“I’m going to pay our lawyer friend, Kenneth Murphy, a little visit,” he said.
Triana started to follow him but then forced her feet to stop. “Remy.”
He hesitated at the door for a moment before turning to look at her. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see in his face. Maybe she was hoping there’d be some sign that what had transpired at dinner had all been some big misunderstanding.
There was no such sign, merely a closed-off expression convincing her she’d been right. What had started out so hot and fiery between them had already burned out.
“Be careful,” she finally said, hoping he wouldn’t do anything to the lawyer that would get him into trouble.
Remy gazed at her for a long moment, then nodded before turning away and walking out. With his departure, Triana felt another thread connecting them snap. The pain that caused hurt more than she could have ever imagined.
Turning, Triana walked past the counter and up the steps to her room, ignoring the look of confusion on her mother’s face. She wasn’t in the mood to talk at the moment.
Tears pooled in her eyes, running down her face as she sat down on the bed. She was never going to see Remy again and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over him.
* * *
The windshield wipers on Remy’s Mustang were fighting a losing battle trying to keep up with all the rain pounding the glass as he and Max drove into the SWAT facility. Ophelia had strengthened into a Category 1 hurricane during the night, and weather experts were now predicting landfall would be around Lafayette, Louisiana, a hundred miles west of New Orleans. But the storm outside was nothing compared to the one raging inside his head. That particular tempest was definitely a Category 5 catastrophe.
He hadn’t slept at all last night. Instead, he’d lain in bed staring at the ceiling with eyes that let him see every tiny detail in the darkness, wondering how things had gotten this messed up. He’d started spending time with Triana because she was a friend, she was beautiful, and he’d been attracted to her more than he’d ever been attracted to anyone in his life—even Jess. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a week filled with fun.
But somewhere along the way, he’d been dumb enough to let things go too far, and now everything was screwed up because he’d done the one thing he never intended to do—fallen in love with her.
Last night had been an absolute train wreck. He couldn’t believe some of the shit he’d said to Triana. He’d wanted to make her realize there wasn’t going to be a future between them, but he’d never meant to hurt her. That was sure as hell what he’d done though.
It had been bad enough during dinner when he’d as much as come right out and said he’d been in love once and never wanted to be again. He’d seen how much that had hurt her. Hell, he’d felt the pain in his own heart just like he had felt the twinge in his finger when she’d cut hers. But then later, after the break-in at her mother’s shop, he’d walked away from her even though he’d known how freaked out and scared she was. What the hell was wrong with him? Who walked away from the woman they cared about and left her to deal with all that fear and confusion completely on her own? That wasn’t who he was, dammit. At least not the kind of person he wanted to be. He’d told her he had to leave so he could go after Murphy, but that was bullshit. He’d left because it had been too hard to look at her anymore.
Besides, chasing the lawyer had been a bust. The man wasn’t at the office listed on his website, and when he’d gone to the man’s home address—which he’d found after snooping around the office for a while—it was to find signs of a hasty departure.
Remy shook his head, trying to clear it, which was difficult to do with the way it was spinning.
It had never been like this before. He’d walked away from plenty of women in the past, and it had never been a big deal. With Triana, it was definitely a big deal. He’d never felt this shitty in all his life.
This morning had been even worse than last night. He didn’t just feel shitty; he actually felt sick. Like he was going to throw up, which he hadn’t done since he was a teenager. Werewolves didn’t get sick. He’d told himself yesterday it had been the burgers, then the seafood, but if that was the case, why was he feeling so crappy now? He hadn’t eaten anything this morning.
“Remy!”
Max’s voice jolted him out of his reveries and he looked over to see his pack mate regarding him in concern. That’s when Remy realized they were almost at the SWAT facility. Crap, he didn’t even remember the drive.
“Dude,” Max said. “I called your name three times. You were frigging muttering to yourself like a psycho.”
Remy opened his mouth to crack a joke about talking to himself being more entertaining than talking to Max when his friend leaned over to sniff him. A moment later, he sat back, making a face.
“Are you okay? You’re putting off a strange scent I’ve never smelled before.”
Remy scowled. “Is that your polite way of saying I didn’t shower enough this morning?”
Max shook his head. “I’m being serious. You smell…I don’t know…kind of sick or something. To tell the truth, you don’t look so hot either. You’re sweating and your face is pale. Do you feel okay?”
Remy was about to blow it off, because…well…he was a guy, and that’s what guys did. But he knew it would be useless because Max was a guy too. His friend would keep poking him until Remy told him what the problem was.
“Not really,” he admitted. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Because you were with Triana fixing things, right?” Max asked hopefully.
Remy ran a hand through his hair, then quickly gripped the wheel tighter when the front tires of the car hydroplaned a little as he drove through a big patch of standing water. This wasn’t supposed to be a bad storm, but there were areas of this city that tended to flood any time there was more than a light shower. With this much rain, it was going to be ugly.
“I wish that was the reason,” he said after a moment. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t anything that enjoyable.”
