.
“I’m not crying over that jerk,” I say, more for my benefit. “I’ve done enough of that in the past and he’s not worth another single tear.” I push forward, and Brody keeps pace with me, still holding onto me.
“Zeta, wait.” Mike comes up alongside me, casting a wary glance in Brody’s direction. I don’t bother introducing him to my colleague. “Let me drive you back to the penthouse.”
Yeah, as if I’m ever stepping foot in that place again. I open my mouth to protest but think better of it. There’s no way Mike’s going to drive me back to my place or let me leave here alone or with Brody. Whatever instructions Ryder’s given him before tonight clearly prevent him from abandoning me. I quickly concoct a plan of escape. “Okay, thank you.”
“Zeta, I—”
I despise the look of pity on his face, so I cut him off. “Please don’t say it. I just don’t want to hear it.”
He nods, his features sad as he walks me outside the room. I say goodbye to Brody in the hallway, assuring him I’m fine with Mike. He kisses me on the cheek, eyeing Mike suspiciously before reluctantly walking away. Mike says nothing as we enter the elevator and descend to the ground level.
I’ve been in this hotel one other time for a press conference, and I remember the downstairs bathroom backs onto the parking garage, so when I tell him I need to use the restroom before we leave, I’ve already made up my mind what I’m going to do.
I wait in the bathroom until everyone’s gone, and then I lock the door, running to the window and sliding it open. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze, but I manage to wriggle my way through. Out in the parking garage, I walk with purpose, as fast as I can in my high-heeled boots, wanting to put as much distance between me and the carnage back there.
I can’t believe I was so naïve.
So foolish.
I knew once we withdrew from our little Hamptons bubble that things would be challenging, but I had no idea how fast things would turn to shit or how quickly Ryder would revert to form.
I was stupid to have trusted him so blindly. To have given in so easily.
He’s not the same boy I remember because that boy would never have taken a machete to my heart the way that man just did.
I don’t belong in this world, and I guess it’s better I found out now before I invested even more of my time and my future. It’s such a mess, and I’m going to be a laughingstock once the media discovers Ryder’s already dumped me for the girl who betrayed him. I’ll have to quit the magazine and find a new job. Probably find a rock somewhere to hide under until all the media furor has died down. Maybe I’ll go stay with Jill and Liam for a while. I haven’t seen them in ages, and a visit is long overdue. And, if anyone understands how easily I shatter when let down by that man, it’s my aunt.
I’m distracted, running through options in my head, so I’m not paying attention to my surroundings.
I’m nearing the front of the parking garage when a man in a tailored black suit steps out of the shadows directly in front of me. His face is completely covered with one of those creepy white masks, and it scares the fuck out of me. Startled, I scream on instinct, and he covers my mouth, grabbing me in a chokehold and dragging me over to the wall.
Blood thrums in my ears, and adrenaline courses through my veins as my heart starts pounding wildly in my chest. Although I’m terrified, I raise my leg and stretch my hand back, ready to implement years of self-defense lessons when something cold and sharp presses against my throat.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His voice is gruff and deep, his breath foul smelling as he presses his mouth to my ear. “I’d hate for Ryder to find you with that pretty neck slashed wide open and bleeding out all over the ground.”
A sting pricks my neck as he presses the knife farther into my flesh. A chill tiptoes up my spine, and raw fear takes hold of me. “What do you want?” I ask, hating how my voice trembles and my knees almost go out from under me, but I’m unable to stop my body’s natural reaction to the situation.
“What do I want?” Keeping the knife pressed against my throat, he moves his other hand up along the curve of my hip and higher. “That’s an interesting question.” His hand continues to wander upward until he cups my right breast. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that Mike has figured out I’ve run and that he finds me before it’s too late. “Ryder sure has good taste in women,” he rasps, sliding the knife lower, making a clean cut straight through the front of my top. Strips of material float to the ground, leaving me standing in my leather jacket and strapless bra. He moves the knife back up to my throat as his other hand slips into my bra and over my bare skin. Tears sneak out of my eyes as I think about how I avoided this for years growing up, despite daily threats of sexual assault, and it was all for nothing, because this guy is going to either rape me or kill me or maybe do both. His fingers tweak my nipple, and a sob rips from my mouth.
