Page 39 of Resist

How have I worked here for two years and never seen either of these men, and yet tonight I saw both—and in the same room?

Lowering myself to the bench in front of the lockers, the emotions get the best of me, and the tears come harder.

I feel like this is all going to topple over. This perfectly constructed house of cards I’ve been shielding from the wind feels like it’s going to be blown over any second by a hurricane of my own making.

It’s Ryker’s fault.

Isn’t he the easiest person to blame? He demanded and I complied, and since meeting with him that night, everything has felt so discombobulated for me.

Before Ryker, I could have handled the senator if he’d been in my pod. I would’ve shrugged off his scrutiny, worried for a few seconds, but still would have known that no one had seen the real me before.

But with both of them together somehow, it’s just too damn close.

My fingers absently play with the string bracelet around my wrist, which matches the one Lucy wears. Suck it up, Vaughn. You don’t get to do this. Being weak is not an option. No matter what it takes, you’ll make this work.

Lucy has no other options.

Suddenly angry at myself for my moment of weakness, I straighten my shoulders and am rising to get cleaned up when the door to the locker room shoves open.

Ryker strides in as if he owns the damn place. The momentary pity I felt for myself turns into anger immediately.

What is it with this man always catching me at my most vulnerable?

“Excuse me?” I say, my hands going up to cover my chest in reflex.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He takes a few steps toward me.

“Get out.”

“Why?” There’s a glint in his eyes. It challenges and dares and holds every part of me captive when all I want to do is tell him to go to hell. When all I want to do is blame him for everything that’s happened tonight.

But it’s not his fault.

It’s not even my sister’s fault, when I used to be able to blame her for this mess I’m in.

“Fine, if you won’t leave, then I will.”

Ryker beats me to the door before I can get there. The lock is flipped, shutting the world beyond out, and within a beat, he has my back up against the wall, his sheer size intimidating me from moving.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Away from you.” I ignore the scent of his cologne. The heat of his body. The gold flecks sparking with anger in the brandy of his eyes.

I try to, anyway.

“Not before you answer me.”

“I don’t have to answer shit.” I sneer, furious at him when I’m not sure why, because it sure as hell isn’t fear that’s coursing through my body with him standing this damn close to me.

“You know what I can’t figure out,” he says as he leans in closer so his breath hits my lips and makes my body want things it can’t have. “Who you are. Are you Vee the madam? Saxony the escort? Or Vaughn the waitress?” His eyes narrow and never leave mine, but they might as well be opening my soul and asking me about my darkest secrets.

I draw in a shaky breath—my own hands are flat against the wall on either side of me. “It doesn’t matter, considering none of the three of them are going to give you the time of day.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting that you are Vee, then.”

Christ. “I didn’t admit to shit.” I grit my teeth and draw in a deep breath that only smells of him to try to calm my temper. “What do you want, Ryker?”

“What if I want a little bit of all three women?” he asks, his words stopping me in my tracks.