Page 43 of Reveal

“Carter paid me a visit after I left your place.” Her voice is soft, but her defiance is mounting.

That’s definitely not what I expected to come out of her mouth.

“What do you mean, Carter paid you a visit?”

“Just what I said.”

“Why? For what? That fucking asshole better not have touched you.”

“Does it matter if he did?” Her voice rises. “You invited him into my personal life. You gave him everything he needs to destroy me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” My confusion is turning into anger, and it’s not her fault, but fuck if I can keep it at bay.

“He threatened my adoption of Lucy. With outing me. You name it.”

I stare at her, blinking as her words hit me straight in the solar plexus. “He what?”

“He threatened me. Told me I have to give him what I have on him. My last defense to protect myself . . . and if I don’t, he’ll ruin me.”

“I don’t unders—”

“How can you understand? How can you stand there and know what it feels like to be told that it doesn’t matter if you do or don’t do what he says because you owe your body to him in an apology?” I swear to God, when her voice wavers, I fucking hate myself. “And that’s why your apologies mean shit, Ryker. The damage was already done the minute I left the pool house.”

“He actually said he was going to cost you the adoption?” I’m trying to wrap my head around this, around the balls that fucker has. I have to focus on one thing at a time, or else the rage over it all will cloud more than my judgment. It will cloud my rationality to the point that my ass will end up in jail.

And that’s not the half of what I deserve.

Her eyes well, and she just shakes her head in response.

“Please. Just go step by step through everything.”

“He said it would be a shame if Lucy’s social worker found out about Wicked Ways. How am I supposed to take it if that’s not a threat?”

I try to justify my way out of this. I try to tell myself he could have threatened her even without our meeting because he already wanted her desperately.

But you hung her out there like a carrot for him to chase after.

“Vaughn.” Her name is a sigh. An apology. An I can fix this when I don’t even know where to start. I reach out to hold her hand, and she yanks it back as if my touch will break her.

“Don’t.”

“This wasn’t—I didn’t mean—Fuck.” I pull on the back of my neck. I scramble for explanations—for anything—because what the fuck was he thinking.

“Like I said,” she murmurs, “this—we—can’t be. It’s bad all around.”

She starts to walk away again, and this time I do grab her arm to prevent her from walking out. “We’ll fix this. I’ll fix this.”

“It can’t be fixed!” she screams as her body shakes with anger.

“It’s a harmless threat. He wouldn’t dare follow through with it.” I’m looking at her but thinking about murdering him. “Men like him get off on their power. On making women fear them. It’s like a goddamn drug to him, so he showed up to your house to lay the groundwork. To make you scared. To make you feel like you have to turn over whatever you have on him so he doesn’t have to worry about it coming to light.”

“You don’t understand, Ryker. He came to my house. My house! Him and his security detail and—”

“It’s part of his plan. He told me himself that night. Use sex and fear to gain power. Use the power to get what he wants—”

“And yet you still used me when you knew that? When he told you this?” She shakes her head, her mouth lax, her eyes blinking away the tears that I’m now afraid have morphed from tears of hurt to anger.

I want to go to her, pull her against me, use the heat of her skin to reassure myself that I can get us back . . . but for the first time, I’m not so fucking sure, because she’s right. He told me that shit, and I still did what I did. I still used the woman I love, even if it was in good faith . . . I still did this to her.