Blaze let me go.
Just.
Like.
That.
Still, the confusion, the brainwashing-like effect I felt had me begging Vaughn for a cabin in the mountains where camera surveillance, and therefore tracing our location, would be impossible. I needed time. I needed space to calm down and put myself back together after the rollercoaster I’d experienced.
But Vaughn said nothing was impossible for these men. That a cabin deep in the Alaskan forest would be more dangerous than an apartment in DC. That if they found us in some remote location, we’d have nowhere to run. We’d be dead.
I trusted his judgment. He was a cop, for Christ’s sake. A remarkable cop with a list of successes longer than a spoiled kid’s Christmas wish-list...
So how is it thathe’sthe one I’m most afraid of? Noretto makes me anxious, but not scared. And Ryder... he makes me feelsafewhile he holds me tucked into his chest.
This is madness.
Letting out one last shaky breath, I inch away from Ryder, my legs untangling from around his hips, hands falling from his broad, muscular shoulders.
He takes my injured hand, scrutinizing the bandage.
“Sorry,” I whisper, removing my hand from his grasp. “I’m not sure what happened there but I’m fine now.”
“Finemy ass,” he mutters. The words are harsh, but his tone is far from it, concern ringing in every syllable. “You’re not fine. It’s okay not to be fine all the time. It’s also okay to admit you’re afraid. What did it? Was it the head? The blood?”
“I’m not afraid, I just... I don’t know. I knew who you all were, but knowing and seeing it—” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “It got a bit overwhelming for a moment.”
He pushes a lock of my hair over one ear, searching my face as if wondering whether I’ll have another meltdown if he lets mego. That neglected string inside me sings under his protective stare and, against my better judgment, I glance at his lips.
Our eyes meet, tension stacking up higher and higher until... it topples over when he takes a step back. Raking a hand through his hair, he fishes his keys out of his pocket.
My throat tightens, the sting of rejection morphing into physical pain. I grind my teeth, pushing that feeling down the only way I know how: by summoning anger.
The acidic feeling fills my veins, growing more potent until it morphs into full-blown rage. At him for acting like he cares then shooting me down, at Hailey for putting stupid ideas inside my head, at myself for these idiotic feelings...
“Come on, let’s get you home.” He reaches out to help me down from the hood.
I swat his hand away, sliding down and landing on my heeled feet. “Why home? We’re going toScarlett.”
“You’re shaken up, Bianca, you—”
“I’mfine,” I emphasize the word the same way he often does as I shove him out of my way.
It’s childish, but that pang of rejection, of not being good enough, fills my mouth with a vile, bitter taste.
I hate it. I hate how vulnerable and raw he makes me so I lash out. Anger doesn’t hurt. Well, not as much as rejection.
“Your mood swings are tiring, Winter,” he says, catching up with me as the security guard lets me inside.
“Remember what you said on our way to Cleveland that first week?” I clip back. “About ignoring each other?” I spin, jabbing my finger into his chest. “Let’s do that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His warm fingers clasp my upper arm when I try moving away.
“It meansstay away from me.” I yank my arm out of his grasp, walking away. My heels click against the marble corridor,beating out a polyrhythm alongside my stuttering heart and the deep breaths that can’t calm my frayed nerves.
Broadway and Koby are back downstairs, both in fresh clothes, their hair damp.
“Feeling better?” Hailey asks cautiously.
