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Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty

The Bleeding Hearts Duet A. Zavarelli

© 2017 A. Zavarelli Cover Design by Coverluv Cover Photograph © Depositphotos All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty

Echo

His heart is the rhythm. Mine is the echo.

Prologue

I stared at my face in the mirror, steeling myself with another deep breath.

The glass was cracked down the middle, a direct reflection of how my heart felt at that moment. The girl staring back at me was fractured, and would probably never be whole again.

I swiped some more powder over my blotchy skin to hide the fact that I’d been crying. My pale skin always betrayed me, and beneath the crappy orange glow of the lights in our trailer, it looked even worse.

My brother would be pissed if he knew if I was in here mourning him already. There would be plenty of time for that later.

My eyes were bloodshot, and there wasn’t much else I could do about that.

So I swiped on some strawberry lip gloss and practiced my fake smile. My lips hurt already.

I smoothed out the wrinkles in my ivory lace dress and frowned. I’d made it myself, and it was one of my favorite pieces. After tonight, I doubted I’d ever want to wear it again. Just like everything else, it would be tainted by this memory.

My mom told me I should wear something nice tonight, for Brayden’s last hurrah. This was the only nice thing I owned, and she insisted the white looked good with my red hair. While I would never turn to Norma for fashion advice, she was right.

White was the color of light and goodness. And I needed as much of those things as I could get in my life right now.

Someone banged on the door, and I cringed when I heard Brayden’s voice.

“I know you’re in there, Brighton. Come out please.”

He’d caught me hiding, and I immediately felt guilty for it.

I’d have tomorrow and every day for the foreseeable future to wallow in my despair. But tonight I needed to entertain my brother’s friends and pretend that everything was okay. That he wasn’t going back to court tomorrow and most likely not coming back.

I opened the door and gave him a nervous smile. He was my twin brother, but the differences between us were night and day. He got all of my father’s Italian features, whereas I was a reflection of Norma’s Irish ones.

He shook his head and gave me that disappointed look. The one I hated. I could handle that look from anyone else, but not Brayden. He was my rock.

The only solid thing in a world that felt like quicksand. But I was losing him too.

My smile widened, and it hurt my face. Inside I was crumbling, but I couldn’t show him that.

He gripped me by the arms and held me steady as he spoke, his strength as unwavering as it always had been. “It’s going to be okay.”

My lip wobbled, and I tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let me.

“You’re tougher than you think, Brighton,” he said. “In a couple of years, you’ll be able to get out of here. Go anywhere you want.”

“No, I can’t,” I argued. “I don’t want to leave you… I don’t want…”

“You have to, goddammit.”

I flinched away, shocked by the ire in his voice. His eyes filled with regret a moment later, and I thought I saw a flash of the warmth that used to lie in their brown depths. So much of that warmth had disappeared over the past year.

“Listen.” He blew out a breath. “You can’t stay here, Brighton. This place… its poison. And you’re too good for that. So you have to promise me… promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity you get to leave.”

It wasn’t a fair fight. Brayden knew I was in no position to deny him such a request. For him, all of the opportunities were over. He was a sixteen-yearold boy being charged with the crimes of an adult. Something I still couldn’t wrap my head around. There were too many charges to count. Too many atrocious things that I knew he wasn’t capable of.

“It was just an accident,” I whispered. “They can’t take you away from me, Brayden. They can’t. They’ll see. The lawyers will show them you didn’t mean to do it.”

Brayden sighed in frustration. We’d been over this a thousand times, but I didn’t care. I needed to believe this wasn’t happening.

“Everything they say is true, Brighton. I know you don’t want to believe it, but you have to. I killed that family. I ran them off the road, and then I left them there to die. And now I’m going away because that’s what I deserve.”

My chest constricted, and I fought for air as I forced my gaze to the ground.

It wasn’t true. I hated him for saying these things. I knew it couldn’t be true.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away and take him with me. Away from

the horrible media and all of the darkness that surrounded us. But I couldn’t.

“You need to let go of whatever hope you’re holding onto,” he said softly.

“I need you to promise me that you’ll be strong, and you will do what I asked.”

I couldn’t be strong. But I didn’t need him worrying about me anymore.

Brayden would need to worry about himself where he was going.

“If that’s what you think is best,” I said. “I’ll leave as soon as I can. I promise.”

He nodded and glanced around the room, no doubt looking for our absent mother. “And one more thing,” he said quietly. “I’m not asking you to take care of Norma-Jean, but will you just… try to look out for each other?”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and nodded. Norma-Jean was all I had left now. Talk about depressing. “You know I will.”

He released me with a sigh and gestured to the back porch. “Why don’t you go do your thing, get some fresh air for a bit. These guys won’t be here too much longer.”

I gave him a watery smile and retreated on wobbly legs to the door.

Escaping the acrid stench of cigarette smoke and sympathetic glances would do me some good.

As I stole onto the deck, the summer air clung to my skin, pungent with the aroma of Lilacs in full bloom. Two rickety lawn chairs and a small table were all that adorned this space. But if I had a favorite place in the whole world, this would be it.

This was my thinking spot. Where I’d spent countless hours questioning and evaluating my life and all the people in it. It was my safe haven, my sanctuary. I didn’t have anything else like it, and I was fiercely protective of it.

So when I caught someone else sitting in my chair, playing with my Rubik’s cube, I came to a dead halt. I didn’t recognize him, but I assumed he was one of Brayden’s friends. He had to be if he was here tonight.

Why he was touching my cube or sitting in my chair, I didn’t know. But it irritated me. Didn’t he realize this was the only good thing I had in my life?

His masculine fingers moved the pieces of the cube around with a precision and grace that disarmed me. After having that cube for six years, I’d still never figured it out. I lingered awkwardly in place, one foot still paused mid-stride as I debated my next move. His concentration was so focused on

the game, I doubted he knew I existed at all. I was half-tempted to tell him to go inside, but that would be rude. And I was never rude.

I was the good girl. The glue that held the family together. The peacemaker.

The one who kept her thoughts to herself and never stepped out of line.

That was my role, and I’d accepted it long ago. But for just one night, I wished I could be someone else. Someone who spoke her mind and didn’t care if she hurt someone’s feelings.

Could I do that to a complete stranger?

I stole a glance at the man’s profile, trying to make out his features in the shadows. He wore nice clothing. The kind of blue jeans and soft grey tee shirt that were artfully faded to look casual. They weren’t fooling me, though. I may have lived in a trailer park, but even I knew what those clothes really smelled like. Money.

None of Brayden’s friends had money. But this guy did. It was clear he didn’t belong in a Podunk township south of Chicago. And yet he was perfectly at ease, touching my things and taking no notice of me as I lingered just a few feet away. He adjusted the last remaining pieces of the game and set it on the table. But before he pulled away, he performed an odd ritual of aligning it to the blunt edges.

And then his eyes shot up to mine.

I drew in a sharp breath. Because now that I could see them, they were seriously blue and seriously intense. And he was looking at me like I was a shiny new toy.

Nobody had ever looked at me that way. I swallowed the gallon of sand lodged in my throat as I gestured to the cube.

“How did you do that?”

A slow smile crept across his face as he rose up to his full height, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s Brighton, right?”

“Um, yeah.” I gave an awkward shrug.

“I know your brother,” he said. “And it’s all just a matter of knowing how to play the game, Brighton.”

His eyes raked over me, and nerves I never knew existed flared to life. I had to tell myself to remember to breathe when he took a step closer. Something predatory lingered in that gaze. Something that told me I should leave, right now.

“Do you know how?” he asked.

“I don’t…” I stuttered over the words, trying to find something intelligible to say. My default setting was awkward and shy, and my experience with men was limited. But the way this one looked at me made me feel like a woman. Like a woman whose world he wanted to set on fire.

“I could teach you,” he offered. “In fact, I think it would be quite entertaining.”

The ominous undertones in those words made me shiver, but I didn’t retreat. I couldn’t explain it. I’d never done anything dangerous in my life.

This man screamed danger, and yet he had some kind of gravitational pull that drew me closer. I’d never felt anything like it before.

It was electric.

And it was also wrong on so many levels. I was sixteen, and he was clearly… not. This was a man. A man with a jaw that hadn’t seen a razor in at least a few days. Real stubble adorned those hard lines, not the peach fuzz I was used to seeing. And yet he didn’t seem to factor that in as he took another step closer.

His mouth was inches from mine now, his breath so close it skated across my skin. I got this crazy notion he was going to kiss me. My stomach dipped, and disappointment washed over me when he reached past me instead.

He plucked one of the lilac blooms that had grown over the porch railing, cradling it in his palm. Petals fell from the bloom and drifted to the ground, only to be carried away a moment later by the breeze. An odd coldness came over his features as he crushed the bloom in his hand and discarded it over the railing.

He dragged his eyes back to me. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“How you and I can almost relate at this moment. I didn’t expect that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

His fingers came up to linger near my face, but he stopped himself before he could touch me.

“Brayden,” he said. “You can feel him slipping away.”

My knees buckled as the floodgates of pain and guilt opened up inside of my chest. I tried to grab onto the railing, but the stranger wouldn’t let me.

He pulled me into his arms, stroking my hair as he pressed my face against his chest.

It was an intimate act, and I didn’t know him, but at the moment it felt right.

It felt like exactly what I needed. I shuddered and squeezed my burning eyes shut, trying to stay strong. I promised Brayden I wouldn’t cry today, and I’d broken that promise several times already.

The stranger tipped my chin in his hand, forcing my gaze to his. And when those gunmetal blue eyes connected to mine, my resolve washed away.

Tears flooded my cheeks as pain threatened to swallow me whole.

His hand found my back. An instinctive gesture of comfort that caused him to second guess himself. He hesitated, but because I was sad and feeling reckless, I leaned a little closer.

His grip tightened when I paused to inhale the scent of his cologne. Notes of amber and cinnamon floated up from his skin, calming me in an unexpected way. It reminded me of what I always thought a Christmas morning should smell like. With a normal family gathered around the fireplace singing carols together as they drank their eggnog. I bet this man had some of those Christmases. He looked like he might have.

“How do you know Brayden?” I asked.

He frowned but didn’t answer. Then he grasped my face in his hands, surprising me when he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. It was unapologetic, and not even a little bit hesitant. I whimpered, and he groaned.

A thousand volts of electricity shot through me as his hands jerked my body closer. The ferocity of his kiss choked the breath from me and left me wondering what it would be like when he got his hands on the rest of my body.

My lips parted as I gasped for air, and he took it as an invitation. His tongue delved into my mouth, tasting me completely. I only managed to remain upright by clinging to his shirt. His skin burned beneath the thin material, and mine felt like it was on fire. My head spun, and I seemed to have lost all control of my body. His touch was the only thing I could feel. The only thing I wanted to feel.

What was happening? I was a lust-struck girl who was using her grief as an excuse to be reckless. What was his excuse? I didn’t care. I wanted him to kiss me. And when I felt the hardness of his arousal against my stomach, I wanted him to do a whole lot more too.

But in typical Brayden fashion, he picked that moment to come ambling out the side door. Embarrassment flooded over me, and I tried to break away

from the mysterious stranger, but he held me tight in his grasp. Brayden paused mid-stride, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the sight before him.

Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, I shot the man a pleading glance to let me go. His fingers fell away from my face with an obvious satisfaction as he swung his gaze to my brother.

Tension thickened the air as Brayden crossed his arms over his broad chest, his eyes flicking between me and the stranger. He played the role of an over-protective brother often, but this… this was something else.

Hatred flared in his eyes, and a smug grin appeared on the stranger’s face in response. I looked between the two men, trying to understand what wasn’t being said. The breeze kicked up, and the windows on the trailer rattled beneath the weight of it.

“Brighton, go back inside the house,” Brayden ordered.

I glared at him and crossed my arms in stubborn refusal. “What’s going on?

He said he was your friend.”

Brayden looked at the man again and scrubbed a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “He is.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “But you don’t need to be hanging around with him like this.”

This was Brayden’s generic excuse whenever it came to a guy I liked, but this time there was something more to it than that. Before I could ask, the man beside me straightened. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to my ear, unable to hide the smile in his voice when he spoke.

“Don’t worry, Brighton. We’ll meet again soon. Perhaps I could teach you how to play the game?”

I didn’t even have time to respond before he spun on his heel, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes as he walked away. My hands ached as I watched him go, and even the weight of Brayden’s disapproving gaze couldn’t alter that.

The saddest part was he never even told me his name.

Chapter One

-Five Years Later“God, this cannot seriously be happening.”

I stared at the letter through bleary eyes. This was it. The PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE . I wouldn’t be able to recover from this.

“Hey, Brighton!” Nicole called out as her fancy pink sneakers came into view.

I swiped at the tears trailing down my cheeks and shoved the letter into my bag. Looking up at her with what I hoped was a smile, I saw her frown.

“What’s wrong?” she cocked her head to the side and scrutinized me with her bright green eyes.

I waved it off and leaned against the tree, plucking a piece of grass to twirl between my fingers. “It’s nothing.”

I didn’t know Nicole well enough to be spilling this kind of drama. Not yet anyway.

She was the first person I met in San Francisco when I moved here, and oddly enough it was in this very spot. We both walked the same path in Golden Gate Park every morning, and after bumping into her every day for a couple of weeks, she decided to say hello. We bonded over our mutual Midwestern accents right away, and after that, we started walking together.

“Why don’t we skip the walk this time.” She sat down beside me in the grass. “I bought us some breakfast anyway.”

She dug around inside of her oversize hobo bag, pulling out random objects until she found what she was looking for. A pink bakery box that she handled like it was made of glass.

As she set to work on it with her dainty fingers, she flashed a smile that lit up her entire face.

I imagined Nicole as one of those perky cheerleader types back in high school. She had a perfect figure accented by her Lululemon clothing and long blonde hair that had every man in the park turning their head. She never seemed to notice.

I felt like the poor man’s version. My hair was strawberry blonde, or as I liked to call it, the devil’s mark. It was an unfortunate inheritance from my mother’s Irish roots, which only made me resent it more. I’d also inherited her porcelain skin and hazel eyes. They often changed colors to reflect my mood, but today they were a cloudy hue of gray.

“Here you go.” Nicole wiggled a fluffy pink cupcake in front of me.

“Breakfast?” I laughed.

She handed it off with a flourish and licked the residual frosting from her thumb. “When isn’t a good time for cupcakes? And I promise you, these are the best.”

I twirled the pastel confection in my hand, enjoying the scent of vanilla that wafted into the air. It almost looked too good to eat.

“Thank you, Nicole.”

“No problem,” she said. “Now, I have a question for you.”

“Okay?”

Her face grew serious, and she set her cupcake down before giving me her full concentration. “Would you say you consider me a friend?”

“Of course.” I gave her a weak smile, already knowing where she was going with this.

“Well, friends talk to each other, don’t they?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “But this feels a little too personal. I don’t want to dump my problems on you after only knowing you for a couple of weeks.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” She rolled onto her side and propped her head in her hand. “Because I’m going to have to insist.”

I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to find the right words to describe my situation. I never talked about my problems to anyone, and I feared once I opened that door, I wouldn’t be able to shut it again. There was a lot that could have spilled out of my mouth. Like how difficult the last five years had been. How my brother’s accident had destroyed my family and broken my heart. How I barely managed to graduate high school or how I thought San Francisco was my golden opportunity.

But all of those things were too close to my heart, and Nicole and I weren’t quite on that level yet. So instead, I told her the simple truth of my most urgent problem.

“I worked in a bakery chain back home,” I said. “And the company offered me an apprenticeship. That’s the whole reason I came to San Francisco. But

I haven’t even started yet, and I got bumped from the program. They said there were some unexpected budget cuts.”

“I’m sorry, Brighton.” She frowned. “So what are you going to do now?”

I shrugged because truthfully, I had no idea. I used all of my savings to come here, and I only had enough to keep my room for the next two weeks.

I’d been counting on this, and I had nobody else to rely on, but I couldn’t tell Nicole that.

I should have known it was too good to be true. Things like this didn’t just happen out of the blue for me. I should have looked into it better, made certain it was a concrete offer. It wasn’t as if I was dying to be a baker’s apprentice, but it was the only offer I had. And I had clung to it.

“Well, you have some office experience, don’t you?” Nicole asked.

“A little.” I gave her a sheepish nod. “Sometimes I filled in at a tire shop back home. Answering the phones and booking appointments. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Well,” she spoke in a gentle tone, “my company is hiring. It’s normally pretty brutal competition to get in, but there’s an open spot for an office goto girl, and since you know someone on the inside…”

She left the words hanging in the air, and I took the bait without hesitation.

“You think you could get me an interview?”

“I can do better than an interview.” She winked. “I’m the coordinator for the intern program.”

“You are?” I blinked in confusion. “But you’re so young.”

She stiffened at my blunt observation, and I slumped against the tree. I didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but it was a truth that couldn’t be ignored.

Nicole was only a year older than me, which would put her at twenty-two.

Even if she was fresh out of college, I didn’t see how she could already be running an internship program.

“I am young,” she agreed. “But I’m in tight with the CEO. And I may look sweet and innocent, but I wouldn’t underestimate me, Brighton.”

She smiled as she said it, but there was also a slight edge to her voice that I found a little odd. It disappeared a moment later when she picked up her cupcake.

“Now we just need to talk about finding you a more permanent place to stay.”

Chapter Two

As the elevator signaled its arrival to the top floor of The Bennett Corporation, my stomach somersaulted with nerves.

This place was so different to what I’d been expecting. It was a young environment, filled with fresh faces and an abundance of energy. But that didn’t fool me into thinking I was anywhere near being in my league.

During this morning’s presentation, I’d been surprised to learn that the CEO was only twenty-nine years old. According to the manifesto, Mr. Bennett founded this Corporation as a simple cloud storage provider. But over the last three years, it had quickly expanded into one of the biggest tech giants this side of the Mississippi.

As I’d filled out paperwork with some of the other interns, I heard them dropping terms like ‘MIT’ and ‘Stanford.' I tried not to let it get to me, but when they started talking in tech speak, I was completely lost. Then one of them tried to include me in the conversation, asking where I went to school.

I’m sure I looked like a fish out of water as I tried to come up with something clever in response. But there was nothing clever to be said. I hadn’t gone to college because that wasn’t an option for me. Even if I had, I doubted I’d ever be as smart as any of these people. I’d spent the majority of the last few years trying to put food on the table and keep up with the rent. I didn’t have time for any other interests besides basic survival.

If Nicole hadn’t been standing on the other side as the elevator doors opened, I might have bolted. I didn’t know what I was doing in this place. I had no skills, no qualifications, and I had no idea how she’d managed to convince them I’d be of any use in this company.

The entire building was a conglomeration of marble and glass, and every line was so clean you could have sharpened a set of Ginsu knives on them. I was afraid to walk across the floors because they were so shiny, and every cell in my body was insistent I didn’t belong here.

Nicole gripped me by the shoulders and gave me a quick once over. I was wearing the white rose printed dress and matching baby pink cardigan I’d found on my bed this morning. Since she’d asked me to crash at her apartment, Nicole had insisted I borrow her clothes as often as I liked. With

the designer labels, it was a very tempting offer. But these particular ones made me look sweet and innocent, which was definitely not the style I was going for. When I told her as much, she argued and said they suited me.

Still, Nicole was a lifeline, and I was grateful for her help. Even though I was nervous and uncomfortable, she’d gone out of her way to get me this job. I needed to suck up my own insecurities and do her proud.

“Don’t worry.” She smoothed her hands over my shoulders. “He’s going to love you.”

“Sorry?” I blinked at her in confusion. “Who’s going to love me now?”

“The CEO, silly.” She tugged my hand and started walking down the hallway. “Ryland Bennett. You’re going to meet with him now.”

My heels dug into the floor as I came to an abrupt halt, my apprehension for the shiny tile of little concern to me now.

“What do you mean I’m meeting with the CEO?” I croaked. “I thought this was an internship. The other interns are downstairs going to some sort of meeting, shouldn’t I be with them?”

“That’s for the techie group.” She smiled. “And Mr. Bennett insists on knowing every person that works for his company. Even the interns. He says it makes for good business practice. And he’s the billionaire, so I think he would know.”

“I’m sorry.” I ground my feet into my pumps to keep from falling over.

“Did you say, billionaire?”

“Yes, of course, I did.” Nicole threw her head back in laughter. “Didn’t you even look up the company? He’s on the freaking Forbes list, Brighton.”

I cast my eyes to the floor and shook my head. It hadn’t even occurred to me, which only proved how wrong it was for me to be here. I was just a simple girl from Illinois. I kneaded dough in a bakery. Interning for a tech giant? It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I blurted. “This was so stupid of me.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Nicole shook her head. “You’re going in there Brighton, and you’re going to dazzle him. I promise you.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She squeezed my shoulders. “That you don’t have the right experience, and this feels all wrong. You’re going to mess up, or blah blah. Well, sweetie, that’s exactly why I think you’re perfect for this position. You’re a fresh canvas. You don’t have any

preconceived notions about what it is you’re supposed to be doing. But you’re willing to learn, and you’re willing to work hard, right?”

“Yes.” I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek.

“Good, then that’s all I can ask of you. Now get in there and flash those pearly whites. He doesn’t like to wait.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the door we were standing in front of. It was solid and heavy, which reflected the way my body felt as I tried to make it cooperate.

“Go on,” Nicole encouraged. “He’ll be right in to greet you.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I pressed my palm against the smooth wood. Despite the heavy appearance, the door opened easily and without a sound. Nicole gave me a thumbs up and shut the door behind me as I disappeared inside.

The office was huge. Had it not been so barren, it might have bordered on ostentatious. If it was a minimalistic theme the man was going for, he’d nailed it. More sharp lines greeted my eyes everywhere I looked, making me grateful for the soft cocoon of my cardigan as I wrapped it around me.

The place was sparse with only the necessary furnishings and little else to capture the eye. But I didn’t doubt that every one of those strategically placed Jetson’s style chairs still cost more than I made in an entire year.

Not knowing what else to do while I waited for the elusive CEO, I lingered in front of his desk. It felt too presumptuous to sit, and yet it seemed awkward if I just stood there. So I did what I usually did in these situations.

I fidgeted.

I tugged on the hem of my dress. Brushed my hair back over my shoulders and pulled it back again. I had a serious mental debate about whether my cardigan should be buttoned or not while I checked my shoes for any scuffs.

Once I’d finished with all that, I started to pace around his office. I didn’t know where this guy was, but I found it rather odd for him to leave me here. I assumed someone in his position would be more concerned with his privacy than to allow a stranger to roam free, but what did I know? I was just another cog in the machine.

A strange looking metal sculpture caught my eye, and I almost reached out to touch it. But then I reminded myself that probably wasn’t appropriate.

Five minutes later, as I sat presumptuously in front of the desk, I decided to forgo that thought. Three round marble paperweights in front of me were too shiny to resist. They weren’t actually holding down any paper but lined up like ducks in a row. That should have been my first clue.

“Miss Valentine.”

I jumped at the voice behind me, instinctively jerking the paperweight and making it clatter to the floor. I retrieved it with a shaky hand and set it back on the desk before swiveling around in my seat.

When my gaze swept across the room, my mouth fell open and out tumbled what remained of my decorum.

Those eyes.

My fingers flexed and curled in my lap as I stared at the peculiar shade of gunmetal blue. The same shade that had haunted me for the last five years.

God, they were even more beautiful than I remembered. But they looked different somehow. Colder. They swept over me without recognition, and I died a little inside. What was he doing here?

I swallowed as I stood on shaky legs and gave him a small smile. Perhaps I looked different… perhaps it would take him a minute to remember. It was dark that night… and yet I could still recall every detail of his face.

Those details hardened over time, making him even more masculine than I remembered. His hair was just a shade shy of black, and it accented his eyes beautifully. He was clean cut, and everything about him was perfect. Too perfect, almost. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair while I kissed along his jaw line. I briefly wondered if he still wore the same cologne, and if I were to bury my nose in his neck, if that was the scent I would find there.

There was something seriously wrong with me. But for five long years, I’d thought of this man. Of his kiss, his touch, his broken promises. And now that I faced his careless indifference, I questioned if I had somehow imagined it all.

I watched his eyes eagerly, but recognition never sparked. He stalked around to the other side of his desk and gave me a business-like smile.

“Why don’t you have a seat,” he suggested. “I’m sorry I was running behind.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I wasn’t sure why. His voice was warm, professional even. The way an employer should be. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

I took a seat and crossed my legs, not sure what else to do with them. He straightened a few things on his desk before eyeing the marble paperweight I had disrupted earlier. It clearly bothered him that it was no longer in a perfect line, and yet he refrained from straightening it. That was something

that hadn’t changed at least. He paid attention to everything. Noticed every detail. So why didn’t he remember me?

I swallowed and bobbed my heel up and down as I waited for him to speak.

He grabbed a folder from the top of his desk and started rifling through some paperwork, and I used the opportunity to study him discreetly.

Success looked good on him. He wore dark wash jeans and a gray blazer with an open collared dress shirt beneath. Smart and casual. Every time he moved, the fabric stretched across his chest, giving me a little glimpse of the muscular power that lay beneath. He loomed larger than my memory had done him justice, standing at around six feet at least. Now fully grown, I only stood at five foot one myself. My height and hair color had always hindered my ability to blend in, or at least I had thought.

The temperature in the room didn’t improve when he swung his gaze back to me. He appraised every inch of me with a neutral expression before he scanned my resume with obvious disinterest. I’d never felt so small, so unsure. I had no idea what to do or say in this situation, and I even found myself questioning the way I sat.

Yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. The tension was still there between us even now. I could feel it, so why couldn’t he?

“You don’t have much experience,” he observed.

I shrunk back into my chair and closed myself off, trying to dispel the bitter taste in my mouth. While I had been busy fantasizing about this man who didn’t even remember me, all he could say was how little I had to offer him.

I may have been five years older, but I wasn’t any wiser. This was my golden opportunity, and it was swirling down the drain with every passing moment.

I searched my mind desperately for the right thing to say, anything that could salvage this chance, but I was coming up short. And the longer I sat there, not speaking, the more awkward things got between us.

“I’m a fresh canvas,” I blurted. “You can do what you like with me.”

The minute I’d said the words I was mortified and my cheeks burned in agreement. Ryland sank into his leather chair, drumming his fingers on the white surface of his desk while he studied me. His eyes darted to the marble paperweight twice more, but he still didn’t touch it.

It only served to remind me how much I didn’t fit in here. This man was neat and tidy and had a place for everything. Gone were the passion and fire I thought I’d once seen in him. Had my memory altered him so drastically?

I was certain this was it. He was going to tell me to leave and never come back. But regardless of my feelings, I needed this job. More than I wanted to admit. So I decided to try another tactic. One that I wasn’t proud of.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

He looked up at me, and something passed between us. I thought I saw heat flare in his eyes, but it happened so quickly, I couldn’t be sure if it was just my imagination. Because a moment later, he snapped his gaze to his watch with disinterest.

“I apologize if my manners are lacking,” he said. “Did I meet you at a benefit or something?”

Okay, so that wasn’t going to work either. I gave him a tight smile and decided to accept my fate. I would be sleeping in a homeless shelter soon enough.

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “It was a long time ago.”

He nodded and pressed the button on his intercom, calling out for Nicole.

We sat in silence until she appeared in the doorway a moment later. He gestured her inside, and I clung to her presence as though it were a lifepreserver.

“Nicole.” He greeted her as he readjusted the marble paperweight discreetly. “Is this the last of the interns?”

This. Being me. I shot Nicole a pleading glance, but she just smiled and kept her cool composure.

“It sure is, boss.”

“What do you intend to do with this one?” he queried.

“Well, I thought she could work up here. Stacey is always whining about how much stuff she has to do…”

“Here?” he asked incredulously. “On the fifteenth floor?”

Oh God, this was humiliating. Not only did he not remember kissing me- a kiss I’d long since been dreaming of- but he was treating me as if I was a complete and utter waste of space. I wanted to tell him not to worry about it. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need this job or any more of his time. But none of those things were true, and I had to swallow my pride and accept whatever scrap of kindness he would offer me.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Nicole smiled sweetly.

He mulled this over for a moment before giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Fine.”

As we walked out of his office, I had conflicting feelings about my new job.

Though my self-preservation was relieved at the prospect of an income, my indignation won out. He’d just treated me as if I was trash, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

“He’s kind of rude,” I whispered to Nicole as soon as we were in the clear.

She shot me a defensive look and shook her head in disappointment. “He’s really not. So I would withhold your judgments about him until you get to know him.”

Chapter Three

“You’ve put all these labels on wrong!” Stacey screeched, reaching for another handful of TUMS from her ever-present bottle.

She was a forty-something woman who wore a perpetual frown on her face, and I marveled at the fact she hadn’t succumbed to a heart attack yet.

Between the entire pots of coffee, menthol cigarettes, and antacids she ingested on a daily basis, I could only imagine what her blood pressure was like.

“You told me they were supposed to be numerical,” I reminded her.

“No, I specifically said alphabetical,” she barked.

I knew she didn’t, but there was no point arguing with her. Something I’d learned quickly over the last two weeks at The Bennett Corporation. I was a lowly intern, and my job consisted of menial duties I was certain to mess up every opportunity I got. Or at least that’s what Stacey thought. All of the other interns were having a blast, but they were the smart ones. Me? I got saddled with Suffering Stacey. Yes, that’s what they called her here. And while everyone else I worked with was really nice, I couldn’t find it in me to like this woman, no matter how hard I tried.

I suspected that she was intentionally pushing my buttons to get a reaction out of me. She obviously didn’t know me very well. I’d grown up with far worse as a mother, and I learned a long time ago which battles to fight and which to let go.

“I’ll fix them.” I shrugged out of my cardigan and settled in for another long night.

She lingered over my desk with twisted lips, no doubt looking for other ways to torture me. “That’s right you’ll fix it,” she snapped. “You’re on thin ice as it is, Miss Valentine.”

I bit my tongue and nodded, waiting until she walked away to let out a sigh of relief. My fingers started to work while my thoughts drifted elsewhere. I was halfway through my mental composition of Brayden’s next letter when a voice interrupted me.

“Hey, need a hand?”

I glanced up to see Matt leaning against my desk with a grin on his face. He was another intern on this floor, and he claimed to be completely dedicated to the job. Though, I suspected by the way he tossed flirtatious smiles around the office that wasn’t exactly the case.

“Sure.” I slid over to make room for him. “If you feel like staying late again.”

“What else do I have to do?” he teased. “Not like I have a life outside of this place.”

Nicole was on her way out, and she stopped by my desk to say goodbye. It was her little ritual to ask what I wanted for dinner or what my plans were for the evening. But tonight, she looked like she had something else on her mind.

“Hey.” She looked at Matt and then away. The temperature in the room ratcheted about a thousand degrees, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed this before.

“Hey,” Matt replied.

His face had grown serious, and in place of his usual carefree smile was a look of pure agony. He caught me staring, so he dragged his attention back to the files while I spoke to Nicole. She looked just as miserable herself as she regarded the back of his head, and I wondered what was going on between them.

“Is Stacey keeping you late again?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” I told her. “I made a mistake, and I offered to stay behind to fix it.”

She frowned and then gave Matt one last glance as she clutched her purse against her. “Well, I’ll get you some sushi for dinner if you want.”

“Thanks.” I nodded. “That would be really nice.”

Nicole padded off to the elevators, and Matt’s shoulders fell. I wanted to ask him what the deal was, but I didn’t know him well enough to pry like that. So instead we spent the next two hours bantering about nothing in particular, which made the work go by fast. By the time I glanced at the clock, it was already seven pm. Most of the workers had gone for the day, and we had the entire floor to ourselves.

When Matt applied the last label to the file, I sighed in relief.

“Huh,” he muttered.

“Huh, what?”

“Well, don’t look now,” he said beneath his breath. “But we have an audience.”

I didn’t have to look to know who he was referring to. Ryland was always here on nights that I had to stay behind. The man was a certified workaholic. And even though I often felt someone’s eyes on me, I’d been too chicken to turn around and check for myself.

“He seems to have taken quite a liking to you,” Matt observed.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed. “He doesn’t even know I exist.”

“There’s a rumor going around the building that he pulled you into his office on the first day.”

I glanced up at Matt in confusion, noting his eyes held a hint of concern.

“Nicole said he likes to meet all the interns.”

Matt shook his head and laughed darkly. “Of course she did.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “Isn’t that normal?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been here for six months, and I’ve never once seen him bring any other intern into his office for an introduction.”

His words made my stomach flip, and I had more questions on the tip of my tongue. But a shadow passed over my desk, and I could have sworn a gust of cold air moved through the room. When I looked up, Ryland Bennett was standing over us, his expression unreadable.

“Matthew.” He glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting home?”

Matt looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. He gave him a stiff nod before he stood and glanced back at me with a smile.

“Still on for tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I shrugged, my eyes darting back to Ryland. “Just text me.”

Matt nodded and walked to the elevator bank, leaving me to gather up my things under Ryland’s sharp gaze. I didn’t know why he was still standing there, hovering over me. It took me three attempts to get the zipper on my bag shut, and I ended up knocking over a jar of paperclips in the process.

I moved to clean them up when Ryland stopped me.

“Do I make you nervous, Miss Valentine?” he asked. “You seem to be in the habit of dropping things around me.”

My gaze swung to his, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. He was teasing me, and I couldn’t stop my own lips from curling in response.

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “I guess I didn’t expect to be seeing so much of you here.”

He leaned back against my desk and scrutinized me with an arched brow.

“This corporation is my lifeblood, Miss Valentine. You can’t accomplish anything in this world without the right amount of motivation.”

“I can see that.” I massaged the tension from my neck, unsure what else to say. I was only highly motivated not to be sleeping on the street.

Ryland surprised me as he reached for my arm and pulled me closer. For a moment, he just let his eyes roam over my face. I wanted to ask him if he remembered, but I couldn’t find the words. And when he swept my hair over my shoulders and wrapped his fingers around the nape of my neck, I forgot them completely.

I shivered beneath his touch as he started to massage the tension from my muscles. His fingers were warm and strong, just like I remembered, and they still made my legs feel like jelly too. I hated that part, but I couldn’t admit it while he was touching me. His breath was hot on my skin, and I was afraid that if I opened my eyes, his lips would be right there. Teasing me of memories past.

He didn’t say a word as he did it, and neither did I. Truthfully, I was a little shocked by his inappropriateness. Why he would risk such behavior in the workplace was beyond me. He acted as though he couldn’t help himself, and yet he pulled away a moment later, leaving me more confused than ever.

“You’re finished for the evening, Miss Valentine.”

His voice cut through me like butter, and when I glanced up into those blue eyes, a jolt of longing hit me hard and swift. He looked like he could use a good massage himself, and for a moment, I wanted to be the one to give it to him. It was crazy, but I had all sorts of hormones surging through my body. A product of my inexperience? I hoped so. God help me if it was like this with all men who showed a slight interest in me.

I gathered up my things and scurried from the building before I could do something stupid. *** “Will you please come with me?” I begged Nicole. “A bunch of the other employees are going.”

Nicole was so engrossed in whoever she was texting I doubted she’d even heard me. But I continued on anyway.

“Matt will be there,” I added, hoping this might entice her. “And he asked me if you were coming.”

This earned me her attention, and something weird passed over her features as she shook her head minimally.

“Then I’m definitely not going.”

“C’mon, why not?” I pushed. “I can tell there’s something going on between you two. I think he really likes you.”

“Well, I’m not interested,” she huffed.

I knew that wasn’t true, so I kept at it.

“Well, if you went tonight, maybe you two could talk and get to know each other,” I suggested. “No pressure or anything. But I’ve seen the way you look at him, Nicole…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “I said I wasn’t interested.”

I flinched at the harshness of her tone and held up my hands in a gesture of defeat. She was always so happy and easy going, I’d never expected to hit a nerve like I just had.

She sighed, turning away from me as she walked to the window. We had one of the best views in the city from this apartment. The floor to ceiling glass and extended balcony framed the entire bay area. I was sure it came with a hefty price tag, but according to Nicole, the Bennett Corporation was footing the bill.

Again, it didn’t make much sense to me, given that Nicole was a program coordinator and not upper management. But when I started to ask questions she got a little funny about the whole thing, so I dropped it.

The place was nicer than anything I ever could have expected to live in. It had a loft style feel and three huge bedrooms. The walls were all pristine white, and the floors cherry hardwood. It was bright and airy, and yet empty somehow. Nicole flitted around the place like a ghost, coming and going without a sound most of the time. I had only lived with her for a couple of weeks, but it seemed like she was becoming increasingly distant. I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted to fix it.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But there are some things I haven’t told you. I’m still trying to recover from my last relationship, and I’m not ready to date yet.”

“Oh.” I slid from the barstool I was propped on. “I’m sorry Nicole, I didn’t realize. But you know I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

She gave me a tight smile before turning her attention back to the city below.

“And I understand if you don’t want to go tonight,” I added. “It was silly of me to keep pushing the issue.”

“Thanks.”

Her phone rang, and she frowned at the screen before glancing back at me.

“I have to take this.”

She walked out of the room, talking in hushed whispers, and I tried to ignore the weird feeling in my gut. Nicole had been taking a lot of private phone calls since I moved in, and she was never too happy about them. I wanted to ask her who was on the other line, but again it felt like an invasion of privacy.

So instead, I dragged myself to my room to get ready. I didn’t have a large selection of clothes, so I settled on the one pair of cute jeans I owned and a simple black tank top. The benefit of hanging out with Matt was I didn’t feel the need to impress him. We were friends, and that was it.

When I walked back out to the entryway fifteen minutes later, Nicole was waiting for me. She was dressed in designer jeans and a cute little sparkly top, and she had her purse slung over her shoulder.

“I changed my mind,” she announced. “I decided I want to go after all.”

I nodded and bit my lip, deciding not to say anything as we stepped into the hallway together. Because even though she was dressed to go out, Nicole looked like she’d rather do anything else.

Chapter Four

We met at a bar that was supposed to be an ironic trailer trash theme. The irony wasn’t lost on me as we stepped inside. My life in a trailer park was never this glamorous.

It was at this point I realized I was now living in an alternate universe.

Since I’d moved to San Francisco, I’d somehow ended up living in a luxury apartment and working for a billion dollar corporation. I’d hardly had time to blink, and yet everything was changing before me. Now here I was, socializing with people who thought it was fun to venture to the low class for entertainment.

I couldn’t blame them, but it made me feel like I had to keep my real identity hidden away. Most of my co-workers came from well-to-do families who had racked up generations of Ivy League Diplomas. The only one who I thought might have been closer to my side of the spectrum was Matt.

He greeted Nicole and I at the bar, dressed in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. Simple and casual, and much more suited to his personality than his daily business attire.

“Good evening, ladies.” He winked and handed us a couple of menus. “Pick your poison, drinks are on me.”

Nicole pursed her lips and tried to hand it back. “I’m not drinking anything.”

Matt gave her a tight smile and took the menu from her hand. “Fine, then I’ll order you whatever Brighton’s having.”

He turned to me, and I tried to hide the smile behind my menu as they continued to bicker.

“I guess I’ll try the Kool-Aid cocktail. Sounds like my style.”

“Perfect.” Matt flagged down the bartender. “Two Kool-Aid cocktails coming right up. Why don’t you ladies grab us a seat somewhere.”

To my surprise, Nicole didn’t argue him on this point, and I followed her towards the back of the bar. There were groups of other employees scattered about, but she didn’t seem too eager to mingle with them. Instead, she chose a dark corner in the back.

Once we sat down, she dug around in her purse and retrieved a pill container.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my eyes lingering on the pill in her hand.

“I’m fine.” She gave me a weak smile. “I get a little anxious sometimes, that’s all.”

“Hey, Brighton, Nicole. Nice to see you here.”

I glanced up to see one of the other employees from the Bennett Corporation standing over us. I’d seen him around a few times, but we didn’t work on the same floor, so I was surprised he even knew my name.

“Hello.” I smiled politely.

“It’s Tom.” He pointed at his chest. “I’m afraid we haven’t had much time to speak to each other at the office.”

Nicole ignored him as she pulled out her phone, leaving me to fend for myself.

“No, I guess we haven’t,” I agreed.

He gestured to one of the empty chairs next to me. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh.” I shifted in my chair and snuck a glance at Nicole. “Of course not.”

He took a seat beside me and started to chatter away about work. After a few minutes, I relaxed. Tom seemed happy to steer the conversation, so I just followed his lead. When Matt returned with our drinks and sat down, he furrowed his brows when he saw that Tom had joined us.

Still, he made an effort to keep up the conversation and be polite. They both peppered me with questions about my life and what I thought of San Francisco. Every time the waitress came over they ordered us another round of drinks. The danger was that mine tasted like juice, and judging by the way my head was spinning I may have had a little too much fun.

I didn’t like to feel out of control, which is why I’d never gotten drunk before. I may have been twenty-one, but I certainly didn’t act like it. When you have an addict for a mother, it tends to dissuade you from pursuing such forms of entertainment.

When I told Tom I was done drinking for the night, he didn’t look too pleased about it.

“C’mon, one more isn’t going to hurt.”

“She said no,” Matt warned. “So let it go.”

Tom held up his hands and sighed. “Okay fine, fine. You’re done drinking, I get it.”

He leaned forward on his elbows and slid a tiny bag of white powder across the table. “So how about something to take the edge off instead?”

Matt cracked his knuckles and leaned forward too, his biceps stretching the leather of his jacket to its breaking point.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Nicole grabbed his arm, and something passed between them. She looked like she was pleading with him, but for what, I couldn’t understand.

“Don’t let Matt tell you what to do,” Nicole spoke in a wobbly voice. “If you want to try it, Brighton, I’ll do it with you.”

“What?” I stammered, my eyes darting to the powder as I shot up out of my seat. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t… I think you have the wrong impression of me. I don’t do that stuff.”

Matt followed suit, his chair clattering behind him as he stared at Nicole with obvious disappointment. I retreated, only to back into a hard chest behind me.

I spun around with trembling arms and met the last person I’d been expecting to see there. Ryland braced me with his arms, staring down at me with the oddest expression. His entire body was tense, and yet his eyes were molten hot. The same heat I’d seen in them five years ago when he laid claim to my mouth with his.

For all my assertions of not having an addictive personality, I knew right then it was a lie. Because looking into the depths of those blue eyes was like free-falling a hundred stories. It was the ultimate high, and I would do anything for it.

He pressed his hand to my back, helping me to regain my balance as I swayed on my feet. He was so tall I had to stretch my neck to look up at him, but I felt safe in his arms. My heart hammered against my chest when I caught the scent of his cologne and inhaled without shame.

He smelled so good I wanted to bury my nose in his sweater and never leave. But he withdrew his body from mine, giving my arm one final squeeze with his hand.

“I’m glad to know that your morals are in the right place, Miss Valentine.

But there are some other issues I need to address now.”

He swung his gaze towards Tom and jerked his head towards the door. “If I may?”

The two of them walked off together, leaving no doubt as to what had just happened. Matt’s face was completely white as he spoke to Nicole.

“He saw everything, didn’t he?”

She didn’t answer him as she stood up and clutched her purse across her chest, her eyes boring into me.

“You ready to go?”

“Sure.” I nodded weakly. “Just let me grab my coat.”

Chapter Five

My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen wearily. Very few people ever called me, and when they did, it was usually never good news.

But this time, I smiled when I saw the name that flashed across the screen.

The operator’s voice asked me if I wanted to accept the call, and I immediately said yes. After a moment’s pause, Brayden’s voice came onto the line.

“Hey,” he greeted me.

“Hey, yourself.” I sank onto the sofa with a sigh of relief. “You didn’t call me last week, I was getting worried.”

“You know I don’t like you to pay for these stupid calls,” he grumbled.

“And I write you letters, isn’t that enough?”

“I suppose.” I tugged at a loose thread on my sweater. “But I’m working full time now, Brayden. So you can call me anytime you want.”

“I saw in your letter,” he replied. “How do you like the job?”

I chewed on my lip and tried to find the right words. “It’s good. I’m an intern for now, but it keeps me busy. And a roof over my head, which is good.”

“What’s the name of the company?” he asked. “I don’t think you mentioned it.”

I winced at his question. I hated lying to my brother.

“Well, it’s a bunch of companies,” I mumbled. “I’m… uh, I work for an agency. You know, like a contractor. But they really liked me, so…”

I was babbling. And it was going to make Brayden suspicious, so I changed the subject quick.

“Anyway, hey have you heard from Norma? I haven’t talked to her in a while either.”

“No,” Brayden responded. “I’ve tried calling her a couple of times, but she never answers.”

The line was silent for a moment while be both let those words sink in. We knew why, of course. Though I knew better than Brayden did. I wasn’t about to tell him she was probably lying in a pool of her own vomit somewhere with a needle in her arm. Before he went to prison, she was just

an alcoholic with an affinity for pain killers. Now it was a whole different ballgame.

“I’m sure I’ll get a hold of her soon,” Brayden assured me.

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but there was something else I wanted to ask him. Something I knew for certain would make him suspicious, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Hey, do you remember the night before you went away when you had all those people over?” I asked.

“Yes.” “Remember that guy, the one you got angry at me for talking to?”

I couldn’t tell him his real name since I’d hounded Brayden for months and he never told me.

“What about him?” his voice was pure ice. “Have you run into him or something?”

“No, nothing like that,” I assured him. “I just remembered it the other day when I was looking at photos. You never did tell me what that was about.”

“It isn’t your concern,” he said flatly. “And I want to know why you’re bringing him up.”

“I just told you.”

“He lives in Chicago, so you shouldn’t ever see him. Or hear from him. But if you do… stay the hell away from him. I mean it, Brighton.”

“Okay, I got it,” I grumbled.

Why did he think Ryland lived in Chicago?

“Listen, I have to go,” he said. “But I’ll call you next week okay?”

“Alright Brayden, I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. Take care.” *** By the time Thursday rolled around, I was a loose cannon. I’d spent the entirety of the week googling random bits of information about Ryland Bennett during my breaks, and I was starting to think I had a problem.

Why was I so curious about this man? There were so many unanswered questions. Like how he fit into Brayden’s life, or how he was a billionaire and I didn’t even know it. How the universe had conspired to bring me to the very company he founded and the city that he lived in. Of course, these weren’t exactly office appropriate questions, so I had to resort to google.

According to public record, he used his inheritance to fund the startup of the Bennett Corporation four years ago, and since then he’d never looked back. Every article I found about him was business related, with some generic biographies thrown in. There was no mention of him in Chicago at all, so I didn’t understand why Brayden thought he lived there. The articles said he was a California native and that his uncle was another notable real estate tycoon. There was also a mention that the billionaire was fiercely protective of his privacy, and the rest of his life was a complete mystery. Of course, it only made me more curious.

After the incident at the bar, I hadn’t seen Tom come back to work, and I could only assume Ryland had fired him. I asked Nicole about it, but she said she didn’t know. I didn’t really believe that because she was very reluctant to talk about the situation at all. There had been no mention of what she’d said that night at the bar, but I noticed that things between her and Matt were even more strained than usual. Neither one of them were speaking much at all, and I was starting to get paranoid about the whole thing.

When the opportunity arose on Wednesday, I cornered Matt in the break room at lunch.

“What’s up with you?” I asked, planting myself against the counter while he unwrapped a sandwich.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been avoiding me all week. Does this have anything to do with what happened at the bar last weekend? Did Mr. Bennett say something to you?”

He gave me a disapproving glance as he took a big bite of his sandwich.

“I’m not avoiding you, Brighton,” he said. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Oh.” I blinked.

The room was stuffy, and Matt wouldn’t take his eyes off his sandwich. I couldn’t stand the silence or the feeling that I was the only one who didn’t know what was going on, so I turned to leave.

“Wait.” Matt sighed.

I turned back to him, and his eyes darted around before he leaned a little closer, gesturing for me to sit down. I did.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” he said in a quiet voice. “Ryland told Nicole that he was there because she forgot to turn in some paperwork when she left work.”

I studied his face and tried to decipher what he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t too hard to guess.

“You don’t believe that.”

His eyes shot up to mine, and he ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore. But Nicole doesn’t do drugs. Ever.

So whatever was going on that night, it wasn’t her.”

“Of course.” I gave him a tight smile.

Over the past few weeks, I’d realized myself that things with Nicole were never black and white. The girl had a lot of secrets, and a darkness I was only just beginning to see. I would have liked to say she was my friend, but at the end of the day, I hardly knew anything about her. She seemed to prefer it that way.

But to put Matt’s mind at ease, I told him what he needed to hear at the moment, whether it was wrong or right.

“I’m sure she was just stressed,” I assured him. “And after what happened to Tom, I doubt she’d ever consider it again.”

“You’re probably right.” Matt frowned. “But I’d still like you to look out for her… if you don’t mind.”

“She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” I grinned. “She’s stuck with me now.” *** Nicole had a meeting that night, so I was left to my own devices when I came home from work. The apartment was lonely without her in it, and it made me realize how much I’d grown used to her presence.

Back in Illinois, I was usually by myself. My mom preferred to feed her addictions away from the comfort of our single wide trailer, which was one thing I guess I could be grateful for. I didn’t have to see her in that state the majority of the time, only when she decided to drag herself home once or twice a week.

I thought when I moved to California, my whole life was going to be different. And in a lot of ways, it was. I had friends, a job, a nice apartment.

And I didn’t have to deal with Norma-Jean. So why did the silence feel louder than ever?

There was no way in hell I could be homesick, but I knew what was really bothering me. I missed Brayden. And I felt guilty for all the things I had

that he didn’t. Since I’d moved out here, I hadn’t been writing him as much either.

He’d been trying to put distance between us since he went away. But I’d fought him every step of the way. Until now. California was changing me.

I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto my bed with a groan. I’d put it off long enough, and I wouldn’t feel right until I’d written him. So I pulled out my stationary and chewed on the pen while I allowed my mind to wander.

Every weekend, without fail, I performed this heartbreaking ritual of trying to find the right words. Words that would bring Brayden a moment of happiness, no matter how small.

He didn’t have it easy in the Greenville Correctional Center. It turned out that even prison wasn’t immune to the local headlines. For a while, it got to the point where he was coming up with all sorts of excuses to explain the bruises or broken bones. Eventually, he gave up on trying to convince me.

When I got the apprenticeship, he told me this was where I needed to be.

Out living my life as far away from Illinois as I could manage. But it didn’t feel right without him.

I reached into the top drawer of my dresser and retrieved the photo I kept hidden there. It was the last night that Brayden was home. The same night I met Ryland Bennett.

Brayden was smiling as he wrapped his arm around me in a display of brotherly affection, but the heaviness in his shoulders couldn’t be missed.

For as long as I could remember, he’d had the weight of the world on those shoulders. He’d taken care of me since our dad skipped town and left us with a mother who couldn’t cope.

He was the responsible one. The one who never veered off the straight and narrow. He liked to have fun, but his family always came first. His responsibilities. That’s why I’d never been able to truly reconcile with what he’d done. I didn’t believe he could do something so stupid and reckless to cost three people’s lives. It wasn’t the Brayden I knew. But when I told him that, he said it was only what I wanted to believe. The newspapers didn’t have the same problem. They vilified him afterwards, making him out to be a complete monster. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing the person you thought was your hero was someone everyone hated.

It had changed him whether he wanted to admit it or not. Over the years, he’d grown harder. His eyes colder. And there was a chasm between us that hadn’t been there before. It grew bigger with every passing year, and I

didn’t know how to fix it. I was afraid by the time Brayden got out, I wouldn’t recognize him at all.

My door creaked open, and Nicole poked her head in. I hadn’t even heard her come in. She glanced at the photo in my hands as she padded across the carpet and sat down on my bed.

“Is that Brayden?” she asked.

I nodded, a little caught off guard that she knew his name. I didn’t tell people about him because a part of me wanted to protect his identity. And now that I thought about it, I couldn’t recall ever telling her either.

“May I?” she gestured to the photo, and I handed it over reluctantly.

She studied it for a long time before handing it back, and when her eyes met mine, they were distant and cloudy. “He doesn’t look like you.”

It was the only thing she said before she got up and walked out of the room. *** Saturday morning greeted me with a loud knocking on the front door, followed by a disheveled Nicole entering my room.

Her hair was mussed from sleep, and her eyebrows pinched together as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Some guy says he has a package for you,” she grumbled. “And he won’t let me sign for it.”

I crinkled my own brows in confusion as I glanced at the clock beside me.

It was only seven am, and I certainly wasn’t expecting any packages.

Nobody even knew I was at this address besides Brayden.

I flung myself out of bed and walked to the front door in zombie mode.

When I opened it, there was a guy standing there with a manila envelope in his hand. But he sure as hell didn’t look like any kind of delivery man I’d ever seen before. He was wearing all black, including leather gloves, and his eyes were shrewd as they appraised me.

“Brighton Valentine?” he held the envelope towards me tentatively.

“Uh yeah?”

He shoved the envelope into my hand without another word and stomped off. It was definitely not a professional delivery, and when I glanced down at the envelope, my curiosity was piqued.

I shut the door and made it as far as the sofa before I tore it open and pulled out a stack of papers. Nicole was in the kitchen fumbling with the coffee pot, and I was glad for it when I saw what the note said.

I have the evidence that could exonerate Brayden I flipped through the stack of paperwork in a state of disbelief as I realized I was being blackmailed. Inside this file were more documents from Brayden’s accident than I ever even knew existed. Half of them were blacked out, and the rest were already a matter of public record.

There was a report from a private investigator, along with photos I’d never seen before. They had dates and time-stamps, and even though the faces were blurry, I knew right away that one of the men was Brayden. They were grainy and appeared to be from some kind of CCTV footage. But the date and time stamp were what drew my attention. Because that was the day the accident happened. Brayden wasn’t alone that night, and this evidence proved it.

Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to collect this information and to make sure I couldn’t use it. As I read through the rest of the paperwork, a sickening clarity washed over me.

There was some sort of informal agreement in the back that stated the sender’s demands. As I read through it, all the blood drained from my face.

Complete control over your body and life for six months…

I read the words over and over again hoping I was somehow misunderstanding them. But by the tenth time, I knew I wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, hovering over me with a furrowed brow.

“You look pale.”

I shoved everything back into the envelope and nodded as she handed me a cup of coffee. Truthfully, I wasn’t okay. I would never be okay again.

Chapter Six

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Nicole persisted through the speaker of my cell phone.

It was the middle of the week, and I’d called in sick to work this morning, but I couldn’t tell her why. Because what I was about to do was stupid and reckless, and the last thing I needed was someone trying to talk me out of it.

I’d already tried to talk myself out of it plenty of times over the last three days. I’d gone over every possible scenario in my head, making myself sick with worry. I could have taken the envelope to the police, but the chances of me getting any help there was nonexistent. I still remembered how helpful they were when Brayden turned himself in. They’d tasered him on our front lawn when they claimed he was resisting arrest. It was an image that was burnt into my memory, and one I’d never forget.

Since then, I’d done a lot of research of my own. I knew how situations like this worked. If there were no fingerprints, then there would be no way to trace this. And my blackmailer made a point to say this. If I went to the police, all the evidence disappeared. Whoever was behind this had been meticulous in their demands as well as their homework.

After sorting through the contents of the envelope in the privacy of my bedroom, I’d found a record of my entire life over the last five years. It made me sick how many times I’d been photographed without even realizing it. Whoever this was knew what they were doing, and I suspected they were watching me even now.

“I just have something I have to do, Nicole,” I croaked through the phone.

“I can’t explain right now. But if I’m not home when you get here after work, please check the kitchen drawer beneath the microwave.”

I’d left her a note, on the chance things did go south.

“Brighton, you’re really giving me the heebie-jeebies, you know that?”

“I know.” I glanced at the clock. “But you just have to trust me.”

“Okay, well… ah crap,” she muttered. “Mr. Bennett is buzzing me into his office. I have to go. Whatever you’re doing today, be careful.”

“I will.” I lied.

I clicked off the phone and left it on the counter per my instructions. With a deep breath and nothing but a hotel key card in my hand, I closed the apartment door behind me. *** It wasn’t as simple as I’d imagined. I thought if I told myself I was doing this for Brayden, it would help to ease my nerves. But that was a damn lie because my nerves were shot. I’d hoped I would be able to stay numb, to think about something else and get it over quickly. Like ripping off a bandaid. But that was naïve and childish and completely impossible in my situation.

Two hours had passed since I’d arrived at the hotel room. I’d done my part to hold up my end of the bargain, but my blackmailer still hadn’t shown. I wore nothing but a dress and a blindfold as instructed, waiting on the middle of the hotel bed for my life to be turned upside down. My body would soon be under the control of a complete stranger. Someone who held the next twenty years of my brother’s life in his hands. That’s what I had to keep telling myself every time my stomach churned.

It made me sick to think anyone could do this to my brother, and I hated this man already. But I could get through this for Brayden, and I would. I had to. And whenever I had second thoughts, I would conjure up the image of him the last time I saw him in prison. The gaunt face and blackened eyes that stared back at me. What the other prisoners saw as just penance for his crime. Except it wasn’t his crime at all. That was what I couldn’t wrap my mind around.

Whoever was doing this knew that. They knew about Brayden, and they let him spend the last five years of his life rotting in prison. And now they had set their sights on me, for whatever unknown reason. Leaving me to tremble as I waited for them to appear. This had to be by design. They wanted me to be afraid. My anxiety was rising by the minute, and I wanted to scream.

Almost as if on cue, the sound of the electronic lock in the door beeped, followed by a soft click. My entire world came to a standstill as my chest rose and fell in soft, measured breaths. I tried to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. Tears stung my eyes as footsteps padded across the room towards me.

“Hello, Brighton.”

Goosebumps skittered over every inch of my body.

The way he said my name. I couldn’t describe it, but there was something off about it. The emotion he conveyed in that simple word was almost too much, and yet not enough. There was a certain inflection that sounded so familiar, and yet his voice was unrecognizable. Low and soft. Calm, but forced. As if there was anger boiling just beneath the surface and he was very practiced at hiding it.

“I see you’ve followed your instructions,” he continued. “Does that mean you agree to my terms?”

I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. I wanted to tell him he was the most disgusting human being that ever lived. But instead, I swallowed my anger and responded as politely as I could muster.

“I have some questions first.”

“I thought you might.”

The bed dipped as he sat beside me, and I nearly jerked my arm out of the socket when he touched my shoulder.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

He hissed out a breath of air, and at that moment, I desperately wished I could see his face. To know what this stranger was thinking. What he planned to do with me. Knowing in my mind he was going to touch me and actually feeling it were two completely different things. Panic was setting in, but I couldn’t show him that. I couldn’t show him weakness.

“I don’t fuck women who aren’t willing,” he snarled. “I thought I made that clear enough. Did you not read the agreement?”

“I did,” I croaked. “You want complete control of my body and life for six months. I just don’t really understand what that means.”

He wrapped his fingers around my ankle and pulled it into his lap, but instead of fighting him, I left it there as he stroked my skin. I gritted my teeth as I prepared for the worst, of the certain disgust I should feel. But his touch was gentle and warm, which confused me. When I came here, I expected something awful to happen to me. Something I might never be able to recover from. But if it meant Brayden not spending the next twenty years in prison, then it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

“Why don’t we go over the terms together,” he suggested. “I will clarify whatever it is that confuses you.”

There was an arrogant pleasure in his tone that I didn’t like, but still, I nodded. I needed to understand exactly what I was getting myself into.

Exactly what I would be giving up to help Brayden.

The stranger shifted his weight, followed by the sound of rustling papers.

He began to rattle off the terms as though this were an everyday occurrence for him.

“Section One. You will be available to me at any time that I may wish, day or night, seven days per week. The length of this agreement is for a period of six months, including any and all holidays. As part of these terms, you agree to maintain phone contact a minimum of once per day in the form of text. Any questions so far?” he asked.

“I have a job,” I replied meekly. “I need to keep my income, I can’t just…”

“Your job is of no importance to me,” he said. “And if I deem it necessary for you to quit, then you will. This is, by definition, having complete control.”

“Okay.” My eyes burned, but I tried to keep my composure as he read on.

“Section Two. Excluding home and work, you will not venture anywhere without my consent. This includes outings with friends or trips to the store.

As part of this stipulation, you are only allowed to use public transportation or a method of transport provided by myself. Riding with friends or in any unauthorized vehicle is strictly forbidden. Questions?”

It was a stupid rule if you asked me, but it was one I could live with, so I shook my head. I hardly went anywhere besides home or work anyway, and I didn’t even know anybody in San Francisco that owned a car besides Nicole.

“Section Three,” he continued. “You are to wear a GPS tracking device at all times. There will be no exceptions to this rule under any circumstances.

Understood?”

“But why do I need a tracker if you already know where I live and work?” I asked. “And if I’m checking in with you, then don’t you trust me to be honest?”

A hollow laugh sounded from his chest as his fingers squeezed my ankle.

“Trust you, Brighton? With your bloodline, I’m surprised you even have to ask that question.”

My stomach knotted. I wanted to tell him he was wrong about me. That he didn’t know me at all. But what was the point? The longer I spent with him, the more callous he sounded. Now all I wanted to do was get this over with, and by the stiffening of my body, it must have been obvious.

“It’s also for your protection.” His hand slid up my calf, making me shiver.

“Bad things happen. I want to make sure none of those things happen to you.”

For a moment, I could almost convince myself it sounded like he cared. But then he spoke again.

“At least… not until I’m done with you,” he amended.

I clamped my mouth shut and nodded.

“The final section,” he concluded, “is that your body is mine to do with as I please. This includes any and all sexual acts, including pleasure and pain. In plain English, Brighton, that means I will fuck you any way that I want. If I give you an order, you will follow it without question. If I tell you to walk into this hotel in nothing but a pair of heels, you will obey. If I tell you to get down on your knees and suck my fucking cock for three hours straight, you will do it. Obedience is the only thing that will save you and get you what you want in this situation. Do you understand?”

My body was shaking now, and I hugged myself in an attempt to regain control. I wasn’t too proud to admit I was terrified. The coldness in this man’s voice scared me on a level I’d never known before. But I had to do it.

Emotionally, I was made of Teflon. I may have been young, but I’d been through a lot in my short life, and I thought I could handle anything this man threw my way. I would do it for my brother. For my blood.

“I understand,” I whispered.

“If you fail to do as I request at any given time, I will punish you, Brighton.

And I can promise you it won’t be pleasant. If it continues to be an issue, I will sever the agreement accordingly,” he repeated. “And with it, all evidence that you require.”

“Alright!” I snapped. “I get it. Stop saying that, please.”

My voice sounded desperate, but I didn’t care. I was desperate.

“Very well. Let’s get started then.”

He got up and padded across the floor, and then there was a pregnant pause of silence that threatened to engulf me. I couldn’t stop shaking. Perhaps if I had done this before, it would be different. But I figured it couldn’t hurt any worse than anything I’d already been through. Women all over the world did this every day for their profession. Surely, I could do it too. I would just think of myself as an escort. But instead of receiving money, I’d be getting a priceless gift. The gift of Brayden’s freedom.

I heard the sound of a zipper being undone followed by the rustling of clothing.

“Stand up,” he said softly. “Undress yourself for me.”

From the location of his voice, I could tell he was sitting in the chair across the room. Watching me. The distance between us felt more threatening than when he was actually touching me.

I rose on trembling legs, lifting my dress up without any kind of finesse.

“Slowly,” he chided.

The soft cotton material fell back to my knees, and I clenched it in my fists as I drew it back up over my body. I didn’t know how to be sexy. I didn’t even want to try. But I had to fulfill his request, so I did as he asked, taking my time before I pulled it over my head and discarded it on the floor.

I stood there and waited for him to say something, anything. It took him forever.

“Now the rest.” His voice was thick, and it disarmed me.

I was wearing a simple white cotton bra and panties. There was nothing sexy about me. If anything, I looked virginal. The irony was too painful to consider.

I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. I tamped down every instinct I had to cover my breasts as the cool air hit them, hardening my nipples. The only thing I could do was focus on the next task, shimmying out of my panties and kicking them aside.

It was all out there now. He could see every part of me. I hated it.

“Now get down on your knees and crawl to me.”

I hesitated, and this earned me a cruel reminder of his control.

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

I sank to my knees and allowed a couple tears to spill from the corners of my eyes. This was the ultimate form of humiliation, and he was getting off on treating me like an animal. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so cruel. So callous.

And yet, I crawled. The carpet burned against my knees, and when my cheek grazed his thigh, I jumped.

“So skittish,” he whispered, tangling a hand in my hair and jerking my head upward. “I like that.”

“Please don’t be rough,” I blurted.

“You don’t get to make those requests,” he said. “Remember?”

His response made my blood run cold. Because it implied that he had every intention of being rough and that he would thoroughly enjoy it. More tears came, and I couldn’t hide them. He wiped them away with his thumbs before he continued his instructions.

“Stand up and put your palms against the wall.”

I rose up again and edged towards the wall, being careful not to trip myself.

I only had my hands to guide me, and he made no effort of helping. But as soon as they were planted firmly in place, I felt his presence behind me.

He gripped my hips and pulled back at the same time he kicked my legs apart. I stumbled into the position reluctantly, every muscle in my body tense and ready for a fight. Then his hands were on me. Everywhere.

His touch was confusing. It was gentle and warm, and he didn’t even try to hide the sound of his pleasure as his palms roamed over my skin. His pained groans told me he’d been waiting a long time for this moment.

He started at the nape of my neck, drifting down my sides and over my ribs.

I shivered when he squeezed my ass in his hands, then glided back up my stomach. When he cupped my breasts, something else flared to life inside of me. A strange sensation that burned in my gut and left me feeling a little bit drunk.

My breathing changed as his lips found my neck, and I couldn’t control it. I was panting, hard. My fear had transformed into something else entirely.

“Do you like my hands on your body?” he whispered into my ear.

I whimpered in response, hoping he wouldn’t make me answer him. That was too cruel. It wasn’t desire, it was biology. My body was adapting to the situation. Doing what it needed to survive. That, I was certain of. Because if I had liked it, liked the hands of this monster, that would have made me a monster too.

His teeth scraped along my throat, all the way down to my shoulder, leaving a certain trail of red marks. It burned, but it made my heart race faster too.

“I want to do everything to you,” he rasped. “Depraved things I haven’t even thought of yet, but that I certainly will.”

When he knelt behind me and dug his fingers into my hips, I cried out. He laughed and then buried his face between my parted legs. I forgot the pain of his grip when his tongue lashed against me. It was soft and gentle at first, and the traitorous desire that simmered inside of me now boiled over.

A sound of surrender escaped my throat when his tongue pushed inside of me. I’d never been so exposed in front of a man before, and I could only

imagine how flushed I must be. Moisture clung to my skin, and my palms grew weak against the wall. I trembled when something zipped up my spine. My belly contracted, and my body grew so stiff I knew I would explode any second.

I squeezed my eyes shut and gasped for air as my toes dug into the carpet. I was so close. So close. Any moment now…

My pleasure fled in a violent shock of pain when he sank his teeth into my inner thigh and bit down. My scream echoed off the walls of the room as I collapsed forward.

He licked at the wound and kneaded my ass cheeks in his hand before he leaned in and drew in a long breath. He was inhaling me, and I wanted to die of shame.

He stood up behind me and pulled my back against his chest as he nipped at my ear. “You didn’t think I would make it that easy did you, Brighton?”

I wanted to cry, but I was in shock. He hadn’t even been inside of me yet, and already I could feel him everywhere. I was certain my hips were bruised from his grip, and he had marked my shoulder and thigh already with his teeth. A shiver ran through me when his arousal dug into my spine.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

I could barely hold myself up, and it showed. I spun in his arms, pressing my back against the wall as he caged me in with his body. He was large. I could feel it now. His body was lean and muscular, and much taller than mine. I felt his eyes on me, his gaze burning through me as he decided on his next method of torture.

It didn’t take me long to find out what that was. He dragged my fingers down to his cock, wrapping my palm around him. It was so thick my fingers didn’t even touch, and suddenly I couldn’t swallow.

“Stroke me,” he breathed.

His anguished voice was unexpected, and it filled me with a strange sort of raw power. I may have been blindfolded, but I wasn’t deaf, and it was obvious I was the one getting to him now. I didn’t understand it. I was nobody, that’s what I’d been told my whole life. But to this man, I was something. Something he wanted very badly.

The warmth of his breath on my cheek surprised me as he smoothed my hair back away from my face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time now, Brighton.” His words skated over my lips, followed by the touch of his mouth.

The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. And it was confusing. I didn’t want to like it, but his lips were soft and inviting, his breath minty and sweet. It reminded me of another time and place, and for a moment, I could pretend it was that man I was kissing.

My lips parted, and he seized the opportunity to taste me. To drink my resistance as if it fueled him. A strangled noise left my throat, and it spurred him on. He cradled my face in his hands as the kiss grew deeper, effectively stealing all the breath from my lungs. Heat coiled low inside my belly as I moved my hand against his rigid flesh. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, but he didn’t complain. In fact, he was making sounds in his throat that seemed to have a direct correlation to my own traitorous body.

Why it should turn me on that I was affecting him this way, I had no idea.

This wasn’t happening the way I had envisioned. I was supposed to hate him, to feel nothing but disgust, but it wasn’t that simple. My body had betrayed me.

When his lips broke away, I actually whined. But then his hands were on me again, rough and possessive as he lifted me up and set me on the table.

The wood was cool beneath my skin, and his voice was even colder when he spoke again.

“How easy you are to bend to my will,” he observed.

A cold front moved between us as his palms bit into my legs, prying them apart. Whatever had happened between us a moment ago was gone, and now fear was left in its place.

His mouth surprised me when he captured one of my nipples between his teeth and gave it a tug. I yelped, only to be shocked when his hand curled around my throat.

“You are here for my pleasure,” he growled as he moved in closer. “Don’t forget that.”

On instinct, my hand came up to his, trying to pry it from the delicate skin around my neck. It had only been a few seconds, but already I couldn’t breathe.

“Please,” I begged.

He slapped my hand away and tightened his grip.

“Don’t fucking move.”

His arousal nudged against my entrance as he squeezed my hip with his other hand to hold me in place. Spots flashed inside of my vision as he tore into me in one deep thrust.

A sob escaped me, and he released my throat and froze. I was burning inside, stretched beyond all comprehension from his rough entrance.

He cursed and leaned back, gripping my thighs as he examined the place where we connected with his fingers.

“Brighton,” he rasped. “Are you a…”

“Yes!” I cried out. “I’m a virgin.”

Another long pause. Tension filled his body, rolling off of him in waves.

My own body was tense, and I was still in pain from his invasion.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said finally, his voice filled with confusion.

I had no idea what he meant by that, but I was suddenly filled with shame.

Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t stop them now. The emotions were too much.

He leaned forward again, surprising me as he cradled me in his arms and tried to soothe me. He kissed every inch of my face, wiping my tears away with his lips.

“I didn’t know. You should have told me.”

I didn’t speak, and as much as I hated myself for it, his touch comforted me.

He held me for a long time, allowing my body to relax around him. Then his lips found my neck, and he shifted his hips, moving inside of me the tiniest bit.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Good,” I admitted.

He kissed me again, long and hard, and he didn’t pull away until we were both breathless.

“You feel so fucking good, Brighton…”

His words trailed off as his breathing grew harder, and my power returned.

To know that I was controlling this man in my own little way was a high all its own. I wanted to push him past his breaking point. I wanted to make him vulnerable to me. To take back what he thought was his to wield.

Using his shoulders to steady me, I rocked my hips down against him, urging him to continue. He met me thrust for thrust, his hands wrapping around my waist to guide me. His movements grew deeper, harder, and I knew he was no longer in control of himself.

Something rattled behind me before it clattered to the floor. The table crashed into the wall and creaked with every thrust. I clung to his biceps, and his fingers found my clit.

He was taking back control. I panted for air, sank my nails into his skin. He groaned.

Something fell from the wall, the sound of glass shattering around us. He thrust harder. The objects on the table dug into my back as he leaned over me, biting his way up my neck.

His fingers worked double time, slapping against my sensitive skin with a roughness I never expected to like. Every cell inside of me sang from his touch as I climbed higher and higher.

“Come for me, Brighton,” he demanded. “Come for me right now.”

Fragments of color exploded behind my eyelids as I transcended the laws of gravity. I was flying, soaring, falling… I couldn’t be sure. There was only one way to come down. I exploded into another dimension as I thrashed beneath him, my fingers digging into his back as ripple after endless ripple washed over me.

I clamped down on his cock, and he swelled inside of me, letting out a string of curses as he let himself go. Warmth flooded my womb as he growled out his release, nipping at my shoulder until he collapsed on top of me.

“You’ll never have another, Brighton.” He stroked my face. “Not now.”

His words scared and aroused me at the same time. I was certain it was a psychological effect to be flattered by someone wanting you so deeply. But at the same time, this was a man who held the power of my brother’s fate in his hands. And I could never forget that.

“Do you want to know who’s inside of you?” he grazed my swollen lips with his thumb.

Truthfully, I wasn’t so sure. Did I want to see the man who had stolen my virginity? The man who was blackmailing me and would be for the foreseeable future. The man who I was already more confused about than I should be. No, I really didn’t. I wasn’t ready for that. And so I shook my head on instinct.

“I knew your agreeability couldn’t last,” he snarled. “What’s the matter, Brighton? Don’t want to know the monster that’s doing these things to you?”

His voice was so cold it sent a chill through me. I tried to move, to get away, but he held me steadfast, gripping my chin in his hand as he gave me another punishing kiss.

I was completely and utterly used as he lifted my body and pulled out of me. And then his cum dripped down my thigh.

A moment of panic seized me, but he didn’t seem to notice as he shuffled away.

“Are you trying to get me pregnant?” I asked in horror.

“Pregnant?” he sounded every bit as horrified by the idea as I was. “No. But I don’t want anything between us, so you’ll need to get on birth control.

Today. I’ve already made an appointment for you.”

I remained silent, unable to process the possible repercussions of this game.

He didn’t waste any more time trying to calm me, though. Instead, he snapped something cold and metal onto my wrist.

“This is the GPS tracker,” he said. “Don’t take it off.”

He let the words hang between us, and I didn’t need him to reiterate why. I belonged to him now, clear as the day was long. I blinked back the tears that threatened, wishing I could understand why he was doing this.

He slipped a card into my palm.

“Your appointment is an hour, so you’d better get dressed. I will contact you tonight on your cell phone, and Brighton, I expect you to have it on you at all times.”

I nodded woodenly, surprised when he leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek. “And don’t even think about taking a shower,” he whispered into my ear.

Chapter Seven

I pulled off the blindfold the minute he walked out the door and attempted to process what was happening. The enormity of what I had just done.

I was horrified and confused, angry and ashamed… but strangely almost all of it was directed at myself. I was horrified that I had liked him inside of me. Confused by my reactions to him. Angry that I’d ever agreed to this, and ashamed for what Brayden would think of me if he ever found out.

But Brayden was everything to me. All of that stuff people said about twins? It was true. He’d already wasted five years of his life rotting in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. A crime that he’d pled guilty to. It didn’t make any sense.

I wanted to ask him about it, but that was one of the specific clauses of the agreement. There would be no discussion with Brayden about anything to do with his case or what I was doing. Not only Brayden but anyone else either. As if I hadn’t isolated myself enough already, this man was going to ensure I continued to do so.

I walked to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror, horrified at what I saw.

He had marked me. Everywhere. Bite marks and bruises littered my body from front to back. I braced myself against the counter and took a deep breath. I couldn’t even recognize the girl staring back at me. My hair was a tangled mess, my pale skin flushed. My mascara was smeared beneath my eyes, and it reminded me of Norma-Jean. I hated that.

His cum still dripped down my thigh, and I couldn’t go to the doctor this way. Ignoring his instructions, I turned the shower on to a scalding hot setting and stepped inside.

The marks on my body couldn’t be washed away, but I hoped that my guilt and shame might. Would he know what I had done? I didn’t care. If he had to punish me, so be it. But I needed to feel clean. To feel like I hadn’t just sold my soul to the devil himself. ***

My cleansing took a lot longer than it should have. I was late to my appointment, but the doctor waited for me. An hour and one Depo shot later, I headed back to the apartment.

Nicole was waiting for me when I walked inside, and she looked sick with worry.

“Brighton?” her gaze swung to the red mark below my neck. She trembled and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God.” “I’m okay,” I assured her. “I went to meet… an old friend. Things got a little crazy between us that’s all. It’s fine.”

My voice was flat and totally unconvincing. Nicole collapsed onto a stool as her head fell into her hands. “What have I done?”

“What are you talking about?” I took a seat beside her and rubbed her back.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She looked at me with bleary eyes and shook her head. “I should have stayed home with you today,” she whispered.

“Nicole, I’m okay, I swear it.” I mustered up a smile for her benefit. “I… I wanted this. It’s like a game. But seriously, I am tired, though. So would you mind if I went to bed?”

“No.” She stood up and grabbed her keys. “You should get some rest. I have errands to run anyway.” *** I woke to pitch black, and the foreboding sense that something was wrong.

When I opened my eyes and saw nothing, it only served to confirm it. I moved my hand to my face in panic when a voice across the room froze me.

“Leave it on,” he said.

Every instinct inside of me told me not to. That I was being stupid earlier when I said I didn’t want to see. Because now, I definitely needed to. To know who this man was. The man that was clearly stalking me.

“I changed my mind.” I reached for the cloth over my eyes.

Before I could remove it, a hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled my arm back into my lap.

“Again,” he said. “Not your decision to make. I agree its better this way.”

“What are you doing in my apartment?” I asked. “My roommate will be home…”

“She’s out with a friend,” he replied.

“How do you know these things about my life?” I croaked.

He pulled me against his chest, smoothing his palm up and down my back as held me close. It was a gesture of comfort, one I really didn’t understand.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said. “To make sure you were alright.”

This time it was regret in his voice, and I wanted to laugh and tell him how ridiculous that was. To pretend he cared about my welfare at all.

“I’m fine.” I pulled away from him, curling my knees into my chest. “So just do what you came here to do.”

He sighed. “That is all I came here to do, Brighton. I was rough with you today. And although I liked the things I did with you very much, I want you to know I would never take things further than that. I’d never really… hurt you.”

Something about the way he said those words, so wracked with emotion, made me believe him. But it changed nothing between us, and I wasn’t dumb enough to think it did. This man was a monster, and I needed to remember that. To remember the reason he was here, in my bedroom, and the pain he had caused my family.

“With that being said,” he continued, the weight of the bed releasing as he stood. “I gave you an order, and you disobeyed me. I will have to punish you for it. There is no leniency in this agreement, and you need to understand that. But I will allow you some time to recover. We’ll meet again on Thursday.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not feel anything. I wanted to stay numb or angry because that’s what I thought I should feel.

“Until then…”

His footsteps carried him from the room with a soft click of the door behind him. I waited a full minute until I removed the blindfold. There, on the table beside me were two dozen blood-red lotus flowers.

Chapter Eight

“Brighton?”

I glanced up at Nicole, who was staring at my untouched cereal in front of me. I didn’t know how long it had sat there, but it was soggy now.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting really strange the last few days.”

I snorted because she was one to talk. Her face had been a little pale the last few days, and after our encounter the other night, she’d hardly said two words to me. It didn’t bother me since my mind was otherwise preoccupied, but I did wonder why our friendship had become so tense.

“I’m okay.” I gave her a weak smile as I stood and scraped the contents of my bowl into the garbage. “I just have some family stuff going on.”

It was a lie, but I was sure she would believe it. She never shared anything too personal, and it worked for us. The last thing I wanted was someone asking questions about my family.

Her cell phone rang, and she frowned before hitting ignore. Something else she’d been doing a lot lately. My curiosity got the best of me as she walked back to the coffee maker, and a quick glance at the name surprised me.

Ryland was calling her, and the fact that she chose to ignore him made me wonder if there was something more going on between them. I tried to swallow the sudden bitterness that coated my tongue as I walked to my room.

I didn’t have any claim on him, of course. It was ridiculous for me to feel any jealousy at all. A man of his caliber would most certainly never date a girl like me, and even if he wanted to, I couldn’t. I had my blackmailer to deal with now, and it would be that way for the foreseeable future. I made myself a promise right then that I was going to stop thinking about Ryland Bennett.

Today was Thursday, which meant I had something more important to worry about. Something dark and terrifying waiting for me inside a hotel room. He had promised me punishment, and I didn’t doubt I would be receiving it. But what he planned to dish out, I had no clue.

Almost as if on cue, my cell phone chirped.

Send me a photo of one of the marks I left on you.

I swallowed as I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, my fingers tracing over the fading marks on my shoulder. Whenever I looked at his brands on my body over the last two days, something strange happened. Even now, my heart beat violently in my chest. My skin was hot and flushed, but I couldn’t understand why. I should have been furious. Repulsed. Disgusted.

Horrified. But I was none of those things.

His brand of kink was marking me in every possible way he could think of.

At first, I’d assumed it was a cruel way to remind me I belonged to him, but now his request made me think otherwise. He was the one who wanted the reminder.

I didn’t know this man. I had no idea what he looked like, other than that he was solid and strong. He was a complete stranger, and yet it seemed he knew my body intimately. As though he knew things about me that even I didn’t. Things I would like. Things that I shouldn’t.

The thought was disturbing on a level I couldn’t even process. But once I’d gotten over my shame in that hotel room, I realized something. Shame couldn’t have a place inside of me if there wasn’t a part of me that had enjoyed it. Enjoyed the terrible things he did to me. What kind of person did that make me?

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath, and the phone chimed again.

Don’t make me ask twice, Brighton.

I snatched it up with a glare and turned on the camera, angling it towards my shoulder. No way was I sending him the one he’d left on my inner thigh.

I sent the text through and tossed the phone on my bed, resolved not to think about it for the rest of the day.

When I walked to my closet, I chose an outfit that reflected my mood.

Black. The dress was a size too large and sort of resembled a paper bag. It had cost me five dollars on a bargain rack three years ago, and it had well and truly seen better days. But I took pleasure in wearing the most unappealing thing I owned. He didn’t deserve my primping.

Which led me to my makeup and hair decisions. I rarely wore much makeup anyway, but today I opted for only the bare minimum of mascara.

My hair was thrown into a messy bun, and I removed my necklace and

earrings. I wanted him to know I wasn’t making an effort for him. He wanted control of my body? Fine. But he didn’t control how much time I spent on my appearance.

I held my head high as I walked out the door and left for work. The more distant and cold I could remain in this situation, the better. I’d even managed a smile as I stepped into the elevator. One of my co-workers could barely hide her disdain at my clothing choice. It was all very humorous until I got to my desk.

A blank envelope waited for me. It was your typical run of the mill manila, but my stomach dipped at the lack of anything on the front of it. Sure enough, when I opened it up, I found a hotel key card along with a date and time. Seven o’ clock this evening.

I glanced around the office with red cheeks, wondering if anybody had seen who delivered this. But they were all milling around without any notice of me. Or at least that’s what I thought until I saw Matt.

His dark brown eyes met mine across the office, and they held a hint of concern. My gaze dropped, and a moment later, he was in front of me.

“Brighton, are you alright?”

He wrapped his large hands around my arms in a way that reminded me of Brayden. I had the sudden urge to hug him. To confess everything and beg him to help me. Only, he couldn’t, and I was being ridiculous.

“I’m okay.” I gave him a watery smile.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a sharp voice broke the tension. We both turned to see Ryland summoning him from his office with an icy smile.

Matt cursed under his breath as he released me and walked off. I hoped I would see him again at lunch because I could have used a good dose of his lighthearted humor. But he dashed those hopes when he told me he had to leave the office to work on a project.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at my desk, even working through my lunch break. It wasn’t until Ryland set a yogurt and a banana in front of me that I broke my trance.

“You need to eat, Miss Valentine.”

The warmth in his voice surprised me, but when I looked up into his eyes, I saw a hint of unease there. He was making it very difficult not to think about him when he continued to pay me little visits like these. Could he see through my act so clearly? It was odd considering he didn’t even remember

me. He wasn’t the type of man who would forget names or faces. The more I watched him, the more I knew that was true.

Even now, he was adjusting the stack of papers on my desk, lining them up with the edges. I doubted he even realized he was doing it. I stared at his fingers for far too long before I caught myself.

“Thank you, Mr. Bennett.” I smiled up at him.

“Please call me Ryland.” He leaned against my desk, scrutinizing me.

“Ryland,” I corrected. If only he knew that’s what I’d been calling him all along… inside of my head.

“Stacey told me you hadn’t eaten lunch,” he explained. “I hope she’s not working you too hard.”

Just the mention of Stacey had my muscles tensing. Thank God she’d eased up on me over the last week. I wouldn’t have been able to handle her on top of everything else.

“Of course not,” I replied. “I just wasn’t that hungry today.”

“Well, you should eat,” he encouraged. “And take a break. I don’t want people to start thinking I’m a slave driver.”

There was a hint of a smile on his face now, and my heart did a little flip inside of my chest. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I was transported back to five years ago. I was on my back porch, completely under his spell.

And if he kept looking at me like that, then maybe he would kiss me too…

I bolted up out of my chair and nearly knocked over my paperclips again.

Ryland frowned.

“I’ll take my break now,” I blurted. “Thanks again for the food.”

Ryland nodded, but he didn’t leave. I wished he would. I couldn’t stand there with him looking at me that way. Making me feel things that were no good for me. And yet my eyes wandered over his body, imagining what it would be like to have his hands on me again. To feel their warmth and their strength, and to know I had invited them. That it wasn’t something I’d been coerced into doing. It was a fantasy I could entertain, if only briefly.

For once Suffering Stacey appeared at a good time, popping up with a mug of coffee for Ryland.

“Mr. Bennett, I have those files you requested.”

He didn’t take his eyes off me as he jerked his chin towards his office.

“Enjoy your lunch, Miss Valentine.” ***

I woke to his breath skating over my skin, his scent surrounding me as the heat of his body pressed against mine.

It wasn’t any particular cologne that I could narrow down. It was a simple, clean scent. A faint hint of soap and laundry detergent. I wondered if that was intentional so I couldn’t identify him later.

The blindfold was on, but judging by my sleepiness, he was late. Very late.

I must have been asleep for at least a couple of hours. He didn’t speak as I came to, he simply continued to worship my body with his lips.

Admittedly, it felt good. I’d been between the clutches of a dream and reality when I finally woke. Only, it was Ryland’s face in my dream, hovering over me as he kissed every inch of my skin. Traces of cinnamon and amber bathing my body everywhere he touched. I wanted it to be him.

Oh God, how I wanted it to be him.

“Brighton,” he groaned.

It was such a simple word. Just my name on his lips. But the way he said it was different from every other word I’d heard him say so far. His voice was always tight, in control. But when he said my name, he lost that control.

His hands trailed up the delicate skin of my rib cage, and I shivered beneath them. How had he managed to take my clothes off without me feeling it?

“Where’s my dress?” I asked.

He didn’t like my question. His hand tangled in my hair as he brought his lips to my ear.

“Clever girl. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? That dress, as you call it, was cut off the moment I stepped in here.”

“Cut off?” I repeated, my voice trembling.

“That’s what I said,” he hummed. “You are a very beautiful girl, Brighton, and I like to look at you. But do I need to put something as simple as pride in your appearance in the agreement as well?”

Whether it was his intention or not, his words actually hurt me. I grew up being treated like trash, and anyone who saw the way we lived would have agreed. But I didn’t like to think it was true.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t have a lot of nice things, but I’ll do better next time.”

“You have a lot to be sorry for today.” He nipped at my ear. “Are you ready to redeem yourself?”

My entire body stiffened beneath him. He said he would punish me, but a part of me had secretly hoped he’d forgotten while he explored my body.

I bit my lip and waited, but he simply pulled it free with his thumb and kissed me. It was soft and gentle. Hesitant even. With the blindfold on, I was so attuned to his every sound that I could hear the change in his breathing. Was it excitement, or duress? What I wouldn’t give to see his face now. To unlock this mystery.

“It won’t be so bad.” He reached forward and tugged a lock of my red hair.

“In fact, I think you may even enjoy it. I can tell there’s a little bit of darkness inside of you too, Brighton. Whether you like to admit it or not.”

His words were worse than a slap to the face. Was he insinuating I was like Norma-Jean?

“I’ve often wondered what your vices are,” he continued. “There has to be something. I didn’t believe the sweet and innocent act for a moment. Not until I was inside of you for the first time.”

He flipped me over on the bed during the middle of his little speech, positioning my body on all fours.

“But do you know what I realized that day, Brighton?” he asked. “I think you like to be hunted.”

His hands came down around my hips and squeezed the flesh of my ass.

“You like the rough way I treat you, don’t you? Like to be used as I see fit.”

I whimpered beneath him but didn’t respond. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter what punishment he wanted to dole out, I would never admit defeat to this twisted son of a bitch.

He let out an impatient sigh, followed by the distinctive sound of a belt buckle being tugged from his pants.

My legs shook, and I was finding it difficult to keep my composure.

Thinking I was strong was one thing, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t.

I’d grown up in a rough neighborhood, and I’d been bullied more times than I could count. I was forever being called scum and teased for my red hair. They were just words, but they hurt all the same. If it wasn’t the kids, it was Norma-Jean slapping me around. I thought those things had toughened me up, made my armor impenetrable. I was wrong. Because right now, I was terrified.

His fingers trailed along my spine, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shhh…” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the back of my neck. “It’s okay, baby girl. Just breathe for me.”

I took a couple deep breaths, and he kissed his way back down my spine, distracting me. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want him to be gentle or try to comfort me when he was playing these sick games.

“You have a beautiful back,” he murmured. “Every part of you is beautiful, but this…” He pressed his fingers into the dimples on my lower back and squeezed. “This was meant to be naked.”

Something else trailed along my skin then, and it wasn’t his fingers. It was soft, yet hard at the same time. Leather.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took another deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. I could do this. I could do this. I had to do this.

“Do you remember what I said in the agreement about your body?” he asked.

“How could I forget?”

A small sting spread across my skin when he tapped it with the belt. “I’m not playing games here, Brighton. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“You said my body belongs to you,” I snarled.

He laughed then, stroking his hands over my back again. He couldn’t seem to stop touching it.

“That attitude is going to get you nowhere,” he replied. “But nonetheless, it does amuse me that you still think you’re above admitting it. Am I not up to your standards, my little lotus flower? The high and mighty daughter of Frank Gallo thinks she is too good for me?”

There was clear venom in his words, and it was obvious he was taunting me. It had the intended effect.

“You think you know so much about me?” I spat. “You didn’t do your homework well enough because he was never anything more than a sperm donor. Now let’s get this over with.”

“Very well.” His voice was pure silk now. “I’m going to count to ten,” he explained. “And every time I strike you, I want you to repeat part four of our agreement, verbatim. Do you remember what that is, Brighton?”

“My body is yours to do with as you please,” I stated blandly.

“That’s it,” he praised me. “See, I knew you were a clever girl. But don’t stumble over the words or forget to say it, because if you do, that means we have to start over. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” I snapped.

I wasn’t prepared. I thought he was going to draw it out longer as he seemed to be relishing that idea today. So when the first strike sang down against my ass, his voice sounded like it was under water when he counted the first blow.

I reared up in surprise, and he pushed me right back down with a firm palm in the center of my back.

“Forgetting something?” he asked.

“My body is yours to do with as you please,” I panted.

“Good girl.”

It didn’t really hurt the first time. I learned that the second time when he hit me harder in a different place. It was more the shock of it than anything, but my natural instinct was to try to get away.

He swatted me harder still and grabbed my hips to pull me back into place.

“You’re making it harder than it has to be, Brighton,” he admonished. “Now we have to start over.”

I whimpered, but I learned my lesson. I clamped my jaw and curled my fingers into the bedspread if I needed to, but I never moved. And with every number he rattled off, I echoed his claim on my body. With every blow, my skin flooded with warmth, and my voice raised to a crescendo.

I was on fire, everywhere. My core ached, and even my breasts were heavy and full. I didn’t understand it. But somewhere along the way, the discomfort had subsided. I had transcended the pain and embraced a euphoric high I’d never even known existed.

It wasn’t until I heard myself moan that I realized the belt was long gone. In its place was him, thrusting into me so hard he sounded possessed. I was still screaming out part four of our agreement with every thrust. I couldn’t stop myself, and it was driving him out of his fucking mind.

His teeth scraped down along my spine, his fingers biting into my hips. He kept telling me how good I felt. How beautiful I was. How much he liked to degrade me. His voice was nothing but a husky whisper in my ear, his breath ragged in his chest. He fucked me like I was the only thing that mattered to him. The only thing that ever mattered. The exchange of power was intoxicating. I was in control now, and there was nothing that could stop my descent into oblivion.

Or so I thought.

I was on the verge of exploding when he stopped, making me whimper in frustration. My orgasm was the only thing I had to look forward to during

this exchange, and he was taking it away from me.

“Not yet.”

He was determined to show me who was in control here, and I was determined not to let it be him. But when his thumb started working against my clit, my body won out over my mind.

I bucked against him and cried out for my release when he stopped again.

“Please,” I begged, rocking my hips upward. I was so sensitive I didn’t think I would survive if he didn’t free me from this agony.

“You want to come?” he asked softly.

I didn’t reply. Because as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Cool air settled over my skin when he pulled away, and for a minute, I worried that he was going to punish me again. But after a few adjustments, the heat of his breath skated over my inner thighs. With the first lick, he had me on edge. Again. He teased me with the softest of touches before pulling away.

He flipped me onto my back and left me lying there, flushed and on the verge of a psychotic break. I never knew that I could want something so much, but I did. I was worse than Norma with her pills. What the hell was happening to me?

I wanted to scream. I fisted the covers in my hands when he pushed himself back inside of me. His lips were on mine a moment later, covered in my arousal, but I didn’t care. I kissed him back fiercely, punishing him the only way I could as I nipped at his lips and tugged on his hair. He thrived on my reaction, giving it back just as good as he got. His teeth pulled at my lip until I tasted blood, which he sucked into his mouth with a groan.

I sank my nails into his back, and he responded by wrapping his hand around my throat in warning. For some crazy reason, it was making me wet.

This vicious romp. The savagery of our connection. He had tapped into a part of my psyche that I didn’t know was there. The part of me that liked the pain and fucked up things he was doing to me.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against me. “Tell me who you wish was inside of you right now. Making you come.”

I froze at his request. He couldn’t honestly expect me to answer that.

His thumb found my clit again, so swollen and sensitive that tears leaked from my eyes. I needed my release, and he was intentionally torturing me.

It shouldn’t have surprised me. He was the worst kind of evil. A predator,

and probably a sadist too. I knew this, and yet I kept forgetting whenever he touched me.

“Tell me,” he urged, nipping my ear as I bucked against him.

His cock glided in and out of me with agonizing gentleness while his hands explored my body. Somewhere along the line, he had gained back control, and he was intent on proving it.

“It’s a simple request,” he insisted. “A name, Brighton. There must be someone.”

I shook when he bottomed out inside of me, taking me to the brink of destruction once more.

“Please,” I rasped. “Please, just let me…”

“A name.” He captured my lip between his teeth. “I need a name. Then you can come as many times as you like.”

He kissed his way down to my nipple and flicked it with his tongue. My eyes rolled back as I melted into the bed.

“Ryland!” I screamed. “Ryland Bennett.”

He grunted and slammed into me so hard I thought I might break. His teeth sank into my neck, causing a cataclysm of pain and release. It was cathartic.

Poetic. Beautiful. The demon inside of me smiled in satisfaction when my scream echoed off the walls.

I’d barely finished when he let loose a vicious string of curses, his cock pulsing wildly as he emptied himself inside of me.

He collapsed on top of me, his legs still tangled in mine, his breath ragged. I expected him to say something once his breathing had calmed, but he didn’t.

Not a word about my mortifying confession, or anything else. I wondered if he was angry. Would he hurt Ryland? The thought crossed my mind. I had no idea what his motives were. It was one thing to mess with me, but if he involved innocent people, I wouldn’t be able to cope.

“What are you going to do?” I whispered.

“What do you mean?” his voice was soft. Relaxed. And he was still inside me.

“About what I told you,” I said. “You won’t… do anything to him, right?”

“Would you care if I did?”

“Of course I would.” I quivered. “You can’t drag other people into this.

That wasn’t part of the agreement…”

“I know.” He toyed with my lip. “I’m not going to do anything, Brighton.

There are very few things I don’t know about you. That was one of them.”

“Oh.” I really didn’t know what to say to that. What we were doing was already so intimate. And yet he wanted to get into my psyche, uncover my darkest secrets. But why? It was unfair. I didn’t know anything about him at all.

He went to move away, and I pulled him back, gripping his forearm.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Please what?” his voice was colder now. More distant. But I wasn’t going to let it scare me. I wouldn’t let him win this game. I needed to figure out who he was, by any means possible.

“I don’t even know what you look like,” I said.

“You didn’t want to,” he retorted. “That’s the thing about actions and words. Once they are said and done, they can’t be taken back.”

“Just let me… touch you,” I pleaded. “Let me see you in the only way that I can.”

There was such a long pause, I wondered if I’d made a mistake by requesting such a thing. But then he rolled over, taking me with him. When he relaxed, I was straddling him, and my palms were flat against his shoulders.

“By all means,” he bit out, “touch me, Brighton. But don’t think you’re fooling me for a second.”

I swallowed the strange lump that had formed in my throat and started with his hands. They were much bigger than mine, and I had the sudden realization of how much he could hurt me with those hands if he ever wanted to.

I tried not to think about it as I felt my way down his forearms and up his biceps. Right away, I concluded these were the arms of a working man.

Either that or someone who spent a lot of time in the gym. He was warm and hard everywhere I touched, even in his relaxed state. But that changed when my hands glided over his chest. It wasn’t just muscle there, it was something else too. I ran my fingers over the jagged skin several times before I understood they were scars. And when I touched them, his entire body stiffened.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“That’s enough.” He slid out from beneath me and pulled away.

I landed in an unceremonious heap on the bed, expecting him to leave. There was a familiar shuffling as he dressed himself. And when he clasped his belt buckle back into place, it had the strangest effect inside of my belly. Warmth.

That warmth was swiftly carried away when he wrapped something rough around my wrist.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He didn’t respond. He simply pulled whatever it was taut before walking to the other side of the bed, repeating the action on my other wrist. By the time he was through, both my arms were strung high above my head. I couldn’t move them at all when he stepped away, and my skin prickled with sweat.

“Do you remember when I asked you earlier if you were ready to be redeemed?”

“Yes.” I gulped.

“Well guess what, Brighton?” he snarled. “There isn’t anything you could ever do to be redeemable in my eyes.”

It was the last thing he said before he walked out of the room.

Chapter Nine

I woke with puffy eyes and a splitting headache.

Every inch of my body groaned in protest when I tried to move. My arms were so weak I thought they were numb. That could be the only reason I didn’t feel the awful pain in my shoulders and wrists.

All night I had struggled to get free. My wrists were chafed and probably bloody from the rope he used to tie me. I was humiliated and terrified. I was certain he was going to leave me for the hotel staff to find in the morning.

But when I moved my arm again and nothing protested, I sat up slowly. The blindfold was still on, and I tore it off, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness of the room. The clothes I’d worn to the hotel weren’t there, but on the table across the room sat some shopping bags and a silver tray.

I limped across the carpet, feeling the discomfort in every step. I’d never been so sore.

When I reached the table, I found a note.

Brighton, You looked too beautiful to wake this morning, but I would like another photo today.

Oh, and don’t make any plans for next weekend. You’ll be spending it all with me.

The paper fluttered from my fingers as I collapsed into the chair with a groan. I could barely walk after one night with him, and now he wanted an entire weekend. And how could he call me beautiful when he’d just left me tied to the bed last night after his cruel parting words? I didn’t understand it at all.

If he thought he was getting another photo of his marks on me, he was crazy.

I lifted the silver lid and found an assortment of cold breakfast foods. Fruit, granola, and a yogurt adorned the tray, and my stomach growled in response. I hadn’t eaten dinner last night.

I ate it all, more ravenous than I’d ever been. The whole time I was chewing, my eyes kept darting to the shopping bags. They had the name Barneys imprinted on the side, and my fingers were itching to see what was inside of them.

But they shouldn’t have been. Was he buying me clothes now?

I snorted at the thought. It was probably something much more sinister, disguised in a nice package. I laid my curiosity to rest as I dumped all the contents onto the table.

Dresses. Lingerie. Shoes.

It was all there. And it must have cost a fortune. I was disgusted, and yet the little girl inside of me who had always loved fashion wanted to be excited.

When I checked the soles of the shoes, they were red.

Red. It could only mean one thing. I was going color blind.

How could he spend this much money on me when he insisted I was just something to be used? Unredeemable, as he said last night. Did he actually… feel sorry?

No. Absolutely not. I wasn’t going to make excuses for him or his erratic behavior. There was only one person who could answer those questions, and that was a trained psychologist.

As for me, I just had to get through the rest of this game. Five months and three more weeks.

I sighed as I walked to the bathroom to take a shower. At least I would be blackmailed in red bottomed shoes. That obviously made all the difference. *** I sent him a picture.

I wasn’t proud of it, but after seeing how much he’d spent on me, the guilt ate away at me. It always did whenever someone did anything remotely nice. I didn’t like to depend on anyone or feel like I owed them. It was the one rule my mother had drilled into our heads. I would never forget the time I borrowed a cup of sugar from the neighbor and the ass beating that ensued from it.

Norma-Jean spat her stale cigarette breath in my face when she told me I was never to borrow anything from anyone. Either I could afford it on my own, or I didn’t have it at all. The irony wasn’t lost on me that she never

made rent and relied on Brayden to keep a roof over our heads. But in the mind of Norma-Jean, that was perfectly acceptable.

Needless to say, I’d heeded her rule from there on out. I looked at things but never bought them. I worked but never allowed myself luxuries. Every penny went to necessities, and the rest went into my savings. Even now if I bought myself something that cost more than twenty dollars, I would usually end up returning it.

So walking into work wearing a casual Valentino dress, I thought for a moment I was going to be sick. The same girl that had snickered at me the day before was in the elevator, and now she was openly glaring. I kept my eyes on the shiny metal until the doors opened and I sprang free.

When I got to my desk, there was something waiting for me. A single blood red lotus.

I glanced around again, but nobody was paying any attention. How the hell was he delivering things to my desk without somebody noticing? A better question was, how did he even getting into the building?

The answer popped into my mind and quickly expanded into all-consuming terror. Did he work here too?

Matt chose that moment to walk over and say hello, and I eyed him suspiciously. Was it possible he could be…

No. It definitely wasn’t Matt.

But then someone else popped into my head. Someone that made much more sense when I thought about it. If I was being logical and didn’t believe in coincidence, then there was someone else. A real possibility…

But that just sounded like more of my brain’s twisted way of thinking. I stopped myself right there. I was seriously going crazy, and I needed to stop. I needed to put my blackmailer out of mind. So that’s what I did. Until later that afternoon. *** My job at the Bennett Corporation consisted of work I could do in my sleep. I didn’t have to focus too much because it was all repetitive, monotonous busy work. This had its pros and cons.

My mind kept drifting back to my blackmailer. Sadist. Whatever the hell he was. I’d only been playing his game for a week, and I was already losing…

bad. So far, he’d seen my every play before I even made it. Knew my motives for wanting to touch him. For wearing awful clothing to meet him.

He could even see that some sick and depraved part of me liked the things he was doing to me. I needed to gain back my control, and I needed to do it fast.

Six months wasn’t a life sentence by any means, but every day that passed by on the calendar still felt like too much. I couldn’t stop imagining Brayden sitting in his cell, depressed and alone.

Now that there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel, six months may as well have been an eternity. But if there was something I could do to speed the process up, then, by all means, I would do it. So I thought about bartering chips, of which it turned out I had none. Or at least that’s what I thought. But then my big head got this idea in it. This crazy idea that if I could convince my captor that I was truly invested in our time together, that perhaps he would be lenient.

It wasn’t a great plan if I was being honest. Brayden always told me I was the worst liar ever. He said I was too nice to be convincing, and the guilt always showed on my face. It was true.

But what did I have to be guilty for in this situation? I’d done nothing wrong. And after seeing the evidence, I realized Brayden hadn’t either. So who was the real monster here?

There was something my blackmailer said that rang true. My bloodline was tainted with darkness. And yet my whole life, I’d let everybody push me around. Always worried about offending them. Of letting them think I was like Norma. Or even worse, Frankie.

But maybe in this game, I needed to be more like them for a change. I needed to channel the darkness that ran through my veins and embrace it.

To play this game better than this man ever could have predicted. After all, I’d only been with him twice, and already I could see his weakness.

His weakness was me.

Chapter Ten

When lunch time rolled around, I stopped by Nicole’s office to see if she wanted to grab a bite with me. She’d been distant the last few days, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my welcome in her apartment.

We’d agreed I could stay for a couple months until I found my own place, but maybe that had changed. Either way, whatever was bothering her, I wanted her to know she could talk to me.

As I was about to duck into her office, I saw she was on the phone. The door was cracked, and she couldn’t see me. I wasn’t sure if I should wait or go on in, but as her words drifted into the hallway, I couldn’t help but listen.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she hissed. “You never told me how far you were going to go.”

She clamped her mouth shut and rubbed her temples as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

“Of course I want that, but it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would. I know he wouldn’t have wanted this…”

Her words drifted off as a strong pair of hands gripped my shoulders from behind, and I let out a squeal of surprise.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

I spun around and smacked Matt in the chest, embarrassed I’d been caught out. I gestured to the break room, and we started walking.

“I’m worried about Nicole,” I said defensively.

Matt frowned and shook his head. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Just that you’re a lamb amongst wolves here, and I think you need to be careful who you associate with.”

“Is there something you think I should know Matt?”

Stacey chose that moment to walk into the break room, eyeing us both accusingly.

“I need to get back to work,” Matt said gruffly. “I’ll see you around, Brighton.” ***

“You’re going to be away the whole weekend?” Nicole frowned.

“Yep.” I mustered up my best fake smile. “But before I go, I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” she pulled a coconut water from the fridge and perched on the bar stool across from me.

“I wanted to ask if there was anything bothering you,” I said. “Or if I’m overstaying my welcome.”

Hurt flashed through her eyes, and she shook her head. “Of course not, Brighton. I love having you here. This apartment is too big for me anyway, so I’d like it if you’d consider staying here. There’s no need for you to find your own place unless you really want to.”

“Of course I’d like to stay,” I said. “But I wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing anything to upset you. You’ve seemed a little off lately.”

“Oh.” She pouted her lips. “It’s nothing to do with you, I swear. Just work stuff.”

“Does it have anything to do with Ryland?”

She jerked her eyes towards mine in surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I noticed he calls you a lot outside of work.”

Nicole let out a shaky laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. We just have a ton of projects we’re working on at the moment.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Well, I better get going.”

Nicole gave me a weak smile before I walked out the door. Time to see what I was made of.

Chapter Eleven

When I stepped into the hotel room, I had to cover my mouth to keep from screaming. A strange man sat at the table, his hands folded across his lap as he read from a newspaper. I had no idea who he was, but when he glanced at me, I knew he wasn’t my blackmailer. He was older, with fuzzy wisps of white hair and a wiry frame. He had to have been in his sixties, and judging by his pale blue eyes, he was no threat to me.

“Sorry to scare you, Miss Valentine.” He stood up and smoothed out his black suit. “My name is Ted, and I’m here to drive you.”

“Drive me where?”

“My boss informed me that you are to stay the weekend with him.” He crinkled his brows together. “He said it was already arranged between you two, and you would understand.”

“Oh.” Of course, I understood what he meant. Either I went with this strange man to an unknown destination, or Brayden’s evidence would disappear.

This was our agreement, but the thought of being somewhere else out of my control was a bit daunting. At least in the hotel, I could scream if I needed to. But at the end of the day, what choice did I have? If I wanted to see Brayden released, this is what I had to do. I’d spent the entire day trying to figure out how to gain my blackmailer’s trust, and I wasn’t about to back down now.

“Alright,” I relented. “I guess I’m ready then.”

I walked towards the door, and Ted followed, rushing to open it for me. We stepped into the elevator and silence engulfed us. I caught him giving me a curious look, and I shifted uncomfortably. I wondered how often he did this sort of thing for his employer, or what exactly he knew of our agreement.

He was all business as he escorted me through the parking garage to a shiny black car. Belatedly, I tried to get a glimpse of the license plate, but Ted caught me. He opened the door and cleared his throat, holding out a simple black blindfold in his hand.

“My employer said you understood this is required as well.”

Ted looked more uncomfortable with the idea than I was as I reached out and took the material. If only I’d had the courage to look into my blackmailer’s eyes that first day, I wouldn’t have to keep up these childish pretenses. I wanted to know who this man was. I wanted to know everything about him. And I wasn’t entirely sure anymore if it was because of what he was doing, or the warring feelings inside of me.

I sat down on the soft leather seat and buckled myself in before placing the fabric over my eyes. Only once it was secured did Ted begin to drive.

It was stupid, but the temptation to pry information out of him was too strong. Ted looked harmless, but would he tell on me if I said something I wasn’t supposed to?

I took a chance and hoped for the best.

“So you know about the game then?” I asked.

Ted didn’t reply right away. He cleared his throat and answered me in a soft voice.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m not certain I know what you’re talking about.”

“Your employer,” I clarified. “You’re aware of our agreement?”

“I’m really not supposed to be talking to you…” he said. “He requested that I didn’t. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

A hollow laugh echoed from my chest as I sank back into the seat and crossed my arms. So much for that idea.

The car filled with silence again, and I thought that was going to be the end of it. So I was surprised when Ted spoke again a few minutes later.

“I don’t know about my employer’s proclivities,” he stated. “Nor do I want to. I’ve known him since he was a boy, and I trust his judgement in all matters. He’s a good man.”

His words were defensive, which showed me he cared for my blackmailer.

It was an unexpected development, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

I tapped my finger against my thigh while we drove, wishing we’d get there soon. But Ted wasn’t done yet. For someone who wasn’t supposed to talk to me, he had a lot to say.

“He seems different lately,” he noted. “I think he likes you very much. It’s nice to see him smiling again.”

Oh, poor Ted. Little did he know.

“Thanks, Ted,” I answered politely. “But would you mind putting on some music now? I’d like to relax before we get there.”

Ted didn’t refuse me. He switched on some classical music and hummed along as he drove. It was a long drive, much longer than I’d anticipated, and soon the melody had put me to sleep. It wasn’t until the car crunched over gravel that I woke.

The car came to a halt, and my door opened a moment later. But it wasn’t Ted’s hand that pulled me out. No, that was the hand of a man who was all too familiar with my body. He didn’t say a word as he led me from the car, guiding me into what I assumed was his house.

I couldn’t see anything through the cloth, but by the way my heels clicked against the floor, I could tell it must be expensive. Some kind of hardwood, I thought. Next was a staircase, with at least two levels. I clung to the banister even though he had his hand around my waist the entire way up.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Every sound echoed off the walls around us as he led me down another corridor. A door opened, and he ushered me inside. My heels sank into the softness of carpet as he pulled me into his arms.

“It’s good to see you inside of my home,” he murmured. “I’ve wondered what it would be like to have you here.”

“And?” I asked nervously. “What’s the verdict?”

His fingers grazed my face, warming my skin while he reacquainted himself. My body reacted to him before my mind could stop it, and I turned into his hand, conflicted by how good it felt.

“You make it tolerable.” He tugged at the zipper of my dress and pushed it off my shoulders as he walked me backwards.

My panties and bra came off next, followed by the clip in my hair. He helped me to kneel down on something soft and pulled off my heels, massaging each instep as he went. I bit my lip and held back a groan, wondering how something so simple could affect me so much. But then something metal wrapped around my wrist and clicked into place, and the world around me went still.

I tried to jerk my other hand away before he fastened it, but he held me until the mechanism clicked into place. The skin on my wrists was still sensitive, and I didn’t dare try to pull on the restraints. But I knew instinctively they were handcuffs.

“Why?” my lip trembled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t,” he agreed, smoothing the hair away from my face. “But I want to play with you tonight.”

His voice was pure silk, and it calmed me a little to know he wasn’t angry. I had no idea what he meant by play, but when I heard his zipper, followed by the velvety softness of his cock against my lips, I had a pretty good indication.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That’s good.” He released a breath as he stroked my hair with his palm.

He nudged his swollen head against my lips, smearing my lipstick with a light groan. I parted my lips on instinct, the darkness inside of me eager to please him. It was a terrifying sensation, and I had no idea where it had come from. I wasn’t here to please him. I was here to do as was requested of me until my time was up. To play the game I so carefully constructed in my mind. But in order to do that, I had to shield myself from any real emotions towards this man.

He pushed past the barrier of my lips, gliding inside of my mouth much easier than I expected. His skin was soft and musky against my tongue, and I fumbled around the enormity of his size when he edged towards the back of my throat.

It occurred to me I had no idea what I was doing, and panic seized me as I gasped for air. Without the use of my hands, I was at the mercy of his.

“Shhh.” He stroked my face with his fingers. “It’s okay Brighton, just relax and trust me to guide you.”

Trust him. Such a simple request, but it nearly brought me to tears. Trust was a hard thing for me to give in the best of circumstances, let alone to a complete stranger.

I breathed through my nose and formed a suction around him with my mouth, trying my best to work him the way I thought I was meant to. I figured if I did it right, he wouldn’t need to choke me or make me gasp for air for any reason. But I was wrong.

The harder I worked him, the more ragged his breathing became. His hips pivoted forward into my mouth while his hands tangled in my hair. He was completely lost in the feeling, and he told me as much between breaths.

Because of me, and what I was doing. I felt that potent rush again. I wanted to bring him to his knees. To show him how powerful I could be as I kneeled before him with my mouth around his cock.

I sucked him all the way to the back of my throat, ignoring my gag reflex and the instinct to pull away. He grunted and wrapped one of his hands

around my throat as he rocked forward with his pelvis.

And that’s when I felt it, the enormity of my power. He twitched and convulsed and exploded inside of my mouth with a loud roar. Hot liquid spilled across my tongue as he jerked in my mouth, the saltiness of his semen a completely foreign taste for me. I swallowed it quickly, and only once it was all gone did he allow me some air.

He released another torrent of curses beneath his breath as he padded away from me. I smiled to myself, hoping that I’d somehow defeated him. That I’d surprised him and brought him to his knees like I’d intended.

When he came back several minutes later, he gave me a drink of water, for which I was grateful. But I nearly choked on it as soon as he spoke.

“I want to hurt you,” he said calmly. So calmly, I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.

On instinct, I jerked on the handcuffs holding me in place and tried to shake off my blindfold.

“Relax.” He smoothed his fingers over my lips. “It’s not what you think.”

A thousand images of knives and blood and other torture devices invaded my mind as I tried to understand what he was saying. But before I could even form the words to ask, he continued on, his voice more aroused than I’d ever heard it.

“Your purity,” he rasped. “I never could have known how addicting it would be. I want to see how far I can take you. How much you will let me do with you.”

“But why?” I whispered.

“I can’t explain why,” he said unapologetically. “It’s just what I want. I want to fuck your ass and taste your tears while I do it.”

The way he spoke was so depraved, I should have been demanding that he release me at once. But I wasn’t sure if it was the challenge in his voice or some baser part of myself that had me hesitating. I wanted to prove him wrong. To show him how strong I was. To play the game, I reminded myself.

“What will you do to me?” I asked.

He ran a hand down my back and over my hip, and my entire body shuddered beneath him.

“I don’t know yet,” he answered. “Whatever I feel like doing at the moment.”

“And if I tell you to stop?”

“Then I would stop.”

“And the agreement?”

“Would not be affected,” he said.

I clenched and unclenched my hands several times, unsure whether this was something I could really go through with. At first, I thought I was considering it strictly because of my hidden motivations. But the more that I thought about it, the unknown possibilities… the more my body reacted.

Was it possible that I actually wanted the pain like he said? That I craved it?

“Okay,” I whispered before I could change my mind.

A rush of air escaped his lips as he pulled my face upwards and greeted me with a brutal kiss. His breath was sweet against mine, tasting of mint and a faint hint of Whiskey.

“That’s my good girl.” *** My ass clenched as he shoved the plug deeper. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making a noise. I didn’t want him to know how difficult this was for me. How scary.

He twisted the cool metal around inside of me, sending waves of foreign sensations throughout my core. Everything was amplified in this forbidden place, more intense. After the initial bite of pain, liquid heat flooded my body. Somewhere during the process, I had arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

His fingers feathered along my back, warming my already sensitive skin. It was the barest of touches, and yet it threatened to send me over the edge.

My skin prickled and my nipples tightened when he twisted the plug again, effectively pulling it free. He replaced it with the head of his cock, and I grunted when he began to push inside.

The plug was one thing, but he was much bigger, and now I was stretched to my limit. There was a burning sensation as he invaded the tight channel, and it took every ounce of my will not to make a sound.

“Goddammit,” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking you this way so many times. But nothing compares to the real thing.”

The rapturous tone of his voice continued to surprise me. That I could affect someone this way. I didn’t understand it, and I was certain I never would.

But right or wrong, it was hard not to let it get to me. Knowing I could drive

someone to this level of crazy. To make him resort to these methods just to be inside of me. It only propelled my need to win this game even further.

He started to move, sliding in and out of me and igniting a dormant furnace inside of my belly. The sounds were flowing freely from my mouth now, and there was no stopping them. He’d reduced me to nothing more than an animal as he gripped my hips and plunged deep inside of me, his pelvis slapping against my ass cheeks.

“Do you like that?” he grunted.

I whimpered but didn’t respond.

He leaned forward and cocooned his body around mine, baring his teeth against the soft part of my throat. He dragged them along the skin and clamped down, making me buck against him as pleasure and pain warred inside of me.

He soothed the sting of his bite with a kiss and then moved his lips to my ear.

“I like to take it out on you.”

His words jolted me into a state of violent convulsions as I exploded around him, held up only by his arm around my waist. When I thought he’d squeezed every last ounce of pleasure from my body, he started to thrust harder.

“Nooooooooo,” I begged when his hand found my clit. “I can’t.”

He didn’t listen. I sobbed when the pressure stirred inside of me again. It was too much. It was too little. I was going crazy while he toyed with me.

Blood roared in my ears and spots flashed in my vision. I knew it was coming. I didn’t know if I would survive it.

When the first piece of leather cracked across my back, I knew I wouldn’t.

The onslaught of pain and the intensity of my second orgasm made everything else around me cease to exist. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but nothing came out. I was certain he’d just flayed me wide open and poured gasoline into the wound. I was still spasming beneath him, but I couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or pain. They were one and the same now.

It took me a full minute to realize that I was gasping for breath, but no sound escaped my lungs. When the second piece of leather sang through the air and exploded against my skin, I jerked on my restraints and fell forward.

This time, there was enough air in my lungs to force a guttural sound from

deep inside of me. It vibrated through every corner of the room, and it was so feral I couldn’t believe it had come from me.

Undiluted pain invaded every cell of my body as he struck me twice more.

When the endorphins finally rushed into my blood stream, a ravenous hunger for more uncoiled from deep inside of me.

He struck me again and again, propelling me into another dimension. This was worse than a coke binge. Worse than black tar or the thrill of E. This was the devil himself snaking his way inside of my heart and bending me to his will. This was addiction, quickly morphing into obsession. And somewhere in the clouded fog that was my brain, I knew this was a game I was going to lose.

It went on forever. And even when he had bottomed out inside of me and filled me with his release, I didn’t want him to stop. I sagged towards the floor like a limp noodle, and he panted against my back. His heart beat savagely against my skin, echoing my own.

I was vaguely aware of a sting, but when he peeled himself off me, I crashed and burned. The high I had experienced only moments before disappeared as pain licked along my nerves like fire.

I hissed in a breath, and my captor leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“I wanted to break you, Brighton. I never expected you to like it.”

A sob escaped me, and the dam broke. I didn’t know why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop. What was happening to me? What had he turned me into?

And why did it always feel like he was punishing me?

He released the restraints around my wrists and pulled me into his arms. He held me against his chest and rocked me back and forth as if I were a small child. I didn’t fight him. I should have. But he was the only source of comfort I had, and I clung to it instead.

He kissed my tears away and whispered sweet words into my ears. Words he was too afraid to say out loud. He told me I was beautiful. That I was perfect in every way. And that, unconditionally, I was his.

Chapter Twelve

I tried to roll away from the heat penetrating my sore skin, but an arm wrapped around my waist, pinning me in place. I was still wearing the blindfold, and I wanted to tear it from my eyes.

He was cuddling me after what he’d done.

As if he cared about me at all. What a joke.

I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him like he had hurt me. I flopped onto my side, trying unsuccessfully to rip the blindfold away as I battered his chest with my fist.

“Brighton…” his voice was soft and calm, as though he’d anticipated this behavior.

I didn’t want him to be calm when I was so angry. But I was too weak, and it was no use. He wouldn’t budge as he wrapped his arms around me like a vice, taking the punishment I had to give him without so much as a sound.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” I wailed.

He pulled my head into the crook of his neck and rested it against his warm skin as he stroked my hair in a soothing rhythm.

“I think we both know it’s far too late for that,” he said softly. “We couldn’t stop now if we tried, baby girl.”

I made a noise in my throat somewhere between acceptance and denial.

“I don’t know what will happen when your six months are up,” he continued. “Even then, I might not be able to let you go.” *** I’d never slept on silk sheets before because they were a luxury I could never afford.

But when I woke again, I was certain that’s what I was lying on. The cool material soothed my sore muscles, but it didn’t stop me from crying out when I rolled onto my back. It still felt like hell fire had rained down on me, and I quickly flailed back onto my stomach.

My tormentor’s voice whispered softly in my ear as his hand trailed up my spine, attempting to soothe me.

“Shh, Brighton. It’s okay.”

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t okay. That none of this was okay. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to what he’d asked of me the night before. As though we were lovers and I would do anything to please him. There was something wrong with me. Clearly, I was insane.

This man was breaking down my defenses little by little, and I was nothing more than a fly trapped in his web. I didn’t want to like him. I didn’t want to feel anything when he touched me. But even now, my traitorous body was melting beneath his touch.

He squeezed something cool on my back, and I hissed in a breath as he rubbed it around.

“It’s aloe,” he explained. “It will help with the pain.”

Admittedly, the cold gel soothed my burning skin, and I didn’t protest. But when his hand moved down between my legs, I whimpered. I was still swollen and sensitive from the night before, and the last thing I wanted was to have sex.

“Last night was about me.” His fingers slid inside of me. “But today is about you.”

I hid my face in the sheets so he couldn’t see my warring emotions. I couldn’t even articulate what I was feeling at this point, but whatever it was it felt private.

My body relaxed as his fingers glided in and out of me in a slow and calculated pattern. It didn’t take me long at all until I rode the waves of pleasure all the way to the crest. When I burst around his fingers, so did my resolve, and with it came more unexpected tears.

My tormentor showed no surprise as he pulled me into his arms and held me steadfast. We sat in silence for a long time while he massaged whatever part of skin was within his reach. I felt so small and fragile that a part of me enjoyed it. The part of me that had been neglected and starved for human affection my entire life. But on the other hand, he was still the man who was forcing me to do this. I was disgusted with myself for allowing him to comfort me. I needed to get away. I needed some room to breathe, so I said the only thing I could think of at the moment.

“Can I take a shower?” I asked. “Alone?”

He stiffened beneath me, and I was certain that I’d offended or irritated him, but I was long past caring. A moment later, he stood up and helped me to the bathroom.

Before he left, his fingers feathered over the marks on my back, touching each one until he was satisfied.

“You belong to me now, Brighton.”

And with that, he disappeared behind the click of the door, leaving cool air to creep over my body in his absence. When I removed the blindfold and turned to check my wounds in the mirror, I was surprised to see they were just reddish bruises. I was certain he’d broken the skin, but he hadn’t.

What was more surprising was the pattern of the bruises. The longer I looked at them, the clearer they became. The shape of two initials.

JL He’d marked me as his. Claimed me.

I wracked my brain for what those initials stood for. For anyone I might know that could be a match, but I came up empty. No matter how many possibilities I conjured up, I could never get this scenario to make sense. To understand who this man was. I figured this must have something to do with Brayden, but then again, maybe not. With the exception of a middleaged father, all the people who could have sought revenge against him were dead. But that last initial haunted me. It was too similar to be coincidence, wasn’t it? Or was I overthinking it? Was it just a stranger I’d never noticed before? Whoever it was, he’d been watching me a long time.

I turned on the shower and tested the water to make sure it was lukewarm before stepping inside. I was careful to avoid my back as I washed and lathered my entire body. The soap was an exotic looking bottle with a French name and a lavender infusion. Expensive from what I gathered. As was the shower, now that I deemed to notice. There were dual showerheads and a sunken floor surrounded by natural stone tiles. It looked as if it belonged in an old castle which made me curious about where I was or whose house I was in.

The wheels turned in my brain, wondering if I’d get a chance to explore more of the place sans blindfold. It wasn’t likely, but I would bide my time if I had to. It was early on in the agreement, so I still had plenty of time to figure this mystery out.

A knock on the door startled me as I was drying off, and I realized I’d been in the bathroom for a long time. Probably pushing the limits, I supposed.

“I have some breakfast for you,” his voice called through the door. “Do you have the blindfold on?”

For a moment, I considered lying and telling him I did. But then I thought of Brayden and what would happen to him if I didn’t play along. I slipped the cloth over my eyes and wrapped the large towel around my body.

“Yes,” I answered solemnly.

The energy in the room changed when he walked into it. There was an aura of power that rolled off of him, even though I couldn’t see it. I could feel it, though, in the way he took up space. The way he handled my body and spoke without apology about his wants or needs.

Perhaps it was that power which attracted me on some small level. It was the same trait that had attracted me to Ryland Bennett when he darkened my porch five years ago. His confidence was unwavering. A man who knew what he wanted with a certainty he would have it too. At the time, I thought that was me. It didn’t make much sense then, and now it made even less.

A warm and solid hand cupped my shoulder as another wrapped around my waist, guiding me back into the other room. This time, he pulled me into his lap in what I presumed to be an oversized chair. The soft velvet rubbed against my thigh, combined with the ever-present heat of my tormentor’s body beneath me.

Something cool brushed against my lips, and instinctively I darted my tongue out to catch the liquid before it dripped down my chin. The sweet taste of melon burst across my taste buds, followed by a soft chuckle beneath me.

“Open your mouth,” he urged.

I parted my lips awkwardly and pulled the melon ball from the fork with my teeth. Nobody had ever fed me before, and it was strange to be allowing it now.

The process continued with forkfuls of eggs, toast, and crispy bacon, which I ate eagerly. I hadn’t known how hungry I was until the food was in front of me.

When I finished, he moved me back to the bed to rest. I insisted I wasn’t tired. But when his mouth found its way between my thighs and gave me a mind blowing orgasm, my body quickly changed its mind.

And so the rest of the day was spent much of the same. My companion fed and caressed me, occasionally stopping to lavish my breasts with his full attention. This almost always led to more of his attention between my legs as well, and by the end of the day, I’d counted five orgasms. I never even thought such a thing was possible, but now I could say definitively it was.

When darkness fell around us, he pulled me into his arms and rested my face in the space between his shoulder and his neck. As sleep pulled me under, I thought I caught the faintest hint of Amber and Cinnamon. I was so certain I was dreaming that I disregarded it completely.

Chapter Thirteen

I was a different person when I stepped off of the elevator on Monday morning. I was so sure it was written all over my face that I’d spent the entire weekend having sex and everybody else would be able to see it too.

Of course, they didn’t.

The only one who gave me a funny look was Matt. When his eyes drifted to the side of my neck, I quickly pulled my hair over the other place I’d been marked.

“How was your weekend?” he arched a dark brow at me.

“It was fine.” I fumbled to put my belongings away. “And yours?”

He tilted his head and scrutinized me for a beat before he answered. “Pretty lame. The boss had me putting in overtime on a project.”

“She sounds like a real slave driver.” I jerked my chin towards Nicole with a smile. She was bobbing towards us with a strange expression on her face.

“Hey, Brighton,” she greeted me. “Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Bennett asked to see you in his office.”

“Me?” I blinked in confusion.

I hadn’t been into Ryland’s office since the first day I started there. And it was beyond me why he’d be calling me in now.

“Yep, you.” She gave me a half-hearted smile. “Unless there’s another Brighton Valentine running around here I don’t know about.”

Matt frowned and exchanged a glance with Nicole. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

Nicole stiffened but gestured to her office. They both gave me a tight smile before I disappeared down the hallway.

Ryland’s door was already cracked but still weighed about as much as the nerves that threatened to pull me under. I smoothed out my black A-line dress and finger combed my hair before I stepped inside.

He was leaning against his desk, absorbed by something on his phone before he glanced up at me.

“Miss Valentine.” He smiled and gestured to the chair in front of him. “Just the woman I wanted to see.”

He was in a particularly friendly mood today, which only served to confuse me more.

I took a seat and folded my hands across my lap. “Is everything okay, Mr. Bennett? Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t know why you called me in here.”

“Please call me Ryland. I think we’ve been over this before.”

“Ryland.” I nodded. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He walked around to the other side of his desk and shuffled through his paperwork, straightening it as he spoke. “And you haven’t done anything wrong, Miss Valentine. In fact, the reason I called you in here was because I had such good reports on your performance. So naturally, when I heard the news this morning, I knew you were the only person for the job.”

“What job?”

“Stacey’s on medical leave,” he replied. “For at least the next few months.

So I need someone to replace her. Do you think you’re up for it?”

“Absolutely.” I nodded, realizing belatedly that I’d shown no concern for Stacey at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, but really, the woman was a ticking time bomb. I had only wondered when she’d go off, not if.

“But I mean, I hope she’s alright,” I added.

Ryland shook his head in amusement before his phone chimed again, distracting him.

“She’s perfectly fine, Brighton.”

As my name left his mouth, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Because the usual cadence from his voice had disappeared, and I hadn’t imagined what I’d just heard. Ryland had never addressed me as anything other than Miss Valentine at the office, and for good reason. Because when he said my name that same inflection was there. The one that had whispered my name as he fucked me repeatedly over the weekend. The one that said he owned me.

How had he managed to fool me?

My heart exploded against my rib cage as I struggled for breath. My entire body was already shaking from the adrenaline, but I didn’t care. I thrust the chair backwards and tried to bolt towards the door. I vaguely saw Ryland’s gaze snap to my horrified expression before he rounded the corner of his desk. I didn’t know what I was going to do if I made it out of his office. But

the only thing I could think of right then was running. I was so close to the door I could almost feel the handle in my hand. My fingers had just wrapped around the metal when his hard body collided with mine from behind.

He spun me around and pinned me against the oak, clasping his hand over my mouth as his eyes narrowed in warning. His breath was ragged, his grip painful.

“Nothing has changed. Remember why you are doing this.”

I blinked back tears and shook my head weakly, not wanting to accept that he had just confirmed what I didn’t want to believe. That my tormentor not only had a face, but he was the same man I’d been so enrapt with over the last five years.

He must have known what I was thinking, because he flashed a smile, baring all of his teeth. The same teeth that had sunk into every part of my body.

“What’s the matter, Brighton?” he mocked. “You said you wanted it to be me, so surely, you can’t be that upset.”

He released his hand from my mouth and pressed his erection into my belly.

This was turning him on.

“Why are you doing this?” I rasped. “I would have given myself to you without a fight.”

“Perhaps.” He looked doubtful. “But not in the way I wanted.”

“Let me go,” I pleaded. “Just let me leave. I need time… time to think about all this…”

His lips stole my protests with brute force as he lifted my legs and secured them around his waist. When he unzipped his pants and pushed my thong aside, a mew escaped me before I could stop it. He rubbed the head of his cock against my own demented arousal with a satisfied grunt. And then he was inside me.

I still couldn’t reconcile that this was the same man who had taken my virginity. The only man who had ever been inside of me. But when he started to move, I was certain. Nobody else could ever feel like this. I didn’t care if I had nothing else to compare it to, I knew it in my bones. He had a primitive need to claim me that could never be replicated.

Our bodies slammed against the door as he pushed deeper. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he fucked me savagely.

His hands and lips and mouth and teeth were everywhere. Devouring me.

He showed no concern about anyone hearing us. When I started to moan around him, he bit my shoulder, leaving another mark for the world to see.

On instinct, I buried my own teeth in his neck, biting until I tasted the metallic tang of his blood against my tongue. It satisfied me in a way I didn’t expect, but it satisfied him too.

He carried me to the sofa and bent me over it. His hand gripped my hip as the other pulled down the zipper of my dress, revealing the lines he’d left on my back from this weekend.

His fingers traced over them again and again as his hips crashed into me.

His breaths were coming even harsher than before. The room was completely quiet, save for the slapping of his skin against mine. I felt the sheer power of his thighs as they flexed behind me, the strain of his bicep as he held me in place. He was so strong, I would never escape his grasp, even if I wanted to.

His darkness bled into me, inch by torturous inch, consuming me from the inside out. It made me feel powerful. It made me feel free. It made the next words that flew from my mouth a plea that he never stopped.

He was dark and twisted, but maybe I was too. Maybe that’s why we found each other. It was the addiction I was drunk on, and the same addiction that drove me over the edge.

I combusted around him, milking him for all it was worth with every wave of release that rolled through me. And when it was all over, he exploded inside of me, filling me so completely I never wanted to move again.

For a long time, we didn’t. He held onto me as though I still might bolt at any moment. I was too weak to even consider it. When he finally pulled out, my body felt his absence immediately.

The cool air danced along my exposed skin until he zipped my dress up and put me back together. Then he spun me around and brushed his thumb over the fresh bite mark on my shoulder. My eyes drifted to the angry red marks I’d left on his neck, but instead of regret, there was a deep sense of pride.

Because I’d claimed him too.

Who was this woman, and what had become of me? I didn’t bite men or have rough, angry sex. I didn’t fall for the man who was hurting my family.

My brother.

My eyes snapped to the blue irises of the creature before me, and I couldn’t make him out. Was he a monster, or was he a man? When I looked at him, I could only see a man. One who’d been hurt somehow and deep-down was

vulnerable. But when I thought about what he was doing to Brayden, I knew he couldn’t do those things unless he was a monster.

“Brighton.” He gripped me around the waist and pulled me close. “This changes nothing.”

His tone was firm and confident, but his eyes betrayed him. In the depths of those eyes, I could see the question he was asking. For my reassurance.

That our agreement was still on and that he still had claim over my body and life.

A smart woman would have walked away then. She would have lit a match and set fire to the entire clusterfuck that was this situation. But I was never a smart woman, and if you didn’t believe me, all you had to do was ask my mother.

Chapter Fourteen

When I got home that night, I found Nicole sitting at the breakfast bar. She was staring at a bouquet of Morning Glories and an expensive bottle of red wine that sat untouched in front of her. A quick glance at the label revealed it was a 2009 blend from the south of France.

“What’s this?” I teased. “Do you have another secret admirer I don’t know about?”

She glanced up at me, and I immediately regretted my lighthearted joke.

Her eyes were red and puffy.

“Nicole, are you okay?”

I moved around the breakfast bar to hug her, but she retreated backwards, holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m fine,” she croaked. “Sorry, but it’s been a long day. Would you mind… getting rid of that stuff while I take a shower?”

“Sure.” I nodded in confusion. “Do you want me to put it somewhere?”

“Just get it out of the apartment,” she whispered. “So I don’t have to look at it again.”

I picked up the flowers while Nicole padded to her room. The blooms were already drooping in the evening light of the apartment, and I found it a strange selection for someone to send Nicole. I wasn’t a flower connoisseur, but I thought I once read that these were a symbol of mortality or something along those lines.

When I stepped into the elevator, I bumped right into Ryland and nearly dropped everything in my arms. His lips tilted up at the corners as he helped me to regain my balance.

“Are you going to be popping up like this all the time now?”

The irritation in my voice was clear, but I couldn’t control it. I was still in shock from the big reveal, and the more I thought about it, the more questions I had.

He didn’t seem fazed though because he was too busy staring at the flowers in my arms.

“What are you doing with those?”

“I’m taking them to the trash. I think some creep sent them to Nicole, and she doesn’t want them.”

His gaze narrowed, and I wondered if he thought I was lying to him. Or perhaps he was upset someone had sent Nicole flowers. I still couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on between them, and it irritated me further to even think about it.

“What’s the deal with you two?” I questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean is there something going on between you and Nicole? Or anyone else for that matter?”

His expression softened as he took a step closer and tilted my chin up to meet his gaze.

“Would it bother you if there were?”

“Of course it would bother me,” I snapped. “I don’t know who else you’re playing these sick games with, and I think it’s only fair I know if I need to protect myself. You haven’t used a condom once since we’ve been together, and…”

“Brighton.” He smiled, completely derailing my train of thought. “Do you really think I’ve waited this long for you only to have someone else come along and distract me?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned. “I didn’t know that you had waited for this to happen. You acted like I didn’t even exist that first day you saw me again…”

Something occurred to me then. Something I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of before. “How did you know I would come to San Francisco?”

“I arranged the apprenticeship,” he said. “I had no doubts you would take it, but even if you didn’t, you’d be here regardless.”

“So this whole time, you’ve been testing me?” I accused. “With Stacey and with… who else is in on this?”

He opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him a chance to answer.

“Oh God, was that thing with Tom at the bar a test too?”

His jaw tightened, and it was answer enough. “I had to be sure you weren’t like your family.”

“You mean like Norma-Jean?” I snapped. “Because I’m nothing like her.

And neither is Brayden. He’s a good person, and I thought you were his friend. I don’t understand why you’re doing this to him!”

The elevator doors drew open, and he shook his head in clear warning. I knew what I asked was against the agreement, but I had too many questions, so recklessly, I persisted.

“Tell me why,” I demanded. “Tell me what happened between you two.

Why were you at our house that night? Is that why you brought me into this?”

He didn’t answer, and it was infuriating me. So I kept peppering him with whatever questions I could think of.

“What about those initials you put on my back?” I asked. “They aren’t even yours. Are they someone else’s? A womans?”

“You don’t get to ask those questions,” he barked. “Remember?”

“Fine.” I tore my gaze away from him like a scolded child and continued my walk to the trash receptacles. He caught up to me within a matter of moments and waited until I’d discarded the flowers before pulling me into his arms.

“The only thing you need to know is that you belong to me. Everything else, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” I insisted. “But you don’t care about that, do you?”

He answered by nuzzling into my hair and kissing his way down my throat while his hands explored my body. It wasn’t fair. He was touching me in all the ways he knew I liked, trying to weaken my defenses.

“You’re cold,” he whispered into my ear, rubbing his hand up my back to grip the base of my neck. “You should go back upstairs.”

“I should,” I agreed.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t while he was looking at me that way. As if he didn’t want me to go anywhere, and that right then, I was the most important thing in the world to him. It was a complete contradiction to everything he was doing.

He cradled my face in his hands and kissed me as if it were the last time he’d ever see me. I secretly wondered if he still thought it might be. That I might bolt at any given moment. And it was then that the truth of our circumstances really dawned on me. I already had the upper hand in this situation. He might have been holding the cards, but without me, he couldn’t win. Whatever this was, he needed me. And by the genuine emotion in his eyes, I wondered if that was a requirement of his game or his heart.

“You get one question,” he said. “I’ll try to answer it as best as I can. But it can’t be anything to do with Brayden.”

My brain jumped into overdrive at the realization of what he was offering. I had so many questions, and some were much more important than others.

But the one I’d asked myself again and again was the first to roll off my tongue.

“Why me? Of all the people in the world you could have, why did it have to be me?”

He stared at the ground then up at the sky, as if the answers were up there, out of his reach.

“It couldn’t have been anyone else, Brighton,” he replied in a haunted tone.

“Even if I hadn’t been looking for you, there was no way I could have missed you. There’s something about you I can’t explain. But whatever it is, it makes me want you in ways I can’t even describe. It wasn’t because you’re the perfect pawn, even though you are. It was because I wanted you, and nobody else would ever do.”

His words left a bitter taste in my mouth, and a strange ache inside of my chest. But there was warmth too. That was the way it always went with him.

Pleasure and pain. They were never two separate entities, but one. And apparently, it didn’t matter to my reptilian brain.

It didn’t matter that he’d openly admitted I was a pawn, or that if I sat back and really thought about what he was doing, I would be able to see it for what it was. I couldn’t take a step back from this situation. I was wrapped right up in the midst of it. Somehow, some way, I had landed in Ryland Bennett’s sights, and now all I could do was hold on for the ride.

There was a deep sense of dread when I thought about what would become of me once this was over. Of what would be left. Because it would end eventually. And when the dust had settled, and Ryland had gotten what he wanted and taken his fill of me, I would have Brayden back. But a part of me feared I would be nothing more than an empty shell. Longing for a man who was the worst kind of wrong for me. The kind who would hurt me at any opportunity he got. And it was this very realization that gave me the courage to break from his hold and walk away. ***

“Everything okay?” Nicole asked as I stepped back into the apartment.

“You were gone for a long time.”

“Everything’s fine.” I gave her a soft smile. “How are you doing?”

She stared out the floor to ceiling glass windows of our apartment, taking in the view as she did so often. I wished I could pry whatever was bothering her out of her head, but if there was one thing I’d learned about Nicole, it was I couldn’t rush her. I had to let her speak on her own terms, revealing little parts of herself layer by layer. I used to think I was a guarded person.

But now that I’d seen the likes of her and Ryland, I knew it wasn’t true.

“It’s just this day,” she explained. “It was the birthday of someone who was very special to me. I mentioned him to you once.”

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “He wasn’t my ex. We were still together when he passed away.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed tight, unsure what to say.

I’d never been good at comforting people. And I was even less comfortable with the subject of death. I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. The closest I’d come to losing anyone was having my father run out on us when I was a baby. But that was a choice, not a force of circumstance, and I didn’t even remember who he was.

“I’m really sorry, Nicole. I didn’t know.”

“We were supposed to get married.” She looked up at me with bleary eyes.

“We were both young, but we knew that’s what we wanted. I know we would have too.”

“I’m sure he loved you very much,” I agreed. “I don’t see how anyone couldn’t, Nicole. You’re an amazing woman.”

She collapsed onto the sofa, and her entire body shook as she broke into sobs.

“He was my whole world,” she insisted. “I never would have betrayed him.

But he’s gone now, and I still feel obligated… like I can’t move on. I know I shouldn’t be saying these things, God, I sound like such an awful person.

But its how I feel. Like I’m standing still. The whole world is moving around me, but I’m stuck in a different time and place.”

“Nicole.” I reached for her hands and squeezed them in mine, putting as much conviction into my voice as I could muster. “You aren’t dishonoring him by moving on. I’m sure he would have wanted you to be happy. He would have wanted you to have a life, even if he couldn’t be a part of it.”

“He won’t let me,” she cried. “He won’t let me move on.”

I stared at her in confusion. “Who won’t?”

She snapped her attention back to me and bit her lip as though she’d said too much. I’d heard about how grief could really mess with a person’s head, and I wondered if that’s what was happening here. I wanted to ask her more about it, but before I could, she stood up and wiped away her tears.

“I need some sleep,” she said. “I’m tired, and I’m not even making any sense right now. I’m sorry, Brighton. I didn’t mean to put all of this on you.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “That’s what I’m here for. I’m your friend, and I want you to talk to me. About anything.”

Instead of comforting her, my words had the opposite effect, and I wasn’t sure why. But Nicole gave me a tight smile as she said good night and padded off to her room.

Chapter Fifteen

Ryland avoided me the entire next day at work, and I was grateful.

I wasn’t in the mood to smile for my co-workers, so I kept to my desk most of the day.

By the time I left work at five, I was exhausted. But I needed to go to the store to get some groceries. The apartment had very little left in it, and I was in the mood for something with carbs.

Feeling a bit rebellious, I hopped onto the first cable car I saw and just rode it around for a while. I was still getting used to the public transportation system in San Francisco, and most of the time I stayed close to the apartment. But since I needed to take my mind off things, I figured exploring the city was one way to do it.

I was aware I was breaking Ryland’s rules by not texting him for permission. My phone burned in my hand the farther I went, and it was threatening to put a damper on the experience. I didn’t want to text him today. I wanted one day where I could pretend to be normal and enjoy my life without all the rules that hung over me. So I turned off my phone and shoved it into my bag. And before I could really think about the consequences, I tore off the GPS bracelet and tossed it out the window too.

I felt a little guilty for littering, but it was overshadowed by my newfound freedom. I was sure there would be punishment later, but right then, I didn’t care.

The cable car came to a stop after about thirty minutes, and the operator announced this was the end of the line. When I glanced out the window, I frowned, having no idea where I was. Still, I piled off along with everyone else and started walking.

I asked a nice elderly man if there were any shopping places in this part of the city, and he pointed me a couple blocks in the opposite direction. I made the sojourn in my heels, much to my discomfort, and ended up in China Town.

My nose led me to a place that served Dim Sum, which ended up being my dinner. After stopping at the bakery to get Nicole some cupcakes, I had my

fortune read by a machine on the street. And for the first time the entire day, I actually cracked a smile.

It warned me that things weren’t always what they seemed.

I laughed and then shivered as the sea breeze blew in and the streets started to thin. It was getting late, and I needed to get back to the apartment.

By the time I found the right bus and made another connection, it was past nine when I arrived at the building.

When I stepped inside, I found Ryland pacing the lobby floor with the phone to his ear. It clattered to the floor and broke into several pieces as he strode towards me without hesitation.

I was expecting anger, but what I saw was something else. His face was white, his eyes filled with anguish as he pulled me against his chest.

The door man stoically ignored our little display and slipped outside while Ryland crushed me in his grip. He was trembling, and I couldn’t understand why.

“Where were you?”

His voice was barely a whisper, and I didn’t have time to answer. Because he repeated the question over and over, his voice growing louder as he shook me in his arms.

I was so confused by his reaction, I found it difficult to speak. Because what I was seeing wasn’t anger, but terror. Pure and undiluted.

“I went shopping,” I croaked.

He pulled out the bracelet I’d tossed out of the cable car and showed me the broken pieces.

“I thought you were dead.” He pulled away and clenched his fists. “And you’re telling me you did this on purpose?”

“Why would you think I was dead?” I tried to reclaim the distance between us, feeling the need to comfort him.

He wouldn’t let me.

“These rules are not for my amusement,” he snapped. “They’re for your safety. I thought I’d made it clear, Brighton. You’ve broken our agreement.”

His eyes were cold and his voice dead flat. Fear bubbled up inside my chest as I rushed towards him.

“It was a mistake,” I cried out. “Please don’t sever the agreement. I just… I needed a day, that’s all. One day. You can punish me every other day for the next five months, I will gladly take it.”

He lifted his gaze and stared past me as if I had ceased to exist at all. I tried to touch him, and he pushed my hand away.

“Please, Ryland.”

He closed his eyes and turned on his heel, walking out the door.

I didn’t follow. That would only make things worse. But for the first time since we’d started playing this game, I saw another side of him. And I regretted what I’d done. Because it was clear that I’d gotten my wish. I had hurt him. *** It was Friday night, and I’d been waiting all week for Ryland to summon me again. But he hadn’t.

Now here I was, in the office at seven o’ clock, pacing back and forth as I debated my next move. I was working in much closer contact with him now that I was behind the reception desk. I took him his coffee and delivered his paper every morning, but he still hadn’t spoken to me since I’d broken his rule. In a way, his silence was worse than punishment.

I’d tried everything I could think of to get a rise out of him. I’d moved his paperweights around. Intentionally set his cup on the desk instead of the coaster. Left the remaining time on the microwave he always used. All of the little things I knew would bother him. I wanted him to get mad. Because if he was mad, it meant that I could still affect him. That he was still invested.

My heart was heavy, and it wasn’t just for Brayden. I didn’t handle guilt well. All week, I’d been replaying that night in my brain. The fear on Ryland’s face, followed by anger. As cold as he could be, I never imagined that I could possibly hurt him. But I had. I didn’t like to hurt anybody whether they deserved it or not. But hurting Ryland felt worse.

My confidence was floundering. I told myself I needed to stay close to him, for Brayden’s sake. So with more guts than I actually had, I walked into his office and caught him by surprise.

He was on the phone, rattling off a bunch of figures and terms I didn’t understand. Something to do with the financial aspects of his business I presumed, but it all sounded foreign to me.

I rocked back and forth on my black pumps for a moment as he arched his brow at me in question. He wanted to know what I was doing there. But I

couldn’t answer him because I didn’t even know myself.

So with purpose, as if it had been my plan all along, I strode around behind him and placed my hands on his shoulders. He stiffened immediately, but I didn’t let it dissuade me. I had to try something. Anything to break this cold front between us.

I sank my fingers into the tense muscles and worked them over in a way I hoped felt good. I’d never given anyone a massage before, but I figured it couldn’t be that difficult. When Ryland made a small noise in his throat, it gave me some encouragement.

My strokes became broader, using more pressure as I moved along the curve of his neck. My hands had a mind of their own as they threaded through his dark hair and massaged his scalp. That was when he decided to cut his phone call short.

I listened as he rattled off the appropriate goodbyes and spun his chair around, staring up at me with an odd expression.

“What are you doing, Brighton?”

The intensity of his questioning eyes made the guilt inside of me swell. He could see through my act, and I felt I was letting him down. Why that should bother me, I had no fucking idea, but it did.

“You’ve been stressed all week.” I cast my eyes to the floor. “I was trying to help.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had been stressed all week, and I didn’t know if it was from work or me.

“You can help me by going home,” he replied. “It’s late.”

I nodded, but couldn’t move. I couldn’t accept that this was it.

I surprised us both when I crawled onto his lap and pulled his lips to mine.

I’d never done anything so bold, and I worried the impending rejection was going to sting all the worse for it. But I learned something else about my power when Ryland sighed and pulled me closer. He cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss, drinking me in as though he’d been starving for my touch.

His need fueled mine, and before I could stop myself, my hands were everywhere. Unbuttoning his vest, sliding beneath his dress shirt and raking my nails down his chest. He groaned and pulled away, his eyes liquid fire as he gathered my wrists in his hands.

“I know this is going to sound hard to believe. But I don’t usually make a habit of having sex in my office.”

The mention of sex in his office ruffled my feathers in an unexpected way. I had visions of him bending other women over the same sofa where he’d taken me, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. My mission became that much more important, and for once, I didn’t care about the warning in his tone.

I slid off his lap and kneeled between his legs, dragging my fingers over the bulge in his pants as if to prove my point. He was hard, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to refuse me right now. I clutched the zipper with my fingers and challenged him with my eyes as I pulled it down tooth by tooth.

I hadn’t even really touched him yet, and already his breathing had changed. I considered it a victory as I slipped my hand inside and he didn’t protest. I reached through the opening of his cotton briefs until I found what I wanted.

He was hot and throbbing against my palm as I pulled just enough of his cock out for me to play with. The idea of him sitting in his leather office chair with me between his spread legs turned him on. It turned me on too.

His hands clutched the arms of the chair as I swirled my tongue around the head, collecting the clear liquid that had gathered there. His cock jumped as I licked him from root to tip in one long motion.

I didn’t think it possible, but the rigid flesh grew even more as it fell back against his belly, visibly pulsing with need. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I decided to go with my gut and play with the soft sack resting at the base. I’d had the urge to taste that velvety skin ever since the first time I’d brushed it with my hand.

It was just as soft as I remembered. His head fell back on a sigh as I explored him with my tongue. His eyes drifted shut and his mouth parted, and it was then that I knew I had him. And it wasn’t a point for my game, it was a point for me.

I sucked him back into my mouth and played around with different techniques, listening to his breathing to see what he liked best. His hands threaded through my hair, but this time he wasn’t trying to take control. He simply let me do what I wanted, appreciating every second of it.

When he came, it was with a long and ragged groan. The difference in his posture was obvious, and my heart skipped a beat knowing I had the power to ease his tension.

“Come up here.” He patted his lap.

I climbed into his lap and relaxed in his arms while he stroked my back and kissed my neck.

“You look tired,” I murmured against him.

“That’s because I am, baby girl.”

The ocean between us grew smaller by the moment, and when my eyes locked with his, I was afraid of what that meant for me. For my heart that I was supposed to be keeping out of this.

I reached up to clasp his face in mine while I stared into his eyes.

“Still mad at me?”

He blew out a breath and clutched me tighter. “I don’t like to worry about you.”

“Am I in danger?” I asked.

Ryland stiffened beneath me. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because last week, you said you thought I was dead. And the rule about my safety. Is there something I should know?”

He dropped his gaze and shook his head.

“No, you’re not in danger.”

His voice held conviction, but there was something else there too. And if I wasn’t in danger, I couldn’t understand his reaction. Why he’d immediately assumed I was dead when I’d gone missing for a few hours. If it were any other time, I might have pushed the issue, but we were already on shaky ground.

“Stay the weekend with me,” he said.

I didn’t know if I had a choice or not, but either way, I nodded my assent.

“I have to go to my apartment to get my things.”

He picked me up and set me on my feet. “I’ll buy you whatever you need on the way.”

“I don’t want you to buy me anything,” I argued. “I have everything I need at my apartment.”

He gave me a look that told me it was not up for discussion as he threaded his fingers through mine and led me from the office. *** It was ten minutes past eight, and the store was now officially closed. The retail assistant kept giving me dirty looks while Ryland typed away on his

phone. Yet, she’d insisted she was more than happy to keep the store open late for him.

I glanced at another price tag and frowned.

“Ryland,” I whispered.

He blinked up at me as though he couldn’t possibly understand what the problem was.

“I can’t buy anything here. This is crazy.”

This little statement earned me another scowl from pouty Patricia with her perfect hair and tailored skirt suit.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like the clothing. I’d dreamed of nothing but wearing this kind of clothing for as long as I could remember. It was why I collected every fashion magazine I could ever afford with my meager income. It was the reason I learned to sew. I wanted to design my own creations and have something great instead of another bargain bin special. But allowing someone else to buy me these kinds of garments made me feel cheap somehow.

Ryland simply grunted at my statement as he pulled me into his side and barked off his orders to Patricia.

“She needs an assortment of clothing to last the weekend. Size eight.

Makeup, bath products, whatever else women usually need. And shoes. Can you handle that, Patricia, within the next ten minutes?”

“Of course.” She gave him a feline smile. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Bennett.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, forking over his shiny black credit card. “We’ll wait up the front.”

Patricia was punctual, I had to give her that. She arrived exactly nine minutes later, loaded down with three other shop assistants and more bags than I could count.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at the ground as Ryland signed off on the whole transaction. I couldn’t see that amount and still look at my face in the mirror every day, so I chose to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Once we were back out on the curb, I climbed into the black Jaguar he’d driven us in. I didn’t know much about cars, but this one was all sleek lines and quiet power. It had a beauty that snuck up on you unexpectedly, and you could tell Ryland was proud of it as he cruised through the streets of San Francisco. He’d mentioned that this model was completely customized for him, and it was the only one in the world like it.

When I asked him how he managed to acquire it, he gave me a wolfish smile that smacked of sarcasm for two reasons. One, he’d never tell me, and two, I should have been smart enough not to ask in the first place.

I sank into the buttery soft seats and observed the flashing lights pass us by as we edged towards the sea. The experience couldn’t be dulled. At least now I could say I’d ridden in a luxury sport’s car with one of the worlds’ one percenters. My mother would choke on her cigarette if she saw me now.

When we pulled into the marina, I shot Ryland a questioning glance, but he simply went about removing all my bags from the trunk. Ted was at the ready to take the car and zipped off at Ryland’s go ahead.

I followed him on wobbly legs across the docks until we reached what I was certain must be a joke.

“There she is.” Ryland gestured to a tiny vessel bobbing in the sea.

I didn’t know much about boats either, but this one was old and weathered and rather small. It was the polar opposite of the car he drove, and I couldn’t see the comparison.

Of course, I took his outstretched hand after he unloaded the bags and stepped onboard. I wasn’t about to be a snob about the type of boat ride I would accept, especially when I’d never been on one to begin with.

But as the boat rocked to and fro in the gentle sway of the ocean, I gripped the leather seat with white knuckles and a certain look of terror on my face.

It occurred to me that we were venturing out into the open water on this tiny vessel. I’d never swum in the ocean, but I knew there were creatures lurking in there much bigger than this. I had on occasion been forced to watch the Discovery channel when Brayden managed to scab some free cable. All I could think about now were killer whales coming up beneath us.

Ryland buckled me in with an amused grin before prying my hands from the sides of the seat and placing them in my lap.

“First time on a boat?”

“Gee, how’d you guess?” I quipped.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured me. “You’re in competent hands.”

I wanted to tell him that made him sound arrogant, but I kept my mouth shut as he messed with all the doohickeys by the steering wheel. I figured he would probably need all of his focus not to kill us, so I didn’t want to give him any distractions.

The motor roared to life, and Ryland came alive as he pushed us out to sea.

It was the strangest transformation, all of his tension and stress rolling off of

him as he took on the open water.

Once I calmed down enough to look around me, I started to enjoy myself.

The Bay area was a sight to behold with the twinkling lights of the city falling into the backdrop and the Golden Gate Bridge off to the side.

The salt air cooled my face and refreshed me in a way I was unfamiliar with. I closed my eyes and inhaled, adding another first to my memory bank. When I opened them again, I caught a glimpse of Ryland as he messed with the old-fashioned knobs on his radio. For someone so tech savvy, I couldn’t believe how much he fit into this picture. He was in his element, and I was in awe of the sight before me.

The moonlight shimmered off the open water and reflected the lights of an unknown place up ahead. But it was Ryland’s profile that I drank in, seeing one of those rare candid moments when he was simply Ryland. Not Ryland Bennett, billionaire. Not Ryland, the ruthless businessman. Not even Ryland the puppet master who had control of my fate.

This was the face of the Ryland I had first glimpsed on my front porch. The man who had an appeal to him I could never quite put my finger on. He was obviously handsome, but that was never what did it to me. With my family, I never had too many high hopes for attracting a good-looking boyfriend.

The best I could have hoped for was that he was sweet and could handle the crazy of Norma-Jean and an overly protective Brayden. But Ryland was none of those things. He was dark and mysterious, and the type of man my mother warned me was bad for a woman’s heart.

I could still hear her gravelly voice in my head as she let out a bitter laugh.

Those men are just like your father. Good for nothing, low life, scum of the earth.

A shudder ran through me, and I was surprised when Ryland kneeled down and ran his hands over my arms. We’d stopped at a private dock, and I hadn’t even noticed.

“Are you cold?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“No.” I shook my head and let the memories of the past fade away. “I’m fine. Are we here?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “This is the place.”

He unbuckled me, and as I glanced at his face, I thought I saw a hint of nerves there. He helped me up onto the dock before following with the bags.

There was a heavy silence as he led me up the dock and to a tiny staircase that looked to be the length of the Great Wall of China. Only, it was carved up the side of a steep embankment.

I walked for exercise because my high school gym teacher told me it was the closest I could get to actual physical exertion without hurting myself. So climbing up the side of a mountain was not on my list of all-time favorite things to do, but I started the trek anyway.

Half-way through, my thighs were burning, and I had a splitting ache in my side as I grasped the railing beside us.

“This is not the same place you took me last weekend,” I huffed.

Ryland smiled and paused to let me rest.

“It is, but you came by car. Not boat.”

“And you prefer the boat?” I wheezed.

A dark look passed over his face before he nodded tightly. “It’s tradition.”

I didn’t have any clue what that meant, but the solemn look on his face was enough to kick my butt into action again. There were so few moments he was happy, and tonight was one of them. Until I opened my big mouth.

Again I questioned why it mattered to me, but there was no logic to my madness.

When we finally traversed the great wild and landed on flat ground, I was rewarded with the most breathtaking view I’d ever seen. Sitting atop the bluff was a Victorian style mansion most definitely not built anytime this century. There was an actual rolling expanse of grass and lush greenery all around us. It was as private as private could get in San Francisco.

When I turned around, I was again rewarded with panoramic views of the city’s skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. I couldn’t stop taking it all in, and it was only when I looked at Ryland that I saw how carefully he was watching me.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“This is my home. On Belvedere Island.”

“It’s so beautiful…” That word didn’t even do it justice, but it was the only one I could think of.

He didn’t reply. He led me up another staircase and unlocked the back door.

I followed him inside, taking in every nuance of the place. Each room we passed through was filled with lush draperies and rich, bold colors decorated the walls. Golds and reds, creams and beiges accented the mahogany colored floors and accents. The furnishings were extravagant,

plush earthen tones that loomed larger than life beneath the vaulted ceilings.

It was the most beautiful home I’d ever seen.

I wanted to stop to take every inch of it in, but Ryland was quick to lead me up the large wooden staircase that wound itself towards the top of the house.

He stopped on the second level and walked down another long corridor before opening a set of pale blue French doors to reveal the master suite.

He set my bags on a velvet ottoman in the corner of the room and turned towards me. “This is where you’ll be sleeping. The bathroom is through there as you probably remember.”

As I glanced around the room, I tried to recall the small details I’d picked up during my last stay. It was so different seeing it in color.

“You can take a bath if you’d like,” he suggested. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” I smiled, liking his first suggestion much better. A bath sounded nice right now.

“Okay.” He eased towards the door as though he were relieved. Perhaps he was second guessing himself for bringing me here after all. “Well, I have some work to do. There’s a library down the hall on the right if you get bored. And of course, the televisions work as well.”

I nodded and let him slip away without any protest, sensing he needed to put some distance between us.

I made my way into the bathroom and eyed the clawfoot tub. Forget libraries or televisions. This was where I’d be spending the next hour.

Chapter Sixteen

Something stirred me from sleep, and it took me a moment to realize it was Ryland.

He was hovering over me, kissing his way along my throat. On instinct, my hand came up and threaded through his hair. His moved between my legs and started to rub against my panties.

“I like this,” he groaned.

He’d only touched me for a minute, and already I could barely string together a coherent sentence.

“What?”

“Having you in my bed whenever I want,” he murmured.

I thought that was the whole point of the game. But right then, I didn’t really care. All I cared about was the heat his hands created on my body.

The ache between my thighs that burned only for him.

I ran my hands over his muscular back, and he leaned down and nipped my lower lip.

“Tell me you like it too,” he insisted.

There was something in his voice that told me this wasn’t an order. He really wanted to know if I liked it. The hormones surging through my body gave me permission to be honest.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” I whispered.

He stopped and held me captive with the intensity of his stare. “I want to hear you say it.”

His entire being was like a vortex, pulling me in and devouring me completely. How could I ever deny him?

“I like it,” I admitted. “But I like it better when you treat me badly. It makes me remember not to get too close to you.”

He smiled, and I was mortified. God, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that to him.

His eyes drank me in, inch by vulnerable inch, committing it all to what was no doubt a photographic memory. The places where I was soft were what he lingered on the longest. Where a spark of the familiar fire that was always present inside of him flared to life.

His fingers continued to rub me through the fabric of my underwear, leaving me just on the edge of sanity. I needed more.

At this point, I would have let him string me up and whip me all night long if it was what he wanted to do. I half expected it. So when he reached down and gave me a gentle kiss, it surprised me. It lacked his usual roughness and held the promise of something more. Something dangerous.

He kissed his way down my belly, and I arched into his touch. When he got to the apex of my thighs, he nuzzled against the fabric of my panties and inhaled.

“You smell so fucking good,” he whispered.

I moaned, and he lifted my hips and slid my panties off. I expected him to tease and torture me the way he always did, but he didn’t. He leaned forward and lifted my thighs over his shoulders, burying his face between my legs.

I jerked and bucked against him, squeezing the covers in my fists.

“Ryland.”

I was panting, desperate, and it was driving him crazy.

His tongue lapped at my clit while he stuffed me so full of his fingers I couldn’t breathe. I sucked in mouthfuls of air as I clamped down around him. Shockwaves of pleasure ricocheted through my body, plunging me into the hypnotic state only he could induce.

He groaned and nuzzled against my thigh before collapsing beside me. I reached for his arm, wondering what he was doing. I blinked up at him, his eyes soft and calm, his breathing even and relaxed. Ryland was comfortable being still, I’d come to realize. That was when he was in his element. He wielded that stillness like a weapon, making me wait in agony for my next fix.

“What about you?” I whispered.

He smiled. “I want you to ride me, baby girl.”

“Oh.” His request made me nervous, being on display for him like that. I didn’t even know how to do what he asked. But I didn’t want to displease him, and that’s how I knew I was lost.

I crawled up his body, pausing to kiss him in places like he’d done to me. I wanted to see how he would react. When my lips dragged across his abs, and he shivered, I smiled against him. He was giving me free rein, and I kind of liked it.

I straddled his hips and positioned myself against his cock. It lay hot and heavy against his belly, and I had the strangest urge to rub against it. So I did.

When I slid my arousal against him, he groaned. It spurred me on, and for a while I just enjoyed rocking back and forth along his length, teasing him for a change.

“Jesus,” he rasped. “For someone so innocent, you know how to drive me crazy.”

I grinned, and he clutched at my waist. “Let me inside of you, Brighton.”

His voice was desperate, pleading. And I had no choice but to put him out of his misery. I fisted his arousal in my hand and guided him inside of me.

A strangled noise left his throat when I rolled my hips back and forth, and his head fell back against the pillow. God, he was beautiful. A beautiful monster.

I had to touch his face, I couldn’t help myself. My fingers feathered over his jaw, and he turned to the side and sucked them into his mouth. I whimpered, and he rocked his hips up to greet me.

He took my fingers from his mouth and guided them down to my clit.

“Play with yourself,” he ordered. “I want to watch.”

I did as he asked, closing my eyes, so I didn’t feel like I was on display. I was still grinding my hips against him, and he was allowing me to set the pace. His hands strummed over my body, touching all of his favorite places.

My breasts, my throat, my lips.

I shattered around him again, and he pulled me forward and started to thrust into me at his own pace.

“Mark me,” he whispered on a ragged breath.

I didn’t ask how. It was an automatic response. I was quickly learning I’d do anything when he sounded that way. Like I was making him lose control.

I nuzzled into his shoulder and then bit down. He hissed in a breath of air, followed by a long, pained groan as he flooded my belly with warmth.

“Fuck, Brighton.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

“What are you doing to me?” *** When I woke up, I was still splayed across Ryland’s chest. He hadn’t even moved me. His hand was stroking my lower back, his eyes fixed on the

ceiling.

We were cuddling.

It was surreal. It was completely insane. And yet, I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to.

“What are you thinking?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

There was a beat of silence before complete nonsense burst from my mouth.

“I want to know more about you.”

I didn’t know where it had come from. And it had the immediate effect of making him stiffen beneath me, so I hurried to explain.

“Anything you want to share,” I amended.

He relaxed a little and started to stroke me again. “Like what?”

“Like… how did you come to be Ryland Bennett, CEO?” It was good a place as any to start.

Ryland was quiet for a moment, and he didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling.

“My father was a businessman,” he explained. “I always admired him for it, for how hard he worked. But the truth was, he was too soft. He didn’t have the heart to do business. You have to be able to dissociate on some level, and he couldn’t do that. So his business failed.”

“But you can do that,” I whispered.

It wasn’t a question.

“As much as I admired him, his choices ended up costing him everything. It motivated me to take a different path.”

“Well, it worked.” I tangled my legs up in his and nuzzled against his chest, comforted by the vibrations as he spoke. I liked that he was opening up to me if only a little.

“Are you happy?”

“What do you mean?” he looked down at me.

“I mean with your life. Are you happy with the way things turned out?”

Something strange passed over his features, and he tightened his grip on me but tore his gaze away.

“Happiness is an illusion, Brighton. It’s only something people think they can have. It’s fleeting. It can be taken away at any moment.”

My grip on him tightened too, and I wasn’t sure why.

“If that’s true,” I whispered. “Then what’s the point?”

He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to.

I changed the subject.

“Why did you pretend like you didn’t remember me?” I asked. “The first day I saw you again.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate to answer. “I thought it would be easier for you.”

“How?” His eyes found mine again, and I had to remind myself to breathe. It was so easy to get lost in those blue depths. To feel like this was where I belonged, wrapped in his arms.

“I didn’t want you to expect things from me that weren’t possible. Things a girl like you probably wants from a man. Things I can’t give you.”

I fluttered my eyes closed and focused on the beating of his heart.

It did exist. I knew he had one. So why was he making it sound like he didn’t?

Chapter Seventeen

Summer faded into fall, and before I knew it, it had been two and a half months. That was how long Ryland and I had been playing his game.

It was strange how things had evolved between us. We had a routine now.

My weekends belonged to him, and they were spent at his home on Belvedere Island. We still had our hotel visits too, usually twice a week. He was a busy man, and it didn’t leave him a lot of free time. What little he did have, he spent with me.

I didn’t have any illusions. It was still a game to him. But I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my heart out of it.

I never knew what to expect from him. The sex could be anything from sweet and gentle to downright insane. Ryland had dark days. Days when he needed to exorcise his demons, and he would use me to do it. I accepted the pain he doled out with open arms. I was long past being ashamed of it.

When he was in one of those moods, he could fuck me for hours and never stop.

For some reason, those times were the most intimate between us. Those sessions were crazy and addicting, and I got high even thinking about them.

But they scared me too. Ryland’s darkness was a double edged sword. The very thing that held us together was also the thing threatening to tear us apart.

He spoke of it as though it were an entity that lived inside of him. And if that were true, then like all unwelcomed house guests, I thought surely it could be banished. But when I looked into his tormented eyes, I didn’t want him to change. I wanted him to find happiness. Even if it was only fleeting. *** Ryland was on the phone when I walked into his office, and I hovered near the door uncertainly. He gestured for me to close it, and then come to him. I did.

The minute I was within reach, he pulled me into his lap. My head fell against his chest and his fingers feathered over my back while he continued to speak. He sounded irritated. Something hadn’t gone his way at the meeting today.

When he finally got off the phone, his head fell back against the leather chair with a groan.

“You called for me?” I asked.

“I did.”

He was still stroking my back, his eyes closed.

“I have another meeting in thirty minutes,” he said.

He didn’t need to tell me what he wanted. The tension in his body made it clear. The devil inside of him wanted to come out and play. Thirty minutes wasn’t a long time, but I was certain he had every intention of making them count.

I crawled onto the floor and positioned myself between his legs, dragging my fingers over the erection beneath his trousers. It was like waking the beast.

His eyes opened slowly, and then they fixated on me. There was a rapturous hunger there I only glimpsed in moments like these. Where he was the hunter, and I was the prey. Where I was the virtuous innocent who looked upon him like the monster he wanted to be. He craved these moments, I could see it in every inch of his soul. If there was one thing I knew how to recognize, it was an addict.

And Ryland Bennett was addicted to me.

I released him from the confines of his pants and sucked him into my mouth. It was too gentle, and I was well aware of it.

I smiled when his hands threaded through my hair and pushed me down onto his groin.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned. “You always know…”

His words drifted off as he force-fed me his cock. There was an odd assortment of sweetness mixed in with the harsh words that flew from his mouth during these sessions.

He told me I was his dirty little angel and I loved it when he degraded me like this. That I loved being used by him. Then he would tell me how sweet and beautiful and pure I was. I didn’t believe for a second that any of those things were true, especially since I did love what he was doing.

He nearly came several times before he pulled away, his breath ragged. He stood over me, his cock jutting out from between his legs, still glistening with my saliva. God, he was sexy when he was like this.

“Get up,” he demanded.

I rose up on shaky legs, and he spun me around and flattened me over his desk. He lifted my skirt and pulled my panties to the side before pressing his body against mine. His arousal dug into my back when he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

“You’re going to feel me every time you move today.”

His hand wrapped around my throat and held me down while his palm reverberated across my ass. I yelped, and then he did the same to the other side.

“I own you, Brighton.”

I whimpered.

“Say it.”

I smashed my lips together and smiled beneath the curtain of my hair.

“Don’t deny me,” he growled.

I did, but only because I knew he liked it.

“Goddammit,” he grunted. “Now I’m going to have to show you.”

I heard the sound of his belt being tugged from his pants, and I shivered.

He’d trained me to like this. And I did. God, did I like it.

He held me down and fucked me fast and hard as he lashed my ass with the belt. He was breathing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. I’d barely be able to walk out of this office, but it would be worth it. I liked taking his pain away.

What was wrong with me?

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, slapping his hips against mine. “Why do you push me like this? Just say it, baby girl.”

I finally relented, giving him what he wanted.

“I’m yours. You own me.”

It wasn’t a lie.

He fell on top of me as his cock jerked inside of me, filling me with everything he had. I clenched around him and whined when he pulled away.

He fixed his clothes, and then mine, the same way he always did. Then he pulled me back into his lap. My ass was sore as hell, and he smirked when he saw me wince.

“I’ll take care of that for you tonight,” he said softly.

“Okay.”

He always took care of me afterwards. That was how I knew he did have a heart. I leaned back against his chest just to feel it, and he kissed my neck.

“Brighton?”

“Hmm?” I murmured sleepily.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Eighteen

I woke to his hands on my body.

It was late, and I didn’t expect to hear from him. He told me he had too much work, and I went to sleep. But now here he was, in my apartment. He never came to my apartment, except for that first day.

Something cool glided over my back, and I realized he was putting aloe on my skin.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he whispered.

I rolled to face him and curled up in his arms. He held me and fanned my hair across his chest the way he liked. I squeezed him tighter, hoping he wouldn’t go. I could feel his pulse against my skin, lulling me to sleep like a sweet melody.

This was becoming a problem. But I craved him in these ways. The unexpected ones. Like his forehead kisses, or the way he pulled me closer in his sleep. He wanted me to accept these things. He took everything I gave and still demanded more. Always more.

But how much more could I give him? Nothing had changed. Why did I keep forgetting that? How could I do this to Brayden?

“Stop thinking,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”

It was easy when he gave me the order. I didn’t have to think. I just did what he said without question. So I nuzzled closer and let sleep carry me away. *** It was the weekend which meant we were spending it on Belvedere Island.

Ryland was working in his office, and I was writing a letter to Brayden. It was risky doing it here, but I was falling behind.

My guilt had been eating at me, and Brayden was suffering for it. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I loved my brother more than anything, and I wanted to believe I was doing this for him. That was true at the start, but was that still the case?

I still had no idea what Ryland’s motives were. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. I knew nothing about his family. The only time he’d spoken of them was when he mentioned his father, but that was in the past tense. Also, Ted had let it slip that he’d been his driver since he was a young child.

Ted probably had a whole vault of information on Ryland, but could I pry it out of him? I highly doubted it. He seemed as loyal as they came. On the ride over tonight, I’d hedged towards the subject, and he quickly shut it down. He may have been older, but he was sharp as a tack.

So that left nothing but my brain to connect the dots. I needed to find a way to get Brayden to talk about him without alerting Ryland. But so far, I was coming up empty.

It was late, and I was tired, so I put my things away and changed into my pajamas. I was sure Ryland would be in soon enough, so I curled up and fell asleep. *** I woke with a rush of air from my lungs and a racing heart. When I glanced around the dark room, panic threatened to engulf me. I flicked on the bedside lamp, expecting to find someone beside me. But I was alone, and a glance at the clock confirmed it was three am.

I didn’t know what had woken me, but a chill came over me as I clutched my arms around my chest. I was shaking.

I padded to the ottoman and wrapped a silk bathrobe around me before tiptoeing down the hall. The house was much larger when I was walking through it by myself, and much darker too. Though it was incredibly beautiful, there was also a haunted quality to it. The more time I spent here, the more I noticed that lingering sense of despair.

I poked my head into each room I passed, most of which opened without protest. There was a library on this floor where I often spent time, along with a state of the art gym. Several empty rooms with sterile bedding sat untouched, and I gathered these were probably guest rooms.

When I reached the staircase, I lowered my foot to go downstairs to the office where Ryland would most likely be. But then my curiosity got the best of me, and I moved upwards instead.

The first couple of floorboards creaked under the weight of my feet, and I carefully tested every one after to find the right spot. I didn’t like sneaking around, but I needed to know what Ryland’s motives were. Even if that meant I had to dig them up myself.

I made it up to the next level, only to be shocked by the state of it. Dim lights flickered along the corridor, highlighting the dust bunnies that had made this level home. While every other area of the house was immaculate, this one lay untouched. One corner of the wallpaper hung in tatters while several burnt out lights stood out like sore thumbs.

I tiptoed down the hall, wrapping my robe around me tightly. Even the air up here was cooler too. I jiggled the first doorknob I came to, only to be met with the resistance of a lock. The knob was an old-fashioned type that appeared to take some sort of skeleton key.

I found it odd but continued on my way, only to be met with the same resistance at every door. But at the end of the hall, a sliver of light spilled into the hallway, giving me hope my venture wouldn’t be completely fruitless.

I moved closer, holding my breath as I placed my hand on the wood, preparing to open it further. But before I could, I caught a glimpse of movement inside.

Ryland was sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a box in his lap as he sorted through the contents. His back was facing the door, and I couldn’t make out what he was looking at when he pulled something from the box.

Whatever it was, he stared at it for a long time. The tension in his body was obvious, and instinctively I knew this was something he wouldn’t want me seeing.

My eyes wandered around the room, taking in whatever little details I could. Masculine colors dominated the bed and the few random items of clothing that were strewn about. It was odd that it was so messy and looked so lived in. It wasn’t Ryland’s room, but it was definitely a man’s room.

There were stacks of CDs on the dresser covered in at least an inch of dust.

A signed poster from a rock band hung from the wall, and there was a PlayStation and about a million games beneath it.

On the bedside table was a picture frame, and it was tilted just enough that it was out of my line of sight. I mentally debated whether I’d be able to reach through the door and turn it without alerting Ryland, but I chickened out at the last second.

He made a noise in his throat, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. He closed up the box of contents he’d been looking at, and I was sure he was about to get up.

But instead, he slumped forward and braced his head in his hands.

It was this moment that something broke inside of me. What I witnessed was pure, undiluted pain. I hadn’t seen it before. He’d used his anger to hide it, the same way I’d seen Brayden often do. But this was so much worse. This told me something horrible happened to Ryland Bennett. And that’s how I knew I was royally fucked. Because I cared, and I shouldn’t have.

It became obvious I was no longer playing a game to save my brother. I was falling for the very man who’d coerced me into it. *** The weight of the bed dipped when he laid down beside me. I quieted my breathing as I debated what I should do. I could pretend I was asleep. That I hadn’t witnessed what I just had. It was the smart thing to do. The thing my self-preservation was screaming at me to do. But it wasn’t what my heart wanted.

I rolled towards him and pressed my palm against his chest. It was bare, and even now I could feel the scars that marred it. They were thick and jagged, spanning the length of his rib cage up to his chest. I wondered what could have hurt him so badly and I hoped that someday, he would finally tell me.

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly.

I didn’t answer. I clutched his face in my hands and pulled his lips to mine.

I needed him inside me. Why, I couldn’t explain. But I did.

Ryland didn’t protest when I climbed on top of him and unceremoniously pulled down his waistband until his cock sprang free. My fever quickly spread to him as his hands tugged at the silk camisole I was wearing, trying to free it from my body.

He ended up settling for pushing it around my waist as I sank down onto his erection, thrusting my entire body forward for his pleasure. His hands pawed at my breasts while I rocked against him, making him groan with every movement.

When his mouth wrapped around my nipple, I cried out his name. We both went wild with need, using each other for our own desperate pleasure…

sucking and nipping, gripping and pulling. My tongue, my breasts, my hair… they all became objects of his desire while I clutched at his arms and kissed along his neck. It was the strangest combination of sex we’d ever had. Raw, animal fucking interspersed with sweet passion.

He would bite me and pull my hair, then soothe it with a gentle caress while he kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. When I finally hit the crescendo, he threaded his fingers through mine before allowing his own release a moment later.

Once it was all over, silence engulfed the room around us. I had no words, and apparently neither did he. He moved to pull out, but I couldn’t let him.

Not yet. I needed him there, inside of me, connected to me… where he belonged.

Ryland groaned as he flipped me onto my back and began to pulse inside of me with the smallest of movements while he kissed every inch of my face.

The room was still dark, save for the light of the moon that spilled in through the curtain. And in that darkness, I felt safe with him. Safe to let myself be vulnerable in his arms.

He spent the rest of the night inside of me, savoring every moment as if it were a gift. When he finally collapsed and pulled me into his arms, I asked him again the question that haunted me.

“Why me, Ryland?”

He kissed me on the forehead and gave me the same answer he had before as he pulled me closer. “It could only ever be you.”

The sun was coming up, but I wasn’t tired, and by the pattern of his breathing he wasn’t going to sleep either. Still, I hadn’t expected him to speak, so when he did, it surprised me.

“Sometimes I ask myself the same thing,” he admitted. “It was logical for me to choose you, but I didn’t think I wanted to. Everything changed when I saw you that day. When I learned everything there was to know about you.”

“You couldn’t possibly know everything about me,” I replied. “Only what you’ve seen on paper.”

“Try me,” he suggested.

“Okay…” I mulled this over for a moment before asking him the dumbest question I could think of. “How do I take my pancakes?”

“With peanut butter and powdered sugar. A disgusting combination by the way.”

I stared at him with my mouth gaping as I processed his words. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I told you.” He shrugged. “I know everything there is to know about you, Brighton.”

“That isn’t true,” I argued, desperate to prove my point. “You can’t know my thoughts. My feelings.”

He was quiet for a moment before he conceded. “I suppose there is one thing I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Whether you still think I’m a monster or not.”

His voice was distant again, but I didn’t let it affect me or my response. I’d been vulnerable enough to him already tonight, and this little game he was playing was a very real reminder of our circumstances.

“Does it matter what I think?” I turned the words back around on him.

There was a long pause before he answered. “It shouldn’t.”

I didn’t have time to think of a response because a moment later he kissed me on the cheek and rolled out of bed.

“I’m going for a run,” he said. “Get some sleep, Brighton.” *** I sat out on the back porch, sipping a steaming cup of hot coffee. The fog from the bay rolled off the water and into the back yard, completing the eery feeling of this house.

Ryland had been gone for over two hours, and I couldn’t sleep without him.

I didn’t bother venturing up to the third level again because it was too creepy to consider.

I didn’t understand how he could spend any time here alone. The sorrow that surrounded this house was deep and profound, and I wondered why Ryland would even own a place like this. The more I uncovered about him, the more I was convinced that something horrible happened in his past.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled up google on my phone. But instead of typing in Ryland’s name, I typed in something else that I was certain I never would again.

Lockhart Family in Chicago.

Article after article flooded the results, and I hovered over them with a hesitant finger. I didn’t want to see their faces. To see the entire family my

brother had eradicated. But I couldn’t stop myself this time.

I skipped over the articles about the accident and moved to the biographical information. I focused my search efforts on the only remaining survivor, Michael Lockhart. The patriarch of the family and a well-loved businessman, he seemed for all intents and purposes to have the perfect life.

His business was based out of Chicago, but it stated he was from California originally. It would have been a little too coincidental for my liking if it weren’t for the next piece of information I stumbled on.

I was surprised to learn his life had also been cut short not long after the accident.

Michael Lockhart, age 49 passed away from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

The shocking news comes only six months after the death of his wife Katherine and children Jackson and Sophia in a tragic hit and run…

My stomach knotted, and bile rose in my throat. I didn’t want to know anymore. I couldn’t.

Then as if the universe had a sick sense of humor, my cell phone rang a God-awful tone, making me wince.

“Hello?” I answered wearily.

Norma-Jean and I didn’t talk very often. So if she was calling, there must be a good reason.

“Brighton, it’s your… it’s Norma-Jean,” she replied in her gravelly tone.

If I wasn’t concerned before, the fact she’d almost said it’s your mother sent alarm bells off inside my head. Not since I was ten years old had she allowed me to call her that. During one of her phases, she decided to reinvent herself, scrounging up the money to change her name. She went into the courthouse as Patty Valentine and came out as Norma-Jean Richmond. She said she thought it made her sound classier. I silently rebutted that she was only fooling herself.

“What’s going on?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line which only made me more anxious.

“What is it, Norma?” I demanded. “Is Brayden okay?”

“He’s been attacked again,” she spat out as though it were somehow my fault.

Blood roared in my ears, and I had to hold onto to the table to keep myself upright.

“How bad is it?” I croaked.

This wasn’t the first time Brayden had been attacked. He’d been a target from the moment he stepped foot in the MCC. By the time his sentence was handed down, and he was transferred to Greenville, his face had been splashed across every major news outlet that ever existed. People all over the nation paused to shed tears for the victims of the horrific crime that had taken place. It was a story that pulled at the heartstrings of every man, woman, and child… myself included. But someone had to stand by Brayden’s side, and that someone was me. He was my twin brother, my lifeblood, and I knew in my heart he wasn’t capable of such recklessness.

“He’s in Greenville Regional,” my mother’s voice crackled through the phone. “And those fuckin’ nurses won’t tell me shit. They think they’re so much better than me…”

I could imagine why. Norma-Jean didn’t know how to ask something tactfully. But I was past the point of relying on her for anything, including information.

“I need to go,” I said. “I have to see what’s going on.”

My mother huffed and started her typical spiel about how ungrateful I was that she’d raised us on her own. I disconnected the line and steadied my hand as I tried to type in Ryland’s name, but before I could, I saw his figure in the doorway.

“How long have you been there?” I asked.

“Long enough to know what that phone call was about.”

“Did you know?” I accused. “Did you already know about this?”

“I only found out five minutes ago myself,” he replied.

He just stood there. As if he had all the time in the world to relay this information.

“And?” I pushed.

“And as far as I know, he’s in critical but stable condition.”

“I have to go to him.” I thrust the chair backward as I stood. “I’m going now.”

A dark look passed over Ryland’s face, and it made my blood boil. I no longer cared what his issues were.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I walked up and shoved my hands against his chest. “He’s my brother. You told me he was your friend. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I swear I will slap that expression right off your face!”

He pinned my arms to the side to subdue me and crushed me against his chest.

“I know he’s your brother,” he whispered in my ear. “I wish he wasn’t, but I know he is.”

I pulled away from him and swiped at the angry tears that spilled from my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief. It broke my heart that anyone could hate Brayden so much.

“How can you talk like that?” I demanded. “He’s a good person. He didn’t even do anything to deserve this!”

“Didn’t he?” he asked in a hollow voice. “If that’s the case, then why did he plead guilty, Brighton? Have you ever stopped to consider that? Why he let the person who committed the crime walk away scot-free?”

I clamped my mouth shut as I processed his bitter words. He had a point. It was a question I’d asked myself a thousand times. But now that I knew Brayden wasn’t guilty, nothing else mattered. I knew his character. I knew what was in his heart, and he would never intentionally hurt anybody.

“What does any of that have to do with you?” I hissed. “Why do you care what Brayden did or didn’t do?”

His phone chimed, interrupting our conversation.

“Ted’s here to take you to the airport.”

He reached into his pocket and retrieved something before sliding it onto my wrist. A new GPS bracelet.

His fingers feathered over the metal while I scowled at him.

“Brighton?”

“What?” I snapped.

“Be careful.”

He released me with a pained expression. I hesitated only a moment before making my way into the house. I couldn’t think about Ryland right now. I couldn’t feel bad for him. But I did, and I didn’t even know why. But fuck him. Fuck him for always making me feel this way. Brayden was my main concern right now, and I wasn’t going to apologize for that.

I decided to bring the clothing I had with me, so I didn’t have to stop by my apartment. Ted was waiting in the parlor, taking the items off my hands as he ushered me to the car. I was thankful he understood my impatience in this situation, and that he moved as fast as he was able.

The drive back to San Francisco was beautiful, or so Ted said. But I didn’t see any of it. Only when we pulled up to the airport did I begin to relax.

Ted came around and opened my door, and when I stepped out of the car, there was a private jet awaiting our arrival.

“That’s not…”

I tripped over the words as Ted guided me up the steps and onto the plane.

“Mr. Bennett insisted you be taken to Illinois without delay,” he said. “And that I accompany you, should you need anything.”

I stared up at him blankly and wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary. But the more I thought about it, the more I was grateful for his presence. If only to know I wasn’t alone.

Chapter Nineteen

I tried to ignore the armed guard watching us interact and the silver glint of handcuffs every time Brayden moved his arm.

“It’s not so bad.” He managed a pained smile as I sniffled in the chair beside his bed. “You should see the other guy.”

I wasn’t in the mood for his sense of humor, and I let him know it too. He’d been beaten to a pulp, and he was lucky to be alive.

“I have to fix this,” I said, more to myself than to Brayden. “There has to be something…”

“Stop.”

Brayden’s tone brooked no argument. And when I looked into the depth of his brown eyes, I was shocked again by how much they’d hardened over the years. “There’s nothing you can do for me Brighton, except sit here and enjoy the time we have together right now. Is that too much to ask?”

I nodded, embarrassed I’d even mentioned it in front of him. It was against my agreement with Ryland to say anything in the first place, and this conversation could have come dangerously close with the mood I was in.

But Brayden was right. I was only allowed this one visit with him, something the guard informed me was normally against the rules in these circumstances. I suspected he’d been paid off, and there was only one guess as to who would have done that.

“They kicked mom out, you know,” Brayden offered up a change of subject.

“I know,” I groaned. “I saw her lurking in the parking lot on my way in. She was in a real lovely mood.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on her,” he said, staring out the window as his eyes glazed over.

“Really?” I bit back. “Have you seen her, Brayden? She looks like shit.

She’s knocking on death’s door. She’s as thin as a lamp post and half of her teeth are rotted out of her damn head.”

“I know,” he replied. “But that’s why she needs you. I can’t be there for her anymore, and I’m not asking you to move back or anything… but would it kill you to call her every once in a while?”

“Why should I?” I sniped. “When was she ever there for us?”

I didn’t know why I sounded so bitter. I’d never been this way before. But with everything else I had to worry about, Norma-Jean was no longer making the list. I couldn’t help those who didn’t want to help themselves.

“It wasn’t always like that,” he said quietly. “She had a rough go of it, Brighton. Things weren’t easy for her either…”

“Why are you defending her?” I asked. “You seem to remember a completely different childhood to the one I had. And you weren’t there these last five years as she spiraled down the rabbit hole. So don’t tell me how bad she had it.”

My words had hurt him, and immediately I regretted them.

“I’m sorry, Brayden.” I wiped my eyes and shook my head. “I’m tired and stressed, and I was worried sick about you.”

“I know.” He squeezed my hand in his. “And I’m sorry too. You’re right. I wasn’t there, and I guess I probably don’t know half of what went on after I got locked up. But I don’t want our family to fall apart before I can see the light of day again.”

This was the Brayden special. He could say something like that at the moment, and without even meaning to put a guilt trip on me.

“I’ll try to keep in better contact with her,” I promised.

Brayden nodded, and the guard stepped forward.

“Time’s up.” He glanced at his watch. “The nurse will be in soon.”

Brayden gave me a weak smile and remained strong while I leaned over and hugged him. The guard cleared his throat, and I shot him a dirty look before stepping backwards.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promised. “First thing.”

“Okay, Brighton. Take care of yourself.”

“It’s not goodbye,” I emphasized. “It’s see you later.”

“Alright then,” he agreed. “See you later.” *** When I walked back out of the hospital, Norma-Jean was waiting for me, ready to pounce. She paced back and forth in her cheap white heels, a cigarette hanging from her mouth as smoke billowed in the air around her.

She had been pretty once, but looking at her now it was hard to tell. Her

eyes had dulled to a stale shade of green while her skin had leathered and her hair turned to straw.

She cocked her head to the side and gave me a condescending smile as her eyes roamed over my clothing. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a pink cashmere sweater Ryland bought me, and suddenly, I wished I wasn’t.

“What’s with the clothes?”

“It was all I had on short notice,” I supplied.

“They look expensive,” she retorted, sniffing the air as though she could smell money rolling off of me. Norma-Jean had always turned up her nose at anything that looked expensive.

“Look, ma, do you want to know how Brayden’s doing or not?”

She narrowed her eyes at the term she hated, but I didn’t care. I was too tired for her antics.

“I already know,” she snapped. “Just cause’ you come in here looking all fancy, and they tell you, you think that makes you special? Well, guess what, I know my rights, and they have to tell me too. I’m his mother in case you forgot. You can change your clothes and the way you walk like you’re some big shot, but remember the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’ll come back here someday. Mark my words. And you’ll be as humble as all the rest of us little folks once you see how the world really works.”

I’d learned a long time ago it was better to pick my battles with Norma.

And usually, I wouldn’t have blinked twice at her tone or her snide remarks.

But today, it was the final straw. I was sick of her pushing me around. I was sick of everyone pushing me around. And so I opened my mouth and let all the vile hatred that I’d been storing up for two decades spew out.

“I’ll never be like you,” I snarled. “You’re a goddamned drunk and a drug addict, Norma. When are you going to get your shit together? It’s only been forty-six years. Isn’t that enough time to figure it out?”

I knew it was coming. I’d felt the weight of it plenty of times in my younger days. It still shocked me when her palm collided against the side of my cheek. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and I didn’t have to put up with this. To hell with what I’d promised Brayden, and to hell with her.

When I looked back up at the regret in her wrinkled face, I did feel sympathy for her. That was the way of an addict. They would lash out at the only people who could ever possibly love them, then feed their self-hatred with more of their chosen vice. It was a vicious cycle, one I doubted Norma-Jean would ever be able to break.

I didn’t need to punish her any more than she was already punishing herself. I simply needed to walk away. So that’s what I did.

But when I turned, I saw Ryland striding towards me. And by the set of his jaw, I was guessing he’d seen the whole interaction. His neck was corded, and his eyes flared with hatred as he stalked towards my mother.

I had to admit, it scared me a little. I’d never seen him so unhinged. So filled with rage. And I had to stop him before he did whatever that rage was telling him to.

I stepped into his path and pushed against his chest, feeling the weight of the muscle heaving with each ragged breath. He didn’t take his eyes off Norma-Jean, and I could sense the volatility growing with each passing moment.

“Ryland?” I grabbed his face and tilted it down towards mine so he could see me. “Hey, I’m okay. We’re okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

“What the hell are you doing with him, Brighton?” My mother’s voice accused from behind me.

How she even knew who Ryland Bennett was I couldn’t say. She’d probably seen him in a magazine and locked him up tight in her mental category of rich bastards she’d hate until the day she died.

“Leave, Norma,” I grated. “Please. You’ve done enough here today. Just go home.”

There was a beat of silence in which I made sure to hold Ryland’s gaze.

There was still a storm raging in his eyes, but whatever I was doing appeared to be helping, at least a little. Norma-Jean was still grumbling behind me but stopped the moment he spoke.

“If you ever touch her again, I will kill you myself.”

Everything around me went quiet, and I tried to see his menacing words for what they were. An empty threat. Norma didn’t respond well to threats, and I braced myself for her to come back with something equally nasty.

But instead, all I heard was the receding of her heels as they carried her away. I was officially dumbfounded.

Ryland pulled me into his arms and closed his eyes as he kissed my stinging cheek.

“Nobody hurts you like that,” he murmured. “Ever.”

“You do sometimes,” I reminded him in an effort to ease the tension.

“That’s different.” He grunted.

“Why?”

“Because you like it.”

I smiled and shook my head, and Ryland even smiled a little too.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered against him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be here,” he said. “For you. But then I saw what she did—” His rage was returning, so I tried to calm him.

“I can imagine how it must have looked to you,” I said. “But she’s an addict. And she is still my mother.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, he kissed me on the forehead and took me by the hand as he led me through the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Home,” he stated firmly. “As far away from this place as we can get.”

Chapter Twenty

The overwhelming exhaustion from my emotions had allowed me to sleep on the plane, but once we were back in Ryland’s house on Belvedere Island, I was wide awake.

He’d gone downstairs to order something for dinner while I paced back and forth across his bedroom. The idea of Brayden going back to prison was gnawing at me. I still had a little over three months of our agreement before Ryland would keep up his end of the bargain. But I couldn’t accept that. I needed to find a way to make him agree to speed up the process.

My brain worked overtime as I tried to come up with a solution. I could lay down the gauntlet and threaten Ryland with an ultimatum. Either he did this, or I walked away. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to walk away from him anymore, and that was the problem.

“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice carried from the doorway.

I walked up to him in three short steps and clung to his jacket as if it were my salvation.

“Please, Ryland,” I begged through bleary eyes. “There has to be a way. I’ll do anything, anything you want. You name it. I’ll finish out the six months, I swear I will… please. If you care about me at all…”

“I don’t care about you.”

He looked horrified by the idea, and I felt equally so by his reply.

My hands fell from his shirt, and I stumbled backwards as I stared up at the unfamiliar coldness in his eyes. I hadn’t seen it before. I hadn’t been able to see it. But this was it, this man standing before me. This was the emotionless monster who’d kept my brother in prison for all these years.

The man who had taken my virginity and been inside of me more times than I could count, and who now proclaimed to feel nothing for me. This was who I’d been dealing with all along.

My legs trembled as I made a beeline for the door. He didn’t try to stop me.

Tears tracked down my face as I bolted into the street and looked around at this place I didn’t recognize. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and called the only person I could think of.

*** When Matt pulled up in his truck, I stared at him in confusion as I climbed inside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nicole called me,” he said. “She doesn’t like to come out here.”

“Oh.” I gave him a weak smile. “Well, thanks for coming to get me.”

“No trouble at all,” he replied, pulling back onto the highway. “So I take it things with Mr. Bennett aren’t going too well, huh?”

I couldn’t even muster the energy it took to deny his accusation, so I stared out the window instead.

“Is it that obvious?”

“No,” he admitted. “But Ryland and I go back a ways. He wouldn’t want you to know that, though, so don’t say anything.”

This earned him my attention. “You’re friends with him?”

“Not exactly.” He kept his gaze forward. “I was friends with… well, we had a mutual friend. I’ve known him a long time.”

“What’s with all the secrecy?” I snapped. “Is everything in Ryland’s life this complicated?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitance. “And Brighton, I know I shouldn’t say anything. I really need this job, and he only gave it to me as a favor, but I think you should be careful with him.”

“Why?” I demanded. “I’m so sick of everyone talking in riddles all the time. Just tell me why, Matt.”

“I can’t.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “That’s all I can say.”

“Then why bother saying anything at all?” I argued. “And it’s not like I have a choice in the matter, anyway.”

“Don’t you?” he arched a brow at me in question.

I’d said too much, but did it even matter anymore? “No. I don’t. And that’s all I can say about that.”

Matt’s jaw tightened as he stared at the road before us, a tense quiet settling over the cab. I hated that things were so strained between all the people in my life right now. I was walking a tightrope, desperately trying to keep my balance. But one of these days, I was going to fall off.

“I’m hungry,” I stated. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

Matt looked over at me and grinned, taking his cue from me. “Well, that is one thing I can actually rectify.”

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to a dive bar. I gave him a curious look, and he laughed and shook his head.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “But they have the best burgers in San Fran, I swear.”

I didn’t argue as I climbed out of the truck and followed him inside. The clientele was more in keeping with the type of people I was used to being around anyway. I didn’t belong in Jaguars or Saks Fifth Avenue.

“Hey, sugar!” a cute brunette waitress greeted Matt as he grabbed us a booth. “It’s been a while. What can I get you?”

“Two of the regulars.” He gave her a wolfish grin that had her giggling as she walked away.

“Is that a thing?” I teased him.

“Hey, a man’s got to find some comfort somewhere.”

“I’m not judging,” I smirked. “But she doesn’t seem like your type.”

He shrugged. “And who is?”

“Hmm….” I drummed my fingers across the table and pretended to think it over for a minute. “I don’t know. Nicole, perhaps?”

A dark look passed over his features, and in an instant, his amusement was gone. “Nicole and I… that can never happen.”

The waitress appeared with our food, giving Matt an extra flirtatious smile before she sauntered away.

“That was fast,” I quipped.

“Don’t judge it by the speed.” He picked up his burger and waved it in front of his nose. “Judge it by the taste.”

I laughed as I brought it to my mouth and took a bite. Matt was right, it was the best burger I’d ever had. I finished it in record time and was a little embarrassed when I caught him watching me with a knowing smile.

“Well?”

“You win,” I admitted.

“What was that?” he put his hand to his ear. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

I rolled my eyes but indulged him. “I said you win.”

“One more time,” he insisted.

“You win!” I reached across the table and slugged his arm.

We both busted into a fit of laughter and forgot the tension of the day, at least for a moment. But as I wiped my eyes and told Matt how much I needed this, a shadow passed over his face. He jerked his chin behind me, and I turned to see Ryland standing there, listening to our conversation.

“Matthew.” He gave him a polite nod, but I didn’t miss the ticking of his jaw muscle as he stepped closer. “What a surprise to find you here.”

Matt looked from Ryland back to me as though he were debating his next words carefully. “We were just finishing up.”

“Good.” Ryland held out his hand for me. “Then you won’t mind if I take Brighton off your hands for the evening.”

“That’s up to Brighton,” Matt said in a low voice.

I stared at Ryland’s outstretched hand and debated the risks of making a spectacle. I didn’t want to go with him, but what choice did I have? Nothing had changed, except that he’d opened my eyes to the person he really was. I didn’t want to care about him, but it was too late for that. The only thing he cared about was the game, and no matter what, I was going to get hurt. But for Brayden, I would let Ryland rip out my heart and set it on fire.

I placed my limp hand in his palm, and he gave me a pained look at the certain misery written all over my face. I tore my eyes away from his, not allowing myself to fall back into that pattern. I wouldn’t let him convince me my emotions meant anything to him. I wouldn’t let myself believe I was anything more than a pawn.

“Thank you, Matt.” I gave him a thin smile.

“Anytime.” He nodded, his gaze meeting Ryland’s with a hint of protectiveness. “I’m always here if you need me.”

Ryland ushered me out the door and into a waiting black sedan parked at the curb. Ted was at the wheel, for which I was grateful because Ryland probably wouldn’t try to speak in front of him.

I stared out the window as we pulled onto the street, and Ryland placed a possessive hand upon my knee. I didn’t fight it, and I tried to ignore the warmth that lingered beneath his palm.

The ride was quiet, but my thoughts were loud. It was only when we’d pulled up to my apartment building that I gave him a questioning glance.

He didn’t say anything as he ushered me inside and into a waiting elevator the doorman held open for him.

The doors swallowed us up, and the button for the top floor was already lit up as we began our ascent.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He didn’t take his eyes off the doors. “To my place.”

“Of course you have a place here,” I scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you? It only makes sense that you have an apartment in the same building as me…”

My words were cut short when the elevator pinged, and Ryland dragged me out by the arm. I wanted to slap him, and instinctively I raised my arm.

Quicker than I even knew was possible, he pinned me up against the wall with both wrists dangling above me as he held me with the weight of his body. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes liquid pools of cobalt fire as his lips collided with mine.

I whined in protest for all of two seconds before my body responded to his.

This was our ritual. The only way we knew, and the thing we did best. We couldn’t share our lives with each other, so we shared our bodies instead.

His hands were everywhere, ripping and shredding my clothing as he tried to pull it free from my body. It was only then I realized my hands were threading through his hair, tugging as he kissed his way down my neck.

His touch was rough and feral, filled with possession that contradicted his words. I wanted to make sense of it, but in my hormone-fueled lust, I didn’t even care why. I clutched at his shirt, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction when I pulled and buttons scattered all over the floor. Ryland responded in kind by biting the side of my breast. I pulled his shirt down as far as I could get it and raked my nails over his back. He groaned and freed his erection from his pants.

His movements were eager, uncoordinated, unlike him. He couldn’t get inside of me fast enough. When he finally did, he slammed my back against the wall as he gripped my hips in his hands. I was at the mercy of his thrusts in this position, unable to do anything but hold on as he rocked into me with unrestrained power.

“I’m the one who makes you come.” His words were punctuated by thrusts.

“Always.”

“Yes,” I whimpered, clutching at his shoulders. “Please, Ryland…”

He clung to me, tasted me, breathed me in like I was his favorite addiction.

“I’m the only one,” he roared. “The only one who gets to be inside of you like this. The only one who ever will.”

More tears spilled from my eyes as I shook my head in vehement denial.

“I hate you!”

He laughed darkly as his thumb found my clit and worked it over in a way that made me buck against him wildly. It was too rough against my sensitive tissue, and yet my body reacted anyway, barreling me into an orgasm I didn’t even see coming.

“Don’t hate me so much now,” he mocked. “Do you?”

I wrapped my hand around his throat and squeezed. He groaned. But I didn’t want him to feel good. I didn’t want him to like what I was doing, so I hauled off and slapped him. Hard.

He froze inside of me, and his eyes raged as they bore into my own. I smiled.

I was punishing myself by pushing him, making him hurt me. But it was the only way I could survive this game.

He pulled me off of him and flipped me around, shoving my head towards the ground as he gripped my ass in his hands. I heard him tug his belt from his jeans before he kicked them away and looped the leather around my throat and pulled.

My back had to arch to accommodate air, and soon I was bent so far backward I was looking into his eyes. The tip of his cock nudged against my ass, and I tried not to let my fear show. The only time he’d ever taken me there before, he helped me warm up. But there would be no warming up this time.

He pushed inside of me, and I bit down so hard I tasted blood, but I didn’t make a sound. The leather bit into the sensitive skin around my throat as he pushed deeper and deeper.

“Is this what you want, baby girl?” he challenged. “You want me to hurt you?”

“I’m not your baby girl,” I rasped.

“You’re my anything I fucking want you to be,” he grunted, sliding all the way to the hilt.

My breath was ragged, and the only thing holding me up now were his hands and the leather. He was depriving me of air, but I refused to be the first to give. I refused to show him weakness.

His palm came down so hard on my ass it made me squeal in shock.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he rasped, rolling his cock around inside of me.

“Never.”

“Goddammit, Brighton.” He slapped my other ass cheek.

Spots filled my vision, and if I didn’t relent soon, I was going to pass out.

But I didn’t care. I wanted to win at least one round with him.

“You created this monster,” I croaked.

My eyes fluttered shut, and Ryland tossed away the belt. I dragged in a breath as he carried me to the dining room table and laid me on it.

His body covered mine, and he entered me in one deep thrust as his lips found my neck. I moaned when he licked and bit at me, and it only made his thrusts more savage.

When I opened my eyes, the raw power of his body moving above me was a beautiful thing. He was so strong. So fucking strong. But even now, he wouldn’t really hurt me. Not even when I pushed him.

“Harder,” I encouraged.

He gripped my hips in his hands and thrust harder. So hard I thought I might drown beneath the weight of his thrusts. Right now, he was no longer a man. He was an animal.

“Tell me that you’re mine,” he grunted.

He was getting close. I could hear it in his voice. See it in the strain of his biceps. But he wouldn’t let himself go. Not until I gave him what he wanted. And that was where my weakness lay. Because I always wanted to give him what he wanted.

“I’m yours,” I whispered. “Only yours, Ryland.”

The words had barely left my lips when he pulled out and pumped his glistening cock in his fist. A guttural roar escaped him as he spilled his release across my belly and breasts, marking me in a completely different way.

Then he was back inside of me, petting my hair as he continued to pump slowly. It was obvious he didn’t want to leave the warmth of my body.

His eyes burned into mine, the fire gone out of them, and the coldness too.

All that was left was regret and something else I didn’t recognize in him.

Vulnerability.

He picked me up and carried me down the hall to a master bathroom, where he set me on the sink while he turned on the shower. He removed whatever scraps of clothing we still had on between us, brushing his fingers over my collarbone and neck. I didn’t have to see them to know they were red.

Once the water heated and the room was steamy, he picked me up and moved us inside. He found a place for us on the stone ledge built into the shower, setting me in his lap. I didn’t fight him. Instead, I leaned my head against. Even now, after everything that had happened between us, my heart still echoed his.

There was a vast silence between us for a long time, but I was too tired to question it. I welcomed the silence, the chaos of a situation not yet rectified.

My eyelids were beginning to droop when he finally broke it.

“You’ve never laughed like that with me.”

I blinked up at him, feeling the familiar pull of gravity towards the depths of those blue eyes, no matter how much I tried to fight it.

“With Matt,” he supplied. “The way you were laughing with him tonight.

You’ve never done that with me.”

His voice was hoarse and unable to conceal the emotions he was so good at keeping in check. There were tears in my own eyes as I spoke.

“How could I, Ryland? You’ve never given me a chance. Everything’s been about the game to you. About the agreement. You’re blackmailing me into a relationship, and you seriously have to question why you’ve never seen me relax around you? My brother’s life is at stake here…”

“I know,” he cut me off. “But how do I know you’ll keep your word if I give you what you want. How can I be certain?”

He looked so much like a small boy as he asked the question, it finally dawned on me what he really needed from me. My assurance I wasn’t going to leave. But there was doubt in his eyes. He doubted I’d be able to convince him.

I didn’t even have to try. I flayed myself wide open and spoke from my heart, allowing my real emotions to shine through.

“Because,” I said shakily… “For better or worse, I’m in love with you, Ryland.”

His hands tightened around my body as his eyes skimmed over every inch of my face, no doubt looking for tells.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I went on. “I fought it, as much as I could.

I shouldn’t love you. But I do. And so that’s how you know for certain I’ll keep my word. Because I couldn’t walk away from you for good right now even if I wanted to.”

He tilted my chin up and kissed me. It was soft but passionate, and it said all I’d needed to know. He believed me. He accepted my words, and he trusted me. At least for right now.

Chapter Twenty-One

I woke with a groan, stretching out the sore and overworked muscles of my body from the night before. Ryland was beside me, stroking his hand over my hip while his eyes drank in my naked form. He looked oddly at peace, considering the war that had been waged between us the night before.

He didn’t speak. He simply rolled me onto my back and positioned his body over mine, pushing inside of me in a way that was new and unexpected.

Gentle. Unhurried.

The sun filtered in through the window, highlighting the beautiful lines of his body as he moved above me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and now that I’d revealed the truth, I didn’t feel the need to. I kissed his neck, inhaling the faint notes of Amber and Cinnamon he now wore all the time. I wondered if it was because he knew how much I loved it.

He brought me to orgasm twice before taking his own. When he collapsed beside me and threaded his fingers through mine, I didn’t want it to be over.

Because if it was over that meant we’d have to talk. To discuss the one thing that was big enough to tear us apart. The issue of my family. Of Brayden.

As though sensing my withdrawal, he kissed me softly and moved from the bed, retrieving some clean clothes from the dresser across the room. He walked towards the bathroom and glanced over his shoulder, pausing as he struggled to find the right words.

“I left something there for you.” He nodded to the bedside table.

The door closed behind him, and I picked up the tablet beside me. When I saw my brother’s name typed into the search box, and the results that followed, my breath stuttered in my chest.

I almost didn’t want to believe it was real. It was easier to think this was some sort of cruel trick than the truth. But as I clicked on article after article, they all said the same thing.

Shocking new evidence in the Valentine Murder case. The State’s Attorney of Cook County released a statement at seven am this morning. The details are being kept under wraps, but he confirmed there is new evidence being considered.

The news outlets were rife with speculation about what this could mean, and there was only one man with the power to move things this fast.

Tears clogged my eyes when I understood why Ryland had left me so abruptly. It was a test. He wanted to see if I’d meant what I said. If now that the evidence was turned over, I would fulfill my end of the bargain.

I dropped the tablet on the bed and padded into the bathroom. When I opened the shower door, he gave me a wary look before I bounded into his arms.

“Ryland, what you’ve just done…”

“This doesn’t change anything, Brighton,” he cut me off. “You belong to me now. Regardless of what happens with Brayden.”

I chose to ignore the biting tone of his voice as I nuzzled against his chest.

“I know,” I whispered. “I’m yours, Ryland.” *** I smoothed the silky black material through my fingers as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

“Does it look… okay?”

“It looks like I want to tear it off of you right now,” he murmured into my hair as he smoothed his hand up my side.

“Yeah right. I know how much this dress cost,” I retorted.

It was the real reason I was uncomfortable. I’d never worn anything this expensive in my life. But if I was being honest, it was the sexiest dress I’d ever seen. Elegant and simple, with the added bonus of making my legs look long for the first time in my life. The material clung to my body in a way that with just the right touch, it would slide off of me like butter. There was sex appeal in that, and I could certainly see it reflected in Ryland’s eyes as his hands roamed over me.

“Do you think I give a fuck about that?” he asked. “You belong to me now, baby girl. And I take care of what’s mine.”

I flashed him a nervous smile as my knees wobbled beneath me. When he said those words, it sounded like this was a permanent arrangement in his mind. And yet, he couldn’t admit he had feelings for me. As happy as I was about Brayden, I kept feeling like I was missing something. A larger part of the puzzle. Ryland still hadn’t revealed his reasons for doing what he’d

done, and when I thought about it, it all seemed too easy. Like I’d played right into his hands somehow. I didn’t like to think that way, but what choice did I have?

As though he could sense my mind wandering into dangerous territory, Ryland distracted me by dragging his fingertips up my spine.

“This is my favorite part,” he confessed.

“It’s a beautiful dress,” I admitted. “I can only imagine how much trouble you went through to get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I may be from a lower class,” I quipped. “But even I know this is one of the best designers in Spain.”

He arched an eyebrow at me, and I smiled at the surprise that lay beneath the surface of those blue depths.

“I guess you don’t know everything about me after all, Ryland Bennett.

Like my weakness for fashion.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I didn’t know that before. But now that I do, I’ll be certain to put it to good use.”

“You can’t,” I let the words fall from my mouth in a moment of rare honesty.

“Brighton…” His voice held a hint of warning, and I smiled at him. He thought I was being modest, but he had no idea.

“I do like fashion,” I explained. “But not because I want to own nice pieces, even though they are lovely…”

My words trailed off as I tried to find the courage to finish. Revealing such a childish dream to someone as successful as Ryland was ridiculous now that I thought about it. I wished I’d never said anything at all.

“Tell me,” he breathed against my throat.

I closed my eyes and relaxed into his warmth, allowing the words to spill free.

“I like to sew them,” I explained. “Unique pieces, I mean.”

“You know how to sew?” he sounded genuinely perplexed as he spun me around and studied my face.

“Well, I didn’t for a long time,” I admitted. “But one of our neighbors did.

Mrs. Wilson. She was a cranky old lady that I convinced to teach me.”

“And how did you do that?” Ryland asked.

“She agreed to let me cook her meals twice a week in exchange for some sewing lessons,” I explained. “It wasn’t a great offer since I wasn’t a very a

good cook. But she still taught me anyway, and I got pretty good at it.”

Ryland let out a hearty laugh that shocked me, and pretty soon I was laughing too.

“You surprise me sometimes,” he said. “A lot actually.”

I smiled, but his rare moment of honesty was dimmed by the darkness taking over his features again.

“So what happened with the sewing?” he asked. “Do you still do it?”

I shrugged and cast my eyes to the floor. “I sewed a few prom dresses every year for some of the locals, until Brayden’s… well, until, you know.

Naively I thought it was something I could really do. It was how I stayed sane I guess, dreaming of creating my own designs and doing what I loved.”

“You still could,” Ryland said softly. “You’re only twenty-one, Brighton.

You still have your whole life ahead of you.”

I shook my head and gave him a weak smile. “Those kinds of dreams are for people who don’t have to face reality,” I replied.

For the first time since I’d known him, Ryland actually looked guilty. Was it because he thought he was helping to destroy my dreams? If that was the case, it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The truth was I was too much of a coward to go after a dream that big. Every time I’d even considered it, I would hear Norma-Jean’s voice inside of my head. She’d tell me that kind of stuff was for rich kids who didn’t have to work. And though I never liked to give her credit, I knew she was right.

“Here.”

Ryland walked around in front of me and handed me another one of his signature red flowers. I twirled the stem in my fingers and brought it to my nose, inhaling the subtle fragrance.

“Why always these flowers?” I asked.

He smiled as though he’d been expecting this question and trailed his fingertips over the delicate petals.

“Do you know what the lotus symbolizes?”

“Not really,” I answered. “But I know they grow in mud, right?”

“Yes.” He moved his fingertips to my face, his eyes lingering on mine while he explained. “They grow from the most unexpected of places, and for that reason, many cultures regard them as a symbol of purity and beauty. It was the same thing I thought the first time I saw you.”

“You did?” I blinked in surprise.

“It was unexpected,” he admitted. “To see a girl like you in that place. From that family. So pure and kind and innocent. I didn’t think it could be real, but you’ve proven me wrong, Brighton. You prove me wrong every day.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ryland took me to a private club that was all the rage in the financial district. The entire place was decked out in rich black leather and deep shades of crimson. It screamed of exclusivity. One foot in the door and I could practically smell the money rolling off of these suits.

The club was cordoned off into separate areas that included a cigar bar and a curtained area called the dark room. I didn’t even want to guess what was behind that one and was grateful when Ryland led me straight past it.

Every pair of eyes in the room fell on us as we walked by, and my skin burned under the weight of their shrewd appraisals. Curt nods were given by other men I assumed were business associates. But it was the women that I noticed. While Ryland’s place in society was always present in the back of my mind, it was easy to forget when he was with me. But here now, in this room where women looked at him as though he were a piece of meat, I couldn’t forget. They blushed from head to toe if Ryland even deigned to smile at them as we walked by.

My body grew tight, and I wanted to ask him why he’d ever brought me to such a place. It was clear not only to me but to everyone else in here I didn’t belong.

“All of their eyes are on you,” he remarked.

I met the inappropriate gaze of several women as they sized him up and tightened my grip on his hand. Suddenly I found myself feeling very possessive of him.

Ryland’s eyes danced with amusement as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“I like it when you’re greedy.”

I shot him a glare, and he led me to a podium in the back, where a woman with a classy black pant suit greeted us. At least she had the decency not to stare.

“Mr. Bennett, Miss Valentine, how lovely of you to join us this evening. I have a private room for you right this way.”

I arched a brow at Ryland as we followed behind her, hand in hand. She led us to a private lounge area that was completely enclosed in red velvet

curtains.

She held them open as Ryland thanked her, pulling me inside along with him.

“I’ve set up the bar as per your request,” she finished off pleasantly. “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

“No, thank you,” He replied. “Just see that we’re not disturbed for the rest of the evening.”

She smiled and bowed out. “As you wish.”

Once the curtain closed, soft mood lighting and a sense of calm enveloped me. I settled onto the chaise against the wall, allowing my eyes to wander over the room while Ryland removed his jacket and tie.

Laid out on the table was an impressive spread of appetizers and desserts, complete with a chilled bottle of champagne. And even though we’d already eaten dinner, I couldn’t stop eyeing the chocolate confections that were temptingly within reach.

“You brought me here to have a private room with me?” I asked. “Doesn’t make much sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” He took a seat beside me and uncorked the champagne like a pro. “I wanted to take you out, but I also wanted to have some privacy. This seemed like a good compromise.”

I chewed on my lip as he poured each of us a glass of champagne. It was a nice gesture, but it was still out of character. And being the woman that I was, I couldn’t accept it without asking the nagging question that lingered in my mind.

“But why did you want to bring me here?” I emphasized.

His fingers flirted with the stem of his glass, distracting me for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a little over the top,” I said quietly. “It seems like a big romantic gesture. Something a man would do for his girlfriend, not his… well, whatever we are.”

He leaned back and stretched his arm across the chaise to tease the skin along my neck. “You are my girlfriend.”

“Am I?” I asked in confusion. “Because I don’t think we’ve ever established that.”

“It was implied,” he argued. “When I say that you belong to me Brighton, it isn’t for show.”

“It was implied we had an agreement,” I said. “Not a relationship.”

Ryland frowned as he sat back and mulled over my words. “I can see how you might think that. But in my mind, there has never been any question.”

“Well, there has to be a question,” I persisted. “You never even asked me, Ryland. You assuming doesn’t make it so. You haven’t even told me how you feel about me.”

Ryland leaned forward and tugged me into his lap. “Is that what this is about? You want to know how I feel about you?”

I shrugged like it didn’t really matter. We both knew that it did, though.

“The last thing you said on the subject wasn’t exactly nice.”

There was a long pause of silence that threatened to swallow me whole.

Ryland continued to touch me, stroking my back and kissing my neck. And despite my need for his assurances, my body was melting beneath his hands. He knew it too, this power he held over me.

He needed only to touch me to remind me. Or to look at me with the lust that ran thick through his blood. One word uttered in the warmth of his voice, and I was irrevocably his. He owned me, and he knew it. Did it ever matter what his feelings were? I was doomed to love him regardless.

“I can’t tell you the things you want to hear,” he said finally. “I could give you a thousand pretty words, but they wouldn’t change anything. I’m not your hero. I’m not the man you want me to be, and someday soon, you’ll understand that. You will loathe me, and I won’t blame you. But even then, I doubt I’ll be able to let you go. Our feelings are irrelevant, and that’s the truth. But the fact that I want you so much should tell you how I feel about you, baby girl. I waited five years for you.”

My eyes were glassy, and I hated it. Hated that he always managed to make me feel like this was a hopeless situation. Like everything was a riddle to him.

“What do you mean you waited five years?” I croaked.

His fingers traced the line of my collarbone, dipping beneath the silky material of my dress and allowing it to fall off the slope of my shoulder. It hung precariously by the stiffened peak of my nipple, and Ryland skimmed it with his thumb as he spoke.

“I wanted you to have a chance to experience life,” he said. “Life before me.”

“You make it sound like you’re ruining my life,” I joked.

He didn’t laugh.

He traced along the opposite collarbone, pushing the material off the other slope of my shoulder. Again, the material sagged until it caught on my nipple, allowing the swells of my breasts to be seen with each heavy breath.

“You have the most beautiful skin,” he murmured against me. “A perfect canvas, just like you said that first day in my office.”

As if to prove his point, he dragged his teeth down my neck, sucking and nipping at me until I was clutching his hair in my hands. “You tease me with every blush, every smile, every innocent look on your face.”

His hand slipped inside the top of my dress, playing with my erect nipples before he gave up and pulled the material down around my waist.

“Someone might come in here,” I whimpered.

“So let them.” He captured my nipple between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. “Let them see me fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet. It would be my pleasure to make every man in here covet what belongs to me.”

His words drenched me, and he knew it. He slipped his other hand beneath my dress, coaxing his way up my thigh with strong, warm fingers. When they slid beneath my lace thong, he had to peel the fabric away from my skin.

He stuffed me full of his fingers with a groan as he continued to milk my breast with his mouth.

“I’m going to make you come so hard you scream,” he threatened.

I clutched at his neck, not wanting to believe the conviction in his voice.

But when he adjusted my pelvis and crooked his fingers, he hit the same sweet spot he knew I couldn’t resist. He slammed his fingers in and out of me roughly, the sounds of wet slapping noises echoing off the walls of the room.

I was too aroused to be embarrassed, and I bit into his shoulder to keep the noises at bay while I jerked in his arms.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praised me. “Come hard for me. Fucking drench me.”

His words shocked and excited me, and I wanted to give him what he asked for. I didn’t even know if my body was capable of such a thing, but Ryland did.

He thrust his fingers in and out in a rhythm perfectly synchronized to induce my loss of self-control. The burn that resided in my belly zipped its

way down through my core and into the deep muscles of my womb. When that release exploded out of me, it did so with a gush of wetness.

The intensity of it blindsided me, and I couldn’t even open my eyes until the ringing in my ears had subsided. Somewhere in the depths of my madness, I was certain I’d screamed, just as he promised.

When I came back down, I saw that Ryland had his cock in his fist, stroking it roughly while he watched me. His hand still glistened from my arousal, and a blush spread across my cheeks that made him growl.

He gave me a savage kiss before flipping me onto my knees. He peeled my hands out from beneath me and curled them around the back of the lounge.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, gripping my hips as he adjusted himself behind me.

He smeared my arousal over his cock and glided it against my folds, teasing the swollen flesh as he eased just the head of himself inside.

“How is it possible?” he groaned. “How do you get so wet for a monster like me?”

“You’re not a monster,” I protested, my knuckles white as I waited for what I needed. For him to fill me. Complete me.

He buried himself inside of me in one deep stroke, and I let out a soft mew as I tried to hold still.

“Oh but I am,” he growled, gripping a handful of my hair in his hand and tugging on it. “I want to hurt you. I want to do all sorts of depraved things to you, Brighton. Simply because I can.”

He was trying to push me away again. But I wasn’t going to let him.

“I like the depraved things you do to me,” I whispered. “I like the way you fuck me.”

“Good,” he snarled. “Because right now, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”

I whimpered as he slammed into me, nearly making my body crumple upon the impact.

“Harder,” I challenged.

Ryland grunted and pulled my arms behind my back. He gripped me by the chin as every thrust reverberated through my entire body. His hand threaded through my hair, twisting my neck until his mouth could claim mine.

“Is that hard enough for you?” he nipped at my lip.

“More…” I insisted. “Do every dark thing you say you want to,” I implored. “I want to give it all to you.”

His cock pulsed inside of me at my words and his hands tugged on each of my nipples in response.

“Anything I want?” he questioned.

“Yes!” “So if I were to walk out there and bring another woman in here…”

I jerked away from him and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

“Fuck you!” I spat. “Fuck you, Ryland!”

He pulled me back into his arms with a hungry smile. “That’s what I want,” he soothed me with a kiss. “That possession, that fire. Knowing you would never share me with anyone else gets me harder than you could ever imagine, Brighton.”

As if to prove his point, he wrapped my hand around his cock, allowing me to feel the weight of his arousal. I stroked him several times over, even though I was still pissed about his little comment.

“Don’t ever say anything like that again,” I warned. “I won’t share you, Ryland, so if you ever get even the faintest idea…”

His lips smashed into mine desperately. He lifted me up in his arms like a limp ragdoll and threw my legs over his forearms, entering me in one thrust.

My body nearly folded in half as he proceeded to fuck me.

“I don’t want anybody else but you,” he grunted. “Nobody else but you, Brighton.”

As the sentence left his mouth, he exploded inside of me, milking his release out over the course of several deep thrusts.

He set me back down on the couch, handing me some napkins to clean myself before he attended to himself. I did so quickly before trying to right the mess that was now my expensive dress. Ryland helped, smoothing the material back up over my breasts with a relaxed expression on his face.

I leaned forward and took a sip of my champagne while I finger combed my hair back into place.

“Are you upset with me?” he leaned back against the sofa and watched me carefully.

I turned towards him and shook my head. It probably wasn’t as convincing as I’d hoped. I didn’t like the spark of jealousy I felt when I thought about him wanting anyone else, but I couldn’t control it either.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I obeyed him without question. It was becoming a habit.

Once I was close enough, he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “I like to push you. To see the darkness that’s inside of you too.”

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” I admitted. “It confuses me sometimes.”

“Because you shouldn’t feel this way about me,” he supplied.

I shrugged because it was the truth. I shouldn’t feel this way about him.

Based on the secrets that founded this bond, I feared it would all come toppling down around me any day now. Just as he kept trying to tell me.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he replied, “I never intended to feel anything about you either, Brighton.”

“So it was only about the agreement to you.” My voice was heavy with defeat.

“Five years ago, yes. But not now. Not since the first time I slid inside of you, claiming you as my own. I think about it all the time. About that moment.”

“You do?” I looked up at him in surprise.

“Of course,” he continued. “When you’re not with me, and I’m left to my own devices, what else am I supposed to do? When you told me you wished it was me…. God, I’ve rubbed myself raw replaying that moment in my mind.”

“You think of me when you pleasure yourself?” I asked.

“Of course I do.” He shot me an impish look. “I think about the way your perfect tits fit into the palms of my hands or the way your hair spills down your back when I’m fucking you from behind. How tight your ass was the first time I took you there. The marks I left on your back, I think about those all the time, baby girl. All. The. Fucking. Time.”

His voice grew more excited as he spoke, and my heart did a little flip in my chest.

“What do you think about?” he asked.

I tried to look away, but he turned my chin back towards him.

“Sometimes, I think about the first time you… went down on me. I never thought I would enjoy something like that, it felt so strange…”

A smug grin tugged at his lips, and he kissed me again as his fingers trailed down my cheek. “I love your innocence.”

“So you’ve said,” I retorted.

“Are you hungry?”

I smiled. “I am now.”

“Good. Because I have a craving for something sweet.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

When we finally stood up to leave, I’d tasted more dessert than I cared to remember.

Ryland ushered me towards the front door, looking as well put together as we came. I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes this time, secretly wondering if they’d all heard our escapades inside the private room.

When we stepped onto the curb, confusion hit me when the blinding light went off in my face. But after it happened several more times, I recognized it as the flash of cameras. A group of paparazzi swarmed us as Ryland pulled me against his side, asking question after endless question.

I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying, but Ryland wasn’t ruffled in the slightest as he fired off several responses. I heard my name, and the term girlfriend thrown in alongside it.

The valet pulled up in his Jaguar, and Ryland safely deposited me inside before he climbed into the driver’s seat.

When we pulled away from the curb, I turned towards him in disbelief.

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” he asked shamelessly.

“You set that up!”

“So what if I did?” he shrugged. “I want the world to know that you belong to me now.”

“You mean you want my family to know,” I said. “You want Brayden to know. Now that he’s getting out.”

He shot me a look that told me I was dead on. The familiar jealousy and resentment that always lingered whenever I mentioned Brayden’s name flared in his eyes.

“Take me back to my apartment,” I demanded.

He looked as if he didn’t understand what the problem was, infuriating me further.

“That’s not our agreement…” he stated flatly.

“I don’t care. You can’t just do stuff like this without talking to me. You say you want a relationship with me, but that would require you to care about how I feel.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” he said.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it right now. I don’t even know which way is up with you anymore. One minute you’re pushing me away, and the next you’re trying to pull me back. I just… I need a night to myself. Can you let me have that, please?”

Ryland clamped his mouth shut and left me to stew in my anger and confusion for the rest of the drive. I didn’t understand why things always had to be this way with him. Why he hated Brayden so much, or how I could even allow myself to care for someone who felt that way about my brother.

When he escorted me to the door, I paused in front of it, unsure what else to say.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” I assured him.

“Are you ashamed of me?” he asked. “Is that it?”

There was anger in his voice, but vulnerability in his eyes.

“Ryland…”

“You said it yourself,” he interrupted. “You know you shouldn’t feel this way about me. Is that why you don’t want people to know?”

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know,” I softened my tone, taking a step closer and wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s that I’d like the chance to explain first before you go and do something like this. Why on earth would I ever be ashamed of you? If anything, it’s you who should be ashamed of me.”

“Don’t ever say that,” he snapped. “You’re perfect.”

He smoothed his palm over my cheek, his blue eyes growing cloudy as he searched my face.

“Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “This is the path I set out for myself, but I know I’m hurting you…”

I glanced up at him, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. But he stopped himself short and pulled away.

“I think you’re right,” he said. “It would be better if we spent the night apart.”

When the words were reversed on me, I could see how much they stung, even if that wasn’t his intention. It was my idea, but now there was distance between us, and I didn’t like it. I thought he was on the verge of confessing the truth to me, and now he was withdrawing back into himself.

“Ryland…” I reached for him, but he walked away.

“Get some sleep, Brighton,” he said. “I’ll see you at work.” *** “This is insane,” I sobbed, pacing back and forth across the living room.

My shaky hands scoured through page after endless page of photographs from the night before.

Photographs of Ryland and I in our ‘private room’ at the members-only club. Of me sitting on his lap while he fed me chocolate cake. Of our lips locked in a tangle of passion. And the worst, of me half-naked in his arms while he caressed my body. They’d blurred them out for the public, but it didn’t change the fact that someone was watching us while we were in there.

The banging on the front door resumed, and Nicole looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown from the stress. When she’d heard Ryland demanding to speak to me, she didn’t even register surprise. But she did seem to be worrying herself sick at the rising anger in his voice.

“I don’t think I can hold him off much longer,” she eyed the entryway wearily.

“It’s fine, Nicole,” I said. “I’ll tell him myself.”

I stomped over to the door and edged it open, careful to show I had no intention of inviting him in. But true to Ryland’s nature, he barged in anyway, crushing me against his chest as I tried to fight him off.

“I didn’t do this,” he swore. “Those photos were from a member, and as soon as I find out who…”

“I don’t give a shit!” I pulled away from him. “This is your fault! I’m half naked on every gossip rag from here to New York, and it’s all because of you.”

He flinched at my words and sank onto one of the barstools in the kitchen.

Now that I looked at him, I could see how upset he really was. All morning I’d been thinking this only affected me. That Ryland wouldn’t care. But it was there on his face. The guilt weighed heavily on him, and I’d never seen him look so lost.

Deep down, I knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t arranged for it to go this far. The articles stated clear as day the source was another member of the club. And if I was being honest with myself, I could have stopped him last

night. But I chose to fool around in a public place, and now I was paying the consequences.

Seeing my weakness, he reached out and held his hand towards me, imploring me to take it. The moment my fingers touched his, he pulled me against him, laying his head on my belly as he circled his arms around my waist.

“I would never intentionally let anyone see you that way,” he declared.

“You have to believe that, baby girl.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But what’s done is done. I won’t even be able to show my face at work again. God, what am I going to do?”

“I’m taking care of the situation,” he assured me. “I have my lawyers handling everything. They are going to get those photos back. No matter what it costs. And you don’t have to come back to the office. I will take care of you, whatever you need.”

His words surprised me, and for a moment I tried to see the hidden motivation behind his offer. But I was so sick of playing this game. Of constantly trying to see the truth behind all the walls he erected to keep me out. And I was much too proud of a person to take him up on that offer anyway.

“I can’t do that.” I shook my head miserably. “I need to work, but this is just so humiliating.”

“Nobody’s going to say anything to you,” Nicole spoke from behind me.

“I’ll make sure of it, Brighton.” *** Nicole offered to take me to her yoga class that evening, claiming it would help soothe my frazzled nerves. Between that and the bottle of wine we drank when we stopped for dinner on the way home, it kind of did.

The minute we got back to the apartment, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Ryland, looking even more exhausted than he was this morning. His usually perfect hair was messy, and even his shirt was wrinkled. He’d been battling with the media all day.

“I know you probably want to spend the night alone,” he said softly. “But I wanted to show you something.”

I took his outstretched hand without a fight. “What is it?”

“It’s in my apartment.”

I followed him down the hall and onto the elevator, sensing his nerves growing with each floor we passed. When we arrived at his door, he led me inside and straight towards one of the spare bedrooms.

“This isn’t me trying to fix things,” he said, “but if it helps, then I’m okay with that.”

“What are you talking about?”

He pushed open the door and ushered me inside, his entire body tensing as I took in the sight before me.

Stacked against one of the walls were rows of shelving that had been custom built. Swatches and entire rolls of different colored fabrics burst from every storage bin and cupboard as far as the eye could see.

As if drawn to them by a magnet, I walked over and ran my hands along the different textures of silks and polyesters, cottons and rayons. Top of the line shears and measuring tools adorned the desk in front of me, along with patterns of every imaginable type. Books and DVDS, magazines and fashion show swag. The room had it all.

And right smack dab in the middle of it was a vintage Singer 201. I trembled as I reached out to touch it. It was so beautiful it could even give Ryland’s Jaguar a run for its money.

“Do you like it?”

I glanced up and watched the tension drain from his face when a smile broke out across mine.

“Are you kidding me? This is amazing. Where did you even find one of these?”

“It’s an… heirloom,” he said quietly. “But I thought you would put it to good use.”

“Ryland…” Tears blurred my eyes, and I couldn’t stop a few from leaking out. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” He took a step towards me. “I’d like you to spend more time here.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Ideally, you’d be in my bed every night,” he said. “And this way you have a place here that feels like your own.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” My voice was weird. Super high pitched and squeaky.

“Yes.” He stepped closer.

“So this is part of the agreement?” I clarified.

“Technically, no.” He brought my hand to his face and splayed it across his cheek. “I’d like you to want to be here if that’s possible.”

There was that vulnerability again. I chewed my lip while I started to pace around the room. I didn’t understand him. How could he want these things with me, but not admit how he felt? It was confusing, and after the day I’d had, it was too much. Still, I couldn’t say I wasn’t tempted by the offer.

“You do realize how messy I am, right?”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed. “I’ve seen the way you like things, Ryland. Everything has its perfect little place. This sewing room, my space, it won’t be like that. I’m not joking. I will probably drive you crazy."

“You already do.” His lips tilted up at the corners. “But the messes don’t bother me when they’re yours. It makes the place feel… lived in.”

I continued to pace until he pulled me back into his arms with a sigh.

“You don’t have to decide today,” he relented. “But think about it.”

“Wow.” I smiled. “Who are you and what have you done with Ryland?”

He smiled too, and some of the tension between us broke as he kissed me on the temple.

“I’m trying,” he said. “For you.” *** I ended up taking a week off. It wasn’t my original plan, but when the process for Brayden’s exoneration picked up momentum, I stayed glued to Ryland’s tablet waiting for google alerts. The only articles I could find stated there was new evidence being reviewed, along with a new witness testimony. The press wouldn’t release the name of the witness which I found strange.

The biggest question surrounded the fact that the car Brayden had supposedly been driving was registered to a known drug dealer by the name of Steven Arnett. The police had never been able to track him down, and it was always presumed that he’d skipped town when the news broke.

There were questions as to whether he could have been responsible, somehow convincing a young boy to take the fall for him. One article speculated that Brayden worked for the man and he was terrified for his

life. Some of the stories were good, and it gave me a little hope. But there was still a lot of doubt in the eyes of public opinion.

When I thought about it, I still couldn’t make sense of it myself. Why would Brayden ever take the fall for a drug-dealer? He’d never touch the stuff, so it didn’t add up. But in the months before the accident, his behavior had been a little odd. Norma-Jean was freaking out and acting like a mother for a change, actually worrying about him. Neither one of them would ever tell me what was going on, though. It was the same story with everyone in my life, and it was a difficult pill to swallow. Because no matter how much my relationship with Ryland evolved, there were still secrets he was hiding.

On Wednesday, when he told me he had to fly out on business for a couple days, I grew even more suspicious. He didn’t look altogether pleased about whatever he had to do. When I tried to question him, he insisted I have the rest of the week off work and get some rest. But by Friday any new information on Brayden had trickled down to nothing. When I asked Ryland about it upon his return, he said it was in the court’s hands, but it was only a matter of time now. He was confident, but I wasn’t.

When I returned to work on Monday, I had a sea of emails and voice messages to sort through. As I played them all back and jotted down notes, I could understand Stacey’s need for a caffeine drip. I was exhausted already and feeling picky about what was important. There was a message from the doctor Ryland had chosen for me. She was saying something about a follow-up appointment, but I didn't hear a word. Because when I caught sight of a man barging past, I did a double take when I saw his face, certain I must be delusional.

“Brayden?” I hung up the phone immediately.

“I’m not here to see you,” he snarled, forging towards Ryland’s office with a purpose.

I flung my chair back and chased after him, nearly toppling over in my heels as I rounded the corner. I was fast, but I wasn’t as fast as him.

I burst into Ryland’s office, just in time to see the surprise on his face as Brayden barreled around his desk. Ryland stood up, only to be met with Brayden’s fist across his jaw.

I’d seen Brayden’s fist knock other men out cold, but Ryland didn’t even flinch from the pain or the bloody lip he’d inflicted. He wiped it across his sleeve with a look of disgust and took a menacing step forward.

“You son of a bitch!” Brayden drew back his arm again.

Ryland wore a malicious smile that scared me, and I needed to act fast. I inserted myself in the middle of them and slammed my hands against Brayden’s chest, shoving him backwards.

“Stop it!” I screamed. “Just stop it. What the hell are you doing, Brayden?”

“No, what the hell are you doing?” his voice was filled with disgust. “How could you sleep with this bastard?”

“Because I love him,” I bit back. “And who I do, or do not sleep with is none of your business. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“No, you certainly aren’t,” he sneered. “I don’t even recognize you. NormaJean was right, you’ve given up on this family.”

His words shocked and infuriated me, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and slapped him.

“How dare you put that on me?” I snapped. “You have no idea what I’ve had to do these last five years. You have no idea what I had to do to get you out!”

“I didn’t want out.” He waved his hand towards Ryland. “Couldn’t you understand that? I didn’t want you anywhere near him. This is what he wanted all along.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?” Brayden seethed.

I turned to Ryland, and he disregarded me. His jaw was set and his eyes cold as they remained fixed on Brayden.

“That’s right, he’s not going to tell you.” Brayden laughed dryly. “You have no fuckin’ clue who he is or what he’s capable of. And now you’re too wrapped up in him to see any of it.”

“Then tell me,” I challenged him. “Tell me yourself what he’s done. What is it that you’ve both been hiding from me all these years? Because obviously, I can’t believe a word either one of you says.”

Brayden looked at me and shook his head, all the fight suddenly gone out of him.

“Come home, Brighton. Leave this mess behind and come home.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I’d thrown myself into my projects over the last two weeks, spending hours on end in the sewing room.

Ryland would stop in from time to time, trying to find some semblance of conversation in the ocean between us. It wasn’t working. This time, I didn’t know how to fix the distance. I didn’t even know if I could.

I was angry. So fucking angry. At him, at Brayden, at Norma-Jean… and everyone else who had ever lied to me. I’d never felt so much anger in my life, and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

So I bedazzled. I tore apart fabric with scissors and sewed it back together.

Then I bedazzled some more.

“I have to go to a business dinner.” Ryland’s voice carried from the doorway. “I’m assuming you’d like to take a pass on joining me?”

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t even look at him, and I was thankful he hadn’t tried to touch me either. Because he knew. He knew I was about to implode. So he’d left me alone. Did I want to go to a business dinner with him? Hell fucking no, I didn’t.

I heard him sigh as he padded away, and the click of the front door a few moments later. It resounded through the apartment like the sound of a prison door shutting. Closing me in. Because that’s where I was.

Imprisoned in a game where I didn’t know the rules. Where I didn’t know who to trust anymore. Where I lost everyone I ever loved.

I was still feeling sorry for myself an hour later when Nicole popped her head in and surprised me.

“What is all this?” she asked as she stepped inside.

I hadn’t told her I was sewing because I’d been too wrapped up in my emotions to have a real conversation with anyone.

“It’s just a place for me to putter around,” I said.

“This is really cool…” Her voice faltered when her eyes fell on the black sewing machine in front of me. For a moment, she looked like she was in pain.

“Nicole?”

She straightened her spine and walked back towards the door. “I brought you some dinner.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Thanks?”

“Ryland told me to,” she admitted. “But I wanted to check on you myself and see how you were doing.”

I stood up and folded up the piece I’d been working on, deciding I’d punished it enough for one evening.

I followed Nicole out to the breakfast bar and sat down as she pulled out containers of Sushi. She handed me one, and I chewed through a California Roll in record time, not tasting a single thing.

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “I can’t handle this anymore, Nicole. There are things I want to tell you…”

Her eyes widened, and she coughed as she took a drink of water.

“But I can’t,” I went on. “Or at least, I’m not supposed to.”

She weighed my words carefully before reaching her hand towards me.

“Brighton, there are things I want to tell you too…”

Ryland’s home phone rang out, scaring the hell out of both of us. I’d never even heard it ring before. He usually handled everything on his cell phone.

“He must have diverted his calls here by accident,” Nicole said nervously.

I let it ring out, six times in total before the machine picked up. A shrill voice came on the other line, echoing through the apartment.

“I’m a little short this month,” Norma-Jean blared through the speaker.

“I’ve got my son home now, so I need some of next month’s payment in advance.”

She sniffed into the phone, her voice growing more agitated and desperate by the moment.

“I need it now. It’s real important that I get it now,” she persisted. “Or I might have to ask Brighton, and you wouldn’t want that would you?”

There were muffled noises and a click before the dial tone sounded.

I stood up and ran to the machine, and Nicole gave me a worried glance. I pressed the button, trying to get a playback, but the machine kept asking me for a security code.

“She said my name,” I stated, as though I needed confirmation from Nicole.

“That was my mother, and she called here for Ryland. Because she said my name.”

My words weren’t coming out how I wanted or needed them to, but Nicole understood. She walked over and pulled me into her arms. She let me hug

her back, using her strength to support me as I tried to understand what this meant.

“Why is he giving my mother money?” I mumbled. “I don’t understand.”

I paced back and forth across the kitchen while Nicole watched me wearily.

She wasn’t asking me any questions, and I didn’t know why. I needed her to ask me questions. I needed her to help me make sense of this mess.

But then it dawned on me. The one place I knew for sure had the information I wanted. And it was sitting in a house on Belvedere Island.

I rushed to the box in the kitchen where Ryland kept his spare keys, checking each label before I found the ones I needed.

“What are you doing?” Nicole asked.

“I’m going to Belvedere Island,” I replied. “I’m going to get the answers I need.” *** I figured I had another hour before Ryland questioned my whereabouts. It took me thirty minutes just to get to the house.

The keys on the key ring opened the front door without any resistance. But when I raced up to the third floor and wiggled them in the first door I came to, nothing happened. I tried to ignore the cold chill that moved up my spine as the lights flickered along the corridor, highlighting the eery atmosphere on this level of the home.

I thought about trying to break the knob or pick the lock, but it wasn’t one of my skill sets. So with a resigned sigh, I walked back to the second level, clenching my fingers together as I glanced around Ryland’s room. I went through the nightstand and the dresser, turning up nothing useful. But then I remembered his home office.

I walked down to the office nestled into the back of the first floor. The door swung open on the first try. I stared at the oak monstrosity before me, noting how neat and orderly everything appeared. Just like his office at work.

It was one of the things I loved about the man. The painful realization I might not be able to handle his secrets socked me in the gut, stealing some of my resolve. For a moment, I told myself I didn’t have to do this. That I could walk back out of this house and pretend everything was okay. That’s what Norma-Jean always did. But look at how it worked out for her.

I liked to think I was stronger than her. But there was only one surefire way to find out.

I dug through drawers and cabinets, boxes and envelopes. I didn’t care about the mess anymore, and I didn’t bother putting anything back. The only thing I cared about was the key.

My fingers slipped over cool metal, and I held my breath as I pulled it from the back of the drawer, obscured beneath a mountain of paperwork.

When I held it up to the light, my chest constricted at the sight of the skeleton key. This was it. It had to be.

After barreling back up to the third floor, I forced it into the first lock impatiently. I closed my eyes and turned, my palm sweating against the knob as the weight of the lock released.

I pushed against the wood and held my breath, stepping into another bedroom. A master bedroom, even larger than Rylands. It held two walk-in closets and a bathroom off to the side. I glanced around in confusion as I wondered whose it could be.

The bed had been made, and a woman’s nightgown hung from one of the bedposts. The room was clean and orderly, except for the thick layer of dust that covered every surface. An abandoned teacup and saucer sat on the nightstand, along with a book splayed open to the last page. At one point, someone else had lived in this room. Someone other than Ryland.

I backed out the door, deciding there were no answers in here. There was something in that last room, though. The one I’d seen Ryland in. But along the way I paused at another room, too tempting to pass.

I set the lock free and opened the door, discovering what was undoubtedly a little girl’s room. Pink frills and lace covered every inch of the four poster bed, and photos of a tiny ballet dancer adorned the walls. My stomach heaved at the sight of it. On some level, I already knew who it belonged to, but I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t want to accept the awful possibility, so I slammed the door and edged away.

My shaky legs carried me to the last and final room. And when the door opened, I reached for the first thing I could. The picture frame.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. I had to be hallucinating.

But another glance at the face in the photo confirmed I wasn’t.

The woman in the photo was younger, but it was definitely Nicole. She stood beside a young man with his arm wrapped around her. A young man I recognized but didn’t want to. He shared the same eyes as Ryland. The

same shocking blue that had crippled my heart. Only his hair was blonde and not dark. And his face was light and carefree. Happy.

My mouth burned from the sour taste rising up my throat, and the frame clattered unceremoniously onto the dresser.

My brain fired off a thousand different responses, but my legs moved me towards the box still sitting on the floor where Ryland left it. Answers. I needed more answers.

In my haste, I tore open the lid, completely unprepared for what I was about to find. I dumped the contents onto the floor and sifted through them. But once I got a glimpse, I wished I hadn’t.

Article after article of the Lockhart family murder. Three ghostly faces of Jackson, Sophia, and Katherine stared back at me. And suddenly, it all fell into place. A teenage boy, a little girl, and their mother. Three of the people that Brayden was convicted of killing.

It wasn’t any less painful to read the articles now, five years after the fact.

The stories about the family outing that turned deadly when a drunk driver hit them and left them for dead down the side of an embankment. But the coroner’s examination confirmed that wasn’t the case. The only two passengers who died instantly were Katherine and Jackson. Between the time of the accident, and the time the ambulance arrived two hours later, the little girl had also succumbed to her injuries.

It was the reason why one of the charges was upgraded to murder. But there were still so many unanswered questions. Like the shell casings found at the scene, and the evidence that led back to Brayden. When they brought him in, he tested positive for gunshot residue, but he wouldn’t tell them why.

They never did find the gun when they tore our house apart, so I had thought it was a mistake.

But these reports held so much more details than I ever knew. Brayden’s footprints were matched to the ones at the scene. There was also DNA collected from the vomit beside the car. It was undoubtedly his. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand any of it. He was there that night, but why?

At the bottom of the stack were photos. Photos of the family together as one. And my confusion bled out when I saw a young Ryland standing side by side the smiling faces of the family. Only his name wasn’t Ryland. It was Jacob. And he was a part of that family.

My heart beat so hard I thought it might explode. How did I not see it?

It was there all along.

Except, it wasn’t really. He’d hidden it from the world. Changed his name and his story, only allowing people to know what he wanted them to. The news never even mentioned him. I didn’t know he existed because he kept it that way for a reason.

My body burned with guilt and shame and a thousand other emotions I couldn’t pinpoint. The further I dug, the worse it got.

Full investigation reports, witness statements, hospital records. But as my eyes passed over them, everything blurred together. They couldn’t be accurate. Because they said Jacob was in the car too. But that was impossible. Every news article stated there were four victims, including his father. But according to hospital records and witness statements that wasn’t the case.

“Jacob Ryland Lockhart was finally able to free himself from the wreckage and climb to the freeway for help, despite being critically injured. When the ambulance reached the family fifteen minutes later, they found him unconscious as he clutched Sophia Lockhart’s hand in his own. She was dead upon arrival, and all efforts to revive her were unsuccessful. The only remaining survivors were Jacob and his father, Michael.”

Tears poured from my eyes like acid, burning my skin as the image of Ryland like that broke the last ounce of strength that held me together. I couldn’t take anymore, but I couldn’t stop myself either.

At the bottom of the box, I found a Manila envelope, sealed up tight. I picked it up with trembling hands and broke the seal, revealing more photos. Photos I wouldn’t ever be able to erase from my memory.

A little girl’s leg dangling from a ballet tight as it mangled with protruding metal. A bloody hand on the door handle as though it were trying to escape from the wreckage. A mother slumped over the steering wheel with an unrecognizable face. A mass of metal so crumpled and distorted, the type of car was completely indistinguishable. And finally, three bodies covered with white sheets in a ditch.

I couldn’t look anymore. I didn’t want to. But when I heard a sharp inhale of breath behind me, I turned to see Ryland standing over me.

Stupidly, I tried to thrust everything back into the box. To get it out of my sight and pretend that this had never happened.

“By all means…” He kneeled down beside me. “Don’t stop on my account, Brighton.”

I whimpered and shook my head as he picked up the photos of the mangled body parts and thrust them into my face, demanding that I look at them.

“I want you to really understand,” he said. “I want you to digest it all.”

A bloody tutu skirt and the haunted expression of a lifeless little girl stared back at me from the glossy photo.

“I listened to her choke on her own blood for thirty minutes,” he said calmly. “Do you know how long thirty minutes is, Brighton?”

I didn’t know what to say. I had never seen him this way, and it was breaking my fucking heart.

“Thirty minutes of her crying for me to help her. I had to tear the flesh off of my chest to reach her.”

A sob escaped me, and I closed my eyes and begged him to stop. To put the pictures away.

“Do you know why?” he continued ruthlessly. “Why I watched her die a slow and painful death? Why I sat with the lifeless faces of my brother and my mom while I waited for an ambulance that wasn’t coming? Or why my father willingly ate the barrel of a gun six months later?”

“It wasn’t Brayden,” I said weakly. “He would never do that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” he asked. “Because he was in the car that night. And if I recall correctly, he was also the one to walk down the embankment and hold the barrel of a 45 against my skull.”

I blinked up at him with bleary eyes, shaking my head uncertainly.

“Oh, Brighton,” he barked out a strange laugh. “You poor, dense little girl.

All these years you’ve lived with the real monster, and you didn’t even know it.”

“No,” I denied his accusation. “He would never do that!”

“I know you’d like to believe that,” he replied. “But it’s in his blood, Brighton. It’s in your blood too.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Frank Gallo was your father,” he explained. “Otherwise known as the lowlevel scum who did the dirty work for the Chicago crime family.”

I blinked up at him, trying to digest his words while he waited patiently. I’d known my father was Italian, but my mother only ever referred to him as Frankie. But when she did, it was the only time I’d ever seen a shadow of fear pass over her face. Just like when Brayden started hanging out with his new friends. I didn’t think we had anything to worry about, but she did.

And suddenly, I understood why. It was a possibility my mind had never even considered before, but Ryland sounded so certain.

“You think Frankie asked Brayden to do this?” I rasped.

“Yes,” he sneered. “The one and only.”

“But he must have forced him,” I argued. “Brayden would never take part in something like that by choice.”

“Wouldn’t he?” he snapped. “What about the code, Brighton? Family and honor. That’s how it goes, right?”

His words chilled me. Because it was the very thing Brayden had mentioned before he went away. He said he would do this. For his family and for his honor.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought… I thought…”

“Well you thought wrong,” he growled, pulling himself back up to his full height as he looked down at me with pity. “Because Brayden told me himself.”

“Ryland…” I sobbed. “I’m sorry…”

“You put up a valiant fight,” he said cruelly. “But you can see now that none of it matters.”

“I don’t understand,” I cried. “If you hate my family so much, why are you paying my mother?”

A cold smile fell over his face, and for the first time since we’d started the conversation, he looked at peace.

“Think about it, baby girl. Think really hard. You’ve been playing the game, but you can’t tell me you haven’t given a single thought as to how it would end?”

The harshness in his tone unsettled a startling reality for me. One I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen sooner. How Norma-Jean’s addiction had spiraled further and further out of control over the last five years.

“You… you’re trying to…”

The words wouldn’t come out. I was the last person to advocate for my mother, but that didn’t mean I wanted her dead. And the thought that Ryland had been slowly poisoning her over the years sickened me on a level I couldn’t even comprehend myself.

“Yes,” he spat. “I’m waiting for her to die. I’m funding her descent into hell, and at this rate, it should be any day now. And once that’s done, and Brayden has felt the pain I have felt, he will die too.”

The sympathy I had for him only a moment ago vanished somewhere during that statement, and I stood up on wobbly legs, staring him straight in the eyes.

“You did all of this on purpose?” I asked. “You sent him to prison and then had him released, just because you could?”

“You’re finally getting it.”

“That’s where you were last week?” I stared at him in disbelief. “You were the witness that the press wouldn’t print?”

“One and the same.”

“If what you say is true, you could have kept him in prison!” I accused.

“You could have done the right thing, Ryland. Gave him what he deserves.

But what you’re talking about is no better than what he did.”

“Don’t you ever compare me with that swine.” His eyes blazed with a hatred so strong it gutted me. “If he had called an ambulance that night, Sophia would still be alive. He deserves everything he has coming to him.”

“So this was it?” I croaked. “This is what it’s all about? Destroying my family?”

“Yes,” he admitted, his tone softening a fraction as he turned away and paced the floor.

“And that included me,” I supplied, hoping he would deny it.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “Maybe at first. But somewhere along the line, you changed things. It became about wanting you instead of hurting you.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach as I clutched my arms around myself, shaking my head as the tears flowed freely.

“You asked me several times,” he continued. “Why I chose you. I’ll tell you why, Brighton. I hated you. I hated everything you stood for. Seeing you on the porch that day, with your virginal innocence and your naivety. So imagine my surprise that all these years later, I can’t get enough of it.”

He sounded weak for admitting the last part, and it only added to my pain.

“You’re sick,” I shouted.

“You didn’t mind it while I was fucking you,” he said arrogantly. “Or don’t you remember?”

“I remember that you trapped me into an agreement to fulfill your need for revenge.”

“I can live with that,” he said. “And so can you, Brighton. Things have evolved out of my control. I didn’t expect to feel anything for you, but I do.

And I can’t let you go. This doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

“This changes everything!” I screamed. “You’re trying to kill my family.

And I cannot even begin to imagine how you must feel Ryland, but you can’t keep going down this road. You said so yourself. You told me you had doubts…”

“I can and I will,” he said resolutely.

“Then you can’t possibly care for me."

“But I do,” he admitted. “I’m… I care about you very much. And that is not part of the game. It was never meant to be part of the game. But it happened, and I accept that. I want you in my life. Permanently.”

His words cracked some of my resolve, but I couldn’t show it.

“You can’t have us both,” I whispered. “You can’t have me and your revenge.”

“Don’t make me choose, baby girl," he said grimly. “You won’t win. I will see this out until the very end, even if it costs me everything.”

I clutched my chest and dragged in a breath as I willed myself to find strength. Ryland Bennett had just sliced open my heart. Now the only thing left to do was bleed.

“Then I guess you’ve already chosen.”

I turned and walked out the door.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When I got back to the apartment, Nicole greeted me from the kitchen. One glance at the expression on my face, and she knew.

“Brighton…” she hurried towards me, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“You’ve been lying to me this entire time,” I croaked. “You’ve been helping him this entire time.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. You don’t understand…”

“I understand perfectly,” I confessed. “Jackson was your boyfriend. And you were helping Ryland to get revenge. Because my father took him from you.”

“That may have been true at the start,” she sniffled, “but it isn’t what I really wanted. I told him I didn’t want to go through with it anymore. Once I met you, and I realized…”

“You mean when you purposely met me in the park,” I interrupted.

“Yes.” She cast her eyes to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Brighton.”

“You helped him blackmail me,” I whispered. “You let him have sex with me when I didn’t even know who he was.”

She looked sick at my implication. “I didn’t know,” she swore. “I didn’t know he would go that far. He didn’t tell me that, and I only found out about it afterwards. I’m so sorry, Brighton. You must think I’m a horrible person, but I’ve been trapped in his game too. He won’t let me move on…”

“The flowers?”

“Yes!” she choked back a sob. “Every year he sends me those fucking flowers, along with a note to remind me why he is doing this. To remind me how much Jackson loved me and to justify his need for revenge.”

The genuine pain in her eyes told me what she said was true. She’d confessed the same thing the night she explained her boyfriend had died.

That he wouldn’t let her move on. Meaning Ryland. But it didn’t matter now because she was right. She was just another player in his game, and I couldn’t trust her. Not really. Everyone who had come into my life in San Francisco had been planted there, and I wasn’t sure who I could trust anymore.

“I have to leave,” I stated.

“Please don’t go,” she begged.

“I have to, Nicole.” I walked towards my room. She followed along, continuing the conversation while I packed.

“You can stay here,” she insisted. “The apartment’s in my name. We can change the locks. We can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not about changing the locks,” I said softly, trying to ignore the hurt expression in her eyes. “It’s about the fact that Ryland wants my family dead, and I can’t continue to do this. To get sucked back into this vortex with someone who doesn’t even care about me.”

“He does,” she argued. “He loves you, Brighton.”

I smiled sadly at her delusion and shook my head.

“What Brayden did was wrong,” I said. “I’m not going to argue that. But I can’t let Ryland hurt him…”

“I know,” Nicole agreed. “I understand, Brighton.”

“You do?”

She sighed and fell onto the bed, staring at a spot on the carpet. “I’ve told Ryland this isn’t what Jackson would have wanted. It isn’t what his parents would have wanted. But he’s so wrapped up in his grief he can’t even see his way out of it.”

I collapsed onto the bed beside her and released another painful wave of tears. Tears for Ryland and his broken heart.

“I wish I could help him,” I said. “I would do anything to help him.”

“I know.” Nicole clasped my hand in hers. “That makes two of us.”

The room fell silent as we both concluded there was nothing further to say on the subject. Nothing else that we could do. Nicole resigned herself to that fact when she spoke again.

“I’ll call Matt for you.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “You can crash with him, or he can give you a ride to the airport. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” I nodded. “And Nicole?”

“Yeah?”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what my father did. For how he hurt you.”

“I know you are, Brighton.” She gave me a weak smile. “But it really is time for me to move on.” ***

Matt’s truck idled at the curb of the drop off zone as silence engulfed the cab.

“I’m sorry about everything,” he said in a gruff voice. “If I’d known what Ryland was doing, I would have put a stop to it. But Nicole always worried she would bear the brunt of it, so I didn’t push the issue. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“She cares about you.”

He nodded, finally admitting it.

“But you were Jackson’s friend,” I continued. “So she thinks it’s wrong.”

“Or at least that’s what Ryland tells her,” he grumbled. “I felt that way too, for a long time. But I know that Jackson wouldn’t have wanted her to be miserable like this. He wasn’t that kind of person.”

“Not like Ryland,” I whispered.

“He never used to be that way either,” Matt said. “But he lost his entire family. And he hasn’t dealt with it at all.”

“I love him,” I admitted through tears. “Despite it all. All I can feel is this giant hole in my chest. I keep wishing we could get past this somehow.”

Matt reached over and hugged me, which was better than any words of false comfort. He knew as well as I did that wasn’t likely to happen.

“I better go,” I croaked. “Or I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Come back, Brighton,” he said with a sad smile. “Figure out a way to come back home.” *** As the gravel crunched beneath the retreating taxi’s tires, I released a weary sigh.

My mother had uprooted us as children from the city of Chicago and probably made it about seventy miles south before the car broke down.

Because this is where we ended up, the land where hopes and dreams came to die. It was desolate and barren, and just about everyone who lived here had a tragic story in their background. It was a silly dream to think I could ever really escape this place.

My life flashed before my eyes. A life in the Buena Vista trailer park. Born here and doomed to die here too. That is after I spent the majority of my life chasing pennies in my chosen profession of waiting tables or stripping. The

highlight of my life would be the pack a day smoking habit I’d need to develop just to get by.

I swallowed past the pain in my throat and tugged my suitcase into action. I might have a broken heart and an empty future, but at least I had my family.

A brother who I never really knew at all and a mother that would likely be dead soon. Yeah, I still had that.

The lilac bush where Ryland and I had first kissed taunted me with her blooms as I walked up the rickety steps. I didn’t bother knocking, and the door wasn’t locked as I swung it open with the familiar tweaking of the handle.

Brayden sat on the sofa, a beer in his hand and an incredulous expression on his face. His suspicion turned to relief when he saw my bags, and a moment later he enveloped me in the warmth of one of his hugs. But it didn’t feel warm anymore. It felt hollow and empty and filled with lies.

“I knew you’d come back,” he whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t turn your back on us.”

I pulled away from him and crossed my arms, staring up into his dark brown eyes.

“It’s time to tell me everything,” I insisted. “And I mean it, Brayden. Not a single part left out.” *** Brayden kicked his heels up on the end table, his eyes trained on a passing cockroach as he took another puff of his cigarette. It was a disgusting habit, one he must have picked up in prison. We'd always complained as kids about how Norma-Jean refused to smoke outside, and we had to go everywhere smelling like a dirty ash-tray. But now, as the lines on his face had changed from a boy to a man, so had his demeanor.

He was rough around the edges, and a lot harder too. He was blunt with me in a way he’d never been before, and a hint of resentment lingered in his eyes every time he looked at me. I would have to ask him about it later.

“It was Frankie,” he said, crushing the roach beneath his boot. “You didn’t know him because he didn’t want you to. He said it was safer that way. That if his family ever found out he’d bred an Irish bitch, they’d cut off his dick and kill Norma just for the hell of it.”

“But you knew him?” My voice sounded thin, and I hated it. I hated all these fucking secrets and lies.

Brayden didn’t care. He just shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“I was ten when he started coming around,” he said. “But we made sure to keep you out of it. He said I needed to be the man of the house and do him proud. He had a wife and kids already, and they weren’t from a filthy blood line.”

I shook my head in disgust, and Brayden sliced his hand through the air, flicking ash everywhere.

“Those were his words,” he grunted. “Not mine. But Frankie didn’t have any sons, he told me. And that’s the only reason I meant anything to him I guess. He wanted someone he could be proud of, and since I didn’t look like you or Norma, you could hardly tell there was any Irish in me.”

He glanced towards the small laminate dining table in the kitchen as though he were recalling a particular memory I wasn’t familiar with.

“As I got older, he came around more often. He didn’t want you to meet him, though. He said he couldn’t look at you without seeing Norma.”

I sucked in a harsh breath and cast my eyes to the floor. The rejection stung, even though it shouldn’t have. My father was a murderer. I knew this now.

But it didn’t change the fact that I’d always wondered why he abandoned us. Or that I had longed for his love as a little girl.

“You wanted the truth,” Brayden said. “I’m not going to sugar coat it for you, Brighton. Not this time.”

I blinked away my tears and gestured for him to continue though it was the last thing I wanted him to do.

“Frankie picked me up that day,” he went on. “He said he wanted to take me on my first job. He wanted me to do my old man proud. I knew what he did for a living. Norma-Jean told me when he started lurking around here more often, making her real nervous. And I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t want it because I did. I wanted to live by his code, and his honor and have all the things he promised me. He said I’d live like a king after I earned my dues. That I’d be untouchable and gain the respect of an honorable bloodline.”

I wrung my hands together and bit my lip to stay quiet. I wanted to ask Brayden what the hell he was thinking. How he could ever even remotely consider what he was talking about. But I needed to hear what he had to say first. I needed to hear it all.

“He didn’t say much else as we were driving.” Brayden flicked his cigarette butt into the tray and scrubbed a hand across his face. “I wondered why we were in such a beat up old truck. I’d only ever seen Frankie in nice cars before. After we got onto the freeway, he told me there was a family in town he needed to deal with, that the guy owed his boss some money. I should have understood then what he meant by that, but I guess I was too fucking stupid at the time.”

He stopped to light up another cigarette, cracking open a can of beer while he was at it. I frowned, and he narrowed his eyes.

“It was like clockwork,” he said. “We pulled off to the side of the road and waited. He got a call on his cell phone, and this weird expression on his face as he started the truck back up. Calm. That’s what it was. And it never changed, even when he ran them off the road.”

I clutched my stomach and rocked back and forth, images of little Sophia Lockhart burning through my brain. Of Ryland trying to comfort her during her last painful breaths. The enormity of his pain weighed heavy on my chest. I wanted to rip out my own heart and watch it bleed to pay for my father’s sins. For the heinous and unfathomable things he’d done that night.

I was crying now, but Brayden didn’t try to comfort me. I was glad. And when he continued, I just listened in between mouthfuls of air.

“He pulled a gun out of his jacket and handed it to me,” Brayden said. “He told me to finish it with one in the head for each of them.”

His voice was quiet now. Too quiet. And I didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. I waited anxiously for his next words. The words I needed to hear from him to confirm what Ryland said. That my brother was a monster, like our father.

“I went down there.” He looked me straight in the eye while he said it.

“And I was going to do it. I really thought I was. I kept telling myself over and over it was about honor. Family. Blood. But when I saw the fucking mangled bodies inside, I vomited all over the place.”

“Jesus, Brayden!” My entire body shook. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer me. He just kept talking, in the same flat tone, staring off into the kitchen.

“I put the gun right between Jacob Lockhart’s eyes. He looked at me like he didn’t understand. He had no fucking clue why this was happening. He was bleeding all over the place, and the little girl next to him made some kind of

weird gurgling noise. And I couldn’t handle it. So I shot five rounds into the forest and walked away. I figured they were going to die anyway. And if they didn’t, then I knew Frankie would kill me. But I didn’t care.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God….”

I ran to the kitchen and vomited up the meager contents of my stomach.

Everything in my body burned. Everything in my world was falling apart, and it felt like it was my fault somehow. The only thing I could think of was Ryland. Of what he had gone through because of Frankie. And whether I wanted to admit it or not, but because of Brayden too.

I rinsed my mouth out and slid down onto the floor, clutching my arms around my knees as I stared at the dingy tile. Brayden kept talking, as though he needed to purge himself of the details, regardless of whether I listened or not.

“When the news reported that Michael Lockhart had lived, I never heard from Frankie again. The cops found his body a couple days later, in a dumpster in Chicago. And the evidence trail led back to me. They knew I fired the bullets they found there, but they didn’t know why. I wouldn’t tell them. So they pinned me with a drunk driving charge instead, and I never said otherwise. Neither did Michael Lockhart. I was sure Frankie’s boss would come after me. It didn’t matter what happened in court because I would die one way or another.”

“Then one day, Jacob showed up. He told me that Michael had handed himself over to Frankie’s boss, along with the money he owed to spare Jacob’s life. He wanted me dead, and he made it a point to let me know. But he told me he was going to take pleasure in destroying my life first. He said that I’d had the chance to kill him, and he would make certain I regretted that decision every day for the rest of my life. When the coroner’s report came back, and they upgraded the charges, I was fucked. I couldn’t do anything but take the fall if I wanted you and Norma to live, and Jacob knew it too.”

“That isn’t fair, Brayden,” I croaked. “Don’t make it sound like you did this for me and Norma. You did this for you. You chose to go out with Frankie that day. You chose not to call an ambulance… to let that little girl suffer.

What you did was wrong, and you knew it too. You went to prison because you wanted to punish yourself.”

Brayden shot me a glare that would have withered me any other day. But I had nothing left to give anymore. Every tear had already been purged from

my body, and every ounce of emotion completely dried up. All that remained was the harshness of reality.

“And what would have happened if I wasn’t there that day?” he laughed hollowly. “Your precious fucking Ryland would be dead, Brighton. But you know what, now that you mention it, I wish I wasn’t there. Because then he’d be rotting in hell where he belongs.”

“You don’t even know him,” I snarled. “And you’re full of shit. You can’t possibly think what happened was justified. Frankie murdered that entire family, Brayden! And for what, some money?”

“I didn’t know,” he snapped. “And I didn’t fucking care. I was only thinking of Frankie. Of how I wanted my old man to be proud of me.”

The callousness in his words gutted me. Because when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see my brother anymore. I saw a stranger. He believed what he said, even though I didn’t.

“You mean you wanted to be like him,” I accused. “A low life fucking criminal?”

“Why not, Brighton?” He threw out his hands and shot me a scathing look.

“What the fuck else am I gonna’ do? Live in this shit hole for the rest of my life? Frankie said he lived like a king, and yeah, I’ll admit it, I wanted a piece of that too. I wanted something better than this life.”

“And what about now?” I asked. “What are you going to do now?”

“The only thing I can do,” he replied. “Sit here and twiddle my fucking thumbs until I can get a job flipping hamburgers for the rest of my life.”

His words made me realize something. Something that hadn’t occurred to me before.

“Why didn’t they come for you?” I demanded. “If they killed Frankie, why didn’t they come for you too?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I guess Frankie never told them what happened. Maybe it was the only honorable thing he ever did.”

It sounded too easy, but it was a lie Brayden and I both readily accepted. I needed to believe for my own sanity it was true.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Six agonizing days had passed since I’d felt Ryland’s presence near me.

He’d continued to text me, to tell me this wasn’t over. That he needed me.

That he would come and get me if I didn’t answer him soon.

There were voicemails too. I couldn’t listen to them. But I’d kept my GPS bracelet on. I wanted a reason to feel close to him because he wasn’t there. I looked at it every day, wondering if he thought about it too. If knowing where I was kept him at bay. And if I were to take it off, would he show up at my door?

It was too painful to think about, so I made myself stop. I wasn’t really dealing with anything, I was just surviving on autopilot. I’d been tempted to take a page from Norma’s book and drown my pain in alcohol, but I still wanted to believe I was stronger than that.

Besides, Brayden was doing enough of that for the both of us. And I’d been treading on eggshells as I thought about how to bring it up with him. I was a stranger in my own house, living with two people who didn’t even look at each other but claimed to live by some code of family.

I couldn’t talk to Brayden the way I used to. He was a changed man. One I was afraid I would never really know again. After our conversation that first day, we’d barely spoken at all. I had yet to bring up the subject of Norma though I’d been trying my best to keep her at home as much as possible.

She was already sick of me too, asking when I planned to go back to California.

My presence wasn’t a comfort to anyone anymore, and I wallowed in the self-pity. I started sleeping in. Sitting on the couch and shoveling pizza in my mouth while Brayden watched the Discovery Channel. Norma passed out on the laminate table in a plate of cold spaghetti. It had been five years, and nothing had changed. I had no idea what I was doing anymore. But I couldn’t stay here in this smoke-filled, poisonous environment. The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t breathe. So I stood up and started pacing.

“What the hell is wrong with you now?” Brayden grumbled.

“This!” I waved my arms around the room. “How can you live this way?

How can you sit here all day and watch your life go by in this shitty existence?”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me,” he snapped. “I didn’t realize it was so goddamned horrible here. You see, I just spent the last five years behind bars… so to me, this is mother fucking paradise!”

“Don’t you put that on me again!” I pointed a shaky finger at him. “I know what you think of me, Brayden. I know you resent me for it.”

“Damn straight I resent you.” He glared. “I went away so you could have a better life, and what do you do? You run straight into the arms of the one fucking man I despise. You fall in love with the sadistic bastard, then you come back here with your tail between your legs, expecting me to feel sorry for you. Well, it ain’t gonna’ fucking happen. So if you don’t like it here, misses high and mighty, go back to your castle in San Francisco. I won’t stop you this time.”

“I can’t,” I snapped.

My eyes burned with tears because I hated fighting with him. I hated that I lashed out instead of telling him the truth. So finally, I collapsed onto the couch and unburdened myself.

“He’s been sending Norma money.”

Brayden blinked as if my words hadn’t registered. But one glance at Norma’s slumped over form in the kitchen was all he needed to put the puzzle together.

The vein in his forehead throbbed as he swung his gaze back to me. “How much money?”

“Enough.” I stared at the floor. “Whatever she asks for I guess.”

He stood up and shook his head in disbelief. “Goddammit.”

“He’s waiting for her to... overdose I guess. Or die from liver failure.

Whatever’s quicker.”

Brayden glanced at Norma again, his eyes filling with a rage I’d never seen in him before. It fizzled out a moment later as he collapsed back onto the sofa beside me.

“We can’t compete with that,” he said. “What the fuck are we gonna’ do?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I thought maybe we could talk some sense into her, together.”

A dry laugh squeezed from his chest as he dismissed my suggestion entirely. “She isn’t gonna’ fucking listen to us, Brighton. Are you even

hearing yourself right now? When has she ever chosen us over any damn thing?”

“Well, I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do,” I bit out. “We can’t force her to go to rehab. And I can’t babysit her for the rest of my life. I’m going to have to get a job soon.”

A strange calm washed over Brayden’s face as his head fell back against the sofa and he closed his eyes.

“Just let me think on it for a while,” he said. “That’s what we’re going to do.” *** I woke up in a cold sweat, clutching my pillow against my chest.

I had dreamt of Ryland again. The same dream I’d had every night since I’d been back in Illinois. His hands on my body, his lips on my skin. The heat of his chest pressing against my back. I called out to him, but he didn’t answer. I reached for him with my hand. Usually, I could feel him, somewhere in the darkness. But not this time. I didn’t feel him at all.

I reached for my phone and looked for one of his texts. There weren’t any since yesterday morning. My stomach clenched.

I opened the messages from Nicole that I’d been avoiding all week, scrolling through them. She said she was worried about him, and he looked really bad. He was snapping at everyone around the office, missing appointments, and forgetting things. Important things, from the sounds of it.

But I couldn’t do anything else for Ryland. I had to remind myself and her of that. He needed to get help. Help I wasn’t qualified to give him. I didn’t know how to deal with grief on a small scale, let alone a catastrophic one. I didn’t know how to be torn between him and my family. Because no matter what I did, someone would get hurt.

I wiped my bleary eyes and dragged myself from the room. As I walked down the hall, Norma’s tiny frame came into view. She peered out the curtains, tapping her foot anxiously.

“What are you doing?” I headed straight for the Fruit Loops and grabbed a handful before I sat down on one of the rickety kitchen chairs.

Her gaze swung to me, and I could see the wheels turning in her brain before she even opened her mouth.

“I gotta get out of this house,” she snapped. “But I need some money. You got any?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?” “What does it matter why?” she asked. “I just do.”

I shrugged and went back to eating my cereal, knowing that the argument wouldn’t end there. I never had to push with Norma. For a master manipulator, she was actually quite easy to manipulate herself, when she was desperate enough.

“I had some in my purse,” she said sourly. “I know I did. I didn’t go nowhere last night. But this morning it was gone.”

I snorted at her predicament and mentally reminded myself to thank Brayden later. I was surprised he wasn’t up already since it was past eleven.

I didn’t usually sleep in this late myself, but it was becoming a habit lately.

I polished off the rest of the cereal I'd shoved into my mouth and walked down the hall, ignoring Norma’s grumbling.

When I knocked on Brayden’s door, he didn’t answer. I pushed it open quietly, expecting to find him asleep. But one glance at the bed and my mouth went dry. He hadn’t slept in it last night. And his backpack was gone too.

I carried myself towards the living room with jerky, awkward movements.

The house was so quiet. Too fucking quiet.

“How much money?” My voice was sandpaper in my throat.

“What?” Norma shouted, spinning away from the curtain again.

“How much money is missing?” I repeated.

She scratched her head and pretended to think about it for a moment though I knew better. Norma always knew how much money she had in her purse.

And exactly how much that would buy her.

“How much?” I growled.

“A thousand bucks!” she spat. “I know I didn’t misplace it.”

“Where’s Brayden?”

“Huh?” I wanted to slap that idiotic expression off her face. She was wasting my time with her drug-addled brain.

“Where the hell is Brayden?”

“How should I know?” she shrugged. “He never leaves the couch usually.

He’s probably in his room sleeping.”

“He isn’t.”

It dawned on me with sickening slowness. The conversation we’d had the night before. The calm expression on his face. I knew exactly where Brayden was. Or at least where he was going. *** I tried to call Nicole one more time as the plane taxied onto the runway.

Nobody answered. Not her, Ryland, or Matt. Why weren’t they answering?

“Come on, pick up,” I pleaded.

The flight attendant crossed her arms and gave me a pointed stare.

“Ma’am you need to put that away.”

Nicole’s voicemail picked up again, and I shoved the phone into the seatback pocket, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.

I told myself I was being crazy and paranoid. That Brayden would never really go after Ryland. I told myself the reason all of their phones went to voicemail was because they were busy. Ryland and Nicole were probably at work, but reception kept telling me they weren’t available. Brayden could have been at the bar, or with a friend.

So then why was I sitting on a plane bound for San Francisco? I had no clue. The only thing I knew for certain was my gut told me this was where I needed to be. *** I slipped out of the elevator doors before they even fully opened, scrambling towards Ryland’s door with forced calmness.

I didn’t know what I would say to him when he answered, completely fine.

I would look like a lunatic, I was sure, and give him false hope where none lived. But I pounded on the wood anyway, waiting impatiently for him to answer.

He didn’t.

I already knew he wasn’t at work since I’d called reception again on the way over. The temp on the phone told me neither he or Nicole came into work that day, and that was all the information she had. It was midweek so he wouldn’t be at Belvedere Island.

That only left his apartment.

I dug into the bottom of my purse, retrieving the key ring I never thought I’d be using again. Only, the key I needed was missing.

Brayden.

I reached for the handle anyway, expecting it to be locked. But it wasn't. I swung it open wide and nearly collapsed from the sight before me.

Blood.

So much blood. Smeared across the floor, the breakfast bar, the walls. I couldn’t make sense of it.

The phone lay shattered on the kitchen tile. The bar stools were nothing but a splintered pile of wood, scattered across the living room floor. There was glass and furniture everywhere.

The blood was a dull red color, which meant that it had been dried for a while. I cupped a hand over my mouth as I searched the rest of the apartment frantically. Tears streamed down my face as I checked every room, noting that my sewing room had been locked and turned into a shrine like his dead family members.

Because Ryland thought he’d lost me too.

And if he was dead, I would die too. Knowing I never told him how much I loved him. Knowing I didn’t help him as much as I should have. Knowing that my own flesh and blood had done this.

My heart stopped functioning. I couldn’t breathe. I was hyperventilating. A strange wheezing sound came from my lungs every time I tried to drag in some air. I fell onto my knees in his bedroom, dragging his tee shirt to my face.

Oh, God. It smelled like him.

Ryland.

Another sob heaved from my chest, and it echoed around the room as I repeated his name over and over again. I wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

He was gone. I was so certain of it I couldn’t move. Grief had paralyzed me.

But then the front door slammed, and something like hope sparked to life inside of me. I dragged myself into the kitchen, where Nicole stood with a hollow and lifeless expression on her face. There was no shock, no confusion… only acceptance.

“Nicole?”

It was my plea for her to deny what I feared. To deny that I had any right to feel the way I did at that moment.

She didn’t respond. She was half comatose herself as she stared at me.

“Where is he?” I shook her arms. “Where is Ryland?”

“He’s… at the hospital.” She sagged against the counter. “I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t smell the death all around me anymore.”

“Death?” I shook my head. “No, not death. He’s okay.”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and I shook her harder.

“He’s okay, Nicole.” I wasn’t asking anymore. I was telling her. Because I couldn’t accept any other option.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered.

“I have to go to him,” I said, rushing for the door.

“They wouldn’t tell me.”

It was the last thing I heard before I left the apartment.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“I’m his fiancé,” I blurted. “Please, you have to tell me.”

The nurse gave me a skeptical look, one that guaranteed she knew I was full of shit. But I didn’t care, and I guess neither did she. She took pity on me and typed something into her computer.

“It looks like he’s in recovery right now,” she said. “He just got out of surgery twenty minutes ago. He’s been given a strong sedative, so it’s still going to be awhile until he’s able to accept visitors.”

“Surgery?” It was all I could do to get the most basic of words out.

“Yes.” She nodded. “He sustained several stab wounds during the attempted mugging. His shoulder, his chest, and his abdomen. He had a collapsed lung and internal bleeding. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

“But he’s okay?” I persisted.

“He’s stable,” she replied clinically. “Which is all I know at the moment.

You’ll have to wait until he’s conscious, and then you can speak with the doctor.”

I opened my mouth to protest when she pointed down the hall.

“Get yourself a cup of coffee, honey and have a seat. I will send the doctor as soon as we know anything else.” *** By the time the doctor came in three hours later, I’d practically worn a hole in the floor.

“Miss Valentine?” he questioned, his eyes scanning the file in his hand.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said quickly.

“He’s asked for you,” he said. “So you can go on in.”

I rushed towards the door before pausing at the frame to turn back.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s in stable condition,” the doctor explained. “He’s very lucky that he survived, but he will need to be monitored closely over the next few days.”

“Thank you.” I clenched my hands together. “Thank you for… taking care of him. I don’t know what I would have done…”

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “Why don’t you go see him now.”

I nodded and scurried down the hall to Ryland’s room. The door was cracked, and I dragged in a mouthful of air as I pushed my way inside.

He was lying in the hospital bed, covered in blankets and tubes. I bit my lip to keep from making any noise as I leaned over and clasped his face in my hands. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was asleep.

My first instinct was to pepper his cheeks with kisses while I smoothed his hair down with my fingers. He wouldn’t have wanted it out of place. He didn’t want anything out of place.

Big droplets of water splashed onto his face, and I realized they were coming from me. I was sobbing all over him. At how close I had come to losing him. I didn’t understand how Brayden could do this. I hated him. I hated him so much it scared me, and I feared what would happen when I saw him next. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt I couldn’t leave Ryland right now. I worried I might not ever be strong enough to leave him again.

“Why are you crying, baby girl?” Ryland’s voice was scratchy when he opened his eyes, staring up at me with the hint of a teasing smile.

I shook my head, unable to answer, and the tears continued to pour. Ryland brushed my hair back with his fingers, getting a clear look at my face as he tried to comfort me.

“Hush,” he whispered. “Don’t cry for me.”

“Don’t say that,” I snapped, threading my fingers through his. “Don’t tell me not to cry for you.”

A moment of silence fell between us, and when he spoke again, his words were heavy with the weight of relief.

“I didn’t think you would come.”

“Of course I would come,” I sniffled. “I love you, Ryland. That doesn’t just go away.”

He winced as he moved his body to the side, leaving a small gap between the frame and him.

“Come up here,” he pleaded. “Lay with me.”

I glanced at the cracked door, mentally calculating how long it would be before a nurse would come through it to scold me. But the longer I thought it about it, the less I cared. I needed to be beside him. To feel his warmth, his heartbeat, his life.

I crawled up and laid on my side, careful not to touch him anywhere on his torso. The blankets covered his bandages, and I was grateful for it. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. Not yet.

Ryland clutched my hand in his and stared into my eyes as though he didn’t believe I was really here with him. There was still so much that needed to be said between us, and we both knew it. But neither one of us brought it up. Instead, he said the only thing he could in that moment. The only thing I knew within my soul was not a lie.

“I love you, Brighton.” *** The nurse ended up kicking me out after midnight. Ryland didn’t want me to go, but he needed his rest. So I promised him I’d be back first thing in the morning, and I meant it.

As I walked out of the hospital lobby into the cool evening air, someone clutched me around the arm and pulled me to the side.

I started to struggle when the familiar voice hissed into my ear.

“Relax,” Brayden ordered. “It’s me.”

I yanked my arm away and took a step back, glaring at his profile in the gloomy light of the hospital parking lot. A hatred I had never known bubbled up inside of me, and there was only one place for it to go.

I shoved him back against the wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Brayden just blinked at me like I was acting crazy. It made me crazier. I shoved him again and slapped at his face.

“You tried to kill him!”

“Jesus, Brighton,” he spat. “Keep your voice down and stop hitting me. I’m bleeding all over the place as it is.”

On closer inspection, I realized he was right. Ryland hadn’t gone down without a fight. Brayden’s nose was crooked and both his eyes were black.

But the blood stains all over his shirt had me shaking as I tried to calm down.

I reached towards him and then snatched my hand away. I couldn’t comfort him. I couldn’t justify what he’d done. Ever.

“Have you even bothered to see a doctor?”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Because I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

I didn’t even recognize my own voice. But I recognized the anger in Brayden’s eyes.

“So that’s it, huh? You’re going to choose him over your family?”

“I don’t want to choose anyone!” I cried out. “You're both making me choose. And right now, I have to choose him, Brayden. He has no one else.

Because of what you and Frankie did to his family. And if that wasn’t enough, you went after him again! I can’t even wrap my head around that. I don’t understand what’s happened to you.”

“He’s killing our mother!” he argued. “Is that not justification enough? And do you really think it’s going to stop there? Who will be next? Me? And then what? You know he isn’t capable of love. He doesn’t care about you.

He’s going to hurt you too.”

“He wouldn’t.” I shook my head vehemently. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s in pain, and he just needs someone to help him.”

“He’s a sinking ship,” Brayden spat. “And it disgusts me that you can even look at him knowing what he’s done to Norma.”

“What?” I scoffed. “Gave her money? It was her choice to buy the drugs, not Ryland’s.”

I didn’t know why I defended him on this. Deep down, I knew Ryland had malicious intent behind giving her that money. But I had tried to justify it was her actions that would cause her own demise, not his.

“She’s an addict,” Brayden snorted. “He knew exactly what she would do with that money. He wants her dead. He wants me dead too. And what’s going to happen to you, Brighton? Is he saving you for last?”

“I can’t have this conversation right now,” I snapped. “I don’t know what to do anymore. All I know is that I love him. And I want you to stay away from him.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he sneered. “I’ll be staying away from both of you.” *** When I got back to Nicole’s apartment, I was surprised to find that my key didn’t work in the door anymore.

I stood in the hallway with warring feelings. I didn’t want to wake her up, but I didn’t want to go back to Ryland’s either. To see his blood everywhere.

I couldn’t handle it.

Nicole solved my dilemma for me when she opened the door.

“He worried Brayden might come here,” she explained in a hollow voice.

She was still wearing a blood stained shirt, and her eyes were ringed with darkness. She also looked like she’d lost weight since I’d left. I thought I was too exhausted to deal with anyone else’s feelings, but Nicole was the exception.

I grabbed her by the hand and ushered her to the couch. I didn’t have the words to comfort her, but I wanted to try. Having Norma-Jean for a mother meant I lacked the nurturing instincts she should have instilled in me. I didn’t know how to nurture. I barely knew how to take care of myself.

“I can’t go through this again.” Nicole’s voice wobbled as she looked at me with bleary eyes. “I can’t do it, Brighton. I’m not strong enough.”

“You are strong enough,” I told her. “And this is not the same thing.

Ryland’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” she argued. “You don’t know.”

“I do know,” I said vehemently. “I won’t let anything else happen to him.

He’s okay now, Nicole. I just saw him.”

“He won’t stop.” She shook her head, the tears falling freely now. “He’s not going to stop until Brayden’s dead, you know that right?”

The truth of her words shook me to my core. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t argue with that statement. It was probably the reason Ryland hadn’t told the truth about what happened to the police. Because he wanted his chance at Brayden. My boyfriend and my brother both wanted each other dead.

“We’ll find a way,” I said weakly. “We have to. You and I, Nicole. We can do this together…”

“No,” she snapped. “We can’t. Wake up, Brighton. This is going to end badly. We both have to get out now while we still can.”

“I can’t get out,” I croaked. “But you’re right, Nicole. You should. Maybe you should take some time off. Go stay with your family for a while.”

I saw how much this weighed on her, and I didn’t want to see her broken.

She’d been through enough already, and this wasn’t her battle to fight.

“I can’t just go.” She sobbed. “You have to come with me, Brighton. That’s the only way I’ll be able to do it. We could get a place together, in another

city. Anywhere, I don’t care. Let’s leave…”

She wasn’t being rational but judging by her face, she hadn’t slept in a while.

“We can talk about this later,” I told her in a gentle voice. “I think you should get some rest.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded before rising on shaky legs.

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “Rest sounds like a good idea.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After tossing and turning for half the night, I felt even worse than the day before. I was anxious to see Ryland, but I also wanted to check on Nicole before I left.

It was past eight already, and she was usually up by now. I chalked it up to her being exhausted from the stress. When I paused outside of her bedroom door, I thought about letting her sleep. But I was going to be at the hospital all day, so I decided to wake her up instead.

When I opened the door, any rational thoughts about what I should do fled.

Nicole was sprawled out across the floor, a half empty bottle of whiskey and a pill bottle lying beside her.

A wave of dizziness threatened to overtake me as I knelt down beside her.

She was face down on the carpet, and I couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

“Nicole! Wake up!”

She didn’t respond to my voice.

I flopped her onto her back and checked her pulse. When it thumped against my fingers, I let out a huge breath. I pulled out my cell phone and fumbled with the buttons when she blinked open her eyes.

“Shwhat are you doooing?” she slurred.

I brushed the hair away from her face and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

She batted the phone out of my hand with surprising speed as her eyes flared with panic. “No. No hospitals!”

She tried to sit up but ended up slumping back against the bed as she shook her head frantically.

“No hospitals!”

She was becoming hysterical, and I didn’t know what to do.

“Okay,” I relented. “No hospitals, Nicole. But I’m calling Matt.”

“Matt?” she blinked.

His name calmed her, so I repeated it again as I reached for my phone.

“Yes, see?” I showed her his contact. “Matt. I’m going to call him, okay?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees, looking very much like a small, fragile child. And I hated myself for not seeing it before. For

not seeing how vulnerable she really was. I’d completely underestimated what she was capable of dealing with.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said again, edging towards her slowly as I dialed Matt’s number. “It’s all going to be okay.” *** Matt’s pounding on the door sent Nicole into another bout of hysteria, and I cringed as I ran to open it.

“Where is she?” he asked, his eyes wild as he looked around the room.

“She’s in the bedroom.”

He tried to bolt to her, but I grabbed him by the arm.

“Matt, she’s… she’s seriously traumatized. I think she’s having some kind of breakdown, but she won’t go to the hospital.”

His shoulders fell, and he nodded as though he understood.

“It’s okay,” he explained. “I’ve seen her like this before. I know how to help her.”

“You do?” I felt like the world’s shittiest friend. How come he had all the answers, and I didn’t.

He strode to the room without answering and cradled Nicole against his chest. He rocked her in his arms, whispering soothing things into her ear while he rubbed her back.

The tension dissipated from her body, and suddenly I understood. It wasn’t about having the right answers. It was about being the right person. Nicole needed Matt because she loved him whether she wanted to admit it or not.

There was a hollow pain in my own chest at the sudden epiphany. Ryland needed comfort too whether he wanted to admit or not. His pain was fourfold what Nicole was going through, but he’d never let on to it. He’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of me. He took his pain and twisted it into anger, and it was the only thing holding him together.

Would he ever accept my help, even if I were to offer it?

Matt understood my unspoken question as he looked into my eyes with a solemn expression.

“It isn’t your fault,” he said. “You can only help those who want to be helped, Brighton.”

A solitary tear slid down my cheek as I jerked my chin in agreement.

“You’ll take care of her?” I croaked.

“Always,” he replied. *** The sound of Ryland’s angry voice carried down the hallway, and I ran towards his door with what little energy I had left.

Three nurses and a doctor surrounded his bed, threatening him with a needle as he tried to claw the blankets off.

“Ryland?”

My voice made him pause, and his face filled with relief as he sank back against the pillow.

“Brighton.”

He breathed my name as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

I drew towards him slowly and clasped his face in my hands, trying to smooth away the worry in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

The doctor huffed and gave the nurses a curt nod as they backed away from him.

“He said he was coming to find you,” the doctor replied.

Ryland’s helpless expression dissipated as I stroked his hair and gave him a weak smile.

“I didn’t know where you were.” He tried to justify.

“He says he wants to be discharged,” the doctor spoke again. “Although I would highly recommend against it.”

“Ryland, you can’t.”

This had to be difficult for him, being out of control. I could see the same fear in his eyes he had whenever I was late, or he thought something had happened to me. What most people would say was completely irrational seemed like the most rational thing in the world to him. He’d lost everyone he’d ever loved.

“I’m not staying here,” he growled. “I fucking hate hospitals. And I can recover at home just as well.”

“They won’t let you go,” I argued. “You can’t just walk out of here.”

“Actually, he can.” The doctor sighed. “If he signs a waiver, unfortunately, there’s nothing else we can do to keep him.”

The doctor looked at me as though I had some sort of power to sway his decision. He obviously didn’t know Ryland Bennett.

“Stay a couple more days,” I pleaded. “I’m not going to leave your side, I promise.”

“No, Brighton. You weren’t here this morning.”

I ignored the harshness of his tone as I desperately sought a way to fix this.

“I’ll leave if you discharge yourself,” I threatened.

“No, you won’t.” He called my bluff.

The doctor looked at us like we were both crazy before shaking his head.

“What if he hired a nurse?” I asked.

“He really should be here, Miss. Valentine, it’s the best place for him.”

“I’m not staying,” Ryland grated.

The doctor sighed and gestured to one of the nurses as he walked out of the room. “Very well, Mr. Bennett. I’ll prepare to have you discharged from our care.” *** “Where are you going?” I asked the nurse as she moved towards the front door.

“He told me I’m no longer needed.” She crossed her arms indignantly. “I don’t know why you even bothered wasting my time.”

I noticed the fat stack of cash in her hand and thought it couldn’t have inconvenienced her too much.

“Look, you can’t leave,” I begged.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but he’s the patient, and he’s refusing my care.

There’s nothing more I can do.”

I nearly toppled over from exhaustion as I stared at the list of everything I still had to do. Ryland needed groceries, and I still had to clean the kitchen since I hadn’t had the foresight to organize someone else.

The nurse clearly saw my frustration and took pity on me.

“I’ll tell you what you need to do,” she gentled her tone. “If that will help.”

“Please,” I encouraged, collapsing onto the barstool.

“You’ll need to change the bandages daily,” she explained, pulling supplies from her bag and setting them on the counter.

She demonstrated how to do it in slow and simple steps and explained what I needed to look out for as far as signs of infection went.

I felt better with the information, but my chest still tightened as she walked towards the door.

“Thank you,” I blurted.

She gave me a gentle smile and shook her head. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, Miss Valentine.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I walked into Ryland’s bedroom to find him tapping away at his phone as if he hadn’t just been stabbed two days before. What little display of vulnerability I’d seen in the hospital was no longer there as he conducted business as usual.

The only way I could even tell he wasn’t himself was by the few pieces of hair sticking every which way on his head. That and the fact he had his shirt on inside out. He didn’t even seem to notice, which was very unlike him.

When he heard my sigh, he looked up at me, his features softening a fraction before they hardened again. He was still pissed at me for not being at the hospital this morning, and I hadn’t even had the energy to explain why yet. I did call and check in with Matt, though, who reported that Nicole was safe and sound at his apartment. He said she would stay there until all of this blew over. It was the only good news I’d heard all day.

“You don’t have to stay.” Ryland kept his eyes glued to his screen. “If you have better things to do.”

I wanted to take his phone and throw it at the wall.

“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice wavering already.

He blinked up at me in confusion. “Brighton…”

“No.” The dam burst and I didn’t even care. “Don’t you Brighton me. You didn’t even think to ask why I was late this morning. And I didn’t want to upset you, it’s the only reason I didn’t tell you before.”

“Tell me what?” his voice gentled as he patted the bed beside him. “Come here.”

I remained where I was, blinking away the tears. God, I was sick of crying.

“Nicole was having a mental breakdown last night, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” I said. “I found her this morning in her room with a bottle of whiskey and a bunch of pills. She freaked out when I tried to call an ambulance.”

Ryland tore his gaze from mine and took a shaky breath. “Is she okay?”

“She’s with Matt,” I replied. “He says she’s doing okay. But Ryland… she’s not going to get better. Not until this…”

“Stop,” he croaked. “Brighton, please come here. I need you right now.”

It was the most honest thing he’d ever said. And so I went.

He pulled me against his side, and we both ignored the elephant in the room for a while longer. I would ask him what he planned to do to Brayden, but not tonight. My psyche couldn’t handle it, and I didn’t think his could either.

“I almost lost you,” I cried.

“You didn’t,” he whispered. “I’m still here.”

It was true, and yet, I couldn’t relax. Because even though he was still there, I didn’t know how much longer that would be. *** I woke to the sound of Ryland groaning and rolled over to find him clutching his ribs. He was still half-asleep and probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Then it occurred to me I’d forgotten to give him his pain pills last night.

Already I was doing a horrible job of playing nurse.

I scurried from the bed and into the kitchen, shaking a couple pills into my hand and filling a glass of water.

“Brighton?” Ryland’s panicked voice came from the bedroom.

I padded back down the hall, and his face filled with relief the moment he saw me.

I sat down beside him and handed him the pills, watching to make sure he took them before he sank back against the pillow. His hair was even more mussed than the day before, and I smoothed it back into place as I looked into his troubled eyes.

“Ryland, I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me. And I didn’t know how to get through to him, so instead, I decided to take his mind off of it.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

I didn’t give him time to argue as I walked to the bathroom and gathered the supplies I needed. When I came back, I found him struggling to undress.

“Here, let me help you,” I offered.

He gave me a frustrated sigh but allowed me to undress him. I put a towel down beneath him and placed my bucket of soapy water within reach.

To my surprise, he laid back and relaxed against the pillows, allowing me to get straight to work.

“You aren’t fighting me on this.” I smoothed the cloth over the hard planes of his body, careful to avoid his bandages.

He grinned. “I can’t say that this doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Of course you’d like this,” I teased, gliding the cloth up and down his arm.

“I like any time you touch me of your own free will,” he confessed.

Though he hadn’t intended to, his words returned the darkness of our situation to the room. The ever-present reminder of how all of this had started. The painful chasm that still divided us.

I ignored it and my mixed up feelings as I ran the cloth up and down his legs. His cock started to jerk against his belly, swollen and eager to be touched.

He shuddered as I ran the cloth over that part of him, cleaning him quickly and without finesse. It was difficult to pull away, but I managed, placing the cloth back into the bucket. I moved to stand, but Ryland grasped my arm.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “I need you, baby girl.”

“Ryland, we can’t,” I protested. “You need to rest.”

“I need to be inside of you,” he insisted. “God, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much. I need to feel you again. Please.”

I knew I shouldn’t. He needed to relax and let himself heal. But in my mind, I was as desperate as him for that connection. The one place we’d never had any problems. The one way we could communicate our feelings without words.

So, throwing caution to the wind, I positioned myself between his legs and kneeled down to suck him into my mouth.

He hissed the moment my lips enveloped him and tried to buck his hips up to greet me.

“We do this my way,” I warned him. “Or not at all. I’m in control here, Ryland, not you.”

His eyes flared, but he didn’t say a word of protest as he watched me take him back into my mouth. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he let me have control.

He wound his fingers through my hair and groaned, his cock swelling even more as I sucked him deeper.

“Please, Brighton,” he begged. “I need to be inside of you.”

I pulled away and tugged off my shorts and panties, discarding them on the floor before I straddled his hips again. His hands pushed down the material of my cami, seeking out my breasts.

I was soaking wet for him already, and I glided him inside of me without resistance. He made another strangled noise in his throat as his hands fell to my hips.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as I began to move. “You can’t ever take this away from me again.”

He devoured me with his eyes, his frustration warring with awe as I took charge. I rolled my hips around in circles and bobbed up and down on his shaft, giving him what he so desperately needed.

“Play with yourself,” he rasped. “I want to watch you.”

I did as he requested, not feeling the slightest bit shy. We were far past that at this point. Whatever this man asked of me, I would do. It was a dangerous power he held.

I reached up and cupped one of my breasts while the other hand toyed with my clit. All of my frustration and anger and pain from the last few days combined to a boiling point of pressure inside of me. When I finally blew, the waves of pleasure seemed to roll on forever. It was the most cathartic release I’d ever had.

Ryland’s breath was ragged and his eyes wild as I increased my pace fractionally to drive him over the edge.

“So hot,” he grunted. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl. Oh, God.” His release barreled into me, bathing me with warmth as his breath stuttered in his chest. He started to cough, and I gave him a panicked look, but he shook his head as I climbed off of him.

“Was it worth it?” I scolded.

He smiled and nestled me against his arm, kissing me softly on the forehead.

“It always is with you.”

Chapter Thirty

It took Ryland all of one week before he declared he was ready to go back to work. Any sane person would have tried to reason with him, but I knew there was no reasoning with him when he was this way.

It was a side of him I hadn’t ever seen before. He was on edge and going stir-crazy locked up in his apartment. He’d been trying to conduct business from his laptop and cell phone all week, and all of his employees were bearing the brunt of his frustration.

I’d made myself scarce and let him do what he needed to do while I locked myself away in the sewing room. I’d thrown myself into random projects here and there before I felt restless myself. But then I spotted some rolls of tulle, and the wheels in my brain started to spin.

I flipped through patterns and designs as I sought out inspiration. And then it hit me. Like a mack truck.

I don’t know what inspired me to think this was a good idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. I started with one skirt, then I kind of went crazy. Now I had about ten variations, along with a handful of leotards. They were unique with fun patterns and designs, and I had no idea what I would do with them.

But for the first time in a long time, I was proud of something I had accomplished.

Until Ryland opened the door and a surge of guilt flooded through me. I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t know how he would handle it. So I rushed up to him and helped him adjust his tie while he tried to look around the room.

“What are you working on in here?” he eyed me suspiciously.

“It’s not finished yet.” I tugged his hand and pulled him from the room.

“And besides, it’s a mess in there, you’d hate it.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Sure it doesn’t.”

“I mean it.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “I love your little messes.”

The words slipped from his lips unexpectedly, and I could tell they had surprised him too. Since that day in the hospital, he hadn’t outright told me

he loved me again. It was an honest admission and one that made him vulnerable. Something Ryland never liked to be.

“I have to get going,” he said quickly, wiping the moment from existence.

I frowned and started fidgeting, feeling weird about this whole situation.

Now that he was better, I didn’t know what I should do.

“I need to find a job,” I blurted.

Ryland leaned down and kissed my cheek as though he’d expected such an outburst. Then he pulled a shiny black card from his wallet. Knowing better than to try to hand it to me right away, he set it on the counter and gave me a moment to come to terms with it.

“I don’t want you to worry about work,” he said. “I want you to focus on your sewing for now.”

“Ryland…”

“And spending time with Nicole,” he added. “Matt has to go back to work today as well, so he’ll be dropping her off here soon.”

I gave him a suspicious glare, wondering if this was a ruse to keep me busy so I didn’t have time to wonder what he was up to. Of course, I wanted to look after Nicole, but I’d talked to her every day on the phone, and she sounded much better.

Ryland strode to the door, and my opportunity was slipping away. It had to be said. There was no way that it couldn’t be said.

“What are you going to do about Brayden?”

He spun around, and his eyes had turned to ice again.

“I don’t want you to worry about these things, Brighton.”

A dry laugh burst from my throat as I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? They’re my family, Ryland. Of course, I have to worry about these things.”

“You’re not like them,” he argued.

“Yes, I am.” I frowned. “I’m from the same stock, Ryland. I’m no better, no different. Their blood runs through my veins, and that’s not something that will ever change.”

My words hardened his jaw, and he looked away. I wasn’t going to lie, it stung.

“Is that the only way you can be with me?” I rasped. “To pretend I’m not one of them?”

He closed the distance between us in three long steps, crushing me against him.

“Of course it isn’t.” He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. “I don’t see it that way. I don’t see you that way.”

His words were meant to comfort me, but they didn’t. Because I knew it was true. That in his mind, he had put us all into neat little boxes. He had separated the truth of the situation from reality. He may have wanted to believe I was someone else to ease his own conscience, but it didn’t change anything.

“You didn’t tell the police what he did,” I said, getting back to the topic at hand. “So that means you must be planning something.”

He pulled away and gave me a hurt expression like I was defending the other team.

“I know what he did was wrong.” I pulled him back to me. “But, Ryland, this needs to stop now. I’m here, aren’t I? I took care of you. That shows you how I feel about you. I’m here. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to lose them either.”

“That’s the whole point of the game, Brighton.” He gave me a sad smile.

“Somebody has to lose.” *** Twenty minutes after Ryland left, Matt and Nicole showed up at the door.

“You’ll take care of her?” Matt asked, lingering in the hallway with a frown.

“Of course I will,” I assured him.

“Go.” Nicole shooed him away. “You’re going to be late.”

Matt left, reluctantly, and Nicole sighed as she wandered over to an empty barstool.

“I don’t need to be babysat. It was a stupid mistake.”

“But it wasn’t the first time it’s happened,” I pointed out. “Everybody’s worried about you.”

“I know,” she grumbled. “But it was just too much, you know?”

“I do.” I blew the hair out of my eyes and collapsed beside her.

“How are things going with you anyway?” she asked.

“Well, they’d be better if I didn’t think my boyfriend and my brother still want to kill each other,” I replied without humor.

Nicole nodded and tapped her fingers on the marble countertop. “What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? Neither one of them will be honest with me. And Norma… well she won’t listen to reason either.”

Nicole nodded, obviously not knowing what to say. Like me, she had no idea how to get out of this vortex, but I didn’t want to keep pulling her down with me. So instead, I put on a smile and tugged her hand as I stood up from the breakfast bar.

“C’mon, I want to show you something.” *** “Brighton, these are gorgeous.” Nicole ran her fingers over the tutus with the first honest happiness I’d seen on her face in a while.

“Thank you.” I blushed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with them, but… I thought it would be nice to do something good. Something to honor Sophia’s memory.”

Her name felt strange on my tongue, and the same familiar burn of guilt was there whenever I said it. I tried to push the image of the mangled girl in the car from my mind. I wanted to think of her as the tiny dancer with the golden halo instead.

Nicole clapped a hand over her mouth and shuddered, and immediately I thought this was the worst idea I’d ever come up with.

“I knew it.” I gathered up the Tulle and tried to put it away. “This was so stupid of me.”

“No.” Nicole reached out and stopped me. “It wasn’t. It’s perfect.”

She smiled through the tears, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Did you know that this machine was his moms?” she asked.

Something swelled inside my chest as I swung my gaze to the vintage sewing machine. “It was?”

“Yes. That’s why it’s so perfect. It’s like she meant for you to have it.”

“I can’t believe Ryland let me use it…”

“I couldn’t think of anyone who would put it to better use,” Nicole said softly. “And I want to help you with this project.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I mean, I can’t sew. But I want to help find a use for these. Like a charity or something.”

“That would be nice,” I hedged. “But what do you think Ryland’s going to say about all this?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “And honestly, I don’t care either.”

I stared at her, shocked by her bluntness.

“He isn’t the only one who lost them,” she ranted. “And everybody grieves differently. While he’s running around plotting revenge to get him through, I have nothing. And I want to do this. I want to remember the good parts of their lives.”

The passion and fire in her eyes as she spoke made the decision for me. I hadn’t seen Nicole look so determined the entire time I’d known her. And right now, this was exactly what she needed.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Then we’re really going to do this.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Ryland doesn’t even have to know.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Over the next two months, Nicole and I worked tirelessly on our project during any spare time we had. It was difficult keeping it from Ryland, but I made sure to keep him out of the sewing room and limit my activities to the time he was at work.

Brayden and I still weren’t speaking, but Norma-Jean was. That morning she’d informed me Ryland had cut her off, much to her dismay. A spark of hope bloomed inside of me, and I couldn’t extinguish it with any amount of logic.

Which was why the minute Ryland walked in the door that evening, I was all over him.

He hit the door with an oomph as I pressed my naked body against him, fumbling to get his buttons undone quick enough.

Ryland didn’t argue as he discarded his suit jacket and unzipped his pants enough to free himself. I clung to his body when he picked me up and spun me around, seeking out the tender flesh of my neck with his teeth. He fucked me hard and fast against the wall, rattling the picture frames and shattering a vase beside us in the process.

When he’d filled me with his release and collapsed against the wall, I finished undressing him and tugged him along to the sofa behind me.

“You’re going to kill me,” he teased, pulling me onto his lap. “You’ve been insatiable lately.”

It was true, though I didn’t know why. My entire body was a live wire, constantly humming with sexual energy. Every part of me was tender, including my breasts, and the slightest touch turned me into a useless puddle of hormones.

“Are you complaining?” I kissed my way down his chest.

“Does it look like I’m complaining?” he gripped his hardening cock in his hand.

I grinned and pushed him back inside of me where I planned for him to spend the rest of the night. ***

I barely made it to the toilet before I heaved up the contents of my stomach.

Ryland trailed behind me, trying to hold back my hair while I swatted him away.

“Ugh, don’t,” I groaned. “I need to take a shower.”

He frowned and retrieved his phone from his pocket. “I think I should call the doctor.”

I reached up and stopped him as I stood on shaky legs. “I’m fine, Ryland,” I assured him. “It’s just the flu.”

He didn’t look like he wanted to leave, but he had an important business dinner tonight. He’d been talking about it all week.

“I’ll stay in bed all night,” I promised. “Okay?”

He nodded and pocketed his phone reluctantly. “I’m still going to have Nicole come by to check on you.”

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before he walked out the door, leaving me in peace to my sore stomach. Something strange had been going on with me lately, but I chalked it up to stress.

I stepped into the shower and scrubbed myself clean, enjoying the hot water on my skin. But the incessant ringing of my cell phone from the next room started to threaten my enjoyment, and I turned off the tap in frustration.

I had no idea who would be calling me repeatedly, but I guessed it was probably Ryland. He worried about me obsessively whenever something minor happened.

I padded towards the bedroom and picked up my phone, scrolling through the messages. Six missed calls from Norma-Jean. I dialed her number back and swallowed the lump in my throat when she answered on the first ring.

“What’s going on?”

“They know,” she blurted, her voice completely hysterical.

While Norma was always a little dramatic, I’d never heard her quite like this. There was real fear in her voice as she repeated the words over and over.

“Who knows what?” I demanded.

“They know Brayden’s his son,” she continued. “And that he didn’t finish the job. They’re coming after him, so he’s coming to get you.”

“Norma, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” I rubbed my temples in exhaustion. “You have to calm down and explain.”

“Frankie’s wife found out about Brayden,” she said. “And she put a hit out on him. But Brayden thinks she knows about you too that’s why he’s coming to San Francisco.”

Her words were a sucker punch to the gut. I knew that Frankie was a dangerous man. And I knew he had a wife and other kids, but I had no idea how much trouble we’d be in if she ever discovered us. But it all made sense when I pieced it together. Why we lived in some shit hole in the middle of nowhere for as long as I could remember. Why our mother had changed her name and given us her father’s last name. All the secrets that had piled up over the years, never fitting together, suddenly made perfect sense.

Had Norma really lived that way to protect us from Frankie’s family? It wasn’t something I could reconcile in my head. She didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, and yet Brayden’s words came back to haunt me.

She had a rough go of it, Brighton. Things weren’t easy for her either…

I wanted to ask her. But it wasn’t the right time.

“When’s he getting here?” I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“He’ll be there at 7:15,” Norma rattled off. “You have to take care of each other, Brighton. You have to hide. You don’t understand what these people are capable of…”

The panic in her voice scared me. Norma-Jean had never panicked over anything except for money. But right then, it was clear as day how much she loved us. And I couldn’t believe I was only just hearing it now.

“I’ll protect him,” I assured her. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” she sniffled. “Please make sure you do.”

“What about you, mom?” I croaked.

For the first time in forever, she didn’t reprimand me for using the word.

“I’ll be okay,” she assured me. “I have a cousin in Springfield who’s going to let me stay with her a while.”

A cousin in Springfield? Again, something I hadn’t been privy to.

“Okay.” I glanced up at the clock again. “I have to go get ready. Please be careful, Norma.”

“You too, Brighton. I love you.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

I had just slipped off the bracelet Ryland gave me when Nicole showed up.

“I thought you were sick?” she glanced at my purse and keys.

“I’m feeling okay now,” I muttered. “But, Nicole I need you to do me a favor.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a really big one.”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Why do I get the impression I’m not going to like it?”

“I need you to cover for me with Ryland,” I explained. “If he calls, tell him I’m asleep, and that you’re here watching TV.” “Why?” she asked curiously.

“It’s a family thing.” I wasn’t about to go into all the gory details with her already fragile state of mind. “I have to go do something for Norma, and if he knows he will freak out.”

She hesitated for a moment before shrugging in agreement. And even with all our past history, I knew I could trust her with this.

“Thank you so much.” I hugged her. “I’ll bring you back one of those cupcakes you like from down the street.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Just be careful. And don’t stay out too long.”

“I won’t.” *** If I had expected a warm reception from Brayden at the airport, I wasn’t getting one. He grabbed my arm as soon as he saw me and dragged me towards the ground transportation.

“Don’t say a word,” he hissed. “Not until we’re in the car.”

“What car?” I asked.

Again, he didn’t answer. He strode up to the rental desk and gave them a credit card with someone else’s name on it. The ID had a photo of someone who looked like him but definitely wasn’t.

The minute we were in the safety of the silver Kia, I shot him a glare.

“Whose card did you use back there?” I demanded. “I have money, you know.”

“You mean you have Ryland’s money,” he scoffed. “And how long do you think it will take him to track that down?”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped.

Brayden looked at me as if I were an idiot before his expression softened to pity.

“Who do you think tipped them off, Brighton?” he asked.

His accusation stung, but I let it bounce right off of me.

“No way.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Brayden slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “When are you going to wake up? Yes, he fucking would.”

“I don’t believe that,” I argued.

“He said he has some kind of a business function tonight, didn’t he?”

I tried to hide my shaking hands by crossing my arms and staring out the window. “Yeah, so what?”

“Did he invite you?”

I didn’t want to answer him because I knew where he was going with this.

And suddenly, my rock solid foundation was beginning to crumble.

“Did he invite you?” he repeated.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Brayden.”

“I don’t know how to get through to you.” He shook his head as he gunned it onto the interstate. “I don’t know how to make you see.”

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“To anywhere that isn’t fucking California,” he replied, his knuckles whitening from the intensity of his grip on the wheel.

“I’m not leaving California,” I argued. “I can get you a hotel room somewhere, Brayden. Somewhere that you’ll be safe. And then we can figure this out…”

“Goddammit, Brighton!” he growled. “That isn’t going to stop them. This is going to be the first place they look for us.”

“How do you even know all of this is happening?” I asked, questioning his sanity for the third time in the last six months.

“A friend of Frankie’s called me,” he spat. “The same guy that called to tell me he was dead. He knew about us, and Frankie trusted him. It’s why he tipped me off.”

“Well, we can’t just run away,” I tried to reason with him. “You don’t even have a plan.”

He didn’t reply, and as the lights of the city grew more distant, panic started to eat at me.

“You’re going too fast,” I barked. “Slow down.”

Brayden didn’t hear me. He kept looking in the rearview mirror, and his body tensed as he weaved in and out of traffic.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

I turned around, seeing nothing but the flash of other headlights behind us as we left them behind.

Brayden continued to drive in silence, and I didn’t know what else to do.

The roads were getting windier, and the moon rose higher in the sky as we drove along the coast. I still had no idea where he was going.

“Do you have your phone on you?” he asked.

I nodded and pulled it out of my pocket, assuming he was going to call Norma. But he grabbed it from me and tore the battery out before tossing it out the window.

“What the hell, Brayden?” I yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

“He could use it to track you.” He shot another paranoid glance in the mirror.

“Ryland isn’t tracking me,” I repeated calmly. “He’s at a business dinner.

And he’s expecting me to be home, so we need to stop now…”

My words trailed off as Brayden floored it again, his eyes growing wide. He was staring at something behind us.

When I swiveled around in my seat, I could only see one pair of headlights now, and they were moving way too fast to be a coincidence.

“They’ve been following us since Fremont,” Brayden said. “Goddammit, they knew I was coming. I’m so sorry, Brighton.”

His words sounded so final, so hollow, I didn’t want to accept them. But as he eyed the ocean beneath us, I knew what he was thinking. This is where we would die.

He pushed on the gas, gunning it as fast as the little Kia could go. But it was no match for the SUV behind us.

The first time they crashed into the bumper, I screamed in abject horror as the car started to fishtail. Brayden slammed on the brakes in an effort to get it under control, which gave the SUV the perfect opportunity to nudge us over the embankment.

I vaguely heard the sound of glass shattering and the crunch of metal. I was jerked around on the most violent of rollercoasters before everything went black around me. *** My senses came back to me slowly, and not all at once.

The first thing I felt was a searing pain in my leg, followed by the gentle lapping of water around my ankles. Smoke filled my nostrils and stung my eyes, but I couldn’t quite make sense of it.

I blinked several times, and my head felt like it was underwater. My ears rang painfully before my hearing came back.

I heard Brayden’s voice. But he was no longer beside me. He sounded further away. Too far away.

“What’s the matter?” he taunted. “Can’t do it? You’ve finally got your chance, so take it, you fucking coward.”

I didn’t understand the venom in his tone. I didn’t understand what he was saying. But it all became clear when Ryland spoke.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Brayden grunted, and a strange sort of laughter bubbled up from his chest.

“It’s not as satisfying as you thought, is it?” Brayden sneered. “At least I had the guts to look you in the eye, but you had to hire someone to do your dirty work for you. Now you’ve got me right where you want me, and you can’t even pull the trigger. So fucking typical.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryland growled.

“You have to finish this,” Brayden continued. “You know you do. Because if you don’t, I will. Just promise me that when you get home tonight and give Brighton a kiss, you won’t rub it in her face. Let Norma break the news to her.”

I didn’t understand why Brayden was saying these things. But as the fragments of our earlier conversation replayed through my mind, it all started to make sense.

He’d been right all along. Ryland really did plan this. And he was here to kill Brayden. My flesh and blood. But Brayden was trying to protect me because they must not know I was in the car.

As I looked around me, I could understand why. I was crushed into a tiny pocket of metal, with no way out. And judging by the pain, I was in bad

shape.

I couldn’t get to Brayden. I couldn’t stop Ryland from whatever he was about to do. A sob escaped from my chest as I tried to push the metal away.

It groaned but didn’t move.

“What was that?” another man’s voice spoke.

Brayden cursed, followed by the sound of sploshing beside me. We must have been partially submerged, but I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t see my feet, but I felt the water.

A knife tore through the airbag followed by the face of a man I didn’t recognize.

“There’s a girl in here,” he said in confusion. “Shit, and she’s bleeding all over the place.”

When I looked back down at my leg, I realized he was right. I clutched the wound and tried to stem the bleeding, but it wasn’t any use. There was too much, and I was too weak.

The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me again was the sound of Ryland shouting my name. *** I woke to the steady drone of beeping, and the brightness of fluorescent lights above me.

The smell of disinfectant told me I was in a hospital. I had tubes and wires attached to my body, and I felt like I’d been flattened by a steam roller. But it wasn’t like the movies. I didn’t have the luxury of temporary amnesia or confusion. I remembered exactly why I was there.

So when I caught a glimpse of Ryland’s face beside me, the first thing I did was try to scream.

“Get out!”

It came out like dry sand, scratchy and indecipherable.

“Brighton?” he tried to clutch my hand, and I pulled it away, searching desperately for the call button.

“Get out!” I tried again.

This time it came with more force, and much to my relief, the more I repeated it, the louder my voice became.

Ryland stepped back as though I had slapped him and held up his hands in defeat.

“I won’t touch you…” he said softly. “Please just calm down.”

The nurse showed up a moment later, giving me a concerned expression as she stepped inside of the room.

“Miss. Valentine, are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“I want him out of here.” I pointed a shaky finger in Ryland’s direction. “I don’t want to see his face.”

She looked confused for a moment but nodded and pointed towards the door.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ryland snapped. “She just woke up. She needs some time to come to terms…”

“I’ll call security,” the nurse threatened, reaching for the phone beside me.

Ryland clamped his jaw shut and gave me a pleading expression.

“Please, Brighton,” he begged. “Hear me out. Please… don’t kick me out. I need to be with you, to make sure you’re okay.”

I didn’t respond. The nurse looked at me for approval, and I nodded before she started dialing.

Ryland sighed in defeat and walked towards the door slowly.

“I’ll be in the waiting room,” he declared. “I’m not going anywhere, Brighton. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Your brother is fine,” the doctor explained. “He’s resting right now. He has a few cuts and bruises and a broken arm, but nothing too serious.”

“Are you sure?” I asked him again. “I want to see him.”

“You will,” he assured me. “But we had to give him a sedative when he came in. He won’t be awake for another few hours. In the meantime, I need to talk to you about your condition.”

The last thing I cared about was my condition, and I tuned him out while I plotted how I could get to Brayden’s room. But then something he said caught my attention, and all the blood drained from my face.

“Eight weeks pregnant, give or take…”

“I’m sorry,” I stopped him. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said are you aware that you’re eight weeks pregnant?” the doctor arched a brow.

“That’s not possible,” I stuttered. “I’m on the shot.”

The doctor frowned and flipped through his chart. “When was your last shot?”

I tried to tally up the months in my head when a sick feeling washed over me. I vaguely remembered getting a message from the doctor that Ryland had organized for me before Brayden had stormed into his office. That was two and a half months ago. Nearly six months total since I’d had the shot.

“It’s been six months,” I sobbed. “Oh my God… I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m afraid the shot only lasts for three,” the doctor replied. “But you do have options, Miss Valentine. I could send someone to discuss them with you if you’d like…”

“Is it… is my baby okay?” I blurted. “The accident…”

“The baby is okay.” He gave me a hopeful smile. “We managed to detect a heartbeat, and all looks well. You do have a rather large cut on your leg though, and a mild concussion, so we will need to keep you for observation.”

He continued to talk, but I didn’t hear a word. I was going to be a mother.

To Ryland’s baby. Another sob escaped my chest, and the doctor clutched his chart before checking my IV.

“I think perhaps you should get some rest,” he said gently. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal tonight. Everything will feel better in the morning.”

There was hope in his voice, and I didn’t want to dash his optimistic attitude. Because it wasn’t going to be alright. But either way, I would be a mother, and my whole world was going to have to change. *** Brayden came to see me in the middle of the night, followed by an angry nurse in his wake.

“Sir, I told you, you can’t be in here right now.”

“It’s okay,” I told her. “Please, let him stay. He just wants to make sure I’m alright.”

She gave him another stern expression before handing him some paperwork.

“Fine, but you still need to sign the discharge papers.”

She walked out and closed the door behind her, and Brayden reached down to clutch me in his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry, Brighton. Are you okay? God, you were bleeding all over the place. I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.” He collapsed into the seat beside me where Ryland had been earlier.

He looked exhausted, and his clothes still had blood on them.

“Why did you discharge yourself?” I asked. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “And I can’t stay here, Brighton. Now that I know you’re okay…”

He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Brayden, please…”

“He tricked me just to get me here. I played right into his hands. Frankie’s wife has known about us all along. She doesn’t give a shit.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Norma-Jean spoke to her,” he explained. “She called to try to reason with her. It turned out, Frankie had been lying to us all along. He never had any ties to the mob. He was a hired gun for some sort of loan shark, but he told us that so he wouldn’t have to be responsible for us.”

“So we’re not in danger then?” I asked in confusion.

“Not from Frankie’s family. It’s why he’s dead. He paid for his sins, but it doesn’t change anything. I have to end this, Brighton,” he said calmly. “I know you think you love Ryland, but this is never going to stop.”

“No.” My lip quivered, and I looked away. “It isn’t ever going to stop.

Because you both keep trying to kill each other. I can’t fucking handle this anymore, Brayden.”

My voice rose, and I was becoming hysterical, but I didn’t care.

The door burst open a moment later, with Ryland and the same angry nurse.

“That’s it,” she growled. “I’m calling security.”

“I want them both gone,” I snapped. “I don’t want to see either of you again.”

They both looked at me with pained expressions while the nurse made the call.

“Brighton…” they pleaded simultaneously.

“You can both keep playing this twisted game,” I cried. “But I’m done. I’m out. I have nothing left to give anymore. ” An eery silence fell over the room while they both processed my words. I meant what I said, and they could see that.

I was done. I wouldn’t be like Norma. I wouldn’t raise my child living in fear and holing myself away.

Security arrived a few minutes later, and neither one of them said another word as they were dragged from the room. It was the first peaceful feeling I’d had in six months. ***

Stutter

A Bleeding Hearts Novel by A. Zavarelli

My heart is a compass, and it always leads me back to you.

Chapter One Ryland Obsession was a fickle beast.

One minute, it was bloodlust, and the next it was sunshine wrapped in silk. I’d never been one for poetics or waxing philosophical, but I could write a bible about Brighton fucking Valentine. The red-headed bombshell came into my life and tipped the whole world on its axis.

Obsession.

It clawed at me and burrowed deep into my skin, eating at the layers of self-entitlement I’d constructed over the years.

I was entitled to my rage. My hatred. I was entitled to purge the world of the very life essence I despised with the fire of a thousand suns.

And, finally, I was entitled to her.

But in the end, she had been right. I couldn’t have them both.

Cue the cruel and mocking laughter from the puppet master of this fucked up sideshow.

My plans had been derailed and replaced with something else. For purposes of description, I’d call it an unexpected hiccup. But not weakness.

Never weakness.

I fucking despised weakness. Weakness was my father, Michael Lockhart. Weakness was the man I’d been six years ago, unable to save Sophia. Weakness had no place in my heart or my mind, and that was the conundrum. In this case, x plus y did not equal z. There was no simple solution. There were no trivial plot points in the story of Brighton and Ryland. No insignificant drivel to drive a wedge between us. Only the hard shit. The impossible choices.

To be horrifically frank, there was only one solution that gave me what I wanted in this scenario. It involved sacrifice. And if you were familiar with my shenanigans and had a lick of sense about you, you’ve surely surmised that I was a selfish bastard by now. You’d be right. A man

like me didn’t make sacrifices. Not anymore. Men like me took. And the world bent over and gave it up without a fight, because, well, we were just that goddamn charming, right?

I was raised in a good family. Practically came out of the womb with a silver spoon in my over-privileged mouth. Michael groomed me to be an esteemed businessman like him, all the while my mother doted on me and told me how handsome and sweet I was. I had it made.

But it was an illusion, you see. They had it all wrong. I wasn’t sweet. And I would never do business like my father.

When they were dead and buried in the ground, I’d embraced a new motto in life. Fuck anyone who gets in your way before they can fuck you first. Ruthless. Those were my business practices. I ruled with an iron fist in my personal and professional life. I was accustomed to getting my way by now, and I wasn’t at all ashamed of it. Why should I be? After all, everybody secretly wants things to go their way. Spare me the selfrighteous bullshit and just acknowledge it’s a cold, hard truth.

I’d always had a dark side. Dark fantasies. When my grief was so thick I could practically choke on it, I used it as an excuse to indulge. A nip here, a belt mark there, a little rough spanking every now and again. It was all child’s play until Brighton came into my life.

She made the beast rear its ugly head. Stirred fantasies in my mind I would have never otherwise entertained. Owning her wasn’t enough.

Controlling her didn’t douse the inferno blazing inside of me. No, I needed more from her. I needed everything. Body, mind, soul.

Cruel?

You’d be the judge on that. Was it cruel if someone asked for it?

Begged for it, even? She always begged. Even now, I could hear her whimpering for me. Christ, those noises she made. A one-way ticket to heaven.

If we were going with cheesy metaphors, Brighton was undoubtedly an angel. That milky skin, those rosy cheeks… the way her lips parted just so when I touched her in all the right places. And where did that leave me for wanting to corrupt something so pure? Surely, that would be the devil.

I’d tainted her. Debased and degraded her. And I’d enjoyed every moment of it. I wouldn’t lie about that. My moral compass was broken, sure. But there was something still intact. Something that I’d sort of wished

would disappear. Most people would call it a conscience. To me, it was nothing more than a hindrance.

But that was neither here nor there.

Truth be told, none of it made a lick of difference anymore. Good, bad, right, wrong. It all faded and blended together into one giant hole of blackness since she’d gone.

I had a theory about Lucifer. About his true intentions. But as I mentioned before, I wasn’t one for waxing philosophical. So instead, I’d like to skip ahead to the most important question. Could the fallen ever really be redeemed?

The last five years had been a series of carefully orchestrated events.

Every move, every strategy had been poured over in painstaking detail before it was set into motion.

Pieces on a chess board.

A collision of fate and circumstance. I’d planned for every hitch.

Every contingency. Except for the one that blindsided me like a vat of acid to the face.

I fell in love with her.

Had it been anyone else spouting such out of character nonsense, you probably wouldn’t have batted an eye. But for a man who already had such obsessive tendencies, it was a recipe for disaster. It was, in fact, the reason why I was sitting in this upscale boutique on a Wednesday afternoon when I should have been working.

The woman across the desk had been sporting fuck-me eyes for the last twenty minutes while I stared off into the empty abyss. She’d informed me that the menagerie of glittering jewels laid out before me were all precious gems. I’d concluded she didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Don’t get me wrong. The jewels were nice. Exquisite even. They reeked of sophistication and money. And therefore, they were completely worthless. Anything this pretentious would smother the very life right out of Brighton’s innocent soul. She wouldn’t wear any of it, and this had been a wasted trip.

How did I ever think this was a good idea? I shook my head in disgust and pushed the velvet display case back to the attendant seated across from me. She wasn’t pleased by this.

“Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for, Mr. Bennett.”

I closed my eyes, and all I could see was Brighton crushed into that pocket of metal. Blood. So much fucking blood. Hollow breaths. Smoke and water. Her tears and my dread, so thick it suffocated me. These images haunted me day and night.

Did I deserve them? You’d probably say yes, and again you’d be right. I knew that now. But did it matter?

Little too fucking late.

I needed a drink. Maybe a priest. Something to numb my blackened soul and vanquish this nightmare.

“What does one get for the woman they almost killed?” I asked.

The attendant’s head rattled with nervous laughter, her eyes darting about. She thought I was joking.

I wasn’t.

“What says, I’m really fucking sorry, and I need you to believe me?”

The insufferable giggling persisted, only to be followed up by a fluttering of lashes. She didn’t get it- I was really asking her. Desperation had a strangle hold on me.

She finally got a grip on herself and pointed to the gaudiest ring on the display case. “I like to say bigger is better in this case.”

I frowned at her salacious tone and actually shuddered. For all of my faults, there was one thing that remained steadfast in my intentions. I only wanted one woman, and it wasn’t the one sitting across from me.

“I’ll think it over.”

I pushed back my chair, and the attendant scurried to her feet. “Just let me know if there’s anything special you’d like. I can find it, I’m sure of it.”

“Of course.” I gave her a thin smile. What I needed wasn’t in this store though. Redemption couldn’t be bought here.

I stepped outside and met Ted at the curb. He endeavored idle chit chat while driving me back to work, but I wasn’t in the mood. I hadn’t been in the mood for anything but wallowing in my own self-loathing for the last month.

I dialed Mick, and he answered on the first ring. For the tidy sum I padded his bank account with, I’d expect nothing less.

“Yeah, boss?”

I got straight to the point. “How’s my girl today?”

“All’s quiet on the home front,” he replied. “Don’t think she’s even left the apartment.”

I should’ve been content with that. I wasn’t. Like the greedy fiend I was, I’d grown more demanding of the photos I required to see me through the day. It was the only connection I had to her, and yes that’s what it had come to. I wasn’t proud. I was in love. And love’s a bitch.

“I want an update every hour,” I said. “Even if there’s nothing to report.”

Mick was silent for a moment before mumbling his agreement. He had his own opinions on this whole situation. Opinions I had no inclination to hear or give a fuck about.

“You got it, boss.”

I moved to hang up before I thought of something else. “Did she get my flowers today?”

“She sent them back, sir,” he said quietly.

As I expected. It was the same every other day.

Chapter Two

Brighton Staring down at the sonogram in my hand, I fought away tears for the fifth time that day. I still couldn’t believe Ryland and I had made this. It was only a little squiggle, but it was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

The moment was bittersweet. Ryland should have been here with me, staring at what we created in awe. We should be experiencing all of these things together. But he still didn’t know, and I didn’t know when or if I could tell him.

I was scared. For so many different reasons. I didn’t know what he was going to think. But even worse, I was scared that he would never let go of his need for revenge. And I couldn’t bring my baby into that mess. I wouldn’t.

Even still, I missed him so much it hurt to breathe. Most days, I could barely get out of bed. A month had passed since I’d seen him. A month of unending pain. I knew it wasn’t good for me or the baby to be so stressed, but I couldn’t help it. I hated him. I loved him. It felt like my heart was split in two. After everything, I still wanted him. But I doubted I’d ever be able to trust him again.

I picked up the photo I’d had framed of us. It was the only one I had. The night we were photographed by the paparazzi. The night he’d showed the world I was his. But he’d had an ulterior motive for doing so.

Even that moment was tainted by darkness. There wasn’t a single part of our relationship I could recall that wasn’t. That was the way it always went with him. Pleasure and pain.

But not anymore.

I needed to put Ryland out of my mind. I needed to do what was best for me.

It was time to move on.

*** The landlord arched a brow at me expectantly while I took another look around the apartment. “Well?”

I clutched my purse a little tighter and gave him a stiff nod.

“I’ll take it.”

Nicole wrinkled her nose and squeezed my arm as if I’d lost my mind. “Brighton, are you sure about this?”

I gave her a weak smile and shrugged. Sure the place wasn’t the best. The walls had some cracks. And the paint was probably lead based. It kind of smelled like old socks. But it was in my budget, which was really the only determining factor at this point.

For the last month, Nicole and I had both been crashing at Matt’s cousin’s house. It was very generous of her to offer, but I knew I couldn’t stay there indefinitely. I had enough in my savings to live off of for six months if I was careful. And that meant settling for a less than stellar apartment.

“Nicole, I can’t stay at Misha’s. I need to get established somewhere of my own before the baby comes.”

“Yeah, I know,” she whispered. “But I’m pretty sure this neighborhood has like the highest murder rate in San Francisco.”

The landlord snorted and scratched his balls. “Are you gonna’ take it or what? I have other shit to do.”

“Yes,” I said again, a little more resolutely this time.

Nicole sighed and turned to the landlord, gesturing between us. “She means we’ll take it. As in both of us.”

“Nicole…”

“Nope.” She raised her hand and gave me a stern expression. “I’m coming with you. No way in hell am I letting you live in this neighborhood alone. And you’re right. I’m not working at the Bennett Corporation any more, I need to start thinking more realistically in terms of money.”

I reached over and hugged her before the landlord slapped down a lease. I knew Nicole was only doing this as a favor to me, but I was grateful nonetheless. She’d left her apartment and her job when she found out what happened, and she hadn’t spoken to Ryland since.

I didn’t know how I felt about that, but Nicole insisted it had been a long time in the making. She assured me she would have quit regardless of the car accident, and she didn’t want an apartment that wasn’t rightfully hers.

The landlord cleared his throat, and we both laughed. He was already getting annoyed with us. I picked up the pen, and with a shaky hand, hovered over the dotted line. The irony wasn’t lost on me that the lease was for six months. I had to swallow down my nerves as I pushed the pen to paper. The last time I’d agreed to a contract for that length of time, all hell had broken loose.

Chapter Three Ryland Three am.

Sleep eluded me.

The quiet whir of the ceiling fan overhead mingled with the shallow breaths dragging from my lungs. The faintest hint of her still lingered on the bedsheets, taunting and teasing me. I hadn’t washed them since she’d gone.

Mementos of her littered my apartment. Her clothes, her jewelry, her sticky notes with reminders scrawled on them in child-like loops and swirls.

I couldn’t let these things go. I figured if she hadn’t come back to collect yet, hope still breathed.

It was fading though. As was my control of this situation.

Every night I lingered on the edge of reality and insanity. Imagining her face brought me peace, if only for a moment. Then it always blurred into something else. Blood. Smoke. Water. Pain.

Gone.

I groped around the bed for her nightgown and brought it to my face. It still smelled like her. Strawberries and sunshine. Christ.

Smoothing the silk material through my fingers, I recalled fondly the way it slid against the decadent curves of her body. Reminisced on the pleasant sound of threads giving way as I freed her creamy flesh from its gilded cage. The bite of leather against her skin and the way she came alive for me. Marking her with arrogant ownership. She was too lenient with me sometimes, and oh what a heady fucking feeling that was. I believed her when she said she loved me. And I also believed I could still have her once I’d gotten my way.

What a fucking prig.

Self-deprecation was not an attractive quality, but that’s what it’d come to. For a small while, I held an angel in the palm of my hand. Like one of those little dancers in the musical jewelry boxes. All I had to do was

wind her up and watch her shine for me. Nobody else could do that. It was all for me. And now only the memories remained.

I slid the nightgown down and wrapped it around my cock, fisting myself through the silk.

Was that judgment I heard in your thoughts? Did you forget that I was a man? This is how we deal. We could be deep in the clutches of grief and still get a fucking hard on. Blame it on biology.

It didn’t mean I didn’t feel things. I felt plenty. I had Brighton to thank for that. She walked into my life and blew everything to smithereens.

Talk about the best laid plans…

I envisioned her spread out over my desk, her ginger spiced locks spilling over her shoulders like a flaming halo. I curled and twisted those silky threads in my hands, tugging until two bright hazel orbs stared back at me. Often, I had trouble deciphering the exact color of her eyes. They changed so frequently depending on her moods. Sometimes they were liquid amber, warm and inviting. Other times, I’d find them tinged with blue or gray. There’d been times they shut me out, but she’d never gone cold. Brighton was never, ever cold.

Right now, they were burnished caramel. Hot and sweet and filled with naughty promises. Her lids were heavy like I’d drugged her into narcosis. She was high on me- I knew- because the same drug ravaged my own veins. Thick and potent it burned as I dragged my fingers down her spine and groped her heart shaped ass.

Pure perfection. My cock itched with the need to purge this agony from my system. It was too soon. Always too soon. I smacked Brighton’s pretty little ass cheek in reproof, enchanted by the tiny noise that tore from her throat. It was her fault I was in such distress. If she wasn’t so goddamn exquisite, I could make it last forever.

Rough hands slid around her front, her tits filling my palms with each stuttered breath she drew. My cock dragged in and out in a measured tempo so as not to plunge from the ledge just yet. Her snug pink pussy sucked me deeper in an invitation I could not refuse. Christ, she had such a pretty little pussy. If you didn’t agree that pussies could be pretty, it’s because you’d never seen hers. Brighton’s was the prettiest.

Fucks sake, I’d reverted to a boy in the schoolyard.

Back to the fantasy. Brighton was in my debt, and nothing short of proper chastisement would do. She’d made me wait. She alone had

sentenced me to muddle through every insufferable day in her absence.

Didn’t she know I couldn’t function without her? I wrapped my fingers around her throat and fucked her like a man possessed. If she’d forgotten how this worked, I’d be more than happy to remind her.

My eyes were nothing but vacuous pits of lust as I looked down upon her and shouted out my declarations of love and frustration. In the end, she’d cave recklessly to my every whim. We were simpatico, her and I. She loved to drip all over my cock while I tormented her. The dynamic of our connection couldn’t be recreated in the most intimate of sadomasochistic relationships. It was a perfect storm of events that catalyzed this bond.

From an outside perspective, my cruel and abhorrent behavior might appear nothing more than ire wrapped in thorns. At first, perhaps it was.

But Brighton’s submission and thirsty demand for more forged something else. Devout worship for the creature who flirted with my darkest desires and begged them to come out and play. I was as much her servant as she was mine.

You’d probably assumed that my grief was to blame for my insanity.

It wasn’t entirely true. It was Brighton. She made me fucking insane. Her beauty and absolute perfection dissolved any moral boundaries that may have existed within me. She hadn’t a clue that sometimes when I looked at her I could scarcely breathe. How my need for her outweighed everything else. It was the way she loved me in spite of it all that made me unable to walk away.

Misery and bliss wrestled inside of me at the silent admission, and I choked out my release, spilling it across my abs like I was sixteen years old again. Pitiful. Even my cock thought so. My hand was a poor imitation of her.

I needed my light. I needed to know she was okay.

I rolled over to check my phone, and as promised, Mick had texted me every hour on the hour. There wasn’t anything to report. I sent Brighton a text.

I didn’t expect an answer. I never got one.

The nights were the worst of it. Not having her close, her heart beating a rhythmic tattoo across my chest. I was supposed to protect her, but instead, I’d been the one to hurt her. I couldn’t stop the horrific events of that night from playing through my mind. The fear and betrayal on her face

and the stinging realization on mine. There was no forgiveness for what I’d done. I knew that. I would never forgive myself.

But this wasn’t about forgiveness. It wasn’t just want for her, it was a vital need. She was the only antidote for the bleakness that lived inside of me. My goddess. My deity. I wasn’t a believer in any religion, but I’d make an exception in this case. I’d get down on my knees and worship at her alter every day if it brought her back to me.

I couldn’t take no for an answer. A better man would have. I had no claims on such titles. Causing her pain had never stopped me before. It was part of the process. I’d dole it out, and she’d accept.

This was a different kind of pain, I’d admit it. A whole different animal. So I’d indulge her some space. For now. It was generous for me.

She didn’t grasp how the weight of my sins crushed my chest with every passing hour. How without her, there’d never be absolution.

Brighton saw the good in everyone. She saw good in me too. I’d believe for her sake it was true, lest my darkness swallow us both whole.

I still had Brayden to compete with. There weren’t enough choice words in my vocabulary to describe the many feelings I had about his weak and tarnished soul. But I wouldn’t ever lay a hand on him again. For Brighton’s sake.

She wouldn’t believe it, but there wasn’t even a question about it at this point. What happened that night couldn’t be undone, but it had undone something. I’d promptly realized I was far more selfish than could be considered purposeful. Five years of planning went out the window in the presence of five minutes of her pain. Thoughts of family and revenge forgotten I’d learned there was something I wanted more. And I almost lost it that night through my own careless actions.

I’ve washed my hands of evil plotting. As much as I liked to hand out punishments, I wasn’t too proud to receive them when warranted. I shouldn’t have tried to kill her mom and brother, maybe. I’d even felt the tiniest flicker of regret if you can believe it. You probably don’t, but who the hell gives a shit?

Brayden was digging his own grave, anyway. Back in Chicago, he’d hooked up with the usual shady contacts. Did you expect anything more from an ex-con? Okay, let me rephrase that. Did you expect anything more from the son of Frank Gallo?

I sure as hell didn’t.

Still, I wondered if Brighton knew what he was up to. Or if she’d sent him to the same special purgatory that was reserved for me. Silence.

I only hoped Brayden didn’t go digging up old dirt. Nothing good could come of that. Frankie’s associates had been well and truly paid off, but I trusted them about as much as I believed in unicorns. What they did to Brayden was of little consequence to me, but if they ever came after Brighton, they’d have a different beast to contend with.

I was the son of Michael Lockhart, but there were vast differences between him and I. Unlike Michael, I wasn’t afraid to protect the woman I loved. I’d single-handedly go to war and burn their whole organization to the ground before I ever let them harm what was mine. And there were no two ways about it- Brighton would always be mine.

Chapter Four

Brighton We’d spent the weekend moving.

And by moving, I meant Nicole’s stuff. Because I’d left all of my meager belongings at Ryland’s. Nicole was nice enough to let me borrow her clothes in the meantime, but that wasn’t going to work forever. My belly had already grown, and soon I would need some real maternity clothes.

I bought a second hand sewing machine on Craigslist for that very purpose. It wasn’t a Singer, but I would take what I could get. Nicole and I continued to work on our project, and it was quickly expanding into something even bigger than I could have ever imagined. Once Nicole put her mind to something, she was truly unstoppable.

I really needed to find a real job though. I’d been pouring all of my spare time into sewing, and as much as I loved it, I had to be realistic.

Everything was going to change in six months, and I needed to be financially prepared for that. Luckily for me, Matt said he might be able to help me out. He’d organized for me to talk to the owner of the dive bar where his waitress friend worked. They had an open position for a server which wasn’t ideal, but it was a place to start. I was heading there this afternoon.

“You want me to drive you?” Nicole asked as I glanced at myself in the mirror.

Even with the flared waist of my dress, you could still see a little baby bump if you looked close enough. I chewed on my lip, and Nicole grinned.

“You look fine, Brighton. They won’t even notice.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now get your butt in the car, or we’re going to be late.”

I followed her out of the apartment and to her car. It still felt weird every time I got into it like I was breaking one of Ryland’s rules. I understood why he had that rule now. He was afraid of me getting into a crash.

Again, with the irony.

Nicole cruised down the street and punched the automatic door locks when we hit a red light. I didn’t blame her in this neighborhood, and it only added to my stress about what I was going to do. This wasn’t somewhere I wanted to raise a baby, but what choice did I have? Things weren’t any better back at Norma’s, and there was no way I’d let my baby grow up around that.

I needed to get my shit together, and quick.

“So Matt set this up?” Nicole asked, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited for the light to change.

“Yeah, it was really nice of him. I hope I get it.”

“Me too.” She gave me a weak smile. “But how did he even know about this job?”

There was something weird in her voice, and I started fidgeting with my cardigan. I didn’t want to upset her, but I didn’t want to lie either.

“He knows one of the waitresses there.”

She nodded, as though I only confirmed what she already knew. Her entire posture changed, and she got that faraway look in her eyes.

“We should meet up with him this week,” I suggested. “I know he’d love to see you.”

It took Nicole a minute to realize I was talking to her. “What?” she blinked. “Oh, yeah, sure. We could do that.”

Twenty minutes later, we walked into the bar.

Nicole went and ordered a drink while I asked for the owner. He was an older gentleman by the name of David, and he put me at ease right away.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Brighton.” He gestured to the bar. “We can do a quick interview before the lunch crowd hits.”

I took a seat, and David brought over a piece of paper with some questions scrawled across it. Luckily for me, they were all easy to answer, and I lied through my teeth. I told him I’d waitressed before, which wasn’t

my finest moment, but I really needed this job. After five minutes, he set the paper down and gave me a grin.

“Well, Matt was right. I think you’ll do just fine. When can you start?”

I tried to contain my glee as I smiled back at him. “Whenever you need me to.”

“Okay, how about tomorrow night then? Six o’clock.”

I stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks, David. Thank you so much.” *** That night I texted Matt to tell him how grateful I was.

And then, as I curled into bed, I performed my evening ritual of reading through the texts Ryland sent me throughout the day. I still hadn’t found the courage to change my phone number. It was the last connection I had to him, and there was still a piece of me that just couldn’t let that go.

But I would only ever allow myself to look at his texts once, and it was always at night before I went to sleep.

I scrolled through the screen and tried to keep my emotional armor on while I read his usual messages.

Baby girl.

Please talk to me.

I’m thinking of you right now.

I won’t tell you what, but just know that if you were here, You’d be sore as hell tomorrow.

I love you, Brighton.

I’m not giving up on us.

I closed my eyes and released a shaky breath. Every day, it was the same version of texts. He told me how much he missed me. Begged me to talk to him. And then, professed how much he loved me. He wasn’t shy

about saying that at all now. But we still hadn’t really spoken about what happened.

He swore he was done with his revenge. That he fucked up, and he didn’t want to lose me. I wanted so badly to believe him. But he’d lied to me before, and I didn’t just have myself to think about anymore.

So I resorted to my heartbreaking ritual of typing out the same words I did every night. The message that I could never actually send.

I love you, Ryland. *** I glanced over my shoulder as I walked out of the doctor’s office and frowned. The same guy I’d seen earlier was still there, leaning against the brick wall. He was smoking a cigarette, his eyes scanning up and down the street. It was probably just a coincidence, but I could have sworn I saw him the week before too. And that was on the other side of the city.

“What’s the matter?” Nicole whispered.

“It’s just that guy,” I answered. “I don’t know, I thought I saw him last week at Misha’s place. And he’s been out here the whole time I was in my appointment. Am I being crazy paranoid?”

He looked at us, and I could have sworn guilt flickered across his face. There was something familiar about him. A hazy image of the man who cut the airbag in the car popped into my head, but I couldn’t place him now. Was this the same guy? He was huge. Like body builder type huge.

Dark hair and dark appraising eyes. Nothing in particular about him stood out, apart from the fact that he was dressed in a nice suit. It was odd for this neighborhood.

“I don’t know.” Nicole tugged on my arm. “But let’s not stick around to find out.”

We walked down the street, and when I glanced back over my shoulder, he was gone. Matt met us at a café around the corner, buying us both a hot chocolate and a muffin for lunch.

“So?” he raised his brows. “How did it go?”

“Good.” I nodded. “I’m not scheduled to have an ultrasound for a while, but I just wanted to get established with the doctor.”

“Gotcha.” Matt looked confused. This was definitely not his department.

“Sooo….” He swung his gaze to Nicole. “Misha said you were moving out?”

Nicole and I both looked at each other. We hadn’t really planned on how we were going to break the news to Matt.

“What is it?” he asked.

“We are moving out.” Nicole fiddled with a packet of sugar, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. “Brighton and I got an apartment together. In fact, we moved this weekend.”

“Oh.” Matt’s tone dropped. “Where at?”

“Well, I think for now, it would be best if nobody else knew.”

Matt narrowed his eyes and worked his jaw. He definitely wasn’t happy about this. At all.

“Nicole…”

“I’m not accountable to you,” she cut him off. “I don’t have to tell you where I’m at or what I’m doing.”

I shot her a pleading glance. I knew she wasn’t telling him because he would worry, but this wasn’t the way to go about it. She was only pushing him further away.

“Right.” He stood up and set down his unfinished coffee. “I get it, Nicole. I was just trying to look out for you. As a friend. Because that’s what friends do. But I guess I had it all wrong.”

Her lip wobbled, but she didn’t say another word. So Matt walked out the door. *** I collapsed onto my bed with a sigh. Today had been exhausting already, and I still had to work in an hour. I was nervous as hell.

Working as a receptionist was easy for me because it took minimal coordination. Waitressing on the other hand… I didn’t know how I was going to handle it. But how hard could it be?

My phone chimed. I was afraid to even look at it, but I couldn’t resist.

Missing you, baby girl.

The office isn’t the same without you.

They were Ryland’s usual texts. But as I scrolled down, I noticed there were a lot more today. And panic set in when I realized why.

Why were you at the doctor, Brighton?

What’s wrong?

Don’t punish me this way.

I need to know you’re okay.

Please, baby girl.

I stopped reading. I knew he’d be freaking out and thinking the worst. It hurt me, but I couldn’t break my rule. I couldn’t text him back.

Because that would be opening a door I wouldn’t be able to close again.

And I needed to be more concerned about the fact that he knew what I was doing.

It was that guy loitering outside of the building, it had to be.

I needed to be more careful. The last thing I wanted was for Ryland to figure out where I was living.

Chapter Five Ryland Unfuckingbelievable.

Did you know that science has actually proven swearing to be cathartic? Wonder how much it cost to figure that one out. I could’ve told them for free.

Brighton was poking the beast inside of me with her invisible stick.

Would it be hypocritical to say that I didn’t like her keeping secrets from me? I'd tasted my own medicine, and it was bitter. So very bitter.

Still, she knew how I handled this kind of shit. I didn’t. Something was wrong, and she hadn’t cracked her code of silence after any of my various texts. My frustration bled through the messages the longer this act of rebellion carried on. Usually, a good dose of my cantankerous attitude would do the trick. Brighton didn’t like confrontation. She didn’t like anyone to worry. She was always so goddamned concerned about everybody but herself. Often, I could twist that in my favor, because… well, let’s be frank, a man such as myself needed her reassurances. But this time she wasn’t giving them. Cruel and unusual punishment, I’d say.

She’d know someone on my payroll was keeping an eye on her now.

What did it matter? Brighton should know my M.O. Mick wasn’t just following her around for information. He was there to keep her safe. It was what I liked to call compromise. But I only had so much patience, and she’d just stretched it to the limit.

“Why didn’t you follow her inside?” I blared through the phone.

“She was onto me,” Mick rumbled. “You said not to get too close.”

“So you lost her completely?” My indignation was not well hidden.

“I thought you didn’t want me to scare her.”

Ah, touché, Mick. Pulling out that old fucking chestnut. No, I didn’t want him to scare her. And if she had any recollection of who he was, she probably would be scared.

“Not happy, Mick.” I rocked back in my chair and squinted at the bottle of Macallan across the room. I knew what I’d be doing as soon as this call was finished.

“I know, boss.”

“How many doctors are in that building?”

“A lot, sir.”

I could probably get her medical records. Eventually. But I’d need to know the doctor first. And if Brighton ever found out, she’d lay into me with a whole speech about ‘right and wrong.’ I hardly needed to supply extra reasons to hate me, so I’d put it on hold. For now.

“Oh, hang on. There’s something else, sir.”

I reached for the marble paperweight Brighton held in her hand on that first day, smoothing the pad of my finger over the inky blackness. If I didn’t know her so well, I would’ve wondered what it was that drew her to it.

“What is it?” I asked absently.

“That bar she was at yesterday?”

“Yes?” “Well, I had a hunch, so I’ve been hanging around the place. And she just came back here.”

“With who?” I perked up.

“She’s by herself,” he said. “But she looks like she’s wearing a uniform.”

“A uniform?”

Oh, Jesus Christ, Brighton.

I was up out of my chair before I’d even fully processed his words.

“Wait for me in the parking lot. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Chapter Six

Brighton My first night at work was not going that great.

I kept messing up orders and forgetting everything. What Nicole affectionately deemed my ‘pregnancy brain’ was going to cost me my job if I wasn’t careful.

I knew David was already losing his patience with me. I kept apologizing, but he’d ended up having to comp two tables’ meals already.

At this rate, I probably wouldn’t even have a paycheck.

I’d hoped to be eased into it, but the place was completely packed out. It was a little more overwhelming than I expected, and my feet were already killing me. But I plastered a smile on my face and told myself I could cry later when I was home in the safety of my bed.

“Hey!” Some guy in one of the booths snapped his fingers at me.

“Where the hell is our food?”

Shit.

I glanced down at my pad of paper and realized I’d never put their order in. And this was the second time he’d asked me about it.

“It’ll be out soon.” I gave him a shaky smile. I was going to lose it any minute now.

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” he bellowed.

He was obviously drunk and very hungry. And now he was pissed at me. His dark eyes narrowed when I just stood there, unable to conjure up the words I needed.

“Are you retarded?” he barked. “Do you speak English? WHERE’S. MY. FUCKING. FOO…” The moment the last syllable flew from his mouth, a fist slammed across his jaw. I stumbled backwards and bumped into a table when Ryland swung his gaze from the man he just punched back to me.

I had no idea where he’d even come from, or how the hell he knew I was here. But his eyes were glazed with ice and his voice deadly calm when

he gestured towards me.

“Apologize to my girlfriend.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the guy in the booth cut me off as he stood up and slammed his palms against Ryland’s chest.

Ryland held his ground, looking scarier than I’d ever seen him- in a suit and tie no less. His face hadn’t been shaved in what looked like a week.

Dark circles marred his normally beautiful eyes, and his jaw seemed more prominent than I remembered. And yet, his chest heaved with the force of adrenaline, like he was looking forward to pummeling this guy. Like he needed to purge himself of his darkness. I’d seen it happen a thousand times, but never in this way. He was solid and strong and completely unshakable.

The guy he’d punched spat blood out of his mouth before a crazy grin spread across his face.

“Your girlfriend’s a fucking idiot…”

Again, he was cut off by Ryland’s fist. I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in my shirt as I heard his body crumple to the ground. I knew he was out cold this time.

I darted back towards the kitchen, but a hand wrapped around my arm and stopped me.

“You’re coming with me,” Ryland clipped out.

“I’m not going anywhere with…”

“It’s cute how you think you have a choice.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me along behind him. Everyone in the bar was dead quiet as they watched the show, including David. I was humiliated.

“Ryland,” I hissed. “Let go of me.”

“What’s going on here?” David asked.

“You can consider this her resignation,” Ryland informed him.

I panicked and shook my head. “That’s not true, David. I’m so sorry about all of this. Could I just have one minute, please?”

David gave me a sympathetic glance and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Brighton. But this isn’t going to work out.”

I nodded and gave him a watery smile. I’d never been fired from a job before, and I was absolutely mortified. Ryland walked on, pulling me along with him, and I didn’t resist this time. But as soon as we were in the parking lot, I jerked away from him.

“I hate you!” I spat. “How dare you come in here and pull that crap.

What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tears streamed down my face, and Ryland didn’t look the least bit guilty. He tried to pull me back into his arms. I wouldn’t let him. No way could I allow that. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the comfort he provided right now.

“Brighton, you can’t work here,” he stated. “Let me take care of you. You have a card, I want you to use it. I’ll pay your rent, whatever you want. Just tell me where you’re living…”

“You mean you don’t know that already?” I accused. “I know you’re having me followed.”

He tightened his jaw and looked away. “You make it sound so…”

“What?” I interrupted. “Crazy? Because it is crazy, Ryland.”

“It’s for your own safety,” he said. “I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I insisted. “And I’m not going to humor these tactics of yours just to put you at ease. You need to let me go, Ryland.”

He looked like I’d slapped him as his eyes fell on mine. “I can never let you go, Brighton.”

“You have to,” I croaked.

“No.” He shook his head. “I know that isn’t what you really want. I can see it on your face, baby girl. So why are you still pushing me away?”

I couldn’t answer him. Because my reasons wouldn’t sound convincing enough with the mood I was in. My resolve was already wavering after being in his presence for five minutes. What the hell was wrong with me?

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Let me take you home.”

“No.” “Brighton…”

“No,” I said again. “I’ll have Nicole come and get me.”

“Then I’ll wait with you.”

“I don’t want you to!” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Can’t you understand that, Ryland? I don’t want you here. I don’t want anything else from you. So just go!”

His eyes filled with pain, and I had to tear mine away. I couldn’t look at him. I knew I was hurting him, but it was necessary. It was the only way I could truly do this.

“If that’s what you really want…”

“It is what I want,” I assured him in a shaky voice.

He nodded and gave me one last glance before he walked away.

Chapter Seven Ryland There had been times over the years- during the rise of my careerwhen I needed a man without a whole lot of scruples. Though I preferred to grind most axes myself, some things in the business world simply weren’t done this way. There was an entire invisible rule book one must abide by. It involved bandwagons, fire and brimstone, horses’ mouths, and so on and so forth. All very secret society type stuff. I wouldn’t bore you with the details, and you probably wouldn’t believe me anyhow.

But the next time you cross paths with a CEO richer than God, you look him in the eyes and tell me if you still feel the same. It was a cutthroat world, and I was just living in it. The competition was fierce, and if you thought the things I did were bad, you should see some of the other guys. I looked like the virgin fucking Mary in comparison.

There wasn’t an ounce of pleasure in underhanded business tactics.

Frankly, I’d prefer to get by on something I’d built off my own back. What pride could there be in something not earned through blood, sweat, and tears? These notions were all well and good in theory. But from the moment I launched my company, I had a giant thorn in my side by the name of Alex Burton. He’d been out to sabotage me from the word go. You thought I was a prick? Wait until you met this one.

Anyway, my point was there were times when he’d backed me into a corner and tried to hand me the Vaseline. Alex Burton didn’t fight fair.

And as I explained before, I had a whole motto about fucking other people before they fucked you first.

But this one was sly, and, well quite frankly he’d bested me several times over. Not because he was more intelligent by any means. Not because he tossed around smarmy smiles like dinner mints at an all you can eat buffet. No, it was because Alex was the son of Robert Burton. Otherwise known as the master of deceptive business practices. Michael had taught me a lot about business, and almost all of it did me not a lick of good. I’d learned everything on my own in the school of hard knocks.

I wasn’t about to let some over-privileged snot nose WASP come in and take it from me. So this was where Mick came in.

Where did I find the six foot six hulking behemoth, you may ask?

Good question.

Would you believe me if I told you I found him trying to hot-wire my car after he’d broken into it?

I shit you not. There he was, ever so smoothly sitting in my fucking Jaguar like he owned the goddamn thing.

I was actually quite impressed with his balls. Not that I’d ever seen them, but you get the point. Even more impressive was the fact that he’d managed to break into it without setting off the alarm. Yeah, I know… it looks so easy in the movies. But it’s really not. There isn’t a hundredthousand-dollar price tag on these beasts only to be equipped with kiddie security systems.

So, Mick intrigued me.

It was obvious he was homeless, so I invited him to take up residence on my sofa. Don’t go mistaking me for a philanthropist now- it was solely for my benefit. I saw something in Mick that could be of use to me. And soon enough, I knew exactly what that was.

Ex-special forces, Mick had racked up more medals and accolades than a homecoming queen in a high school yearbook. Raised on the streets of Detroit, he’d pulled himself out of the gutter and did everything a good soldier was supposed to. He’d made a life for himself in the face of adversity. It wasn’t until he was serving his glorious country overseas that the news came which would forever change his course.

His young and beautiful wife had been raped and murdered in their own home. I’ll spare you the gory details of everything that happened next, but it’s not too difficult to guess. The crackpot justice system failed Mick, so he took matters into his own hands. Though they’d never been able to prove it, he’d gutted his wife’s rapist like a fish.

Told you we had something in common, no? Okay, so maybe I’d never taken a life. But Mick and I, we understood each other. The only difference was once it was all said and done for him, he’d found himself at the bottom of a bottle. You already know how I felt about that. So I promptly sent him off to the best of rehabs and told him to get his fucking shit together. I had a new purpose for him.

Mick got on board with no resistance whatsoever. When he learned about my family, he was eager to help. It was nice- that sense of comradery.

The idea that we were just two vigilante enforcers out to settle old beefs.

But he drew the line when it came to hurting women, understandably so. He was the closest thing I had to a friend, even though I was technically his employer. Still, we’d been on shaky ground since that horrible night he’d discovered Brighton in the car. I didn’t quite know how to make amends for that either. Because while I gave the order, Mick was the follow through.

His was the conscience that had to live with his actions though I doubted he could possibly feel any worse than me.

I had very few people in my life who held me accountable for my actions, but Mick did. I respected him for that. I respected that he had enough morals not to cross certain lines, and to give me the appropriate doses of verbal reprimand when I needed them. I’d failed her, it was true.

However, what Mick couldn’t see was that my every move thereafter was to prevent it from happening again.

His face was impassive as I studied him. The marble paperweight sailed to and fro in my palms, the ebb and flow of its mass anchoring me.

Mick appeared every bit the oaf upon first glance, but there was a lot more lurking beneath the surface than you’d expect. He was a gentle giant, but also a deadly one. I didn’t inspire a lick of fear in him, but he bowed to me nonetheless. There were certain things he felt he owed, but it wasn’t why he stuck around.

We had an odd relationship, I’d be the first to admit it. Two vacant souls in a desolate sink hole. He respected me. At least I had that going for me. He didn’t want to disappoint the man who’d pulled him from the brink of self-destruction. But he was also hiding things from me. What did I tell you about the size of his balls?

Anticipation was as powerful a motivator as fear, in my humble opinion. Hm. I take that back. Humble, I was not. I was an arrogant fuck who only wanted one goddamn thing in this world, and right now the man in front of me was an obstacle to that, no matter how righteous his intentions.

“You see, Mick…” I drew out the words, keeping my voice tight and in control, so he knew I was being completely rational. “The thing is, I don’t like to blow my own horn. But I excelled in math. Still do, in fact. It comes easily to me. Some people, not so much. It’s a gift.”

Mick shifted in his chair and arched a brow at me. “Not quite sure what you’re getting at boss.”

“What I’m getting at is that the shit you’re peddling me doesn’t add up, your story has more holes than Swiss cheese, and your smoke and mirrors are better left to the kiddies.”

His face blanched, and he had the decency to look the slightest bit remorseful.

“I know she’s a beautiful girl.” I set down the paperweight and leaned forward on my elbows. “Sweet. Funny. Charming as hell.”

Mick smirked but wisely chose not to respond.

“She’s mine.”

There was no argument about that, and I waited for Mick’s reaction.

I doubted the big lug had actually developed feelings for her. But there was certainly something amiss, and it was time to dispense with the monkey business.

“I’m fully aware of that, sir,” he assured me.

His eyes crinkled in amusement and it relieved me to know that wasn’t going to be an issue. Out of a handful of people I trusted, Mick made the top of the list. Even smaller was the list of those- apart from myself- I deemed capable of protecting Brighton. That score consisted of one, and he was it. He excelled at what he did, but having fuzzy warmth for my girl wasn’t going to fly.

“So it’s the guilt, then,” I remarked.

Mick looked away, and bingo! We had a winner.

“She wasn’t supposed to be in the car that night,” he mumbled.

“You think I’m not blatantly aware of that by now?” I snapped.

“I know you are, boss.” He glanced at me with concern. I hated that look. Except on Brighton. My little lotus flower could worry her pretty face over me all day long. In fact, a dose of that would be well received right about now. Much better than her cavalier indifference to the useless bag of bones I was becoming.

I was a little bit of a masochist myself as evidenced by my next question. “You think I should give her up?”

Mick blinked at me and sawed his teeth over his bottom lip before answering. “I know you love her, boss. But don’t you think enough damage has been done?”

“You know what I think?” I shot laser beams into his murky brown eyes. “I think I’m not paying you to have a fucking opinion.”

Mick grunted in response. So frigging typical.

“I need you on her at all times,” I barked out. “I need to know she’s safe if nothing else. And if I find out you’re withholding her address from me on purpose…”

My email pinged. There were few matters worthy of disrupting this conversation with my old buddy, old pal. The exception, of course, was the private investigator in Chicago. In this case, no news would’ve been good news.

Mick forgotten, I opened it up without delay. I hated being right.

Photos of Brayden occupied my screen and exacerbated my animosity towards my love’s darker half. While I signed over monthly checks to keep the twins alive, he’d inflamed old wounds by getting reacquainted with Frankie’s old neighborhood.

Christ.

He was even dumber than I gave him credit for, and this was about to complicate the shit out of everything I thought I’d buried.

I hadn’t a clue when I made a deal with the devil six years ago it’d come back to haunt me like this. Alfredo had been paid enough to wash his hands of the matter until a more suitable time. Out of sight, out of mind.

But not when Brayden was parading himself all over Frankie’s old stomping grounds with a giant red target on his back. The two paths would collide, sooner or later.

Alfredo would put a bullet in his head without a second thought, money be damned. And then what? Would they try to come for Brighton too?

“We’ll pick this up later, Mick.”

He didn’t say a word as he slinked out the door. I reached for the photo proudly displayed on my desk. The only personal touch in my office, I must have looked at it a hundred times a day. She was so goddamn lovely.

My little ray of sunshine.

She didn’t believe it, but she was still as pure in my mind as she ever had been. And nobody was going to take her away from me.

Nobody.

Chapter Eight

Brighton “Are you sure you want to do this today?” Nicole asked as I flitted around and checked the clothing racks one last time.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “I still can’t believe how much work you put into this Nicole. This is really going to be amazing.”

“You did all of the hard work,” she said. “I just organized.”

“Are you kidding me? You raised more money than I ever thought possible. You turned this into a real charity. Because of you, hundreds of little girls are going to get to realize their dreams.”

“Because of Sophia,” she corrected.

She gave me a bittersweet smile as I glanced at the placard she’d had created for the foundation. Sophia’s Shoes. A nonprofit that would provide underprivileged children the opportunity to participate in ballet.

While it may have been a small kindness to the world, it was something I was incredibly proud of. One of the only good things I’d ever really accomplished in my life, I was committed to seeing the foundation grow and prosper.

The event organizer who’d volunteered her time strode up, looking completely professional in her black skirt suit as she glanced at her watch.

“It’s time,” she announced. “Shall we ladies?”

Nicole and I glanced at each other and smiled nervously as we walked towards the stage. The doors drew open, and a hundred little girls and their parents spilled into the room, filling it with laughter and light.

They all took their seats and bounced around happily as they waited.

The event organizer took to the podium first, thanking everyone for coming and making her introduction.

“And now, if you’ll all give a big round of applause for the creators of this lovely foundation, Miss Brighton Valentine, and Nicole Baker.”

We both walked up to the podium, and I fidgeted while Nicole spoke first. Though she claimed to be just as nervous, she was a little better

at this stuff than I was. I was happy to sit back and remain in the shadows, but she insisted this was something I needed to do. Something we needed to do together.

I barely heard her speech before she handed the microphone to me, and I cleared my throat as I tried to keep myself together.

“Thank you,” I stumbled over the words. “Um, thank you again for coming today. This project is something that started small. In memory of a little girl whose life was cut short…”

My eyes filled with tears and I had to pause for a moment as Nicole sniffled beside me. “This is obviously something that is very bittersweet, and while I never had a chance to meet Sophia Lockhart, I do hope this foundation will do her memory justice…”

My words trailed off as I connected to a pair of blue eyes in the audience staring back at me. They were overflowing with more emotion and pain than I’d ever seen before, and I nearly choked as I tried to wrap it up.

“So if you will please follow the instructions on your cards, and the lovely ladies at the tables will help you to get signed up.”

Nicole pried the microphone from my hand and turned it off, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Ryland. I hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks. As much as I’d told him that was what I wanted, it was a complete lie. I missed him so much. And now, without even his texts to fill the void, my world was emptier than it had ever been.

“What’s he doing here?” Nicole whispered. “How did he find out?”

I couldn’t reply. My throat burned, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the glassiness of his. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and I felt like I was betraying him somehow. I started to question everything that I was doing when he walked from the room without another glance.

“It’s okay,” Nicole’s voice wobbled. “It’s better this way. He needs time to process it. It’s good that he’s not here.”

Chapter Nine Ryland Whiskey annihilation.

The articles blurred together, and I took deep satisfaction in that. I had no inclination to keep reading them. To keep dredging up these horrible… emotions? And yet I was impressed with the publicity Nicole garnered for the event. She’d never worked so hard on any project I’d given her over the years.

She was dedicated to the cause. I was dedicated to seeing this bottle of Johnnie Walker dry by sunrise. It was Brighton who thought of this.

She’d hit me right in the tiny fissure of my armor. Hell if I knew how she kept doing that. The million-dollar question was to love or hate her for it.

Course, I loved her for it, sap that I was.

So typical of the little peach, trying to make amends for the sins of her father. It couldn’t be done. Nothing would bring Sophia back. Only death could purge those last moments from my mind. Relax Freud, I wasn’t referring to her fucking cockroach of a brother. I was talking about myself.

And no, I wasn’t suicidal either.

But goddammit if she didn’t make me question it sometimes. The gaping Brighton-shaped hole she’d left in my life couldn’t be patched up with a first aid kit or any amount of aged whiskey. The Montagues and Capulets had nothing on us. Star crossed lovers, were we doomed from the start?

I couldn’t accept that. I’d write her odes upon odes if she wanted me to. They’d be pitiful, of course. I could open up to her. Allow her a glimpse of my pain this time. She’d feed on it because she thought she could fix me.

She’d always believe there was light in the darkness. That was my angel. Even when she was on her knees- filled with my darkness- she was still shining bright. My Siren’s song, my exposed nerve. She lured me in and made me feel. And then she left me to perish.

Christ, I needed her right now. Fear had come-a-knocking, whispering that I mightn’t ever have her again. It was bound to bring on

childish antics and tantrums of epic proportions the longer she kept this charade up.

There was no way I could just let her go. The last time I’d even entertained such a hellish notion popped into my head. She’d wrecked her bracelet and coaxed my personal demons from their shadowy lairs. The terror on my face that day was irrefutable, and I’d shown my hand before I intended. So, I did what any self-respecting male would do in my situation.

I pouted. She came to me on her own that time- on her knees, no less. It only took my silence to bring her back.

I contemplated if it’d work now. Chances weren’t good. I’d fucked up plenty of times in my life (shocking, I know), but this was unchartered territory. How do you get someone to forgive the unspeakable? How do you even look at yourself knowing you almost killed the woman you love?

I couldn’t tell you exactly, I’d been avoiding my reflection since it’d happened.

She was slipping through my fingers. A tiny dot in the ocean, I stood helplessly on the shore and watched her drift away. I didn’t have a life vest, but I’d swim to her if she’d let me.

If she’d let me?

Jesus H. Christ. Were you listening to this shit? When did I become that guy? Ten months ago, I’d taken her without apology. Laid down the rules and staked my claim like the selfish prick I was.

You see? You see what she did to me?

Fucks sake. She’d turned me into a pussy. Spouting poetic nonsense at four in the frigging morning. Someone get me a handgun so I could cease with the dramatics.

Swiveling around in my chair, I kicked my heels up on the desk. I was just drunk enough not to care about the marks. Rocking back and forth, the creaking of leather filled the stark silence of the office where I spent entirely too much time.

The way I saw it, I had one of two choices. Go in guns blazing, or slow and cautious. While guns blazing always worked in the past, I wasn’t certain it’d play out in my favor this time. No doubt about it, Brighton enjoyed the dominant and even slightly sadistic parts of me. She expected them. But perhaps that tactic was doing more harm than good at this point.

I’d show her it didn’t always have to be that way. I could bend. A little. Maybe. Okay, I’d try.

Better?

I retrieved my phone and scrolled through the contacts until I found my publicist. Sophia’s Shoes was important to Brighton. Possibly, it was important to me too. I hadn’t a strong opinion on that yet. Either way, I’d throw everything I had at this.

Chapter Ten

Brighton It had been a week since I’d last seen him. The hole in my heart was growing bigger every day, along with our baby.

I didn’t know if this pain was ever going to end, but I wished it would. I wished that I could forget him. That I could just stop loving him. A part of me wondered if he and Brayden were still trying to tear each other apart, but I wouldn’t let myself think about it. I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t healthy.

So when my phone rang, and it registered Brayden’s number, I didn’t pick up. Since I’d been released from the hospital, the only person I wanted to talk to was Nicole.

The phone went to voicemail, only to start ringing again. And again.

And by the fourth time, I couldn’t ignore the tightness in my chest as I answered.

“Hello?”

“Brighton,” Brayden breathed a sigh of relief. “Please don’t hang up.”

“I’m not,” I said quietly. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I know things have been crazy. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to.”

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. “What is it?”

“Norma-Jean has been missing for over a month now,” he said. “I think… I think Ryland might have…”

“Just stop,” I grated. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Brayden did as I requested though I could tell by his breathing he was irritated.

“How do you know she’s missing?” I asked calmly. Too calmly. I was getting far too used to calls of this nature.

“Because I haven’t heard from her,” he groused. “Her phone’s disconnected, and nobody else has seen her either.”

“She said she was staying with a cousin in Springfield.” My voice was light though the feeling in my gut wasn’t as positive.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to her,” Brayden replied. “She said she was there for a week and then she split. Hasn’t heard from her since.”

I wrung my hands together as I paced back and forth in the tiny apartment I shared with Nicole. After paying the rent for the next six months in advance, I’d been living off fumes. I didn’t have enough money to get to Illinois. I would have borrowed the money from Nicole if I could, but she didn’t have it either. We were both in the same boat, and it was sinking fast.

But there was one option, even though I didn’t want to use it.

I pulled out the credit card with both Ryland’s name and mine printed on it and glared at it for a long pause.

“Are you still there?” Brayden asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up the phone and started to look at flights. As I typed the credit card number into the payment box, I told myself that even if I had to start scrubbing toilets for a living, I would find a way to pay it back. *** When I walked down to the curb an hour later, I was shocked as hell to see Ted standing there as if he were waiting for me.

“What are you doing here?” I glanced around suspiciously.

“Mr. Bennett isn’t here,” he said quickly, and obviously under instruction. “But he sent me to see that you are escorted to see your mother safely.”

“Excuse me?” I winced. “But how…”

The credit card.

Of course, he knew what I was booking the flight for. And if he didn’t have my address before, I’d just handed it to him on a silver platter.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Where is she?” I demanded.

Ted held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can assure you, she’s safe and sound. I’m only here to drive you, Miss Valentine. So if you’ll please get in the car…”

I crossed my arms and glared. “How do I know I can trust you to take me to her?”

Poor Ted didn’t stand a chance against my hormones or my emotions today.

“I guess you don’t know for certain,” he admitted. “But I give you my word if that makes any difference.”

He looked so distraught that I’d lashed out at him that I felt a little bad. So reluctantly, I climbed into the car.

“Okay, but I swear to you Ted, if I see Ryland, I have the police on speed dial.”

“I don’t doubt that, Miss.” He bowed his head and shut the door.

Like the handful of other times he’d driven me, he put on some soothing classical music. It did nothing to calm me as I bounced my knee up and down on the leather seat impatiently. We drove through the city and started to wind our way into a more suburban area where the houses became fewer and farther apart. It was making me nervous, and I clutched my phone as I called out to Ted. “This isn’t the way to the airport.”

“No, Miss Valentine, it isn’t,” he replied calmly. “Your mother is here in California. Please, just be patient.”

Being patient was the last thing I wanted to do. And Norma in California? I was going to have to see it to believe it. But I held on for a little longer, at least until we pulled up to a gated area of some sort of mansion in the hills.

“What is this place?” I asked.

Ted didn’t hear me as he spoke into the intercom. Whatever he said caused the gate to swing open, and he drove right on through. The car stopped in a circular drive surrounded by greenery and an ornate water fountain out the front. Whatever this place was, it was too big to be a house, but it didn’t look like a hotel either. Ted got out to open my door and gestured me towards the large glass doors at the top of the staircase.

“I’ll be waiting here for you Miss.”

“But… I don’t even know what this place is,” I protested.

A strange woman walked by and gave me a little wave, followed by a few other people I didn’t recognize. They were all dressed in nice clothing, but there was a weird vibe about the whole place that made me hesitate.

“I’m under instruction to deliver you here,” Ted explained. “And to wait as long as you need.”

Clearly, he didn’t know what was going on either. So I wrapped my cardigan around myself with a huff and walked up the large stone stairs, pushing open the glass door. It resembled a luxury hotel inside, with a large reception desk right at the front. I walked up nervously, and a woman with blonde hair and a friendly smile greeted me.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, I’m not really sure,” I said. “I’m here to see Norma-Jean Richmond.”

“Ah, of course.” She tapped away at the computer. “I’ll call her down for you.”

I stood awkwardly off to the side, not really sure what to expect while I waited. As I looked around, I saw more faces I didn’t recognize, but eventually, there was one I did. It was an actual celebrity from a reality TV show.

I tried to keep my mouth from dropping open when he winked at me and sauntered by.

“He’s a looker, huh?” Norma’s voice interrupted from behind me.

“A real nice guy too.”

I spun around in shock and thought the floor was about to give out on me. Because there in front of me was my mother, but I hardly recognized her.

In place of her sunken eyes, two vibrant green orbs stared back at me. Her skin had a strange glow to it, and I could almost swear even some of her wrinkles had disappeared. Her hair was shiny, and instead of being styled into its usual rat’s nest, it fell in soft waves around her shoulders. But it was the extra fifteen pounds added to her frame that really had me doing a double take.

Not to mention the clothes she was wearing. Gone were the cheap white heels and too large jeans. There wasn’t a frill in site on her beige sweatshirt or khaki pants. She looked like a… well, like a mom.

“What happened to you?” I blurted.

“What’s the matter?” she chuckled. “Don’t recognize your old mother?”

There was a kindness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in years, and an evenness in her voice I’d never heard at all. I opened my mouth, but

nothing came out. She understood that I was in shock as she gripped me by the arm and gently led me away.

“Let’s go out to the garden,” she suggested. “Get some fresh air.”

I followed her soundlessly, the wheels turning in my brain as I tried to come to grips with whatever horrible thing Ryland had done to my mother. But no matter which way I spun it, I couldn’t process it.

Norma helped me to sit down in a deck chair before taking a seat in one across from me. The scent of flowers and fresh water invaded my nostrils, and I was sure the garden was beautiful, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Norma.

“I’m clean,” she began, folding her hands across her lap like a proper lady. “One month. I know it’s not much, and I still have a long way to go, but it’s a start.”

“This is where you’ve been for the last month?” I looked around again, finally understanding this was a rehab center. One that, from the looks of it, must have cost a fortune.

“It sure is.” She laughed. “Can you believe it? Me living amongst the rich and famous?”

“But… how?”

“Ryland,” she said quietly.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Language,” she scolded.

“Oh c’mon Norma,” I retorted. “Don’t start acting like a mother now.”

She flinched at my words, and I mentally slapped myself, feeling like the worst daughter in the world.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just… I didn’t expect this, and I’m a little confused.”

“It’s okay.” She nodded. “One of the things they’ve been teaching us here is to accept responsibility for our actions. And I’m not going to deny that I’ve been a less than stellar mother to you and Brayden.”

Again, my mouth was doing that thing. Opening and closing, but no sound was coming out.

“But I do love you,” she continued. “And I want to be a part of your life, Brighton. You and Brayden are more important to me than the drugs or the booze, and it took Ryland to help me see that.”

“But… how?” I asked again.

“He opened up to me.” She shrugged. “Told me the cold, hard truth.

And I felt like such an idiot for playing right into his hands. I felt weak. I was weak. But when he told me what happened to his family, and how much pain he was in, I never wanted you or Brayden to feel that way. He gave me a choice. He handed me a one-way ticket to this place, and a needle with enough drugs to take down a horse. He said it was my decision to make, but that he wasn’t going to watch me hurt you anymore.”

“Jesus, Norma,” I sputtered.

“He was right,” she said. “All I’ve been doing is hurting the people I love. For so many years because I couldn’t see past my own misery. Losing Frankie, and then thinking he was going to come take you two away from me whenever he saw fit, well it scared the living hell out of me. I guess I tried to disconnect from all of it in the best way I knew how.”

“So you really… you gave it all up,” I said.

“I’m trying my best, Brighton.” She stared down at her linked fingers with watery eyes. “But I’m not going to make any promises other than to say that I’m going to keep on trying. Ryland’s a good man for helping me this way, though he doesn’t want to admit it himself. He’s filled with so much pain though that I worry. I worry about you with him. But he’s come to see me a couple of times, and it seems like he’s trying too.”

“He has?” I asked. “He came to visit you?”

She nodded, wiping away the tears from her eyes. “He seems lonely.

Misses you a lot.”

“Oh.” I glanced down at my shoes. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here, and that he’s helping you this way, but it doesn’t change anything between me and Ryland.”

“He told me that’s what you’d say.” She smiled. “But he wants to Brighton. He wants you to hear him out.”

“So that’s what this is all about?” I crossed my arms and started to close myself off again, thinking it had all been some sort of trick.

“No.” Norma shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything either way. But you know I’ve never been good at holding my tongue.”

I blinked up at her and held back a sob as she leaned forward and clasped my hand in hers. It was the closest she’d come to motherly affection in as long as I could remember.

“I’m the last person to give advice,” she said. “But if I can tell you one thing, Brighton, it’s that Ryland loves you with all of his heart. He

loves you so much that he put aside his feelings about me to do what he thought would make you happy. And I think that speaks for itself.”

I knew Norma didn’t know all the details of what had transpired, but I wasn’t going to bring them up either.

“But what about him and Brayden?” I asked. “They’re both being completely crazy. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’ll have to work that out with them. All I’m saying is I think that you should hear Ryland out. See what he has to say.”

“And he didn’t put you up to this?” I asked suspiciously.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “He said he wanted to do things his way. He’s a real control freak, that one.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “You have no idea.”

Chapter Eleven

Brighton When I got back out to the car, Ryland was waiting for me inside.

The divider was up, and I couldn’t see Ted, which was probably for the best. He’d obviously tricked me.

I had no idea how Ryland had even gotten there, but he looked pissed. It didn’t take me long to figure out why.

“Please tell me you aren’t seriously living in that place Ted picked you up.”

I ignored the harshness of his tone and gave him a weak smile.

“Ryland, what are you doing with Norma?”

I knew this was the last thing he wanted to talk about, but it needed to be said.

“I’m trying to help her.” He sighed. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“But why?” I asked. “The last time we spoke, you wanted her dead.”

He actually winced at my words, and it surprised me.

“That was before,” he stated. “Before the… before I almost killed you.”

He couldn’t look at me when he said it, and that same familiar urge to comfort him was there inside of me. I ignored it. Because he was right.

He had almost killed me. And if I hadn’t been there that night, I didn’t know if he would have killed Brayden or not.

“I appreciate what you’re doing, Ryland,” I said. “I really do. But I’m sure you can understand how it’s difficult to believe you can just go from wanting someone dead to helping her overnight.”

“I don’t have any ulterior motives,” he assured me. “I only want what’s best for you, Brighton.”

“But what about your family?” I asked. “What about your revenge?”

He reached towards me, clasping my face in his palms. I didn’t stop him this time. I needed to hear what he had to say.

“I didn’t think there was anything I could ever want more than my revenge,” he murmured. “But then I had you.”

I bit my lip as frustration and pain warred inside of me. I wasn’t too proud to admit I was weak. When it came to Ryland, I probably always would be. But I couldn’t stand seeing him so lost. So broken. “You know this doesn’t change anything between us,” I whispered.

“Maybe not today,” he said. “But…” “Not ever, Ryland,” I cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, his breath skating across my lips. “I’m not letting you go, baby girl. You need to accept that.”

I had to close my eyes and take a breath to gather my thoughts. It was the wrong choice because instead, I caught a whiff of his cologne. The scent that I used to associate with comfort. I just wanted to lean into him.

To feel his warmth and let him wrap his arms around me. To pretend like the past had never happened and none of the memories that hurt so much ever existed.

But I couldn’t.

“I’m not taking you back,” I insisted. “You need to accept that.”

My words set something off inside of him, and before I even realized what was happening, he pulled me into his lap and crushed my lips against his.

It had been so long since I’d felt them against me. Felt the fire inside of me that only Ryland could stoke. He was like gasoline, and the only thing left to do was combust. So I kissed him back. I gave into his frantic touches and savored them while I could.

His fingers drifted up my thighs, pushing the material of my dress up. And then his palm was rubbing me over my panties. Before my brain could catch up to what was happening, I rocked my hips against him.

It was wrong to lead him on. So, so, wrong.

But I missed this. I missed him. I wanted to allow myself to be weak, just for a few moments. That’s what I told myself while I surrendered.

My lips found his throat and blazed a hot trail up to his jaw while he squeezed the flesh of my ass in his hands. He pushed my panties aside and unzipped himself. I had a moment of panic when I realized what was happening. If I couldn’t resist him now, I didn’t know how I ever would in the future. I tried to pull away.

Ryland gripped me by the arms and growled into my neck. “Don’t deny me what’s mine, Brighton.”

I whimpered when he dragged his teeth along my throat, clamping down when he got to my shoulder. He knew I couldn’t resist that. He knew how wet I was for him. It was always for him.

He gripped my inner thighs and nudged my legs apart, positioning himself at my entrance. He was watching me, his blue eyes searching mine so carefully. He needed to see that I wanted this too. And right then, I couldn’t deny him.

I bit down on my lip and gave him a little nod. And then he was inside of me.

“Oh, fucking Christ...” he muttered. “Ah… God, I’ve missed this.

You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking wet.”

He gripped my hips with bruising fingers, rocking me back and forth along his arousal. He was harder than I’d ever felt him, his eyes heavy with lust and pleasure. He didn’t have to tell me this was where he felt he belonged. I could see it written all over his face.

“Give in to me,” he pleaded, gripping my face in his hands. “Say you’ll be mine again.”

I buried my face in the space between his shoulder and his neck, wrapping my arms around him tightly. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Not this time.

“Brighton.” His voice cracked as his touch grew rougher. Hard fingers dug into my hips, his teeth marking my body everywhere they skimmed. He was desperate to claim me. Tears clung to my lashes as he pressed me against his chest, his heart hammering against mine.

“Do you feel that?” he asked. “It doesn’t beat without you. I need you.”

I couldn’t stand to hear his sweet words. I couldn’t be pulled back into that vortex. So I pulled his face to mine and kissed him until we were both gasping for air. His fingers slipped between us, touching me in the place I so desperately needed. My head fell back, and my eyes squeezed shut as every nerve inside of me flared to life.

“I’m the only one who can give you this,” he murmured. “You know it’s true, Brighton. I’ll always be the only one…”

I exploded around him, crushing his shoulders with the grip of my fingers as I thrashed against him until I thought I might pass out. It had

been so long. Too damn long. My contractions set him off soon after, and his face twisted into a mixture of agony and bliss as he uttered a throaty groan against my neck.

One last deep thrust and he was convulsing inside of me. “I love you,” he clipped out. “So fucking much.”

I let my body weight melt against his chest, and he stroked my back, maintaining the connection between us. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to keep the tears from falling. How could something so bad feel so right?

How could I love this man so much? It was killing me, and I was only making it harder on both of us by allowing this to continue.

So with more strength than I felt, I pulled away and put myself together again. Ryland watched me carefully, and when I glanced out the window, I realized we were parked outside of my apartment already.

“Come home with me,” he begged.

I couldn’t look at him as my hand reached for the door handle. “I can’t, Ryland.”

“Brighton…” His voice filled with desperation. “I’ll never be able to sleep knowing you’re here. This is too much. I know you want to punish me, but…”

“I’m not punishing you,” I whispered. “I’m really not, Ryland. I forgive you for the accident, okay. And I’m grateful for what you’re doing for Norma. I… I honestly don’t even know what to say about it. But right now, it doesn’t change anything between us. You and Brayden…”

“I’m done with that,” he insisted. “What do I have to do to convince you?”

I glanced back into his tormented eyes and shook my head. I honestly didn’t know what he could do to convince me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I would always be wondering. And if something happened to Brayden while I was with him, I would never forgive myself for it.

“There’s nothing you can do,” I answered. “I just need you to go home, Ryland. Go home and… live your life. The life you had before me.”

“There was nothing before you,” he protested. “And there’s nothing without you. Don’t you get that?”

He was getting frustrated. But that was good. It meant he believed this was what I wanted.

“Goodnight, Ryland.” I opened the door and stepped outside.

*** I was on the sofa, stuffing my face full of Wasabi chips when Nicole walked in.

She set her bags down on the counter and gave me a weird look.

“You do know there’s a body guard outside the door, right?”

My head fell back against the sofa with a groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Honestly…” Nicole muttered, “don’t hate me for saying this, but it kind of makes me feel a little better. There are some creepy guys hanging out in the hallway, and I hate walking past them.”

“I know,” I admitted. “You’re right. But if I accept this, then it’s just opening the door for him to keep doing stuff like this.”

“Yeah, I know.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “He’ll probably tell Matt about this now, and he’s going to freak. I bet you anything they team up on this.”

She looked hopeful, and I agreed with her. Of course, Matt cared about her, but Nicole was still trying to push him away at every opportunity she got. I didn’t understand it. After their last spat, she hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks.

She was moping around, pretending it didn’t bother her. And no matter how much I urged her, she wouldn’t call him. I guess I really didn’t have room to talk though.

I had a lot of thinking to do where Ryland was concerned. But for now, I refused to rush into any decisions.

Chapter Twelve

Brighton Security didn’t even hesitate to let me into the building. I don’t know why that surprised me, but it did. They told me Ryland had a standing invitation for me and to go on up. I stepped off the elevator and walked down his hallway. The place was deserted, which was for the best. I didn’t need the other employees around for this.

It felt like a lifetime ago that I was here. The place seemed different in the dim evening lights. A sad, empty feeling filled the space that I’d spent so much time before. A glance at my desk, and I noticed there weren’t any personal mementos from whoever had taken over my position. It didn’t even look like it was being used.

Ryland’s door was cracked, and I peeked inside to find him sitting at his desk. He wasn’t working though. He was just leaning back with his head against the chair, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles, and he looked exhausted.

I hated that. I hoped he was taking care of himself. I hoped that I wasn’t the cause of those dark circles. I pushed the door open, and his eyes shot to mine. They flickered with surprise, and then he was up, walking towards me before he could stop himself.

“Brighton?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “But I wanted to come and talk to you in person.”

“Okay.”

He took my hand and pulled me over to the sofa. I didn’t resist because it was good to feel his skin against mine. If only for a moment.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

He looked like he was choosing his words carefully. As though he were afraid anything he might say or do could scare me off. I hated that too.

I didn’t want him to feel like that. Things were so complicated between us, and I honestly didn’t know where to begin.

I’d toyed with the idea of breaking the news to him today. But I still didn’t know if I should. What if he didn’t want anything to do with this?

The thought was unbearable.

“Look, Ryland…” I paused. “I want to talk about that guy you have following me everywhere.”

He closed his eyes and sank back against the couch. He didn’t even have the energy to fight, which was so unlike him.

“Just humor me, baby girl,” he pleaded. “What does it hurt? He’s there to protect you.”

He didn’t get it, and he never would. I had my father to thank for that.

“I just don’t like that he’s reporting everything I do back to you,” I said.

Ryland opened his eyes and stared at me, unmoving. “Why?” he asked. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, fighting the urge to look down.

I’d worn a baggy sweatshirt, so there was no way he could see.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean is there another man I need to know about?”

His expression was so tense that I couldn’t help it. I reached out and smoothed my hand along his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.

“Brighton.”

His voice was hoarse, and it sent my pulse skyrocketing. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But I leaned forward and kissed him.

Again.

I wanted to slap myself.

My lips had barely brushed against his when he tugged me onto his lap. My blood heated at the feeling of his hard body beneath me. God, I missed this. I’d been having withdrawals since the last time I’d seen him, and now it was becoming harder and harder to refuse.

I just needed to feel him, just one more time. That’s what I told myself as I reached down and tugged on his zipper. His hands were everywhere, inching up my skirt, stroking my thighs. I was deliriously high from the effect he had on me.

“God, I miss you so much.” He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled, rocking his erection against my palm. “It hurts, baby.”

He was painfully swollen, and I needed him inside of me. I tugged my panties aside and pushed myself down onto him. He moaned and jerked beneath me, his fingers tightening their grips on my thighs. It was painful and possessive, and I missed that too.

But when he tried to tug my shirt off, I had to distract him. So I leaned in and brushed my lips over his throat, alternating between bites and kisses. True to his nature, he loved it.

“Do you feel how hard you make me?” he squeezed my ass in his hands. “You’re mine, Brighton. You’ll never stop being mine. No matter what.”

I didn’t know who he was trying to convince, but I couldn’t acknowledge that statement. He was right. I would always belong to him, heart and soul. He was the only man I ever wanted to give my body to. But what I wanted and what I needed were two different things.

Right now, for this moment, I just needed to put it all out of my mind. So I rocked down against him, enjoying the feeling of being connected to him in this way. My beautifully damaged Ryland. My light and my darkness.

Tears fell down my cheeks, and he kissed them away. He told me how much he needed me. How he’d do anything to make it up to me. And I cried harder. I cried for the loss of him. For the loss of this. I didn’t know how I was going to survive without it.

And when I combusted around him, I cried because it was all over.

He followed soon after, but he didn’t pull out. He just wrapped his arms around me like a vice, crushing me against his chest. I knew he wanted to say something. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. He thought that would make a difference.

“Come home with me,” he whispered against me. “Come home to our bed and let me take care of you.”

Oh, God. I did not think this through. I pulled away from him, despite his resistance, and adjusted my clothes.

“I can’t, Ryland.”

“You can,” he insisted.

I had to tear my eyes away from him. I couldn’t bear to see the hope that lived there. I was an awful human being. I hated myself right then.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized weakly. “I have to go.”

“Brighton…” He tried to stand, but I bolted out the door before he could even get his pants zipped.

I made it to the elevator and pressed the close button repeatedly until the doors started to slide shut. Just before they did, I saw him round the corner, looking like he’d just lost me forever.

And I guess, in a way he had.

Chapter Thirteen Ryland Guess who’d come to pay yours truly a visit? No, not her. Not my little lotus flower.

I’m referring to my old friend darkness. No big surprise there, of course. But this time, it threatened to devour me. Coaxing me deeper into that empty abyss, welcoming with open arms. It’d be easy to fall into that trap again. But one image quashed any thoughts of self-pity I may have entertained.

Want to have a stab at what it could be?

Not necessary, I’d tell you anyway. It was Brighton, crumpled into a tiny pocket of metal. Blood coating her legs, a ghastly white face beneath the light of the moon while I clutched a revolver in my hand. A revolver I’d held to her brother’s head only moments before, oblivious to the fact that my girl… my life… was suffering from my actions.

If ever there had been a moment suspended in time, it was that one.

I hardly believed it was real. That my recklessness could have caused such a horrific and unexpected outcome. My body attempted in vain to reach her before my mind ever caught up. But I couldn’t. It was history, repeated.

Only this time, I’d orchestrated everything myself. The only light in my life was slipping away, and there was nobody else to blame. It wasn’t Brayden.

It wasn’t Frankie, or Alfredo, or my father. It was me.

A gun is a cowardly way to kill someone. Also a merciful one. In my mind, it hadn’t gone down like that at all. Brayden was meant to sufferas I had. But I’d gotten sloppy. Impatient. The longer the situation with Brighton continued, the more I doubted my intentions. It boiled down to revenge, or her. I just needed to get it over with, I decided. Let the chips fall where they may.

Funny thing about Karma. She’s a bitch.

I knew I deserved Brighton’s loathing. Her hatred. Her venomous words. I’d take all of it and more, so long as she was in my arms again. But still. Fresh ideas were scarce, and the old were well and truly exhausted.

For a man who thrived on planning out his every move with meticulous care, this was a dangerous thing.

But you already knew that, right?

Know what’s worse than cold turkey? Just a little bump. One tiny sip to take the edge off. The edges never went away, they only got sharper.

Every addict would tell you. Gray areas couldn’t exist in a sober environment.

This game of cat and mouse was doing my fucking head in. There was a time when Brighton trusted me to know what was right for her. I’d taken for granted what a beautiful thing her trust was. Now it had withered up and died like everything else.

Left to my own devices, I’d sit and stare at the empty walls of my office all day and drink myself to death. Hypocritical, no? Few men handled this type of emotional baggage well, and I- even less. Word was spreading round the building like a serpent, employees whispering behind my back at every turn. Neither here nor there, really. Let them talk. But it was the sympathetic glances that unraveled me.

While we’re delving into the past, I may as well tell you why I changed my name. My father ensured the media coverage was locked down and sealed up tight. His last ditch effort at protecting me, he’d finally done something properly.

Frankie’s crew hadn’t a clue I existed until I had the balls to walk up and face them myself. Probably, they inspired fear in most of the average joes to pay a little visit to their HQ, but I had nothing left to lose. So I made a deal. A deal with the devil himself.

Once they knew of me and we had an agreement in place, I settled on the next course of action. Changing my name didn’t buy me safety. I did that on my own. But it bought me something else. An out from the irreverent pity and half-hearted condolences.

I didn’t want pity. I wanted my fucking revenge.

That little nugget of hope kept me warm at night. Until Brighton.

Now I didn’t even have her. I’d given them both up, and what had it gotten me?

A whole lot of fucking misery, that’s what.

But if being miserable was the cost of weathering this storm, so be it. I’d made my bed of nails, and I was content to lie in it. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues, but for her, I’d try. Five years of lying in wait had

already done a number on my tolerance level. In a way, I blamed this for things imploding so badly. The anticipation really was too much for me. By the time I finally got hands on her, self-control was in short supply. More beast than man at that point, I’d allowed myself to indulge in every dark fantasy I ever had.

Five years was a long time to stew on all the sick and twisted shit you want to do. I reasoned that Brighton could fulfill whatever childlike dreams she entertained in her head by then. She could go to prom and date nice boys. Or bad ones, with her family history. I wasn’t exactly certain which way the pendulum would swing. She blindsided me completely when I took her innocence.

It all snowballed from there. If you haven’t already gathered this about me, I was completely hedonistic. Some might say selfish. Entitled.

Whatever label you want to give it, I always got my way. And until Brighton understood this, I just needed to learn how to bide my time. Find a new direction. One that didn’t involve killing Brayden. Because I would have her. She was already mine, and this stalemate couldn’t go on forever.

I’d see it through, till’ she came back to me.

She had to. Right?

My dicking around and day drinking was interrupted by Matt poking his head into my office. Ah, perfect. Another shitty item on my agenda. Mind you, I was doing this for Nicole.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked.

I nodded and gestured to the chair. He sat down. “Heard from Nicole, lately?”

He shook his head and stared at the floor. Guess I wasn’t the only sap in the room.

“That makes two of us then.”

I walked over to the cabinet in my office and rummaged through my whiskey collection. Jack, Jim, Johnnie… the boys were all there. Something stronger was in order for what came next. It wasn’t often in my life I admitted regret, but it’d been happening an awful frigging lot as of late.

Would Jackson see it as a betrayal? I imagined myself in his shoes.

Wondered what I’d want for Brighton if I wasn’t around. Nobody could ever love her the way I did. The thought alone made me want to crack some skulls. But if I wasn’t there, she’d need someone to take care of her. I was too blind to admit before that Nicole did too.

“I need to talk to you,” I began. “About Jackson.”

Matt’s face grew wary, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why. I hadn’t mentioned Jackson’s name since he died. The one time Matt tried to bring it up, I clocked him in the jaw. Needless to say, it’d been a dead subject ever since.

“What about him?” Matt asked.

I sat back down at my desk and scrubbed the heels of my hands across my face. This was even harder than I thought.

“About what he would have wanted for Nicole.”

Chapter Fourteen

Brighton “How are you?” Norma asked.

I stared out at the garden, taking it all in since I hadn’t the last time I was here. The rehab center really was beautiful. I still couldn’t believe that Ryland had done this for her.

“I’m good,” I lied.

“Doesn’t look like it.” She sat back in her chair and bobbed her foot up and down. “You’re getting a little hefty.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Okay, so I guess some things hadn’t changed. Norma could still be as blunt as ever.

“I’m not getting hefty, Norma. I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes widened, and she stared down at my belly in shock. “You are?”

“Yes.” I swallowed. “Four months now. But you can’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not Ryland.”

“Is it his?” she asked.

“Of course it is,” I scoffed.

She held her hands up and gave me a gentle smile. “I didn’t mean it that way, Brighton. I’m just surprised. I can’t believe you’re going to be a mama.”

“I know,” I agreed. “I’m scared.”

Her expression softened, and she reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“You’re going to do great,” she insisted. “So much better than I ever did.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. “I’m trying to do what’s right, but sometimes, I don’t even know what that is anymore.”

She nodded in understanding. If there was anyone who could relate to my predicament, it would be Norma. I never really cut her any slack for

that, but I knew how much she both loved and feared Frankie. And he didn’t want her, so she dealt with it in the only way she knew how.

“I wish I could tell you what to do, Brighton,” she said. “But I hardly know myself. I guess that’s part of life, is figuring it out as you go.”

“Yeah I guess so,” I agreed.

We fell silent for a moment, and I fidgeted with my hands in my lap.

There was something else I needed to ask, but I was half-afraid to.

“Have you heard anything from Brayden?”

She frowned, and right away, I knew I was justified in being worried.

“He’s called a couple times since you told him where I was. But he’s not real happy with me.”

“Of course he’s not,” I sneered. “Because the only thing he’ll see in the whole situation is that you’re taking Ryland’s side. He can’t see past anything else.”

“That sounds about right,” Norma agreed quietly.

She looked sad, and for the first time in a long time, I knew she needed my reassurance.

“You’re doing the right thing, Norma,” I said. “You’re taking care of yourself right now, and that’s all that matters. If Brayden can’t see that, then that’s his issue, not yours.”

“I know,” she agreed. “But I’m just… I’m worried about him, Brighton.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I was too.

“How’s he paying the rent now that you’re gone?”

“He’s not.” She glanced down at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. “He said he’s living in Chicago.”

“Chicago?” The word came out as a whisper. “With who?”

She didn’t reply. But I didn’t need her to. Brayden wouldn’t have told her who he was there with, but it was obvious to both of us. And it scared the hell out of me.

“You don’t think he’s getting tied back up with…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. How could he keep doing this to his family? For someone who said he cared, he didn’t seem to think about how any of his actions might affect us.

“I don’t know for sure,” Norma admitted. “But, he’s just like his father. Thinks he’s too good to get a real job. I’m afraid to even ask him

what he’s doing.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I said, sounding more confident than I actually felt. “You just focus on getting healthy, Norma. Okay?”

I gave her a watery smile, and she returned it. “Okay, Brighton. I love you.”

Chapter Fifteen Ryland When I was a child, my mother used to take me down to the pier every weekend and spend an entire day devoting herself to doing whatever I fancied. Sometimes it was sailing, often times the aquarium, there were even the occasional bouts of watching sea lions frolic about.

Whatever the occasion, we had a tradition, she and I. She’d always take me to Dreyer’s after and let me stuff my face with ice cream till’ I wanted to puke. I must have sampled every flavor and topping combination my tiny brain could conjure up about a dozen times over. But not Katherine.

She preferred vanilla. Plain old, nothing added, boring as hell vanilla. I couldn’t comprehend such a thing in my child-like noggin. There were so many other flavors. So many different possibilities. When I told her so, she’d laughed and stroked my cheek in a way that mothers do.

“Someday, sweet Jacob,” she said. “Someday, you’ll get it.”

Sitting in my office- twenty years later- I finally got it. I leaned forward to brush the pads of my fingers over the framed photo of Brighton’s pretty face. This dirty little habit of mine was starting to rival Norma’s.

It all made perfect sense to me now, what my mother said. Vanilla was pure and unsullied. Cleansing to the palate, you had to savor it to appreciate it. I could sip at Brighton’s vanilla sweetness for a thousand years and never be fully satisfied. I’d always replenish her, though. I swore it. I’d break her a thousand times if only so I could put her back together again.

Piles of work were strewn about my desk, forgotten and ignored.

Everything was out of order and inviting chaos into my life. Care factor?

Nil. The drive for what I did disappeared off a ridge along the Pacific Coast Highway on a night not too long ago.

Today was July 29th. My birthday. Did it surprise you that I was a lion? It shouldn’t.

Birthdays had ceased to exist for me six years ago. I doubted Brighton had any special mark of this day on her calendar. But if she had, I

wondered what she’d have gifted me. She was thoughtful and attentive. It wouldn’t be anything expected in circles such as mine. Seven fold ties or cufflinks made from the tusks of endangered species. No fine Cuban cigars or two-hundred-year-old bottles of scotch would spew forth from her hands.

Brighton would give something from the heart. Something that mattered.

I had an inkling of a few things that would’ve pleased me. Her waltzing into my office in white lingerie, getting down on her knees and sacrificing herself at my alter. Oh wait, she’d already done that. Still, there was nothing like a good old fashioned reenactment.

Would I have taken it all back if I could? That first day in the hotel room when I’d unknowingly altered my course so drastically. Probably not.

I wasn’t a saint, never would be. Those memories with Brighton were a lot like a penicillin shot. Painful, but necessary at times. They still made something in the vicinity of my chest stir every now and again.

From what you know of me, I’d gather you’d assume I was more than a little twisted. And you’d be right.

I wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, I was a normal twentyfour-year-old who brought women flowers and took them to dinner. I never even considered being anything other than respectful towards them.

That was how my mother raised me after all. To woo and charm and play by the rules.

Then life happened. And brick by brick, my sensibly constructed mortar kingdom disintegrated before my eyes. My reality check was that life didn’t play fair. Life took. And people took. And every day that I woke up empty fucking took… something. I was forged in the fire of blood and misery. The sadist inside of me created someone in his image. Or perhaps he only brought to life the monster always lurking there. I’d never really know for certain.

But Brighton loved the monster. She’d admitted as much. So what good would it do to pretend I was anything else? Why show up with wine and chocolate when you know your girl wants leather and filthy words?

And yet there I sat. Thirty years old in my sad office with my sad paperwork. Alone.

I wanted her to text me. To say something. I’d been waiting all day.

It was a foolish notion. She didn’t even know it was my birthday. I knew

when hers was. I’d buy her the world, but somehow I doubted it’d make a lick of difference.

For the last six years, I’d been alone on this day. It was never an issue. Indeed, I preferred it that way. But tonight, I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with her.

And I was sick of waiting.

Chapter Sixteen

Brighton Something warm skimmed over my neck, and I shivered as I nuzzled closer. I knew that scent anywhere. Whiskey and Ryland.

I smiled, because I was dreaming, and in my dreams, I could still have him.

“Baby girl,” he murmured. “Just let me hold you.”

I felt his warmth against my back, and I sighed against him. His heartbeat was as strong as I remembered, soothing me in a way that only he could. It felt so real. His hands were on my body. Stroking my hip, my ribs, my arms. I was falling deeper, and I knew I was going to lose him at any moment.

“Ryland,” I whispered.

“Yes, baby,” he replied. “I’m right here.”

His hands drifted over my belly, and I felt him pause. This was my dream so it could be anything I wanted. I imagined him telling me how happy he was. That we never had to be apart again, and he would take care of us. I would let him this time. Because it was just a dream. *** I woke to sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds, and I whined. I really needed to get those fixed. Stretching out my sore muscles, a smile crept across my face. My dream had been so real last night, so very…

The scent of amber and cinnamon floated up from my pillow, and my breath hitched. I didn’t imagine that. That was real.

I shot up, clutching the blankets around my chest. Ryland was sitting on the end of the bed. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the picture of the sonogram they’d taken in the hospital. The one that I kept in my dresser drawer.

Oh, God.

My heart squeezed in my chest. He knew.

I waited for what felt like forever. He knew I was awake, but he wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t say anything. And I didn’t know why.

He was disappointed. Horrified. That could be the only explanation.

Finally, he stood up, his blue eyes meeting mine. I was afraid to look too deeply for fear of what I’d see there.

“How did you get in here?” I whispered.

“Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could get in here,” he roared. “And you’re fucking pregnant! How could you not tell me this?”

That was anger in his voice. Definite anger. And anger equated to disappointment. Right? My eyes burned, but I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

“It’s none of your business,” I bit out.

“None of my business?” he growled. “I’d have to disagree, Brighton. I’d say this is very much my fucking business.”

“I knew you’d react this way!” I yelled. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

He laughed darkly, and the cold Ryland was back, just like that. No more apologies, no more sweetness.

“No, you didn’t tell me because you wanted to punish me. You wanted to take this away from me. Well, I’ve got news for you, Brighton.

That’s not going to fucking happen.”

“What are you saying?” My lip wobbled.

“Get your things together.” He walked towards the door. “You’re moving out of this shit hole. Today.”

Chapter Seventeen Ryland Have you ever had one of those moments where you felt as though time itself had suspended? Where you had to drag your sorry ass out of bed every morning with a mental pep talk you knew was complete drivel? Even the simplest gestures robbed you of precious energy. Dignity notwithstanding, I took comfort in the robotic voice inside my head instructing me what to do. How to perform the most basic of human functions.

Time to brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Should probably feed yourself something between shots. Gym? Meh… How about jacking off in the shower instead? Nada. Not even energy for that. Ladies, we had a crisis on our hands.

The last thirty something days of my life had been a perpetual merry-go-round of this bullshit. People moved and spoke around me. Even to me, probably. Couldn’t say for certain. The silence in my ears was deafening. The colors in my world had evaporated into a haze of gray.

Nothing made a lick of sense anymore.

My company. My life. My purpose.

For me, success wasn’t measured by the sum in my bank accounts.

It was a welcome side effect, sure. But I had the drive and ambition to succeed in any chosen field. It wasn’t cocky, just fact. When you want gravely enough, you make it happen.

I had wanted more than anyone.

Now that my ruthless plotting had bled away, only scabs remained.

I’d never given it much thought, what success meant to me. Many people believed my father to be successful. I still recall how cruelly I’d laughed at the mockery of the word after tragedy befell him. A tragedy of his own making, nonetheless.

If you’d asked me six months ago, I would have stood by that arrogant proclamation. I was too attached to the notion to let it go. My father had not been successful in his business. That was sorely obvious. But

as I watched the clouds swirl and disintegrate outside of my high-rise window, unsettling clarity descended upon me.

He had everything he ever wanted. Two ostentatiously beautiful houses, boats, cars, family holidays in Europe. Plenty of materialistic things. But it was family. The thought was so simplistic, and yet it struck me down with the weight of its importance. My father had everything that couldn’t be measured with gold. The most exceptional wife and mother a man could hope for. The perfect children he’d always boasted of. When I pictured his face- before his financial troubles- I remembered how blissfully fucking happy he was. A fool’s paradise, as they say.

Only now did I grasp that the successes I’d thought mattered amounted to jack shit.

I swiveled around in my chair and edged closer to the window, pressing my palm against the glass. The sky was overcast and foggy, pouring down big fat tears of misery on the city of San Francisco. I fixated my attention on the tiny people milling about on the streets below, wondering if any of them could relate to how I felt at this moment.

Probably not.

The Jane and John Doe’s down there lived in another existence. By all outward appearances, they seemed content, but were they really?

Husbands worked their fingers to the bone and whisked their mistresses off to hotels for afternoon trysts. Trophy wives racked up credit card bills in the hunt for the next best item that would fill their vacuous lives. Children splashed in puddles with their Wellies while their nannies scolded them and smiled. I couldn’t actually see these things of course, but it was how I imagined it in my head. Let me run with it, will you?

This was not the way I was raised. My parents were legitimately and freakishly happy. But there were times when I’d caught a glimpse of my father’s worried face as he hunched over his desk with a glass of bourbon late at night. There were signs. We’d all just chosen not to see them. He'd taken the weight of the world on his shoulders, as that’s what fathers do, right? And we were all happy to let it continue on without a hiccup.

Perhaps if I’d done something, said something. Things could have been different. It was a quandary I’d faced many times in my head. I’d picked it apart and dissected the remnants so many times nothing but bone dust remained.

It was easier to hate my father for what he’d done than to acknowledge I’d failed him. To admit I should’ve stepped up to the plate and showed him what I was capable of back then. It’s funny how these little blips in life can change everything. How now, six years later, I questioned everything I thought I knew about my parents. The utterly terrifying news of being a father would do that to a man.

My child was inside her.

A tangible and very real slap in the face.

Why, you may ask? Did you take me for one of those men who wouldn’t own up to his responsibilities? Because I may have been many things, but I wasn’t a goddamn scoundrel. If you must tar me with any particular brush, don’t let it be that one.

Brighton did.

She’d given me no choice in the matter. Deemed me unfit the moment she found out, from the gist of it. Slapped me with the sperm donor label and sentenced me to a cardboard box, only to rot in a storage unit somewhere for the next eighteen years.

I couldn’t see past my anger this time. Rational thought was of little consequence when it hissed and popped inside of me, sizzling about like grease inside a frying pan. It was only a matter of time before I caught fire.

Like a bad movie reel, the words played on in my mind. She hid this from me. She could’ve plunged a stake through my heart, and it would’ve hurt less. As it were, it felt like she’d unloaded an entire clip of hollow points inside my gut.

I’d be the first to confess I had questionable morals. My track record wasn’t the best, probably. I wasn’t proud of all the things I’d done. I hated what I’d done to her. Knowing now she was pregnant when it happened? It gutted me. GUTTED ME. These words weren’t for show. I hadn’t been this fucked up since fate punched a ticket to a front row seat at my family’s death. I didn’t get the feels often. Maintaining a balance of carefully numb and indifferent was a coping mechanism. My cavalier fucking attitude worked for me. Shutting the door on grief, I let it fester deep inside of me like cancer.

That cancer almost destroyed Brighton instead of me. Now I’d learned it was also my unborn child too. How do you think I felt?

Like a giant fucking worthless prick that’s how.

But she should’ve known how I’d feel about this. How much it’d mean to me, or how much I’d want to be a part of it. She snatched it away from me without so much as a second thought.

Did she think I’d be a shitty father too?

The better question was, could I even blame her if she did? I didn’t know the answer to that. But what I did know was I had a right to prove myself if she’d given me the chance. But she didn’t.

And that said everything I needed to know.

Chapter Eighteen

Brighton Ryland had really gone to the mattresses on this one.

Not only had he brought Matt, who was now in the corner arguing with Nicole about our ‘shitty apartment,’ but he’d called my landlord too.

“Sorry.” The guy shrugged. “But there’s been a violation of the lease.”

Ryland was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, watching the entire interaction. This had him stamped all over it, and I knew my landlord was full of shit. Money talks, and he didn’t blink twice when Ryland paid him off.

“What kind of violation?” I argued. “I want to see proof.”

“You can take that up with my lawyers.”

“Lawyers?” I frowned. This guy couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t afford a fresh coat of paint, let alone lawyers.

“That’s what I said.” He slapped the papers down on the counter and headed towards the door. “You have three days to vacate the premises.”

“That’s illegal!” I shouted.

I was pretty sure, anyway. But the landlord didn’t seem to care. He just stomped out, humming a happy little tune as he went. I expected to see a victorious smile on Ryland’s face, but there was no such thing. His eyes were still ice cold, his expression flat.

“I’ve been more than patient, Brighton,” he said. “I let you have the upper hand because I was sorry for what happened.”

I shot him a scathing look, but it didn’t even faze him. “And I’m still sorry about that. But the games stop, right here, right now. You’re having my baby, and I’m done playing. You and Nicole will move back into your apartment. Today. I will not have the mother of my child living in a place like this, and that is not up for debate. Do you understand?”

“You’ve given me no choice.” I glared.

He didn’t even look remotely sorry about it as he continued. “Ted will be at your service, should you need to go anywhere. And I will provide everything you need, financially.”

“And what else?” I snapped. “Is there some sort of agreement you’d like me to sign in blood while you’re at it? My life and body belong to you for the next eighteen years?”

“No,” he responded flatly. “No contracts, no agreements, no us.

You’ve made it abundantly clear that isn’t what you want. So this is just about the baby now.”

“Oh.” I swallowed, and it felt like there was glass in my throat.

He didn’t want to be with me anymore. Why the hell did that hurt so much? It was what I wanted, but hearing him say it cut me to the bone.

“And what happens when the baby is born?” I rasped. “You aren’t taking it away from me.”

“You mean like you took it away from me?” he shot back.

God, he was really upset about this. I honestly didn’t understand why. The first time I’d asked him if he was trying to get me pregnant, he’d sounded so horrified by the idea. And he was the one who insisted on getting birth control right away. It was only logical to believe he’d still feel the same. But I guess I was wrong. And I worried that he wouldn’t ever forgive me for it.

“You know I would never do that to you, Brighton,” Ryland said, his tone softening a fraction. “But I will have equal rights.”

“Of course,” I whispered.

“And when the baby is born, I’d like you to consider staying home. I think it would be best. And, of course, I’d take care of everything for you.”

“Right.” I nodded, my eyes burning with unshed tears. He sounded so detached. Like this was some kind of business arrangement he was making as if I had suddenly ceased to exist. It fucking hurt.

“Ted’s waiting downstairs to drive you to the apartment,” he informed me.

“I haven’t even packed yet,” I said.

“Let the movers do it,” he insisted. “I don’t want you lifting anything heavy.”

I would have protested, but I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. I barely had the energy to muster up a fake smile for him. “Okay, Ryland.”

Chapter Nineteen Ryland The days bled together in a repetitive stream of work.

How this hadn’t bothered me before, I haven’t a clue. Now it all seemed tedious. Day in, day out, the dull fucking thud of my fingers on a keyboard. Tapping out texts and emails and squaring away things of a monotonous nature.

Hello hamster, meet treadmill.

Lately, I’d taken up reading to fill the mindless drat. Baby books, if you could believe that. In one of my drunken stupors, I’d apparently purchased a whole shit load of them on Amazon, with express delivery. I wanted to learn everything there was on the subject if only to prove to myself I could do this.

A knock at my door sounded, and I glanced up to catch Matt lingering there. Since our talk the week before, he’d been visiting me often.

Frankly, I didn’t know what to make of it. I hadn’t a need for a friend since I was in college, but it appeared that was his end goal with these little visits.

He was a good friend to Jackson. The two of them were thick as thieves from the time they began building Lego kingdoms in middle school.

Truth be told, I liked Matt. Begrudgingly, perhaps. I wasn’t in the habit of liking anyone for longer than what they could do for me.

Brash?

A little, maybe, but necessarily so. A man in my position was more accustomed to making enemies. You see, all the players in my world had their own selfish agendas. Quick to ask for a favor and even quicker to disappear when you needed it to be reciprocal. The moment the flash of the cameras went off, they were out the door and onto the next big fish.

The friends I did have made themselves scarce after my family died.

They didn’t know how to handle it either. I hadn’t seen the need to replenish such trivial relationships. Now I bartered in tit for tat. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. The situation with Matt was a little out of my

emotional league if I was being honest. I was trying to do something out of the good of my heart. Heh. I’d seen the error of my ways. Nicole’s fragility could no longer be denied, and I took responsibility for that. I’d played a role in keeping her in such a dark, emotionless pit. What could I say, hell was a lonely place, and I didn’t want to be alone.

But now, I was trying to make good. Absolution and all of that. Was there any amount of holy water that could make me clean again?

“Hey man.” Matt took a seat without invitation. “How’s it going?”

I tossed the baby book aside and opted for the bottle of whiskey on my desk instead.

“Who knew the many things that could go wrong during childbirth?”

“Brighton’s tough as nails,” Matt replied. “She’s going to be just fine, Ryland.”

Easy for him to say. That wasn’t how I saw her. All I saw were potential disasters at every turn. Things that would take her away from me.

Not that she was mine anymore.

I took a shot and wiggled the bottle in Matt’s direction in offering.

He nodded, and I poured us both a tumbler before leaning back in my chair.

“What do you want?”

Blunt and to the point, my words were far past the point of shocking Matt anymore. He’d seen my descent. He knew this was all that remained.

He expected nothing more. In a way, it made me feel at ease around him.

“I need some advice about Nicole,” he mumbled.

“And you’re asking me?” I arched a brow at him. “Have you seen the train wreck I’ve made of my life recently?”

“Okay.” Matt shrugged. “So maybe it’s not really advice I’m after.

More like a favor.”

One of my least favorite words. I had the distinct impression I wasn’t going to like it in this case either. “What kind of favor?”

“You need to tell her yourself, Ryland. She’s never going to buy it if you don’t.”

“And how do you propose I do that when she isn’t speaking to me?”

“Since when have you ever shied away from persistence?” Matt cajoled.

I shrugged. He did have a point there. Also, I’d been planning to chat with Nicole, anyway. But I didn’t want Matt to think I was doing it for him.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He grinned, and I pointed at the door.

“Now get out of my office.”

Chapter Twenty

Brighton “It’s so strange being back here.” Nicole furrowed her brow as she looked around the apartment.

“I know,” I agreed.

“Maybe we could redecorate,” she said thoughtfully. “Get ready for the baby.”

“Sure.” I slumped further into the couch.

I didn’t know how we were going to do that since Ryland had moved all of my stuff down here. He’d set up my sewing room in the spare bedroom, erasing all parts of me from his own apartment. I couldn’t even go in there. I didn’t know how I was supposed to set up a nursery.

“Brighton?” Nicole placed her hand on my arm. “Are you okay? I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m fine.” I smiled weakly.

“You’re not fine,” she protested. “Please don’t be sad. What can I do to cheer you up?”

“You could call Matt and make up with him,” I teased.

Her face soured, and she shook her head.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Will you look at us?” she snorted. “A couple of sad sacks moping around because of the bastard men in our lives. We need to get a grip.”

“Fair point.” I laughed.

“We should do something fun today. Let’s go shopping for the baby.

This is supposed to be a happy time for you.”

“I don’t have any money,” I argued.

“That isn’t true,” she smirked. “You have Ryland’s card. And I do remember him telling you to use it. C’mon, you could shop for years and still not even put a dent in his bank balance. This is for the baby. We need to get prepared. Do you even know how much stuff babies need?”

I shrugged because I knew she was right. I still hadn’t bought anything yet. And it did sound kind of fun.

“Alright,” I relented. “But let’s not go too crazy.”

Nicole was right. Babies needed a lot of stuff.

It was hard to tell what was actually necessary, and what wasn’t. But Nicole had no problem throwing whatever she thought might be slightly useful into our shopping cart.

“Have you thought of a theme yet?” she asked, staring at some different wallpaper trims in bright colors.

“No.” I shook my head. “I wanted to wait and see what I’m having first.”

She pouted. “That isn’t until next week, maybe. If they can tell.”

Next week. God, that was surreal. I couldn’t believe how fast it had gone. I wondered if Ryland would want to know. We hadn’t even discussed it. We hadn’t discussed much of anything since I’d moved back two weeks ago.

Every day, he sent me exactly one text to check in with me and see how I was doing. He told me if I needed anything at all, I was to contact him right away. But I hadn’t thought of anything that sounded like a good enough reason to bother him.

It hurt because as much as I loved Nicole, I wanted Ryland to be the one to do these things with me. It was silly and unrealistic, but suddenly my shopping trip didn’t seem all that fun anymore.

“Maybe we could just do something yellow,” Nicole continued.

“I’m really tired,” I blurted. “I think I’m all shopped out for one day.”

“Really?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Okay, I’m sorry Brighton. You’re right, we still have plenty of time. Let’s go home, and you can take a nap.” *** I spent the entire weekend sewing while Nicole moped around the apartment and scrubbed every surface she could find. She was full of

anxious energy again, and I didn’t know what had been going on with her.

I thought maybe she was nervous about looking for a new job, but it could also be because she and Matt still weren’t speaking. It was a subject I wanted to revisit, and tonight, I had every intention of doing just that.

I’d gone to her favorite bakery and bought her a dozen cupcakes, fully intending to do nothing but binge on sugar and make her pour her heart out. But when she breezed into the apartment looking relaxed and happy, I was a little surprised. She set to work, laying out a truck load of takeout food on the counter.

“I ordered just about everything on the menu,” she stated. “So help yourself to whatever you want.”

She wasn’t making eye contact with me, and I knew something was up.

“Nicole?”

“Yeah?” she asked absently, bending down to look through the cupboard as though she had lost something.

I walked around the counter and shut the cupboard, forcing her to look up at me as I crossed my arms.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” she blinked.

Now that I was closer, I could see that her eyes were swollen and puffy, but she had a smile on her face that was the polar opposite.

“Nicole… I can see you’ve been crying,” I said carefully. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Sheesh, I can’t get anything past you,” she muttered as she stood up and leaned against the counter.

“Blame it on the men in my life,” I retorted.

“I planned to tell you all of this after dinner,” she said. “But I met Ryland for coffee today.”

“You did?”

That familiar space in my chest hollowed a little more at the thought of him. I’d been doing so good at keeping him off my mind, but the simple mention of his name was enough to almost topple my resolve again.

“He’s been messaging me for a while about it,” she said. “And I decided to go see what he wanted. Despite everything that’s happened, he’s still like a brother to me…”

“You don’t have to justify why you went,” I assured her. “I know you care about him, Nicole. I want you two to be friends, nothing would make me happier.”

“Well honestly, I was pretty much expecting the entire conversation to be about you,” she said. “I thought he was going to try to get me to talk to you or something. But it wasn’t about that at all.”

“What was it about?” I asked curiously.

“It was about Jackson.” She leaned against the counter and stared off into the distance for a moment. “Ryland told me that it was time for me to live my life. To be happy.”

Warmth filled my heart when I realized what she was saying.

Ryland had finally absolved her of her guilt over moving on.

“That’s really amazing, Nicole.” I smiled for her. “You deserve it.”

“That isn’t all.” She rifled through her purse and pulled out a check.

“He gave me this too.”

I stared at the check addressed to Nicole with more zeros than I could count, trying to understand what it meant.

“He sold the house on Belvedere Island,” she explained. “And he said that Jackson would have wanted me to have the money.”

“He sold it?” I repeated, tears brimming my eyes. “But… that was where he grew up. It was the only thing he had left…”

“That’s what I said.” Nicole shrugged. “But Ryland said it wasn’t home anymore. That without his family, it doesn’t feel right, and it never will.”

Shock resonated through my entire body at his decision. I could only imagine how difficult that must have been for him, and I wondered how he was handling it.

“Did he…” I cleared my throat and tried to wash away my emotion.

“Did he look okay?”

“He looked… different,” she answered.

“Different, how?”

“I don’t know, he seemed kind of… defeated.”

“Oh.” “He asked me to give you something too.” She pulled another envelope from her purse.

I took it between my shaky hands and tore off the seal, hoping it was a letter. Some kind of communication from him other than a text. I hoped he

was getting better and that his anger really was gone. But did that mean he was moving on from me too?

I was disappointed when I shook out the contents and found another check. It was for twenty million dollars, and it was addressed to Sophia’s Shoes. My legs wobbled a bit, and I had to grip the counter to keep from falling over as I read through the paperwork.

It was a donation to the charity which stipulated that 50% of the monies would be deposited into my own personal account in order for me to run the foundation full time.

Nicole peeked over my shoulder and gasped as she saw the amount.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That’s…”

“Crazy?” I finished for her, setting the check down on the counter.

“I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s for the foundation. He obviously wants you to run it. And he probably wants you to feel like you have a steady income, Brighton. You’re having a baby.”

“Do you think that’s why?” I blinked up at her. “He’s paying me off?”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Of course not. Where would you get that idea?”

I didn’t get to answer because there was a knock at the door. Nicole almost looked embarrassed as she moved to open it.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Matt.”

I smiled at the blush on her cheeks. “Of course not.”

“Hey, Brighton.” He gave me a hug as he sauntered inside. “Nice to see you again. I can see the baby’s getting bigger.”

“It is.” I smiled and patted my bump.

“Well, I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m starving.”

“C’mon, grab a plate,” Nicole urged. “You’re eating for two now.” *** We were sitting on the sofa watching TV, and I couldn’t help but notice that Matt and Nicole were getting closer and closer as the evening went on.

He’d wrapped his arm around her twenty minutes ago, and now they were even holding hands. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen, but

at the same time, it was making the emptiness in my chest ache.

I was about to excuse myself to bed when the doorbell rang again, and I shot Nicole a questioning glance. “Are you expecting anyone else tonight?”

“No.” She frowned.

I padded towards the door and looked through the keyhole, glimpsing a woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform.

I opened the door a crack and returned her cheerful smile. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Miss Valentine?” she asked.

“Uh… yeah?”

“My name is Emma Charles. I’m here to be your nurse.” She said it in a way that I’m sure sounded perfectly reasonable, but I just stared at her in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you mind if I come in?” she gestured towards the apartment.

“Mr. Bennett sent me.”

“Okay, sure. Sorry.”

She came in with a medical bag and took a seat as she started to explain. Matt and Nicole joined me in the kitchen and listened in.

“Mr. Bennett has hired me to be your round the clock nurse and baby consultant. I’m here to help you with whatever you need, whether it’s assisting with meal preparation, cleaning, or any medical emergencies that should arise.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I protested.

“I’m really not.” She frowned. “I’m highly qualified for this job, Miss Valentine. If you’d like me to provide credentials…”

“I’m sure that you are,” I said apologetically. “But the thing is, I don’t need a nurse or a consultant.”

“But I’ve already been paid,” she argued. “A lot of money. Mr. Bennett wants to ensure you and his baby have the very best care. I’m here to help you.”

She said it as though I didn’t understand what her role was, but it was perfectly clear. Ryland had hired someone to wait on me hand and foot.

Again, another gesture that I’m sure seemed perfectly logical to him.

I decided to try for another tactic, one that wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

“Look, I really appreciate your offer of services. But as you can see, the apartment is already quite full, and there’s really not room…”

“I can sleep anywhere,” she volunteered. “A sofa will do. And once Mr. Bennett has finished up the arrangements for the new apartment, I’ll have my own room…”

New apartment? I glanced at Nicole, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” she said. “You could use a little help, Brighton. You’ve been really busy with the charity stuff lately, and you look tired all the time.”

“Really, Nicole?” I squeaked.

Matt chuckled and pulled her to his side. “If you aren’t happy with the arrangement, Brighton, maybe you should take it up with Ryland?”

“Oh he’d like that, wouldn’t he?” I grumbled.

The poor nurse looked like she had no idea what she’d gotten herself into.

“Why don’t you relax and dish yourself up a plate of food,” I told her. “I’m going to speak to Mr. Bennett myself.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Brighton I fully expected to hold onto my anger and give Ryland a piece of my mind when I stormed into his apartment. But as I walked through each room, I came up empty.

I padded back through the living room, wondering if he could still possibly be at work. It was late though, and I doubted I’d be able to get into the building. Then another thought occurred to me. One that had been bouncing around in my head for a while.

I wondered if he’d found someone else since he’d given up on me.

If he was out with her at that very moment. My heart stuttered, and my stomach churned.

No, he wouldn’t do that. Ryland always told me he’d waited five years for me. There was no way he could just move on so quickly. But as fast as he’d gone cold, I really didn’t know where his feelings were at. Just when I thought about giving up and walking out the door, something out on the balcony caught my eye.

I turned around and examined his profile in the moonlight as he stared out at the skyline. All of my irritation deflated when I saw him sitting there in the cold, looking more lost and alone than I’d ever seen him. I drew closer to him, unable to keep my head and heart from wanting the same thing. I pushed open the glass door, but he didn’t hear me. His skin looked ice cold, and his eyes were empty.

“Ryland?”

He turned at the sound of my voice, and something flared to life in his eyes as his gaze travelled over my face. He took a step closer on instinct, but then stopped short.

“Brighton? Are you okay?”

His eyes travelled down to my belly as I nodded, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets in an effort to control himself. I could tell he wanted

to touch me, and honestly, I wanted him to touch me too. We were so close, but so far away.

“The nurse…” I stammered.

“Please.” He took another step. “Just give me this one concession.

That’s all I’m asking.”

I shook my head. “It isn’t what I want.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a breath. He was heartbroken, but he didn’t understand. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t find the words. My pride and my heart were at war, and things with Ryland were never like this before. He usually took whatever it was he wanted, without question. And that included me.

But now there were so many different emotions between us.

Emotions I didn’t even know how to deal with. This man before me was not the same man who’d blackmailed me ten months ago. He was not the same man who’d tried to kill my brother, or who had funded Norma’s addictions.

This man was a broken, empty shell… and it was breaking me to see him this way. But he still wouldn’t let go of his anger over me hiding this from him. He seemed to be in the habit of taking his pain and twisting it into anger. And I didn’t know how to get through to him.

“Nicole said you’ve been tired,” he remarked. “I’m just trying to help, Brighton. In the only way that I can.”

It wasn’t the only way he could help, but again I was too proud to admit that.

“The nurse said something about a new apartment?” I asked. “What was she talking about?”

“That apartment isn’t going to work,” he said. “I think we both know that. I have a couple other places I’m looking into. I was going to text you and ask if you’d come look at them with me tomorrow.”

The way he said it was so business-like again, I hated it. But I nodded anyway.

“Please just give Emma a chance,” he continued. “Let her take some of your stress away, Brighton. It isn’t good for the baby.”

I frowned because I knew he was right. And when he put it that way, it sounded selfish of me not to take him up on it. Most women would probably kill to have what he was offering while they were pregnant.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll give her a chance.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell between us, and it was awkward. Things had never been this way before. I didn’t know what to say or how to act anymore. So I turned to go.

“I’ve been doing some reading,” Ryland said. “I think you’re supposed to start feeling some movement soon.”

I nodded because I’d read the same thing in my baby book.

“Have you?” he asked. He looked worried like he was missing out on something.

“Not yet.” I smiled. “But I’ll tell you when I do, I promise.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “And I made you an appointment for next week to have an ultrasound, so we can go together. I think you’re due for one.”

I bit my lip and nodded. No way was I going to tell him that I already had an appointment in my old neighborhood. Besides, I wanted him to be there with me.

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away. “Anyway, it’s late. So I guess you should probably get some rest.”

“Yeah.”

I walked towards the door solemnly.

“I’ll have Ted pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

“Okay, Ryland.”

“Goodnight, Brighton.”

“Goodnight.” *** “So?” Ryland arched a brow at me expectantly as my eyes wandered over the apartment once more.

It was a luxury loft that took up the entire top floor of an apartment building. Complete with a bay view and all the comforts that anyone could ever want. And the real kicker? It had been divided into two living spaces.

There was very little in the way of privacy, with only a sliding partition that extended between the lounge areas. Ryland had calmly explained that he would have one side, and I’d have the other.

“You want to raise our baby here?” I clarified. “In this sterile apartment?”

He looked miffed, but I didn’t care. Technically there was nothing wrong with the apartment, but the realization that he was committing to us being separated for the next eighteen years upset me. I knew it was ridiculous. This was what I told him I wanted. And now I was completely contradicting that. I wanted to blame it on the hormones, but I couldn’t even do that.

“What’s wrong with this one, Brighton?”

There was an edge of frustration to his voice, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be here another moment.

“You can’t possibly think this would work,” I fumed. “What’s going to happen when you start dating again Ryland? You’re just going to bring your girlfriend back to the apartment while I’m sitting in the next room with your baby.”

He tore his eyes away from me and stared out the window. “It would never be like that.”

“You say that now,” I continued. “But you can’t possibly know that.

You’re not going to be single forever.”

I didn’t know why I was pushing this. I was making myself crazy, but I wanted to hear his response. To see if the final nail had already been wedged into our coffin. If we were really over.

Ryland didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“I don’t want anything,” I said weakly. “I just want to go home. I’m tired.”

It was a lie, but I knew Ryland wouldn’t argue with me on this point.

Unfair? Yes. But I needed to get out of this apartment and everything it represented.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll keep looking. Ted will take you home.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brighton Ryland and I sat in uncomfortable silence in the doctor’s waiting room. The place looked expensive, and I had no doubt he’d probably paid a fortune for me to come here. The other mothers-to-be were dressed in designer clothes and heels and were no doubt highly prominent figures of society.

On the drive over, Ryland informed me that Dr. Maria was the best of the best. Reportedly, an OB/GYN to the stars- and now, little old me too.

He’d really been going out of his way to help me in whatever way he could, and I did appreciate that, regardless of how strained things were between us. He’d been reading a lot, and over the last week, he’d started to send me text messages of little things that surprised him or freaked him out.

Like facts he’d picked up in the books on food cravings. It was kind of adorable that he was so interested, and it was a bittersweet feeling for me.

He was going to make a great father.

“Brighton Valentine?” the nurse popped her head through the door.

“That’s me.” I stood up, and Ryland followed me down the hall.

She paused to weigh me, and my face flamed in embarrassment as Ryland stood there expectantly.

“Turn around,” I ordered.

“Why?” he frowned. “I need to know these things.”

“No, you don’t,” I snapped. “This isn’t your concern.”

“I want to make sure you’re eating enough, Brighton.”

The nurse gave us an amused grin as she pushed the scales back and forth. “I’ll write it down and let you two decide while you wait.”

She ushered us into an empty room and asked the usual questions.

When I told her I was still having occasional bouts of morning sickness, Ryland looked worried. I could already see him making a mental note to google it later, and I hoped the nurse would put him at ease.

“While that isn’t great news, that does sometimes happen,” she assured me. “But let us know if it gets any worse, or to the point that it feels unbearable. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

I shifted in my chair, and I could practically feel the tension rolling off of Ryland. “Not really,” I lied.

“That can sometimes cause it too,” she said. “You may be a little more sensitive when pregnant, so stress can induce it.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Alright, Brighton.” She smiled as she stood. “I’m going to have you hop up on the table and lift your shirt up.”

I climbed up on the table, feeling Ryland’s eyes on me as I tugged my shirt up just beneath my breasts. This was the first time he’d seen me like this, and I was a little nervous. I glanced over to find him staring at my belly, and I wanted so badly to know what he was thinking.

“I’m just going to get the technician,” the nurse said. “She’ll be right in.”

“Thank you.”

She left, and Ryland and I looked at each other. He gave me a smile that I was sure he meant to be reassuring, but I could tell he was nervous too.

“We might find out the sex today,” I volunteered.

This earned me a real smile from him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The door opened, and the technician stepped inside. “Hello, Brighton. How are we doing today?”

“Good,” I answered.

She sat down on her chair and started messing with the equipment while Ryland watched eagerly. I wanted to ask him if he had a preference between a boy or girl, but that seemed silly. I’d be happy with either.

“This is going to be a little cold.” She squeezed the gel onto my tummy and started to move the wand.

The room was quiet for a few moments while she checked some things on the screen, clicking away while she worked. I wasn’t scared, but I could tell Ryland was getting anxious by the way he leaned forward. He was waiting to hear the heartbeat, and it took a while to get to that part from what I understood.

Before I could stop myself, I reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes found mine, and he seemed to relax a little as he

threaded his fingers through mine. It was such a small, simple gesture, but it meant the world to me.

“Baby’s growing very nicely,” the technician said. She fiddled with some more knobs and buttons, and then the sound came through the speakers.

I looked at Ryland through bleary eyes as I heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. He kept running his free hand through his hair, messing it up while he stared at the screen with a dazed expression on his face. It was a mixture of terror and awe, and I doubted he even realized how tight he was gripping my hand.

“Sounds nice and healthy too,” the technician remarked. “Are we wanting to know the sex today?”

I looked at Ryland, and he nodded. “Yes, please.”

His voice was hoarse, which surprised me.

“Everything looks great.” The technician finished up and wiped the gel from my tummy. “So I’ll show these to Dr. Maria, and she’ll be in soon to let you know. Just lay back and relax, in case she needs to do an exam.”

I smiled and nodded, and she walked from the room. I didn’t even get a chance to talk it over with Ryland before the doctor came in. They were fast and efficient here. I guess that’s what money bought you.

She went over my chart again and told me everything was progressing normally, which relaxed Ryland a little further. Then we got to the good stuff.

“Okay, so I see a note here that you’d like to know the sex?”

“Yes,” I answered nervously.

Dr. Maria looked up at both of us with a large smile as she pointed at the picture.

“Congratulations mom and dad, it looks like you’re having a little boy.”

“A boy?” I squeaked.

The tears were leaking out of my eyes now, but they were completely happy ones this time. Ryland looked a little pale but flashed me a boyish grin as he processed the news.

Dr. Maria wrapped everything up and said she expected to see me back in a month and to call her should I need anything. Ryland and I both

thanked her before she left, finally giving us a minute to digest everything that had just happened.

He stood up and locked the door behind her while I sat up to right my clothing. But before I could, he was back in front of me.

“Wait,” he pleaded.

I paused, leaving my shirt rolled up. He sank to his knees before me and lifted his trembling hands towards my belly, hesitating for the slightest of moments. He expected me to tell him no, but I didn’t. He splayed his hands across my belly and gave it a gentle kiss. It was undoubtedly the sweetest thing he’d ever done.

He pressed his cheek against me and just sat there for a moment, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed. His warmth melted into me and brought on a sharp pang of longing. I missed these intimate moments between us so much. I wanted to reach down and thread my fingers through his dark hair. I wanted things to be good between us again. Without all the bullshit. Was that even possible?

“It’s killing me,” he rasped, nestling his face against my tummy.

“It’s killing me that I can’t protect you, Brighton. That I almost destroyed the only good thing I had left in my life.”

I remained as still as a statue, but the tears were flowing down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. What to do. I didn’t feel strong anymore.

I felt like I couldn’t go on without him. He loved me fiercely. Obsessively.

Rivalled only by the intensity which I felt for him. So why couldn’t we be together?

“I can’t believe we made this,” he continued. “And that I almost took it away with my stupidity. I understand why you hate me, Brighton. I do. But, I don’t want things to be this way.”

“I don’t hate you, Ryland,” I murmured. “I could never hate you.

Even when I really wanted to.”

He blinked up at me and shook his head. “I thought I could make it up to you. I thought we could get past it. But when I found out you hid this from me, I realized you really did hate me. There was no getting past it.”

I didn’t get angry at his words because I understood what he was trying to say in his roundabout way. This was Ryland telling me he was sorry. And that I’d hurt him. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was there in his eyes. Over the last two months, I’d watched the blueness of those eyes evaporate to gray. I’d watched him punish himself with whiskey and anger.

He was falling apart, and I hated seeing him like this. My normally faultless, beautiful Ryland looked so broken and lost. So fragile and disordered. Neither one of us could continue to go on this way. We had to figure this out, for all of our sakes.

“I hid it because I didn’t trust you,” I said in a gentle tone. “I didn’t believe that you were done with Brayden. And I didn’t want our baby in the middle of that.”

“It’s over,” he said resolutely, clutching his hands around my waist.

“I’m done with it. I swear to you, Brighton.”

“I believe you.” I trembled. And I did. Seeing his face now brought me clarity. He would do anything to protect us. Even if that meant giving up his revenge.

His hands smoothed up my back and then down over my ass, squeezing me as he tugged me towards the edge of the table. There was still a hint of unease in his eyes like he thought I might say no, and if I did, it would break him.

I reached down and slid my fingers through his hair, smoothing it back into place. That was all it took to bring back the familiar hunger in his eyes. He stood and positioned himself between my thighs, gripping my face in his hands. “I miss you.”

I made a noise in my throat, and he swallowed it up with a brutal kiss. I clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, desperately seeking out his warmth. I didn’t even care that we were at the doctor’s office. It didn’t matter where we were, I needed him.

“Ryland,” I moaned.

“I know,” he whispered. “I have to be inside of you. It can’t wait.”

My lips found his throat as he unzipped his pants enough to free his erection and tugged my panties to the side. His hands felt like brands on my body they were so hot, and we were both being clumsy with our movements. His name kept spilling from my mouth in a desperate plea. I just didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t want to spend another day without him. Without this crazy love that existed between us.

Despite the roughness of his palms, he eased inside of me with gentle control. We both groaned, and then he paused.

“Is that okay?”

“God, yes,” I whined. “More please.”

He rooted himself all the way in and then paused to stare at the place where we were connected like he almost couldn’t believe it was real. I pulled him closer and guided his lips to my neck.

“It’s real,” I promised. “It’s real…”

“Never again,” he swore.

My head shook frantically as I agreed with him. “No, never again.”

We would never be apart again.

He feathered kisses along my skin as he started to move. It was a combination of slow and hard like he wasn’t sure how much I could take.

Either way, he’d only been inside of me for two minutes, and we were both on the verge of exploding already. His hands pushed my shirt up over my breasts, groping them with his palms. And then pulled back to gape at them.

“Holy fuck. They’re huge, baby girl.”

I laughed. They weren’t that huge, but they definitely felt like it.

They’d grown a lot already.

He flicked his thumbs over my nipples, and I whimpered. I was still super sensitive, and if he kept doing that, I wouldn’t even last another minute. Sure enough, the moment his lips latched onto the lace covered flesh, I started to spasm around him.

I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep quiet, and Ryland spluttered in surprise.

“That was fast.”

“I needed this.” I pulled his mouth back to mine. “I needed you.”

My words set him off too, and he twitched and jerked inside of me while he devoured me with his lips.

“Christ, baby girl. I needed that too. So much.”

He didn’t move from inside of me, and I was glad. His hands continued to explore my body, his eyes following their movements.

“You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do carrying my baby,” he said. “There aren’t even words, Brighton.”

He didn’t have to tell me because I could feel him swelling inside of me again. I didn’t want this to end, but I knew someone would be knocking on the door any minute now. Ryland must have read my thoughts because a moment later, he pulled out.

“Let’s go home, baby.” ***

Ryland held my hand as we stepped into the elevator. I squeezed back a little tighter than necessary as I waited to see what button he’d push.

When he hit the button for his floor, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

He didn’t say a word as he led me into his apartment, but the moment we were inside, he pulled me into his arms. Soft fingers brushed my cheek while he searched my eyes.

“I need to know this is what you want,” he said. “Because I’m all in now, Brighton. No more games. If you commit to this, it’s for good.”

“I’m committed,” I told him without hesitation. “This is what I want, Ryland. You, me, and our baby. That’s what matters.”

He crushed me against his chest and kissed my temple. “It’s all that fucking matters,” he agreed. “And nothing else is going to change that.”

I reached for his hand and started walking backwards, leading him to the bedroom. He smirked.

“I have a lot to atone for, don’t I?” “You have no idea,” I said. “My hormones are crazy right now. It’s very possible I might never let you leave this apartment again.”

Clear blue eyes settled on me with a hint of amusement. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

Chapter Twenty-Three Ryland The weekend passed in a cloud-like dream as I nestled my favorite appendage inside of Brighton again and again.

See, I could be romantic?

Under a self-imposed lockdown, we didn’t leave the apartment once. Phones turned off, business neglected, calls unanswered. Nothing else existed. She was back in my arms. In my bed. Back to letting me have my way with her. It was all going swimmingly.

We hungered for each other. Maddeningly. Obsessively so. But wasn’t that the whole point? Weren’t we all just looking for someone we could fuck until the end of time and chase those euphoric rainbows with?

For me, I had no further to look than the woman cocooned between my legs at present. Her cheek utilized my chest as a pillow without any protest from me. Strawberry gold spilled down her back in tangled curls that my fingers stroked lazily. The lids of her normally waifish eyes were heavy and drowsy under the weight of contentment. The steady thrum of my heartbeat pulsed beneath her, drugging her with its melodic rhythm.

I quietly speculated how long it’d be before she was asleep again. I wouldn’t move. I enjoyed this far too much. Even with a dead arm and a pressing need for sustenance. Now that all was right in my world again, hunger had returned with a ravenous vengeance.

It was a toss-up whether food should be first on the agenda, or another round of marathon fucking. I thought I’d purged it all from my system only twenty minutes ago, but already my cock was stirring again.

Briefly, I toyed with the idea of licking rum raisin ice cream off of Brighton’s every curve and valley. Two birds, one stone.

The dilemma was effectively quashed when her fingers traced over the scars on my chest, her brow furrowed. That look meant she was deep in thought, which didn’t bode well for me or my needy cock.

My palms held her against me in a bruising grip, just on the off chance she was rethinking this.

“We need to talk, Ryland.”

I kissed the top of her forehead and smothered my face in her hair.

“No, we don’t.”

My lips made a mad dash for her neck, but she stopped me cold.

“I’m serious,” she protested. “You aren’t going to distract me with sex.”

Grabbing her hand, I pressed it against the bulge in my briefs and gave her a boyish grin. “C’mon, let’s get frisky, baby.”

Nothing good could come of talking. I knew this, and yet, she pursed her lips. She usually liked it when I was being smart. Not this time, apparently. Christ, she really wanted to talk.

“What’s the matter?” I sounded more reluctant than a sixty-year-old nun, even to my own ears.

Brighton gave me that look in response. The one that told me to quit feeling sorry for myself and suck it up. So I stroked her back in encouragement even though I only wanted to fuck these thoughts right out of her system, whatever they may be.

“A lot,” she answered. “We have a lot to talk about. But first I want to start with the car crash.”

My spine compressed, and the aggravation in my tone wasn’t well disguised. “No, Brighton.”

“There are things I need to know,” she insisted. “I can’t move forward until I do.”

The tension in my jaw burned all the way down my throat. Six months ago, I’d have told her it was non-negotiable. But as I’d promised you- and her- I was trying to bend. Being the master of your own universe isn’t an easy habit to break. But as I sought refuge in the depths of her hazel eyes, I recognized the significance of her need for this.

I rubbed the back of my neck. No doubt this was going to hurt like hell. I wished I had some whiskey. What’s more, some rum raisin ice cream.

My first plan sounded infinitely better than what she had in mind.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what happened that night,” she said. “How you set it up.

How it was supposed to go.”

The rational part of me understood why she was asking, but even now, I pictured her face that night. The blood and the fear. Everything

inside of me clammed up, and I felt like a junkie who’d missed his last ten fixes.

“I know it’s hard for you, Ryland.” She cradled my face in her palms. “But I just need to know.”

She wanted to know if I had any idea she was in the car that night. I didn’t. I’d never told her because it was irrelevant. Regardless of my lack of knowledge, there was no justification.

“You knew Brayden would come straight to me,” she pressed. “If he came to California.”

“I did.”

She waited anxiously, and I searched her pretty face with my eyes. I was afraid to tell her these things. Afraid she’d only ever see me as a monster who couldn’t be redeemed. Squeezing her hand in mine, I anchored myself with her warmth as I tripped around the words in my brain.

“I forwarded Brayden’s number to my phone before I left that night,” I told her. “Then had maintenance disable the elevator from reaching the top floor and lock the stairwell.”

Her face remained a mask of stoicism as she processed my words. I hadn’t a clue what she was thinking. The sadist in me demanded I put a stop to this bullshit at once. Her mouth had so many other beneficial uses than dredging up the past. It was fear talking, okay? Don’t write me off completely.

“So Brayden wouldn’t be able to contact me,” she reasoned out loud.

I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall against the headboard.

I’d prefer her impassivity over disappointment any day of the week.

“I really did have a business dinner that night,” I explained. “Mick was tracking Brayden through his phone. Neither of us anticipated you’d be there with him.”

“So he didn’t know I was in the car,” Brighton whispered. “Is he the one who ran us off the road?”

“Yes.” I swallowed. “I called Nicole during dinner, and she told me you were in bed asleep. She’d never lied to me before, so I had no reason not to believe it. Then Mick called me an hour later and told me he’d done what I’d asked. I met him there.”

Brighton shook in my arms as all of my vile admissions spewed from my mouth like lava. I couldn’t stop them now. She’d asked for it. I

wanted her forgiveness. I needed her to wipe my slate clean and anoint me with her purity again. I clutched her tighter, terrified to let go. She was too small and fragile.

“I had no fucking idea, baby girl,” I choked out my desperation. “I swear I didn’t. I’d never do that to you. You have to believe it.”

“But you’d do it to Brayden,” she answered. “You wanted to.”

“Yes, I wanted to.” There was no point denying it.

“So why didn’t you?”

I opened my eyes and gazed into hers. Even brimming with tears, they were the most exquisite colors I’d ever seen. The sadist in me thought the tears only made them more so. Crystalline blue tinged with balmy gray and honeyed amber. They held an entire landscape within them- where the mountains met the sea in a collision of drizzling rain and thunder. Nothing else in the world rivaled them. The windows to her soul, they often conveyed her thoughts so openly. But not this time. She was keeping her emotions very close to the vest, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“I don’t know,” I answered finally. Honestly. I didn’t know why I couldn’t pull the trigger that night. “I kept looking at him and thinking about you. About how much it would hurt you.”

“And what if you’d done it?” she asked. “Then what would have happened? What was the plan then?”

“I didn’t have one,” I admitted. Everything I’d planned was only about that moment. The rush I’d feel in those brief few seconds when justice was exacted, and all was right with the world again. I wanted to taste Brayden’s agony. To feel its presence choking the life out of him like I’d felt that night. He was the only one who could pay up. The only one left to settle the score.

“So you weren’t going to try to cover it up?”

I hadn’t a clue why this mattered, but I answered anyway. “No.” “You would have just gone to prison, lost everything.”

“If that’s what ensued, then yes.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed. “You’ve built an empire.

And you would just let all of that go, just to kill Brayden?”

“My company was built out of necessity,” I replied. “I needed resources to do what I planned. Money, power. It was all a piece of the plan.

Not the other way around.”

“So you spent five years working yourself to death, planning all of this… and now you’re ready to let it go?”

Her voice was tinged with doubt. I didn’t blame her. She told me earlier she believed me, but she’d always have her reasons not to trust me.

We’d probably come back to this dead horse time and time again.

“I already have let it go.” I grazed her throat with my lips and inhaled her scent tangled with mine. My chest inflated with male pride that she smelled of me. That she looked so beautifully ravaged and thoroughly fucked, by none other than yours truly. It did things to me. And again, the importance of her presence in my life socked me in the gut.

“I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving it,” I murmured.

“But why now?” she asked. “You said you decided before you even knew I was pregnant.”

My thumb explored the curve of her pretty pink lips, coveting the tiny hitch in her breath when I touched her this way. “I did it for you,” I said. “I almost lost you. And nothing could ever be worth going through that again.”

She blinked away her tears and nodded in apparent satisfaction as she wrapped her body around me like a vice. “I trust you not to hurt me again, Ryland,” she whispered. “Don’t make me regret that.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brighton Ryland had all of my stuff moved back into his apartment. I didn’t really see the point since we’d be moving again soon anyway, but he’d insisted.

And although Emma had been very helpful for the short time that I had her around, he’d also cut back her hours. Now that we were living together, he agreed that I didn’t really need someone with me round the clock.

It was a relief, and we had a schedule where I could call Emma if I ever needed her for the day. She seemed to be more than happy with the system as well, as opposed to sleeping on Nicole’s sofa.

I was sewing a lot. Ryland’s donation to Sophia’s Shoes meant there was more we could do with it. Nicole and I were working on expanding and outsourcing some of the sewing projects. But it was still something I enjoyed doing, so I wanted to keep it up for as long as I could manage.

Now we were sitting in the apartment, at one of our weekly meetings to discuss the foundation. This was one of Nicole’s ideas, but really I thought it was an excuse for us to eat dessert and hang out. I loved it.

“What about a scholarship program?” she asked, dunking a donut into her hot black coffee.

She and Matt were both sitting across from me, and he was probably bored out of his mind. But ever since Nicole had warmed up to him being around, he was taking full advantage of it. I’d never seen either of them look so happy, and it made me happy too.

“What kind of scholarship?” I asked. “They’re little girls, so I don’t know how that would work.”

“Well, I know,” Nicole said thoughtfully. “But maybe we could expand into older age brackets too. We could even do a scholarship for a ballet school every couple of years if it fits into the budget.”

I mulled over her words carefully before I realized how much they made sense. When I started all of this, I was only thinking of girls around Sophia’s age who would have been nine or younger. But it wasn’t fair to exclude the older kids who didn’t have access to these kinds of programs.

“I think you’re right,” I agreed. “It sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll do some poking around,” she said. “And tell you what I come up with.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “So what do you need from me for the charity gala?”

“Well, we’re meeting with Alex Burton next week. He’s interested in the foundation, and I have a really good feeling about this.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?” I asked.

“Because…” Nicole glanced at Matt and then back to me. “It’s one of Ryland’s competitors. He’s probably not going to like it, but this isn’t about him.”

“Oh.” I really didn’t want to start poking the bear again already, but Nicole was right. This was about the charity and not about Ryland’s business.

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” I said. “As long as we keep business out of it. This is just for Sophia’s Shoes.”

“Absolutely.” Nicole grinned. “This guy is a big fish, and I want to reel him in while I’ve got a chance.”

“How did you even get him to agree to a meeting?” I asked.

So far we’d been struggling to find big donors for such a small charity.

“Brighton, you underestimate me.” She laughed. “I still have plenty of contacts in the industry.”

I smiled too because I remembered the last time she’d said those words. It was because she was helping Ryland plan his revenge. We’d come a long way since then, and I trusted Nicole with all my heart now.

“Anything else?” I asked. “Do you need help with the planning?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Got it all covered. I just need you to show up and smile while you mix with the wealthy and convince them to sign over some hard earned money to our cause.”

“I’m sure with Ryland beside me it won’t be an issue.” I grinned.

“He’ll do all the work just by showing up.”

“I think you’re right,” she agreed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about this.”

“Me too. So now that we’ve got all of that settled…” I folded my hands across the counter and took on a serious expression. “It’s onto the second order of business.”

Nicole wiggled around in her seat and clasped her hands together in eager anticipation. I’d made her wait for the news because I knew she’d be dragging me to every shopping center in a fifty-mile radius once I told her.

“Oh my God,” she squeaked. “It’s a boy, isn’t it? I just know it’s a boy.”

I kept my expression flat, giving nothing away. How the hell did she know that?

“I read online that if you’re carrying low, it’s a boy.”

I knew that was an old wives’ tale. Still, I looked down at my belly and frowned. “How can you tell?”

“I don’t really know,” Nicole admitted. “But once I read it I thought it looked that way to me. Or maybe I just really want it to be a boy.”

“Well, then I guess you’ll be happy to know you’ve gotten your way?”

She clapped her hands over her mouth and then smacked Matt in the chest. He grinned.

“Seriously?” she gasped. “It’s a boy. Oh my God. We have to go shopping.”

Point made.

“Yes, Nicole.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ll have to go shopping. Maybe next week.”

“Tomorrow,” she insisted. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Matt gave me a shrug that said everything I needed to know. Just like Ryland, Nicole was used to getting her way.

“Alright,” I relented. “Tomorrow it is then.” *** During the course of our time apart, I realized that I’d missed Ryland’s birthday. I felt horrible about it, especially when I learned that it was the night he came over to my apartment. The night he discovered I’d hidden the baby from him.

When I brought it up with Nicole, she told me he hadn’t done anything for his birthday for the last six years. It broke my heart. Ryland gave me anything I wanted without blinking an eye, and he never made me feel guilty for it. He insisted that his money was mine, and I shouldn’t have any qualms about spending it.

It still felt weird though, and I didn’t like to go overboard on things.

In a way, I was grateful that he was so involved in the whole process. We didn’t buy anything- whether it was car seats or baby toys- until he’d looked at all the safety specs first. Again, it was just another one of his freakishly adorable traits.

But when it came to his birthday present, I had no idea what to get him. Buying something at a store- with his money no less- felt cheap. So over the last two weeks, I’d worked on something else. Something that came from the heart. I had no idea if he was going to like it or not, but I’d compiled everything I could think of into a scrapbook of our time together.

There were quotes and lyrics that reminded me of him or things he’d said to me during our time together that I wanted to remember. I’d written him little notes about some of the good memories I had and told him about the first pregnancy moments I’d experienced without him. I wanted him to be a part of it, all of it, and to know how much I loved him.

I’d been sneaking photos of him at every opportunity I got, and even some photos of us together. He was surprisingly okay with that, and it usually led to him sneaking photos of me for his own private stash. When I’d found that he actually printed off a candid photo of me and placed it on his desk beside his growing collection, we had another memory to add to his office that afternoon.

Now I was at the apartment, prepared to finally give him the present I’d worked so hard on. I’d spent the entire afternoon attempting to cook him a nice dinner, and nothing was going to plan. By the time he came in, I was covered in flour and frustration. My roast had burnt, and my chocolate cake was under cooked.

I was going to be a terrible mother.

“Brighton?” he shot me a questioning glance when he saw the mess around me.

Suddenly, it wasn’t just his birthday that I’d ruined, it was a whole lot of other things. I was a big fat failure, and I was terrified for my poor baby. Tears welled in my eyes, and I tried to shoo him away. He didn’t

leave of course. He strode right over and pulled me against his chest, no concern whatsoever that I was getting his clothes dirty.

He gripped my chin and tilted, his blue eyes searching mine.

“What’s the matter, baby girl?”

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I blurted. “Moms are supposed to be able to cook for their children. I can’t even do it for you.”

He laughed and gave me a little squeeze, pressing a tender kiss against my temple. Then he grabbed my hand and led me to the sofa, gesturing for me to sit. I watched him unbutton his collar and roll up his sleeves before he sat down beside me and pulled me into his lap.

“We’ll order out tonight.” His fingers massaged my neck, making me forget my epic failure as his warmth seeped into me. He had such a calming effect on me when he wanted to.

“You don’t have to know how to cook to be a good mother, Brighton,” he continued. “And besides, I’m sure you’ll learn if you really want to.”

“It isn’t fair, though,” I protested.

“What isn’t?” he asked, brushing my hair back over my shoulders.

“You’re smart and beautiful and perfect, and you’ll be able to teach him everything,” I complained. “You don’t even have to try to be a good father. But what do I have to offer?”

Ryland stiffened beneath me, his palm pulling my gaze back to his.

“You really think that?” he asked. “You think I’m going to be a good father?”

I couldn’t believe he even had to ask. I knew he was. But there was a hint of worry in his eyes, and I realized I wasn’t the only one who was afraid. I gave him a soft smile and stroked his cheek, enjoying the way he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “An overprotective one, sure. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His lips found mine, and he kissed me long and hard before pulling back with a lazy smile.

“Brighton, you’re going to be great, I promise you. You already have everything you need.”

“I’m afraid I’ll be like Norma,” I admitted. “I’m afraid I won’t know how to show affection or say the right things.”

“Baby.” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “You have nothing to worry about. You aren’t anything like Norma.”

He didn’t say it with anger or hatred, but just like he was stating a fact. And it reassured me for some reason.

“What was your mom like?” I whispered.

Ryland frowned and buried his face in my neck, holding me close while the silence stretched between us. I knew he didn’t like to talk about these things, but I wanted him to. I wanted him to remember the good things about his family, and I wanted to know them in the only way that I could.

“She was incredible,” he finally murmured against my skin.

“Everything a kid could ask for. The whole cookie-baking, soccer mom, white picket fence Americana. A genius too.”

“Wow,” I remarked. “So that’s where you get it.”

“She was a senior analyst for Selvek Communications back in Chicago when my father met her. But once she had me, she gave it all up to be a stay at home mom. I asked her once if she ever regretted it, but she said it was the best decision she ever made.”

“I’m sure she meant it, Ryland.” I threaded my fingers through his and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m sure they both loved you very much.”

“She didn’t know how critical my father’s finances were,” he said quietly. “I certainly didn’t. He kept up pretenses that everything was okay.

He’d sent me to business school and groomed me to take over his company even though he was on the brink of self-destruction.”

It was difficult to imagine why a father would ever turn to men like Frankie’s boss for money. But when I thought about the position he was in, there was a small part of me that tried to understand. He had a family to take care of, one that he didn’t want to let down. I never wanted Ryland to feel that way.

“You know that even if you lost everything, and we had to live in a cardboard box, I’d still be by your side.”

He looked down at me with fiercely possessive eyes and a lazy grin.

“I know you would, Brighton. But I’m always going to take care of you.”

His hands started to roam, and I knew we wouldn’t get anything accomplished if I let it go on. So I stood up and walked to the breakfast bar to grab his present.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you,” I told him as I took my place back in his lap.

He stared down at the package in my hands with an odd expression before lifting his gaze to mine.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a very belated birthday gift.” I smiled.

He reached towards it tentatively, but there was a hint of impatience on his face. My stomach fluttered as I handed it off to him, and now I had no idea if he was going to like it.

“It’s nothing big,” I said. “So don’t get too excited… I just…”

He reached down and kissed me hard and quick to shut me up.

“Shh… don’t do that thing.”

“What thing?” I asked.

“That thing where you try to make it seem like it’s nothing.”

I pouted, and he ripped off the paper, flipping open the book. When he saw the first page and my inscription, the smile slipped from his face and turned to something else. I couldn’t quite make it out, but I knew it wasn’t disappointment.

He was quiet for a long time as he flipped through each page meticulously, taking it all in while I held my breath. When he finally got to the last page and shut the book, I was already about to do the thing again.

“Brighton…” his voice was rough as he stared at me with cloudy eyes. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me.”

My chest swelled with pride and relief as I ran my fingers through his hair, my eyes roaming over his face for what must have been the millionth time since I’d met him. He only became more handsome with each passing day. The blue of his irises were tinted with small fractals of shattered crystal. How easily they could change, and yet even at their darkest, they were a terrifyingly beautiful sight. Long black lashes fluttered closed as I traced the lines of his perfect jaw and nose with my fingertips.

How could someone so striking ever want to be with me? I still didn’t know. He was the embodiment of refinement, intelligence… he exuded confidence in spades. His body was a work of art in the nude or in his favored Brioni suits. Sometimes when I looked at him, I couldn’t comprehend that his beauty was real. That by his own admission, he existed solely for me and no one else.

A small part of me still feared that he would outgrow this attachment. That at some point, he would realize the girl sitting in front of him was less than he deserved. He’d done awful things, it was true. But it

didn’t place us on an even playing field. I wasn’t and never would be in a league with him. The intensity of my fears and insecurities threatened to snuff out everything good between us as I reached up and gripped his collar.

“Don’t ever leave me,” I implored. “Don’t ever grow tired of me, Ryland. I won’t be able to handle it.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered as he gripped my face painfully. “That is never going to happen, baby girl. Never.”

He reached down and ripped my blouse at the seams, sending buttons scattering everywhere. Solid, warm fingers slipped over my lace clad breasts, making my head fall back as I gripped his biceps. I was so sensitive there that the slightest touch had me drunk with lust.

His head dipped and burrowed between them for a moment before he slipped my bra straps off my shoulders and down. His hot, wet mouth latched onto me, and a feral groan escaped my chest as I cradled his head against me.

He sucked me long and hard, flicking my nipple with his tongue while he murmured reverent words into my skin. He repeated the same process on my other breast, and I thought I might explode from this act alone. It was so intimate the way he sucked on them now like he couldn’t get enough of them. Like he’d love to stay there for days on end.

I would gladly let him.

I massaged his neck and shoulders and watched with hooded eyes as he took long deep pulls with his mouth. Finally, he released me with a pop and brought his hungry mouth to mine.

My lips parted for him, and he swept his tongue inside, drinking me in like he couldn’t get enough. At some point during the ravenous kiss, he lifted me up and bent me over the sofa.

My skirt came down and pooled around my ankles before his hands slipped inside of my panties and fondled my ass. And then he kneeled behind me, quickly dispensing with the panties altogether. His lips trailed over me, kissing every inch of my bottom while he squeezed the flesh with his palms.

His gentleness was replaced with the scrape of his teeth, and my breath began to quicken as I gripped the sofa with white knuckles. This was what I loved. What I needed from him.

His possession. His obsession. His need to claim me. I hoped he would never stop claiming me.

I moaned when he sank his teeth into the fleshy part of my ass and then soothed it with his tongue and a tender kiss. Gentle and rough at the same time. That was my lover in a nutshell.

He stood up and spanked my ass right over the bite mark, shocking me. And then his cock was rubbing against me, soaking wet with my arousal.

“You like that, baby girl?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes,” I panted.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Fuck me,” I begged.

He laughed and ground his hardness against my ass. “Such a filthy mouth. I should punish you for that.”

A whimper escaped me as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me back against the engorged head of his cock. He slid partially inside without any resistance from my body and then held impossibly still. Pure torture.

Hot fingers grazed the length of my spine, stroking all the places he’d marked me with his initials. I wondered if he was thinking of them now.

“Do you miss your trophies?” I asked.

His hand trailed up the curve of my back and over my neck. A tug on my hair and my gaze met his.

“You’re my trophy,” he declared as he thrust deep inside of me.

I whimpered, and his fingers clamped down on my shoulders, an unconscious and unnecessary reminder that he was in absolute control of me. I loved that. I never wanted him to stop.

He pressed his body against me, the warmth of his chest radiating into my back. Somewhere along the way, he’d managed to discard his shirt without me even realizing it. This was how I preferred him. Skin on skin.

Nothing between us. I knew he loved it too.

His fingers brushed over the pulse in my throat, letting me know he was there without any pressure. It excited me nonetheless.

“Tell me I’m the only one who will ever have you,” he whispered in my ear.

“You’re the only one,” I mewled. “You’ve been the only one. You always will.”

“You look so fucking hot like this,” he declared. “Bent over and stuffed full of my cock. Swollen with my baby. Christ, Brighton, it does me in just looking at you.”

His hips smacked against my ass and my moans vibrated all the way down my spine. I was so close, and his words were forcing me over the edge. His fingers reached around and played with my clit roughly while his other clamped over my mouth. I nearly buckled from the pressure building inside me and Ryland had to hold me up as I finally exploded around him.

My orgasms had been insanely intense the farther along I got, and this one was no exception. I was hanging like a limp noodle in his arms while he kissed the back of my neck and murmured sweet words. His hips continued to roll in and out in a steady, even pattern. His breath was ragged as groans ripped from his chest. He was getting close, and his hands tightened their grip on me as a telltale sign.

“Say the words,” he clipped out. “Say what I want to hear.”

I knew what he wanted. But this time I wasn’t going to give it to him. I was going to tell him what I wanted to say instead. I reached back and wrapped my arm around his neck, bringing his gaze to mine as he drove into me from behind.

“You’re mine,” I declared. “Only mine.”

Ryland cursed and jerked inside of me, his eyes falling shut as he released an almighty roar of sweet agony.

The minute it was over, we collapsed onto the sofa, a panting sticky mess. My head ended up in his lap somehow, his fingers stroking my hair as he stared down at me with nothing but tenderness. This was quickly becoming my favorite part. The way he took care of me afterwards.

Always.

“Happy, baby?” he asked.

“Yes.” I smiled against him.

“I’m going to make you happy for the rest of your life,” he whispered. “I’m never letting you go, Brighton.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Brighton Nicole picked me up at noon and drove me to Alex Burton’s office in the sky.

While The Bennett Corporation was housed in the historical district of San Francisco, Burton Corp was modern all the way. The building itself was nothing more than a heap of sharp asymmetrical lines that rose towards the clouds like a beacon of superiority. I didn’t like it at all.

Perhaps it was my guilt talking. I hadn’t told Ryland I was coming here because I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be pleased with this development.

We signed in at the front desk and rode the elevator all the way to the top floor. The interior was filled with squeaky clean glass and chrome at every turn, and I was afraid to touch anything for fear of leaving a fingerprint. I remembered thinking how Ryland’s building was fancy inside, but it wasn’t nearly as pretentious as this.

Three immaculately groomed receptionists greeted us as we stepped off the elevator and offered us a drink. I accepted a bottle of water graciously as my lips started to stick together.

My foot bobbed up and down while we took a seat and waited. It had been a while since I’d worn heels, and it felt a little strange. I was also wearing one of Ryland’s favorite dresses. White with a flared waist. It was the only stylish dress I had that fit my growing belly. Since I’d been pregnant, I’d been shopping for comfort, not style.

Nicole was wearing a Valentino business dress, looking cool as a cucumber. I didn’t know how she managed to stay so calm when my palms were sticking together.

“Quit fidgeting,” she whispered. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I just keep thinking maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Ryland’s competitor has taken a sudden interest in our foundation?”

“He’s a philanthropist.” She shrugged. “Who cares what his reasons are as long as he donates to the foundation and spreads the word.”

I didn’t share the same confidence. But I didn’t have any more time to think it over because one of the receptionists appeared in front of us with a smile.

“Mr. Burton is ready for you now.”

She ushered us down the hallway and into his office. It was huge and completely ostentatious. The walls were a deep mahogany color, and they were filled with awards and photographs of Mr. Burton and some very notable faces.

When I swung my gaze to the real life version, I was surprised to find he didn’t really look at all like I’d imagined him. He was tall and lean and had dark appraising eyes and jet black hair. He oozed charm and sophistication, and his features were carefully schooled to reflect that, even as his eyes trailed over my body.

I suddenly felt very much on display.

“Please.” He gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. “Have a seat, ladies.”

Nicole and I both sat, and I wrung my hands together in my lap as he continued to watch me. It might have been paranoia, but I swore he hadn’t even glanced at Nicole yet.

“Miss Valentine.” He smiled. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.”

“You have?” I blinked.

“Of course.” He tilted his head back in laughter. “San Francisco is really just like a small town when you take into account this industry. I would have poached you myself if I wasn’t certain that Ryland had no intention of letting you slip away.”

I shifted in my seat and gave him a weak smile. His words were friendly, charismatic even, but I wasn’t comfortable with him talking about Ryland. And I wasn’t dumb enough to believe that my credentials were in high demand. Nicole must have felt the same tension because she brought the subject around immediately.

“Thank you so much for meeting with us to discuss our foundation, Mr. Burton. We are so very pleased that you’ve taken time out of your busy schedule for this.”

“Yes, well…” He tapped a pen against his oak desk and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll get to all of that. First, I want to know something.”

He was looking at me. I swallowed and glanced at Nicole. She gave me an encouraging smile like all of this was normal.

“What would you like to know, Mr. Burton?” I asked.

“What I’d like to know is…” He leaned forward with a charming grin. “If you’d share one dance with me at the charity gala next week?”

My cheeks flushed, and I couldn’t hide it. Was he flirting with me?

Surely he could see I was pregnant. It was blatantly obvious.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture as if sensing my discomfort. “Just a harmless dance,” he assured me. “I’ll be honest in saying that while I do appreciate a good charitable function now and again, they need to be beneficial for me as well in some way. And me being connected to your charity is good publicity.”

I didn’t see how those dots connected in his mind, but I didn’t really understand these things. Ryland was also forced to attend some events he’d much rather not because he said it was good for business. So I didn’t see the harm in having one dance at a public event with this man, even though Ryland was going to hate it.

“Okay,” I relented. “I guess that could be arranged.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “Once that’s accomplished, I’ll be more than happy to make a rather sizable donation to your cause.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Burton.” Nicole bobbed her head in excitement. “We really appreciate this opportunity to have you attend one of our events.”

He looked at me again and winked. “Believe me. The pleasure is all mine.” *** Three days had passed since my meeting with Alex, and I still hadn’t told Ryland about it. I hated hiding things from him, but everything was going so well I didn’t want to ruin it.

The charity gala was on Saturday, and Nicole and I were out shopping for dresses. There wasn’t a large selection of maternity wear that I liked, and everything seemed to cling to my body too tightly. I grumbled in frustration as I shoved another silky gown back onto the rack.

“What about this one?” Nicole held up an emerald green dress.

I wrinkled my nose in response. Everyone always told me I should wear green because of my red hair, but it was so not my color.

“Well, I’m afraid that’s the last suggestion I have,” she said. “Should we try another store?”

I nodded, and we walked back out onto the street. There was a man leaning against the brick building across the way reading a newspaper.

Normally, I wouldn’t have even noticed, but I’d seen him earlier while Nicole and I were having lunch too. That was all the way over by our apartment.

“Didn’t we see him earlier?” Nicole whispered.

“Yes,” I grumbled.

“This has Ryland written all over it.” She shook her head. “He’s so paranoid something’s going to happen to you.”

While my first inclination was to agree with her, there was something different about this guy. Mick often wore suits, but they were department store fit. This one looked like it had been seamlessly tailored to this man’s body, and I knew his shoes were real Italian leather because Ryland had the same pair. There was something suspicious about it because he didn’t look like a bodyguard. I mentally catalogued it as something else I’d have to bring up with Ryland later as we continued on to the next store.

By the time we finally got back to the apartment, I was exhausted.

Shopping with Nicole should have been considered an Olympic sport. I set down my bags and kicked off my shoes before I went in search of Ryland. I found him on his weight bench, pressing out reps like nobody’s business.

Good Lord, he was sexy like that.

He had the music up, so he didn’t hear me come in. For a moment, I just stood in the doorway and watched his biceps flex as he lifted the bar above his head. His entire chest stretched and pulled, rippling down his abs from the effort. They were glistening with sweat, and I had the strangest urge to rub all over him. Chalk it up to the hormones.

With any other man, it wouldn’t have been sexy. But Ryland in this state had my panties clinging to me already. My eyes roamed over the trail of hair that disappeared into his black fleece track pants. I could see the bulge of his cock from where I stood, even though he wasn’t hard. I was having a hard time tearing my eyes away from it when he looked up and

caught me ogling him. I grinned and shrugged in embarrassment as he hit pause on the stereo remote.

He sat up and leaned forward on his elbows, rubbing a towel over his face before he smirked.

“What’s up, baby girl?”

I walked towards him and slid onto the weight bench in front of him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling his face to mine.

“Miss me?” he murmured against my lips.

“Every second of every day,” I answered.

He crushed me against his chest with a groan, pushing my dress up my thighs with strong warm fingers. “Do you want to take a shower with me?” he asked.

“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “I want you just like this.”

He groaned again and then nipped at my ear. “Such a dirty girl.”

He tried to lift me up, but I placed my hand in the center of his chest and pushed him back down. There was something about seeing him in this position- vulnerable to me- that I really liked. And I had every intention of exploring it.

His eyes flared when I leaned down and flicked my tongue over his nipple, tasting the salt on his skin. He made a strangled noise in his throat that sounded very much like approval, so I did it again to the other side.

“Put your hands behind your head,” I ordered.

He arched a brow at me and gave me that look. The one that told me he was always in control and I had no idea who I was talking to.

“Do it,” I said again.

“Someone’s bossy today.” He flashed me an arrogant grin as he reluctantly put his hands behind his head and watched me curiously.

I stood up and peeled off every scrap of clothing I had on, discarding it on the floor before reaching down to tug off his pants. His cock lay heavy against his belly, already pulsing with need as he watched me.

I sat between his legs and glided my hands up his thighs, teasing his balls with the pads of my fingers. Ryland’s eyes grew heavy with lust, and his cock jerked in excitement.

I climbed over so that I was straddling his body and rubbed myself against him. I was already soaked with arousal, and I glided over his hard

flesh with ease, watching his eyes close and lips part as he instinctively bumped his hips up to greet me.

I didn’t let him inside. Teasing him, I positioned him right where I needed him for the maximum amount of friction. There was something incredibly erotic about sliding all over his body like this while he lay powerless beneath me.

His biceps flexed and twitched, an obvious sign he was struggling to maintain his control. Ryland’s nature was to take over and dominate everything, but I knew sometimes he liked it when I took that control away from him too.

I reached up and cupped my breasts, and his eyes darkened, growing hungrier by the second. I was moving faster against him now, sliding along his shaft and grinding my hips down onto his. I pressed my hands against his chest and rocked back and forth while he rolled his hips to collide with mine.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he grunted. “I could watch you do this all day, baby girl.”

His words sent me flying over the edge, and I closed my eyes as shudders wracked my body. Ryland grabbed me around the waist and pulled me forward, drawing my breast into his mouth with long, deep pulls.

I whimpered while he continued to grind against me, fondling my breasts like a man possessed. He really was obsessed with them, but I loved this newfound kink of his.

The next thing I knew, his cock was throbbing beneath me as he spilled himself across his belly. His lips found mine with a searing kiss before he sat up to hold me in his arms. I looked down at the red marks his ministrations had left all over my chest, and he just sat there with a guilty grin.

“Someone’s being very greedy lately,” I teased.

His eyes were already heavy with lust again, and I could feel him swelling beneath me in preparation for another round. We were a hot sticky mess, but I didn’t care. I pulled him against me and kissed my way up the hollow of his throat, tasting his salt and skin.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“Love you too.” He pressed his lips against mine. “So fucking much.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brighton The charity gala had finally arrived.

Nicole and I spent two hours doing our hair and makeup, and I was a nervous wreck as I smoothed my dress out in the mirror.

It was a floor length ivory lace gown with a bow around the waist that accentuated my bump and generous breasts. It wasn’t as clingy as the others I’d tried on, and I loved the way it looked on me. Apparently, Ryland did too.

He stood behind me in the mirror, handsome as ever in a black Ralph Lauren tux. He was clean-shaven and sporting a fresh hair cut that swept into a perfect wave away from his forehead. The lines of his jaw were prominent- yet healthy- and the blue of his irises contrasted strikingly with the darkness of his suit. In short, the man was devastatingly beautiful. His eyes filled with so much warmth and tenderness as they roamed over me that the guilt started to eat at me.

I still hadn’t told him about Alex, but he would find out soon enough. And I had every reason to believe he’d feel betrayed. I didn’t blame him, but I just couldn’t find the courage to tell him what I needed to.

Especially when he was looking at me like that. Like he loved me so fucking much he couldn’t breathe without me.

I turned towards him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning up on my toes to press my lips against his. His fingers brushed over the back of my neck, massaging me lightly.

“Nervous?” he asked. “You look it.”

I gave him a weak smile. “I’m a little nervous,” I admitted. Because I haven’t told you the truth. Please don’t hate me.

He threaded his fingers through mine and brought my upturned palm to his lips. “You’re going to smash it, baby girl. I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

“I know.” I brushed my hand over his cheek. “Thank you.”

I knew Ted was downstairs waiting for us, but Ryland hesitated as though he wanted to say something else. I ran my fingers over the lapels of his tux, waiting for him to find the words.

“I haven’t told you,” he said softly, “but I’m proud of you for doing this.”

Oh, God. The guilt was unbearable. I could barely even look at him.

I felt like such a horrible person. He was opening up to me, and I was about to spring something on him that was certain to make him angry.

“Thank you,” I squeaked. “But it’s not necessary.”

“It is,” he assured me. “What you’re doing Brighton, it’s really something special.”

I buried my face against his chest, my eyes burning with tears.

Suddenly, I didn’t even want to go to the gala. Why had I ever agreed to dance with Alex Burton? It was just a stupid dance, but Ryland wouldn’t see it that way. Deep down in my gut, I knew Alex had an ulterior motive. I wanted to call the whole thing off now, but I couldn’t. So I opened my mouth to unburden myself.

“Ryland, there’s something…”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Nicole called out as she strolled into the apartment. “Are you ready? We’ve been waiting downstairs for you.”

Ryland reached for my hand, and the opportunity was gone. I gave Matt and Nicole a shaky smile as they led me towards what I was certain would be a disaster. *** The event planner had really gone above and beyond. The Westin St. Francis’s ballroom was a sea of shimmering lights and white linens.

Gold and rose accented the soft lighting, radiating a feeling of warmth and tranquility.

It was designed to make people feel comfortable. To open their checkbooks and donate to a worthy cause. But I felt anything but comfortable as I stood with a churning gut, scanning the room for Alex Burton.

The moment we walked into the room, Ryland had a bulls-eye on his forehead. Men and women were constantly swarming him, seizing the opportunity to shake hands and talk business if only for a mere moment.

The lucky ones got a photo with him, which I knew would do wonders for their own business relationships.

He worked the room well, introducing me to everybody that crossed our path with pride in his eyes. I smiled and laughed when appropriate, but I felt like I was going to faint at any second.

I spotted Nicole across the room and gestured to her.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I told Ryland. “I’ll be right back.”

He gave his nod of approval when Nicole came to escort me before he let me slip away. I barely managed to make it into the privacy of the luxurious powder room before I started to have a full blown panic attack.

“Why did I ever agree to dance with Alex Burton?” I whined.

“Ryland’s going to freak out. I just know it.”

“It’s okay, Brighton.” Nicole waved it off like I was being silly. “It’s just one dance. It doesn’t mean anything."

“I know,” I protested. “But I have a bad feeling about this. Why did Alex want to dance with me? He could have just talked to Ryland and gotten a photograph. Wouldn’t that have the same effect?”

“They’re old rivals.” She shrugged. “I doubt Ryland would want to be photographed with him.”

I sank against the counter and fanned my face. Nicole didn’t think it was a big deal, but I had a sick feeling about the whole situation. “I should have told him. He’s going to be hurt.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Nicole assured me. “It’s just a dance, Brighton. In public, at a charity gala. Not just any charity, but your charity.

This is what’s expected of you.”

I took a deep breath and let her words sink in. She was right, of course. This was something I would have to do as part of these events. Just like Ryland had to attend dinners and functions he didn’t always want to. It was just business. Right?

“Okay,” I relented. “Freak out is over. We can go back out.”

Nicole smiled and pulled me back out into the sea of people. We didn’t make it very far before a familiar voice stopped us.

“How about that dance now?” Alex asked.

I spun around and found him standing with such an arrogant smile it made me wince. His face gave nothing but charm and sophistication away, but there was just something about this guy that set off all the warning bells inside my head. A deal was a deal though. I told him I was going to dance

with him, and I would. Three minutes of my life. That’s all I would give him and nothing more.

“Okay,” I said weakly.

Nicole released me and gave me a reassuring smile, watching as he led me onto the dance floor. He took up the perfect gentleman’s stance and led without an ounce of discomfort, which helped me to relax a little.

“Ryland seems very happy to have you on his arm this evening,” he remarked.

I wasn’t going to discuss anything to do with Ryland, so I made a point to let him know it. “How are you enjoying the gala so far?”

He smirked as though he were amused I had the guts to stand up to him. “It’s as I expected.” He gave a flippant shrug. “No offense, Miss Valentine, but these things are all the same to me. A couple hours of dreadful music and a dinner that I’ve paid entirely too much for. But at least there’s alcohol.”

I frowned at his words. Nicole had put so much time and effort into planning this event, and she’d done an amazing job. For him to dismiss it so easily irked me.

“So you’re really just here for a photo,” I clarified.

As I said it, I felt the flash of several cameras going off around us.

Apparently, it was a big deal for him to be dancing with me.

“Yes,” he agreed with a dark smile. “Among other things.”

I was about to ask him what he meant when I glanced up to see Ryland. He wasn’t just angry, but furious as he pulled me into his side. And all of it was directed at Alex Burton.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a scarily calm voice.

“Nice to see you too, Ryland. I was just taking your girlfriend for a spin on the dance floor.” Alex winked at me. “Someone should. A beauty like her was meant to be appreciated.”

The muscle in Ryland’s jaw and his bruising grip on my arm were the only outward signs of his rage. To the cameras around us, I was certain it looked like nothing more than a normal conversation.

“Can you not see the baby in her stomach?” he asked. “Because I fucking put it there.”

The possession in his words told me I’d stepped into something far bigger than just a couple of business rivals. There was obviously some bad

blood between them that went much deeper than I’d realized.

The flash of cameras increased around us, and Alex didn’t miss a beat. He tipped his head back and laughed as though he were having the time of his life.

“No need to go pissing circles around her, old pal,” he said cheerfully. “I think the whole world knows she’s yours. A product of your own doing, from what I understand. You know, I have to say it surprises me. You better than anyone ought to realize how vulnerable that can make you, Ryland.”

Ryland’s cool exterior dissolved as he took a menacing step forward, and I glanced around the room in a panic. Mick caught my eye from across the floor and nodded as he moved to intercede. Ryland was coiled so tight I was afraid Mick wouldn’t make it in time. And to make matters worse, Alex continued to provoke him.

“You know, there’s only so much money you can throw at a problem,” Alex said in a low voice. “At the end of the day, there is still such a thing as honor among thieves. Loyalty will buy you a helluva lot more than money ever can.”

Mick finally pushed his way through the crowd, and just in time. I was clinging so tightly to Ryland’s suit I thought it would rip.

“Get him out of here,” I demanded. “He’s not welcome at this event.”

Mick grabbed Alex by the arm, and he shrugged him off before smoothing down his rumpled tux. “No need for dramatics.” His eyes flashed towards mine with malice. “I’ll be glad to escort myself out.”

Mick followed him, and Ryland shrugged me off as he turned to watch. I wanted to ask him what that was about. I wanted to ask him if I was imagining things when I heard the threat in Alex’s words. Was he threatening me and the baby? I didn’t understand.

Matt and Nicole appeared at my side, and I moved to take a step towards Ryland. He held up his hand with a dark look in his eye. Exactly the one I was afraid of. He thought I’d betrayed him.

“Not now, Brighton.”

He glanced towards Matt. “Don’t leave her side for the rest of the night.”

And with that, he stalked from the room.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Brighton The rest of the charity gala passed in a painfully slow haze. I didn’t see Ryland anywhere, and I tried my best not to think about his hurt expression as I mingled with the guests.

The night was even more successful than we’d ever hoped, raking in tons of cash that would balloon Sophia’s Shoes ability to help kids to epic proportions. I should have been elated. Ecstatic. But all I could think about was Ryland and Alex.

As we stepped outside the hotel, Ted was there to greet us. Just as I suspected, he’d already taken Ryland home. Nicole, Matt, and I piled into the backseat of the car, and I wrung my hands in my lap as we drove through the city.

“I’m so sorry, Brighton,” Nicole said sheepishly. “I had no idea that things between them were that bad.”

“Me either,” I admitted. “He’s never even mentioned him to me before.”

“They went to business school together in Chicago,” Nicole explained. “And then they both started up their companies here. But I always thought it was more of a whose is bigger sort of contest if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t think so,” Matt cut in. “That guy gives me a bad feeling. I don’t trust that slimy smile on his face. And I know for a fact the Burton family is involved in some bad shit.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“His father has been accused of racketeering on more than one occasion,” Matt volunteered. “And some of his employees have a bad habit of going missing.”

“Jesus,” I whispered. “I had no idea. Is this in Chicago?”

Matt nodded.

“It kind of sounded like Alex was threatening Ryland,” I said. “Or me. I’m not really sure why, though.”

Matt and Nicole gave each other a worried glance before looking back at me. “I’m sure he was just being belligerent,” Nicole whispered.

But even I could hear the fear in her voice. She didn’t believe it for a second. Alex Burton was a powerful man, and for some reason, he had a bone to pick with Ryland. I would have to ask him about it. But first, I knew I had some groveling to do.

We pulled up at the apartment and Ted escorted us into the elevator.

I said my goodbyes to Matt and Nicole as they got off on their floor and then rode to the top by myself.

When I came into the apartment, it was dark. Ryland was sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand, still wearing his tux.

I toed off my heels and walked towards him slowly like I was approaching a wild animal.

“Don’t, Brighton.” His voice was ice cold. “Just go to bed.”

I didn’t listen. I knelt before him and rubbed my cheek against his thigh as I reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away, but his body was still coiled with explosive tension. I hated that and wanted more than anything to take it all away from him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize…”

“Do you know him?” Ryland asked, his gaze seeking mine in the shadows.

I squeezed his hand in mine so he couldn’t pull away. “I met with him last week,” I admitted. “He said he was interested in the charity. I didn’t realize what kind of man he was.”

Ryland released my hand and knocked back the rest of his drink. He was definitely pissed. Trying for another tactic, I moved my hands up his thighs, stroking over the bulge in his pants.

“Please, Ryland,” I murmured. “I need you. Let’s do what we do.

Let’s forget this.”

“I can’t forget it,” he yelled. “He fucking threatened you. And I don’t trust myself not to be rough with you right now. Go to bed.”

Even as he said the words, I felt him hardening beneath my palm.

He needed this just as much as I did, but he was afraid of hurting me. He would never hurt me, but he didn’t trust himself like I did. He didn’t know himself like I did.

I flicked open the button of his trousers and pulled his shirt away.

He hissed in a breath and reached down to grab my wrist.

“Brighton.” His voice was thick with warning. “I mean it. I’m not in a good place right now.”

I shrugged his hand off mine and reached into his pants to stroke him through his briefs. He was burning hot and hard as steel. When his head fell back against the sofa for a moment, I thought I had him.

Then his hand came down to thread through my hair and tightened painfully.

“You want to make it right?” he asked.

I nodded, my lips parting at the fire in his eyes. God, I missed that fire.

He stood up and dragged me to the dining room table, putting me lewdly on display before he shoved his pants down his hips.

“Open your mouth.”

I did. Reaching under my shoulders, he pulled me down so that my head dangled off the edge of the table. He fisted his cock and rubbed it against my lips, sullying my lipstick the way he liked.

“Suck on it,” he demanded.

I obeyed him in the slavish manner I always did when he spoke to me that way. Grasping him in my fist, I milked out his pre-cum and smeared it across my lips before they parted and accepted him inside. The hitch in his breath and the flare in his eyes told me he liked it, even though he seemed to be at a loss for words himself. He loomed over me, observing with blazing eyes as I drew him in with long, slow pulls. He enjoyed this moment of gentle intimacy before he was rough. I never understood why, but it didn’t matter. I would take Ryland any way I could get him.

His fingers gripped the edge of the table as he leaned forward and closed his eyes. Tension radiated through his every muscle as he struggled to control himself. It wouldn’t be long until he gave up on it completely, and I wanted to push him off that ledge. I drew him deeper, harder, scraping my teeth against the crown of his head.

He rumbled his approval as he shoved the top of my dress down to bare my breasts. They rose and fell with excited breaths as he skimmed each mound with the palm of his hand. My heart escalated to a bombastic rhythm in my chest, my back arching up to accommodate his touch that I so desperately needed. I hated when he deprived me of it.

He was on me then, the darkness inside of him crackling to life as his fingers came to rest on the hollow of my throat. He pushed his hips into my face and cupped the back of my head with his other hand until he was as deep as I could take him. My moans vibrated against him and his eyes darkened in response.

“Are you enjoying this?” he tightened his grip on my hair and tugged. “Do you like to provoke me, Brighton?”

I mumbled around him, unable to answer since my mouth was stuffed full of his cock. I couldn’t help my response. It was hard-wired into my brain to like this now. He’d done that to me. He’d made me enjoy every dirty and rough and depraved thing that he did to me.

“You betrayed my trust tonight.” He pulled out and thrust deeper with a grunt. “And I didn’t fucking like it.”

I reached up and stroked his thigh as my eyes met his. A silent apology. A peace offering. His body remained steadfast, over six feet of pure male towering above me. He’d never looked hotter. Or angrier. But I could see his resolve fading as his eyes roamed over my breasts like he wanted to devour them. And then my face. He massaged my jaw with the pads of his fingers and pushed himself deeper.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded as he yanked my dress up around my waist. “Show me that pussy.”

I obeyed his command without a second thought.

“Who does it belong to?” he asked.

I mumbled my answer around him again. It belonged to him, of course.

“Don’t ever lie to me again.” His fingers gripped my face possessively and held my gaze. “Do you understand?”

I tried to nod at him but his hold was too tight, so I moaned instead.

He hissed in a breath of air and gentled his touch as though he couldn’t help himself.

“Jesus, you look beautiful with my cock shoved down your throat.”

I reached for his hips and pushed him deeper.

Ryland lost it, and the time for talking was done. He held my head steady as he fucked my mouth hard and fast, sounds of agony tearing from his chest as he pawed at my breasts and reached down to stuff his fingers inside of me.

I could have come so easily, but this was about him. About purging his demons, and that’s all I wanted to focus on. I allowed my head to fall slack in his hands and immersed myself in the motions. On the sounds of pleasure and pain that ripped from inside of him. I’d done that. I’d caused that torment.

I vowed then and there that I would never lie to him again, and I meant it.

As though he could feel my silent promise, his face twisted in agony and his lips parted when he flooded my mouth with his release. I was enrapt by the sight of him from this angle, and I knew there wasn’t anything more beautiful than the sight of Ryland coming undone. His body sagged against me as the tension dissolved from his muscles, and just like that, my gentle lover was back.

I dragged in a breath of air when he pulled himself from my mouth and leaned down to kiss my face. He carried me back to the sofa and nestled me in his arms, tracing circles over my back. For a long time, we just sat there in silence, Ryland catching his breath as I listened to his heartbeat against my cheek.

After his breathing had calmed, I worked to unbutton his dress shirt, pulling it aside so I could feel his skin against mine. I coveted that feeling.

That warmth and bliss only he could provide. I needed it more than anything right then.

“I hated seeing you with him,” Ryland admitted. “You don’t know him, or the things he’s capable of, and he took advantage of that, Brighton. I fucking hated it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I stroked his face. “I will always tell you from now on. I promise.”

“I know you will, baby girl.” He kissed me softly. “But you can’t have anything to do with him. Ever. Not even for the charity.”

I nodded in agreement because I was certain I wanted nothing more to do with that man, anyway. “All of that stuff he was talking about, the thieves and loyalty. What did he mean by it?”

Ryland tensed at my question and buried his face in my neck. “I’m not sure, but I don’t want you to worry about it. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.”

That was one thing that still hadn’t changed between us. Ryland wanted complete honesty from me, and yet he couldn’t seem to abide by it

himself. I was too tired to argue with him about it, so I just let him hold and comfort me instead. But I could see the storm clouds rolling around in his eyes, and I didn’t want that. He was going back to that dark place in his mind, and we’d had enough darkness in our lives. I only wanted to live in the light from now on.

So I reached down between us and stroked him while I kissed his throat.

“Take me to bed,” I pleaded.

He smiled down at me indulgently and then gave me a brutal kiss.

“Okay, baby girl.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brighton Over the next few weeks, Nicole and I worked on expanding the foundation’s programs to benefit multiple age groups. I was five and a half months pregnant and growing bigger every day. Ryland still worked a lot, but he said he was restructuring things within the company so it wouldn’t be this way forever. Whatever he was doing, he’d seemed more stressed than usual.

I knew Alex Burton was still on his mind, but other than to say he was looking into it, he’d been pretty tight lipped about the whole situation.

It was Ryland’s way of feeling like he was protecting me, so I didn’t fight him on it.

Other than the time Nicole and I were shopping, I hadn’t seen the guy in the fancy suit following me again. I figured it must have been a fluke and washed my hands of it. Mick went everywhere I did, and I was coming to know him well. He really was just a giant teddy bear, all rough on the outside and soft on the inside. Still, I had no doubts he could do some damage if someone ever did try to hurt me. I grew to like his presence despite the fact that he’d pushed our car off the highway on a night not too long ago.

At one point, he apologized for it, saying that if he’d known I was in the car, it would have never happened. Of course, that didn’t make me feel any better about Brayden, but it was clear by Mick’s expression where he stood on him.

I still hadn’t heard from him either, and it was making me anxious. I didn’t know what he was up to back in Chicago, but I worried it wasn’t good.

Norma and I visited once a week, and she seemed to be doing well too. She was still in the rehab facility, even though she’d already been there for a long time. Her counselors said that in her situation, the longer she stayed, the better chance she had of making it sober in the real world. And

since Ryland could afford it, he had no qualms whatsoever about indulging this.

He’d even made an effort to visit her with me, and I was over the moon with happiness every time he did. I knew it wasn’t easy for him. The longer we were together, the more I understood why. To him, a mother would do anything to protect her children. He had a hard time understanding where Norma was coming from since his mother wasn’t anything like her. But even so, he seemed to be warming up to her surly personality.

And besides, seeing the two of them attempt to find some common ground during a conversation was quite entertaining for me. They were worlds apart, but they made it work. For me.

Even though there were still some very real concerns in the back of my mind, everything was going well. I only hoped it would last. *** I woke to Ryland’s lips on my throat.

He kissed soft trails up to my jaw while his hands deftly roamed my naked body. A glance at the clock confirmed he was very late for work.

“Don’t you have to go?” I pouted.

“Not today,” he answered. “I took the week off.”

“You did?”

He hummed his answer against my skin before finding his way to my lips.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he murmured.

“Where?” I arched into him, already drunk off his touch.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he replied. “Where would you like to go?”

“You mean like… away from California?”

“Yes.” He gripped my chin and captured my gaze with his. “I want to spend some time away with you.”

I smiled and ran my hands through his dark hair. I hoped our son looked like him.

“Love that smile, baby.” He dragged his thumb across my lips, and they parted for him the way they always did.

I sucked him into my mouth, teasing the pad of his thumb with my tongue. Ryland rumbled and closed his eyes, his hips already working against mine.

He was so hard I expected him to push straight inside of me. But instead, he kissed his way down to my breasts. They were swollen and sensitive, and when he sucked my nipple into his mouth, I was already close to coming undone. His fingers found their way between us, and I rode his hand impatiently before he even had a chance to get started.

“Frisky this morning?” he smirked.

“It’s the hormones.” I tugged on his hair and shoved my breast back into his mouth where it belonged. “Oh, God.” “Fuck, Brighton,” he murmured between mouthfuls. “I could suck on these all day.”

I would gladly let him. Lately, the slightest touches from him would set me off. But he’d been so busy with work it was hard to find the time to connect like this as often as I wanted. When I had to go without for a couple of nights during the week, I felt like a fiend by the time I finally got it.

The proof was in our current romp. I arched into his hand, eager and desperate for my release. I needed it so badly. Only Ryland could give it to me. It was never like this by myself, and I was damn certain it would have never been like this with anyone else.

“I know.” Ryland paused to kiss his way down my belly, and I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Did I say that out loud?

“You know what?”

“It was never like this with anyone else,” he replied, cupping my belly with his hands.

The thought of him with someone else felt like a knife in my heart. I wasn’t naïve. I knew he had others before he met me. He was thirty years old. Of course, there were others. Probably a lot. But it’s something we never talked about. Now the orgasm that had been so close seemed like a distant afterthought.

Ryland had my legs spread wide, his eyes feasting on the most vulnerable part of me. He looked like he was about to dive in, but I couldn’t let him.

“How many others were there?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

He stared up at me in disbelief. “You want to talk about this now?”

“Yes.” I clamped my jaw shut.

He shook his head. “Brighton, that’s not a good idea.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” My lip wobbled, and I was fully aware I’d boarded the crazy train as I got jealous over his past. This was definitely the hormones talking, but the fact he didn’t want to tell me made me think it was really bad. Like hundreds of other women had probably had him before me. I couldn’t stand the thought.

“Were you with anyone else while we were apart?” I accused.

“Baby, are you crazy?” he gave me his signature arrogant smile. The same smile that had probably melted panties off of countless virgins before me.

“Yes, I’m crazy!” I snapped. “I’m carrying your child, and it’s making me crazy. That’s part of the package, Ryland, so deal with it. Now give me an answer.”

The tears welled up in my eyes, and all humor faded from his face as he crawled up between my legs and captured my face in his hands.

“Brighton, it was all over for me the minute I saw you on that porch six years ago. Since you came into my life ten months ago, I have not been with another. Nor do I want to.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” I protested.

“You really want a number?”

“You know mine,” I told him. “How is it fair that you get to know mine, but I don’t know yours?”

Another grin broke out over his face, and I glared.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He smothered down his amusement. “But in all fairness, you’ve only been with me. So it’s pretty much a given that I would know your number.”

As soon as he said the words, his eyes clouded over, and he looked like he was considering something else. “Unless there’s something else you need to tell me.”

“Don’t get all broody and possessive of me now.” I shoved against his chest. “Especially when you don’t give me the same courtesy.”

“I’m not fucking around, Brighton,” he snarled. “Have you been with anyone else?”

I smiled up at him in return. “Tit for tat, Ryland.”

He looked like he wanted to belt the shit out of me. I was sure if I wasn’t pregnant, he probably would have.

“You know what I’m thinking.” He leaned closer and fenced me in with his arms. “Your ass would be so sore tomorrow if you weren’t carrying my baby right now.”

I smoothed my palms up and down his biceps and watched the frustration dissipate from his eyes. It surprised me how quickly it had gone.

“You can spank me,” I offered. “If it makes you feel better. I don’t care, so long as I get a number.”

“I’m not spanking you because you like it too much.”

I frowned at his words. “You’ve hardly even marked me since you’ve been back inside of me. Don’t you want the world to know I belong to you anymore?”

“What’s gotten into you?” he rocked back onto his heels and sighed.

“I told you,” I whined. “I’m cranky.”

He moved up beside me, patting the space next to him. “Come here, cranky girl.”

I went, of course. The way I always did. He kissed my forehead and stroked my hair, my face pressed against his heart.

“Before I tell you this, I need you to promise me you aren’t going to get upset, Brighton. I don’t need to lose any more time with you over something that’s in the past.”

“I won’t.” It was a complete bullshit lie. Of course, I was going to get upset.

“There were five others before you,” he admitted.

His grip on me tightened, and I released a breath. “That’s it?”

He stared down at me in surprise. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I thought it was going to be so much worse. Were any of them serious?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “Never. They were just a couple of girls in college and then after that it was no strings attached sort of agreements.”

“Oh.” He rolled me onto my back and positioned himself between my legs again. “Don’t deny me what’s mine, Brighton.”

“Okay.”

He groaned and rubbed his cock against my arousal, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed inside. And then he paused. I wiggled my hips but to no avail. He wasn’t moving.

“Jesus,” he rasped. “You feel so fucking good, baby. Just give me a minute. You’ve got me all worked up here.”

I grinned and wiggled my hips some more. My jealousy always got him worked up for some reason. He liked it when I was possessive of him too.

He started to move, bracing himself on his forearms as he brought his forehead to mine. He kissed me soft and tenderly before twining our fingers together. Our eyes locked, and then I shattered around him. It was the most intimate moment we’d ever shared.

Ryland pumped a couple more times before he swelled inside of me, filling me with his warmth. “I fucking love you,” he choked out.

I brought my hand to his face and smiled. “I fucking love you too.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brighton I stared at the bungalow before me in a state of awe and disbelief. It had a thatched roof and was completely ensconced by palms and lush greenery. But it was the white sand and ocean view behind that really had me at a loss for words. The aquamarine water lapped against the shore no more than fifty feet from where we stood. It was peaceful and serene, and completely surreal.

“This is amazing,” I squeaked.

“You like it?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” I stood up on my tiptoes and pulled his mouth to mine. “I can’t believe that places like this even exist.”

He smiled and threaded his fingers through mine before tugging me inside. Since I hadn’t been able to decide on a location for our ‘getaway’, he’d picked it out for us. One week on Little Palm island in the Florida Keys sounded like the stuff dreams were made of.

Inside, the suite was decked out like a luxurious island hut. Bamboo shutters filled the rooms with an abundance of natural light, and I could smell the sea breeze filtering through every inch of the place. It was cleansing. Peaceful. Romantic. And it felt like a fresh start for us. It was so unlike Ryland, but seeing me happy made him happy. And right then and there, I made it my ultimate goal to get him to relax completely on this trip with me.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

He hauled me towards the bedroom without any more preamble, and I laughed at his impatience. The room was romantic with a mosquito net draped from the ceiling and fluffy white linens piled high over the bed. A bottle of chilled champagne sat tucked off to the side, and I pouted when I

realized I couldn’t have any of it. That thought disappeared when Ryland started to grope me in earnest.

“I need to be inside of you,” he murmured. “It’s been too long.”

“You were just inside of me this morning,” I retorted.

And yet I agreed with him. It had been too long. He pulled my dress up over my head and discarded it on the floor before kneeling down in front of me. His hands inched up the back of my thighs and gripped my ass, squeezing before he lifted me up onto the bed.

Next came my sandals, followed by him massaging my instep as he went.

“You can do that all day,” I encouraged.

“You like that?” he asked. “What about this?”

He kissed the bottom of my foot, and I tried to wiggle it away from him. “Ryland.”

He kissed it again with a smirk and then proceeded to do the same all the way up my calf. When he reached my thighs, he nudged them apart and pulled me to the edge of the bed at the same time. My panties were directly in front of his face, and they were already sticking to my skin. Two seconds of him touching me and I was a panting, writhing mess.

He leaned forward and rubbed his nose along the cloth, inhaling deeply. I didn’t get embarrassed anymore when he did that. Now I savored these moments. The moments when he flagrantly indulged in his sordid whims and enjoyed every second of it. He took it to another level when he ran his tongue along the material and then sucked it into his mouth.

“You taste so good,” he grunted. “It’s been too long since I’ve had this.”

“I know,” I whined.

Since my hormones had interrupted him this morning, I’d missed out. I had no intention of allowing that to happen twice, so I reached for his hair and pulled him closer. I needed his mouth on me, and I said as much. It drove him crazy.

My panties disappeared down my legs, and soon he was spreading me apart with his fingers. His tongue slid inside of me, and I jerked against him. I wasn’t going to last. At all. Knowing how sensitive my breasts were, Ryland further sped up the process when he reached up to fondle them.

“Oh, God.” It came without warning, fast and hard, tearing through me and leaving me dizzy and gasping for air.

“You’re making my job exceptionally easy these days,” Ryland remarked as he stood and undressed.

I watched with heavy eyes and felt my arousal stirring again already.

“Not really, because I think I’m going to be insatiable this week. You’ll probably need a vacation from this vacation by the time we’re through.”

“Don’t provoke me, Brighton.” He lowered himself between my legs. “I have every intention of giving you a very thorough fucking every day that we spend here.”

“Ever the incurable romantic,” I teased.

He pushed into me and dragged his teeth along my throat at the same time. “Do you want romance, Brighton?” he murmured.

It sounded like a genuine question, but I didn’t have time to analyze.

My baser desires were taking over, and he was still entirely too gentle with me. I sank my nails into his back, and he made a noise of approval.

“I want you to mark me,” I declared.

He gripped my chin between his fingers and glared. “Remember who you’re talking to.”

His eyes had that look in them. The one that told me Ryland was about to take charge and totally rock my world. Or so I thought.

He started to move, in much too gentlemanly of a fashion, and it frustrated the hell out of me. The further along I got, the more he restrained himself. I understood his fears, but my doctor assured me it was fine.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” I coaxed.

“Brighton.” His voice was thick with warning.

I smiled and pulled his mouth to mine, whispering against his lips.

“Please, Ryland. I need you. This is what we do- what we’ve always done.”

My words seemed to melt some of his resolve, and I was glad for it.

He kissed his way down my jaw and into the valley between my throat and collar bone. And then he sank his teeth into me with a groan.

He’d missed it too.

I tugged on his hair and panted against him, urging my hips upward to meet his thrusts. They were getting faster, harder, and I was so fucking happy I could scream. When my orgasm swept through me, I did.

My contractions set Ryland off inside of me, and soon he was collapsing beside me with a groan. He pulled me into his arms and spread my hair across his chest before he started stroking my back. His heart

stuttered beneath my cheek, and I smiled up at him when mine followed suit. We were in sync again, and I felt like nothing could tear us apart. *** I fluttered my eyes open and let the sun wash over me as the hammock swayed gently in the breeze. This truly was paradise. Ryland lay beside me, reading from one of the baby books he’d brought with him. I thought it was adorable how much he was studying up on this. At least one of us would be prepared.

“We’ll have to start thinking of some names soon,” I told him.

He blinked up at me, and there was something weird in his expression that told me he’d already been thinking about this. But I wanted to run my idea by him first. The problem was, it could either go very well or very badly.

“I have one in mind,” I volunteered. “If you’d like to hear it.”

He shut the book and gave me his full attention. “You do?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged and started drawing circles on his chest with my finger. He looked like he belonged on this island year round with his skin. I was jealous.

“Well?” he grabbed my fingers and pulled them to his lips, kissing them one by one. “What is it?”

He was being so sweet. I really didn’t want to ruin this moment. But I also really wanted to have this name on the table. I closed my eyes when I said it so I didn’t have to see his reaction. I couldn’t bear it if I hurt him.

“I was thinking maybe Jacob Jackson Lockhart.”

I felt him tense against me, and there was a long pause of silence. I still couldn’t open my eyes. I was too chicken.

“Brighton,” he spoke gently. “Look at me.”

I did. And I was relieved to find his eyes weren’t nearly as cloudy as I expected them to be. In fact, there was something else there. Something that looked kind of like a small glimmer of hope.

“I like it,” he said.

“You do?”

“Yes.” He kissed me on the temple. “It’s just like you to think of something like that.”

I curled against him and smiled. That went way easier than I expected. Things really were different between us.

“I just have one concession,” he added.

I frowned, thinking maybe I’d spoken too quickly. “What is it?”

“The last name- it’s dead to me for a reason. I’ll never be Jacob Lockhart again, and our baby can’t be associated with that name either.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because…” He ran an anxious hand through his hair. “There are still people out there who could use that against me. When my father’s business started to tank, he made some bad decisions. I still don’t know the extent of them, and I’d rather not ever find out.”

“Oh.” It made sense, what he was saying. But it also worried me. “So, would we ever be in danger?”

“No,” he said adamantly. “But I can never be too careful, and I wouldn’t ever take any chances with you, Brighton. I will always do whatever it takes to protect you, you know that right?”

I did know that. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ryland would protect me no matter what. And it only made me love him more. “I know.” I nodded.

“You are the most important thing in my life, and soon there’ll be another. We’re going to be a family.”

His words socked me in the gut and brought tears to my eyes. I knew how much that word meant to him. And if I didn’t, I could see it clearly on his face. This was his second chance at life. And I would do everything in my power to bring Ryland Bennett happiness. We both settled back against the hammock, and silence engulfed us. It was the good kind.

The comfortable kind. I was listening to his heartbeat, drifting off to sleep when his fingers trailed over my cheek and turned my face towards him.

“Do you like it here?” he asked.

“Of course I do.” I smiled up at him. “This place is amazing, Ryland. I could stay here forever with you.”

My words seemed to fill him with relief. But then he looked nervous again as he reached into his pocket.

“Brighton, we’re having a baby together. I can’t tell you how fucking incredible that is. I never thought I would want these things, but I do. I want them with you.”

I reached up and stroked his cheek. He looked so passionate about what he was saying I just wanted to tear his shorts off and bury him inside of me again.

“There isn’t anyone else I would want it with either,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. “Because I have something else to say.”

He paused for a moment and blew out a breath. I’d never seen Ryland look so nervous, and it was freaking me out a little.

“I want you to be my wife.”

I was dumbfounded, and even more so when he pulled a velvet box from out of nowhere. He held it towards me with the strong fingers I had come to love, and I realized what was happening. I felt dizzy, and I had to sit up. He followed with an anxious expression. I still hadn’t touched the box. I couldn’t seem to get my body or brain to cooperate.

“Brighton?”

“Are you… proposing to me?” I squeaked.

It was his turn to look dumbfounded. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

“There wasn’t really a question in that statement,” I remarked. It was such a Ryland proposal. I wouldn’t have expected anything different from him, nor would I have wanted it.

He looked at a loss for words, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him struggling with what to say. I put him out of his misery by biting my lip and nodding. “Yes, Ryland. I’ll be your wife.”

“Jesus,” he cursed in relief. “I really thought you were going to say no for a minute. Goddammit, Brighton, I love you so fucking much.”

I laughed when he pulled me across his lap and started peppering me with kisses. He was like a little boy on Christmas morning, and I felt exactly the same way. My heart was going to burst with happiness. He pulled out the box and opened it, taking my breath away when I saw the blood-red stone nestled within. It was cushion cut and ensconced in black gold, and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, apart from him.

“Oh my God, Ryland.”

“It’s a red diamond,” he said. “A little bit of darkness for your light.”

“Do I even want to know how much this thing cost?”

“No.” He grinned and slid it onto my finger with a heated flare of possession in his eyes.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine, kissing him deeply. I couldn’t believe this man was going to be my husband. It didn’t even seem real.

Ryland was hard against me, and I didn’t waste any time reaching down to free his erection while he untied my bikini and tossed it aside.

Thank God he’d booked the only suite with private beach access because I didn’t think I’d be able to wait another moment to have him inside of me.

I slid down onto him at the same time my eyes locked onto his. I was never going to get tired of this moment. The deep intimacy I felt when we connected in this way, and he looked at me with that sense of pride and ownership. Some women might be disgusted by it. But I was, and always would be, irrevocably his.

I reached for his face and showered him with kisses. “I love you, Ryland Bennett.” And then with a grin, I added, “so fucking much.” *** Ryland frowned when he poked his head out onto the back deck and saw me soaking my feet in the hot tub.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Relaxing.” I laughed.

He didn’t seem amused. “You’re not supposed to be in the hot tub.”

“I’m not,” I rebutted. “It’s just my feet. As long as I’m not submerged…”

“I still don’t like it.” He walked over and reached for my hands to help me up. “Let’s not take any chances, okay?”

This was Ryland’s overprotective nature showing again. God help our poor child. Still, I smiled. Because I knew he was doing these things out of love. I stood up and let him lead me back into the bedroom.

“I have something else to talk to you about anyway,” he said.

“What is it?” I asked.

He helped me onto the bed and then grabbed a towel, drying my feet for me as he spoke.

“I don’t want to wait,” he said. “But I know you might have something else in mind, so I’d like to talk to you about the wedding.”

“Oh.”

The wedding. I hadn’t even thought about it. It was something most little girls dreamed about their entire life. But I didn’t have a lot of people to invite to a wedding, and the only part I cared about was that I got to pledge my love to Ryland forever.

“Do you want a big wedding?” he asked. “With the dress and cake and flowers. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get, Brighton.”

He started to massage my feet, and I found it difficult to articulate what I wanted. All I knew was I didn’t want him to stop doing that.

“I don’t need any of those things,” I said. “I just want you.”

His eyes filled with relief, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling me across his lap, kissing the hell out of me.

“I’m crazy in love with you,” he murmured.

I threaded my fingers through his as he kissed his way down my throat, licking the red mark he’d left on me the night before. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was glad I’d pushed him to do it.

“I was thinking we could have it here,” he said. “On the beach.”

“Here?” I blinked. “Like this week?”

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

Geez, he really wasn’t wasting any time. I kind of loved that. The idea that he wanted to make me his as soon as possible.

“That would be really nice,” I agreed.

But then something occurred to me, something I hadn’t thought of before.

“Nicole would probably be really hurt though when she finds out.”

“I’ll fly her down here,” Ryland said. “Matt too.”

And just like that, he made my worries disappear. “Let’s do it.” I grinned. “Let’s get married here. This week. Oh my God.” I wiggled around in his lap, and he smiled. “I’ll always give you what you want, baby girl.”

Chapter Thirty

Brighton The rest of the week moved crazy fast once we started planning.

Ryland took over all the important stuff, but I spent an entire day searching online for a dress. Easier said than done with the island’s spotty Wi-Fi. I had it overnighted to Nicole, and she would be bringing it with her when they arrived on Friday. It was simple and beachy, and exactly what I wanted to say I do in.

I told Ryland I wanted him to wear a white dress shirt and gray slacks. It was what he was most comfortable in, and I knew he’d look amazing. He didn’t need fancy suits to look good, he was always the smartest dressed man in the room no matter what he wore.

Even just thinking about our wedding night made me ache between my thighs. Either that or it was the residual effects of the crazy animal sex we’d been having all week. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was insatiable, and Ryland actually looked exhausted.

I grinned as I watched him doze off in the hammock, the sun shining down on his bare chest. He looked so handsome I wanted to go curl up beside him, but I knew we wouldn’t get any sleeping done. And he needed a nap. Whatever he was planning had taken up a lot of his time this morning, and I pouted the entire time he was on the phone.

Regardless, I knew it would all be worth it when I became Mrs. Ryland Bennett at the end of the week. It was still surreal. This thing that had started with so much darkness was now filled with light, and I had to wonder if it could last. I hated feeling that way. Like something might come and snatch it away at any moment. I needed to put those thoughts out of my head. I needed to leave the past behind. ***

“Brighton, you look so beautiful,” Nicole gushed. “I love that dress.”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror with a nervous smile. My dress was chiffon and ivory lace with a sweetheart neckline, and it hit just above my knees. It was perfect, and I couldn’t be happier with it.

“Will you do my hair?” I asked Nicole. “I have no clue what to do with it.”

“Of course.” She ushered me to a chair and helped me sit down.

“We have to do something with soft, natural waves. It’s perfect for a beach wedding.”

She set to work, talking over the bobby pins in her mouth. “I still can’t believe this is real,” she said. “Can you believe how far you and Ryland have come?”

“I know.” I smiled. “It’s kind of crazy.”

We went from him blackmailing me and wanting my family dead to being crazy in love. It wouldn’t make sense to most people, but I didn’t care. He was my soul mate. He was my everything, and I wouldn’t change a minute of what had happened between us because it brought us to where we were.

“Has he come back yet?” I asked. He’d been gone all morning, and I was worried that something would happen. I was starting to become just like him.

“Dear God, there’s two of you,” Nicole teased. “He’s fine, Brighton.

He checked in with me an hour ago and said he was on his way back. He should be here any minute.”

Almost as if on cue, a knock sounded on the bedroom door, and I glanced around in panic. “He can’t see me yet.”

“Don’t worry.” Nicole grinned as she walked towards the door. “I wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

She opened the door, and my mouth fell open when I saw who was standing on the other side.

“Norma?”

“Surprise!” she threw her hands up in the air.

I was a little shocked when she ran over and hugged me like her life depended on it. We were still trying to figure out how this whole being sober relationship worked between us. There were tears in her eyes when she pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “My God, Brighton, you look

so beautiful. That boy won’t know what hit him when he sees you walking down the aisle.”

“I can’t believe you came,” I stammered.

Great, now my eyes were filling with tears too. The littlest things set me off these days.

“Ryland arranged it,” she said. “He wanted you to have your family here.”

Although she didn’t mean to, her words brought a dark cloud into the room. I swallowed and looked away. Because even though Norma was there, Brayden wasn’t. And that hurt.

“He invited Brayden too,” Nicole said softly. “Just so you know.”

“He did?”

I was full on crying now. I just gave into it.

“Yes,” Norma answered for her. “I tried to talk him into coming too.

I’m sorry, Brighton, but you know he’s stubborn as hell.”

“I know.” I nodded.

It was for the best he wasn’t going to be here if that was his attitude.

I didn’t need anyone trying to ruin our special day. But I still couldn’t believe Ryland had extended the olive branch. I was shocked, and it only made me want to marry him more.

Norma reached out and handed me a little blue box. “Ryland wanted me to give you this.”

“What is it?”

“Well, open it and see.” She grinned. “I’m guessing it’s some kind of jewelry from the looks of it.”

I reached down and opened the lid to find a white gold necklace with what appeared to be a heart wave. The paper beneath it confirmed it.

“Oh my God.” I clasped a hand over my mouth. “He had this custom made for me. It’s his heart beat.”

“What does the paper say?” Nicole tried to peek over my shoulder.

“It says, keep this close to your heart, Brighton, so we’ll never be out of sync.”

“Wow.” Nicole blubbered. “That is so sweet. And so unlike Ryland.”

“I know.” I choked out a laugh between sobs.

“I think you found yourself a keeper,” Norma butted in.

“I think so too.” I wiped away my tears. “Let’s make me pretty so I can go and marry him.”

Chapter Thirty-One Ryland Had you asked me six years ago if I’d ever seen myself in this position, I would’ve laughed you right out of the frigging building.

Me? Getting married.

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

I had one thing on my mind then, and that was revenge. How sweet it would taste, how good it’d feel. I didn’t want any distractions.

But when I took Brighton Valentine for the first time, I completely underestimated how sweet she’d taste. How good she’d feel. Or how she would crawl so deep under my skin I’d never see straight again.

She ruined me. No doubt about it.

And yet, when I caught sight of her walking down the aisle towards me- a vision in white- I was prepared to fork over heart and soul. She could have what was left of them, until death parted us because for me there was no other option. If I could’ve included an agreement that stipulated she wasn’t allowed to give them back, I would have. But we all know how the last agreement ended between us.

Still. She was mine, always would be.

I practiced breathing, which I’d briefly forgotten, as my eyes roamed over my bride. Her hair had been kissed by the sun during our time here. A mixture of strawberry and gold, it fell over her shoulder in soft waves. All I could think about was running my hands through it and mussing it up. She gave me a nervous smile. The one she usually wore when she was on her knees for me, doing my bidding. My cock jumped in excitement, and I had to tell him to settle down. This was not the time or place.

I couldn’t believe this little sweet was going to be all mine. After everything, she’d still have me. She maintained her stance that we were cut from the same cloth. Insisted she harbored just as much darkness as I did.

She was wrong.

Brighton was all light. Everything pure and good and untainted, and I got high on her every time I tasted that nectar. How could I have ever thought I’d tire of her? That I could give her up when it was all over?

I was a fool.

She reached the end of the aisle and stood beside me. She’d never looked more beautiful than when she came to me willingly. Her eyes were bright and big and so alive it sent all the blood to my southerly regions.

There was little choice but to lean in and steal a kiss. The officiant made a disapproving noise, and I kissed her harder. He could fuck right off.

“Ryland.” Brighton giggled against my lips before she pulled away.

Her cheeks were tinted pink with embarrassment.

Oh, how I loved that.

The officiant did his spiel, and I heard not a lick of it. My eyes were zeroed in on my girl, impatiently awaiting that pivotal moment. In the interim, I found myself eye-fucking her and looking for tells. Did she really want to do this? Was she going to run screaming at any moment?

There weren’t any big red flags, but the fear was still there, regardless. It would be until the man said those words I desperately needed to hear. Upon further observation, Brighton appeared light and happy.

Relaxed. Feet firmly planted in place. I was the luckiest prick on the planet if she went through with this.

She hadn’t made a big production of it, which I was quietly grateful for. I would’ve given her whatever she wanted, be it gold confetti or horsedrawn carriages. But frankly, I wanted to get it over with, so we could spend the rest of our life together. Also of equal importance- commencing the honeymoon.

The word flooded my mind with images. No need to get into the nitty gritty here, but I’ll tell you they were good. The fact I’d been inside of her incessantly over the last week did little to quell the burning in my gut.

This island had done her good. Pregnancy glow in full swing, she was more radiant than I even deemed myself worthy of. That was a given, of course.

She’d chosen an ivory lace dress. How fitting. My sly little fox knew how much I loved the color on her. On point, her lashes fluttered as a mischievous smile lit up her face. I wondered if she had any notion what was bouncing around my brain. Perhaps she had her own dirty little thoughts. I had corrupted her after all.

“Ryland.” Her eyes danced with laughter as she nudged me in the side.

Oh, right.

I redirected my attention to the officiant who shot me a chafed look before repeating himself. I recited the words he told me to like a good little minion, unaware of what they even were. It was of little consequence.

There were no words somebody else could write that’d ever pronounce my love for Brighton. My promises to her.

Left to my own devices, I’d voice in no uncertain terms the debauchery we’d be getting up to for the rest of our lives. How she’d be swollen with my children again and again until she forbade me from doing so. There could’ve been gallant paragraphs uttered about how I’d forfeit my life before ever allowing her harm. How I’d never stray or break a promise to her again. Lastly, I most certainly wouldn’t touch a single hair on her brother’s cuntish head. But I knew Brighton would want the carefully constructed words in front of our friends. The supplementary vows could be whispered later when I was deep inside of her.

We got to the part with the rings, and I grinned when panic flashed across her face. She stared down at the little white pillow with parted lips, only now realizing there wasn’t one for me. I milked it out a few seconds longer than necessary, so my evil counterpart could watch her blush again.

Hard as a rock in my trousers, I pompously displayed my hand. The warmth of her fingers traced over the fresh tattoo and tears welled in her eyes.

“My heartbeat?” she squeaked.

I nodded and squeezed her hands in mine.

“Oh, God,” she blubbered to the officiant. “I’m going to lose it, so you better wrap this up.”

He smiled and said the words I never thought I’d hear. We were now husband and wife.

“I love you.” I smashed my lips against hers and tasted the salt of her tears. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Ryland. More than anything.”

Fuck, yeah. No take backs, Brighton. I’m all yours.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Brighton “How long do you think we have to stay and keep mingling?” I asked.

Ryland paused and shot me a worried expression. “Are you getting tired?”

I smiled and shook my head. “No, I was just wondering when I can take my husband back to our room.”

He laughed and continued to hold me in his arms while we moved in time to the music. “Someone’s being greedy. You know how much I like that.”

I glanced at Matt and Nicole as they danced beside us, and I’d never seen her look happier. I hoped that it would last. I hoped that all the bumpiness was behind us now.

Norma danced with Ted, who’d made the journey to Florida as well.

It took me by surprise at first though it probably shouldn’t have. He was the closest thing Ryland had to family. My heart squeezed in my chest when I looked up into his blue eyes. He looked as at peace as I’d ever seen him and I wanted him to stay that way forever.

Almost as if he could sense my train of thought, a dark look passed over his face.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “I’m just… happy, baby girl.”

I nodded and swallowed down my fears. He didn’t have to say anything else because I knew his were the same. He’d told me once that happiness was fleeting, and as much as I didn’t want to believe that, I had to wonder if it was true.

I couldn’t let any of those thoughts have real estate inside of my brain. Ryland and I had a fresh start, and I wanted to put everything else behind us.

“Come on.” He reached down and threaded his fingers through mine. “I think we’ve mingled long enough.” *** “Brighton, tell me what’s wrong.”

Ryland sounded worried, but he had no reason to be. I wrung my hands together and bit my lip to keep my voice from shaking. “It’s nothing.

I’ll be out in just a minute."

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering for the hundredth time if this was ridiculous. I’d never worn lingerie in my life. Well, not like this anyway.

The sheer white babydoll that looked great in the photos online only served to flaunt my growing belly, and I wondered if Ryland would even find it remotely sexy. The larger I got, the more I started to worry that at some point he would stop finding me sexy at all. I knew it was a ridiculous train of thought. I was growing a human, and my body had to change to accommodate that. But whether it was logical or not, those fears were still there.

“Brighton,” Ryland’s voice carried from the other side of the door.

“If there’s something wrong, just tell me.”

I took a deep breath and twisted the knob.

His eyes met mine and then trailed down my body. I realized it was silly of me to worry because right away I saw the hunger he couldn’t hide.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He gripped my hips in his hands and tugged me closer. My belly bumped into his, and I laughed.

“I was nervous,” I admitted.

“Why, baby?”

His hands smoothed up my sides and then dipped beneath the silk cups to play with my breasts. I could hardly think when he did that.

“I just didn’t know if you would like it,” I said. “Because I’m getting bigger, and I feel weird about it.”

“Brighton.” He burrowed into my neck and wrapped his hands around my waist to squeeze my ass. “You’re having my baby. You couldn’t be any sexier if you tried. You’re supposed to get bigger. I want you to get bigger. I want you healthy and happy. I’ll never stop thinking you’re beautiful, you only grow more so every day.”

I reached up on my toes and pulled his lips to mine, kissing him softly. “Thank you, Ryland. For everything that you’ve done this week. For today. I can’t believe you’re my husband.”

“Say it again,” he pleaded.

“My husband,” I whispered, clasping his face in my hands. “My gorgeous husband.”

“I want you to say that every time I make you come tonight,” he ordered.

He was so serious as he said it I couldn’t help but smile and nod. Of course, I would give in to him. I always did.

“Take me to bed now,” I begged.

“Married five minutes and already acting like the boss,” he smirked.

I shoved him in the chest and pushed him back against the bed.

“Take your clothes off.”

This time he didn’t hesitate to do my bidding. His eyes roamed over me as I positioned myself on the bed and watched him unbutton his dress shirt and kick off his pants. He was perfectly comfortable in his nakedness when he prowled towards me. But then again, he had a reason to be. He was perfect.

He started at my feet, massaging them the way he often did now.

And then he pulled them both up to kiss each instep. This was a new kink of his I was starting to see a lot of lately, but I didn’t mind since I’d just taken a shower this time. I wiggled my toes, and he sucked them into his mouth, teasing them as he watched me. Already I was soaking wet and ready for him, but that wasn’t new. I didn’t think there was much he couldn’t do with his mouth that wouldn’t get me this way.

He kissed his way up my calves and thighs, rubbing his face against the sensitive skin until it turned pink. Even though he’d shaved this morning, he was already sporting some stubble. Since he’d discovered I was pregnant, he was much more careful in the ways he went about marking me. This was one of his new favorites. I didn’t mind at all.

He reached the lacey white thong between my legs and gave it a tug with his teeth. It disintegrated into several scraps of material that he tossed aside without any care. Then his heavy lidded eyes descended as he prodded me with his fingers, spreading me apart for him to see. He blew out a breath, and it tickled me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed his mouth on me.

“Ryland.” I tugged on his hair, but he didn’t budge.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “I’m enjoying this.”

He teased me with one finger, sliding in and out with deliberate slowness. I rocked my pelvis down to greet him, desperate for more. It wasn’t fair that he acted as though he had all the time in the world. I needed him, and I needed him now.

“This is the first time I’m ever going to fuck you as my wife,” he said. “Let me savor it.”

“Fine.” I pouted.

I felt him smile against me, and then his tongue slid right up my center, exactly where I needed him. My hands tightened their grip on his hair, and I bucked against him. He groaned.

Ryland liked it when I was rough with him, but I didn’t even mean to be. It was out of my control. He gripped my hips in his hands and rolled them in circles, helping me to grind down on his face as he lapped at me furiously.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” I whimpered, squeezing the sheets in my fist. “Right there, oh shit!”

The onslaught of convulsions blindsided me with a wave of dizziness that simultaneously stole my breath and left me gasping. I didn’t even have a chance to fulfill his earlier request, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it as he kissed his way up my stomach. When he reached my breasts, he paused his excursion to suck each of them into his mouth.

“You’re getting a very filthy mouth,” he murmured against me.

“I don’t care,” I panted.

He grinned up at me and sat back on his heels, looking deep in thought for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

“Just thinking about how I want to take you,” he said. “I always feel like I’m crushing you now.”

“You’re not.” I reached for his hand and squeezed. “But you could take me from behind if you want.”

He grinned down at me and stood up, pulling my hips towards the edge of the bed. “I could, but I want to look at you,” he said. “I want to see your face the first time I slide inside of you as your husband.”

It was my turn to moan. Those words were definitely the most erotic thing he’d ever said.

He wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed the head of his cock against my arousal.

“You ready?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” I agreed. “Always.”

He sank inside of me and closed his eyes for a brief moment the way he always did when he entered me. I loved that expression, and I knew I would never get enough of it.

“You good?” he asked as he rolled his hips inside of me.

“So good,” I murmured.

He leaned down and kissed me, and there was nothing frenzied about us anymore. It was unhurried and gentle. Ryland wanted to draw it out as long as he could, and I was grateful he had. I never wanted to forget this moment for all of my life.

“I’m going to come inside you, baby,” he declared. “Come inside my fucking wife.”

And with a roar, he did.

Then he leaned down and kissed me with a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Mine.”

Chapter Thirty-Three Ryland Brighton and I had been home for a little over a week. The amount of work on my desk was beyond fucking ridiculous, and I knew I’d be waist deep in it for the next two days. But the moment my email pinged from the PI in Chicago, everything else fell by the wayside. Images of Brayden filled my screen, and every vile and uncouth word I’d ever learned spewed from my mouth.

You might wonder why I hated him so much. Besides the obvioushe’d held a gun to my head and allowed my sister to die mercilessly- the boy was nothing more than a cockroach. Back in my scheming days, Brighton wasn’t the only subject of my research. If you’d ever read the Art of War or any stratagem books for that matter, there was one very important principle you should have reaped. Know your opponent. Simple, really.

Much simpler when you have the resources to fund such ventures and grease a few palms along the way. For my plan to work, I had to be well versed on the inner workings of the entire Gallo circle. Brayden included.

What I’d unraveled about him in my research was nothing short of what I’d expect of Frankie’s son. Calling into question the whole nature versus nurture debacle, it seemed nature had won out in these circumstances. I’d venture a guess that Brighton had been kept in the dark on a few things concerning her brother. It certainly wasn’t my place to tell her. As much as I liked to skew the cards in my favor, I wouldn’t do it that way.

Brayden had a penchant for taking things which didn’t belong to him. After a spate of break-ins and small time robberies in his neighborhood, the police brought him in for questioning at the tender age of ten. It doesn’t take long to conclude what Norma would’ve done in these circumstances. Calling in his absentee father to play the role of bad cop was probably what she had in mind.

She should’ve known Brayden’s proclivities would only do his father proud. Over the years he progressed to other petty crimes. Eventually

even working his way up to wheeling and dealing for Alfredo’s henchmen.

Curiosity had me questioning how exactly Frankie weaseled him into the fold. There was no way he’d ever admit ownership over a Mick. Or at least, he hadn’t, until he’d thrown both his children under the bus in a last ditch effort to save himself.

Either way, Alfredo had never met him directly. No small feat, considering how selective the man was of his crew. But apparently, Frankie had some authority in the matter and grandfathered him in on his word alone. It was a decision that ended up costing him his life and left an ever present countdown on his children’s.

Had I been in Brayden’s shoes, it was difficult to imagine what I would’ve done. To his credit, he’d kept a roof over Brighton’s head for many years when Norma couldn’t possibly. But I couldn’t abide by his decisions to fall in line with his piece of shit father.

This was his second chance. An opportunity to set his head straight and pat himself on the back for lessons learned. But do you think he could manage that?

I’ll give you one craptastic guess.

He’d taken a meeting with Frankie’s wife, which could only mean one thing. He wanted in. She was the only contact he had for Frankie’s boss Alfredo. And he hadn’t a fucking clue of the hive he was about to disrupt.

While Maria Gallo had given a first class performance on playing the grieving widow, in truth she hated Frankie’s guts. She was glad to see him dead and would be equally delighted to see his bastard spawn dead too.

But just like everyone else in this world, she had a price. She was another name on my long list of yearly installments. Her careless indifference on this matter was bought and paid for to the tune of a hundred grand thus far. And while she might have been a money hungry scab, she wasn’t stupid. Maria knew when to keep her mouth shut, and when to talk.

And Brayden tumbling head first into her world would leave her no other choice. No amount of money in the world would salvage her life if Alfredo Zucco found out she’d betrayed him. She hadn’t a clue about our agreement, but even if she had, it wouldn’t stop her from singing like a canary in this instance. It’d been a carefully balanced juggling act to keep all of them content this long. Leave it to Brayden to come in and ignite the fuse.

On my part, there wouldn’t be an ounce of sleep lost when he buried himself in a dumpster. But now his decisions were going to affect Brighton.

My wife.

Which left me fuck all choice.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Brighton Something was up with Ryland, and I didn’t like it one bit. Now here we stood, the familiar pull of lies and secrets threatening to burst the perfect bubble we’d created.

“What kind of business trip?” I pushed.

He looked frustrated with my questions, but I didn’t care.

“I’m pregnant now,” I said. Yeah, I was playing that card. “You can’t just go running all over the country without telling me where you’re going to be.”

“Brighton,” he sighed and pulled me into his arms. “Believe me, this is the last thing I want to do. I want to be here, buried deep inside of you, but I can’t.”

“Tell me where you’re going,” I insisted. “You’re my husband now.

We’re not supposed to have any secrets.”

He looked guilty, and it only made me more suspicious.

“If I tell you, you’re going to assume the worst,” he said.

“I won’t,” I promised. “Just tell me.”

He zipped up his suitcase and sighed. “I have to go to Chicago.”

“Oh.” Instantly, I had a million questions running through my mind. He was right. I was assuming the worst, and I hated that. I didn’t want to.

“For business,” I clarified.

“Yes.” He looked away. “It’s just some old, unresolved issues. Some checks that need to be cashed, things like that.”

I didn’t know the nature of Ryland’s business so I couldn’t say one way or another if he was lying. But I highly suspected he wasn’t telling me the full truth. I knew his dad worked out of Chicago, and they often flew back and forth from California to Illinois. I hoped that maybe it had something to do with that. But I promised Ryland I was going to trust him, and that’s exactly what I needed to do.

“Okay.” I frowned. “And you’ll come back as soon as you can?”

“The minute I can,” he agreed. “I’m out of there.”

He bent down and kissed my belly and then back up to kiss my lips.

“Take care of our baby, baby.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Come back to me. Soon.”

“Always,” he promised. *** Before Ryland left, he’d asked Nicole to come up and stay with me.

I didn’t need babysitting, but I was glad she was there. It had been a while since we’d spent time together with just the two of us. We ordered takeout and took up residence on the sofa, watching nothing but romance movies for six hours straight. Even still, we were both on edge, and I knew what my reasons were, but not hers.

Finally, I reached for the remote and paused the TV. “What’s up, Nicole?”

“Huh?” she blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re all nervous and fidgety,” I said. “I can always tell.”

“Well, so are you,” she grumbled. “Geez, neither one of us can relax.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” I volunteered.

She let her head fall back against the sofa and blew the hair out of her eyes. “Okay.”

I waited patiently for her to formulate the words. It always took Nicole a while. Something I’d come to know well.

“Matt and I have been seeing a lot of each other,” she said. “But we still haven’t… you know.”

“Really?” I asked. “I had no idea. You guys have been going pretty strong now for the last couple of months.”

“I know,” she whined. “Everything is so good. And I know he wants to, but he’s being patient with me. And I’m so nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” I asked. “Haven’t you… er… haven’t..”

“Yes, Brighton.” She laughed. “My God, I’m not a virgin. But the only guy I’ve ever been with is Jackson, and that was so long ago. I’m just scared.”

I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Something else Nicole was getting better at was allowing people to comfort her when she needed it.

“Tell me why you’re scared,” I suggested. “Is it because you’re afraid it’s going to feel wrong?”

“No.” She picked at her nail absently. “It’s not that. We’ve gotten past that I think, for the most part. But it’s just that Matt’s built me up to be this great thing inside of his head, and what if I’m not? What if this screws everything up somehow?”

My heart squeezed as I gave her a knowing smile. She and Ryland were so much more alike than they could ever know. They were both afraid of losing the people they loved again, and I didn’t blame them. But I also wasn’t certain how to reassure her. Regardless, I would do the best I could.

“Look, Nicole,” I said. “You can spend the rest of your life worrying about something potentially bad happening, or you can make the most of every moment you have together. I know that might be easier said than done, but none of us can ever know what’s in store for us. We just have to make the best of the situation we’re in and hope it works out.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” she admitted.

“But you love Matt, right?”

“I do,” she agreed.

“So you could be spending your time being happy with the man you love, or you can spend your time worrying about what the future holds.

What sounds better?”

She grinned and gave me a playful shove on my shoulder.

“Obviously the first one. You make it sound so easy.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s probably not that easy. But there are no guarantees for anybody. I worry every day that something bad is going to happen. Because I’m so ridiculously freaking happy with Ryland right now, it hurts. And I don’t ever want that to be taken away from me.”

“You are happy.” She smiled. “I love that. I love how happy both of you are. It inspires me to believe I can have it too.”

“You already do,” I assured her. “Matt is crazy about you. And taking things to the next level is only going to make him crazier. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh okay.” She bounced around on the couch and grinned. “Now you’re making me all giddy. I’m going to do this. You’re right, I don’t know

what I’m so afraid of.”

“Good.” I grinned. “But I don’t want all the gory details when you do. I consider Matt to be like a brother.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed. “I already know way more about Ryland’s sex life than I ever wanted to.”

“You do?” I asked in confusion.

“Um, well yeah… that day you came home with marks all over your neck, I went and confronted him about it.”

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “And he tried to explain himself, but I did not want the visual.”

I laughed and hugged my knees to my chest, pouting. “I miss him already.”

“Is that why you’re so uptight?” she asked. “You promised to tell me yours.”

“No.” I frowned. “I’m just worried about Brayden. I don’t know what he’s doing or who he’s hanging out with… but I just have this horrible feeling in my stomach.”

“So why don’t you call him,” Nicole suggested.

“I haven’t talked to him since I told him Norma was in rehab,” I admitted. “I don’t know what I would say.”

“Just ask him, Brighton,” she encouraged. “I’ll sit here with you while you do it.”

“You would?”

“Of course, I would,” she insisted. “That’s what friends are for.”

I reached for my phone and hovered over Brayden’s contact. What if I couldn’t handle his answers? I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to do this.

But I needed to know the truth, and Nicole was right. There was only one way to find out. So with a deep breath, I pressed send and waited patiently while the line connected.

“Hello?” Brayden answered.

“Brayden,” I sputtered.

“Brighton.” His tone was flat and cold.

I fidgeted while I tried to figure out what to say. It had never been this difficult to talk to him before. So why was it now?

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” he belted out a hollow laugh. “You send your fucking watchdog here to threaten me, and now you want to ask how I’ve been? I can’t believe you married that prick.”

I swallowed and squeezed the phone in my trembling hand. “You’ve seen Ryland?”

“What the fuck do you think?” he snarled. “Why else would he be in Chicago?”

I almost hung up. I didn’t want to hear this. But I kept telling myself that Ryland wouldn’t do this to me again. That he wouldn’t hurt me like this.

“What did he say?”

“He’s trying to tell me who I can and cannot associate with,” Brayden grated. “As if I believe one fuckin’ word that comes out of his mouth.”

“Who have you been spending time with?” I demanded. “Why are you in Chicago?”

“Why don’t you ask your husband,” he suggested. “He seems to know all about it.”

“I’m asking you.” My voice wobbled. “My brother. Because I don’t want to see you screw up your life Brayden.”

“My life was fucked from the day Frankie walked into it,” he said.

“And that’s all you need to know, Brighton. You have your perfect little life in San Francisco. Congratulations on the baby, by the way, I hope it doesn’t try to kill you in your sleep.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snarled. “You’re my brother, Brayden! How can you talk to me that way?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line, and I knew he regretted what he’d said. But it didn’t change the fact that he’d said it.

“Look, Brighton,” his voice softened. “I don’t want to fight with you. You’re my sister, and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.

But we’re living two different lives now, and you need to stop worrying about me. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“So that’s it?” I whispered. “We’re just not going to see each other or spend time together anymore?”

“And how would that work exactly?” he asked. “I come down to California and spend Christmas with you and Ryland? Or you and Ryland come here and stay in my shitty apartment for a couple of days throughout

the year? We can sit around the table, break bread, talk about the stock market. You tell me if that’s how you see it, Brighton. Because you and I both know that will never fucking happen.”

“He invited you to the wedding,” I said. “You didn’t come.”

Silence. Again.

There were a couple of other voices in the background I didn’t recognize. They were talking to Brayden.

“Listen, I gotta go, Brighton. I’ll try to call you later, okay?”

He was brushing me off. Something I’d never thought Brayden would ever do. “Okay,” I agreed. “Talk to you later then.”

I hung up the phone and cried.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Brighton Ryland had been back for three days and still hadn’t said a word about seeing Brayden. I doubted I’d get the truth if I confronted him, so I was making other plans. Plans that I hated. More sneaking around. More lying.

I checked his schedule for the week and decided today was going to be my best opportunity. I’d already made a copy of his keys, and now it was time to put my plan into action.

I slipped into the silk stockings I’d bought along with the black thong and lace bra. Ryland liked me in white, but I thought black was more fitting to my mission. Once those things were in place, I slipped into a pair of black pumps and a trench coat.

Cliché? Yes. But I didn’t care. I needed to distract Ryland with sex, and this was a surefire way to do it. I got to his office just after noon, and he glanced up in surprise when he saw me walk through the door.

“Hey, baby girl. Everything alright?”

“Yep.” I smiled and shut the door behind me.

Ryland caught on pretty quickly to what I was doing, and he looked both eager and anxious.

“I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“Oh do you?” I feigned ignorance as I untied my coat and let it pool on the floor. “Then I guess I’ll have to make it quick.”

I walked towards him, and his eyes devoured me. His grip on the handles of his chair tightened, but he didn’t make a move. He wanted to see how I was going to play this out.

“I recall a few other times we had to cut it short for a meeting,” I said as I lowered to my knees in front of him. “I do believe you used your belt on me then.”

He cursed, and his head fell back as I rubbed my palm over his cloth covered erection. Just as I suspected, he was hard as a rock already. I tugged

on his zipper and freed him, stroking him in my hand.

“Do you remember that?” I asked.

“Hell yeah,” he grunted. “Your ass was so pink it was all I could think about during my meeting. I sat through the whole thing with a hardon.”

I grinned because I never knew that. I needed to interrogate him like this more often.

“What else did you think about?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer, his cock jumping in my hand as I palmed the silky flesh. “How I wrapped my hand around your throat and fucked you from behind. Fuck that was hot, baby girl. I still think about that all the time.”

“Me too,” I whispered.

“Come up here,” he pleaded. “Turn around and sit on my cock. I need to be inside of you.”

I rose up and spun around, and Ryland gripped my hips and helped me lower myself onto him. I leaned forward just a little bit so he could grab my ass the way he liked as he pumped into me from below.

“This is exactly what I needed today, Brighton,” he spoke reverently. “You always know what I need.”

Those words made my heart ache. The guilt of my deception was almost too much, but it had to be done.

His movements grew quicker, harder, and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thumb reached around and found my clit, and I pulled it into my mouth and sucked it inside instead.

“Not today,” I murmured. “This is just for you.”

He exploded inside of me with a grunt, stroking his hand up and down my back as he collapsed against me. When he’d caught his breath, he turned me in his lap and kissed me soft and slow.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“So fucking much,” I replied.

He gave me a lazy smile and dragged the pad of his thumb across my lips. “Did you miss me?”

I pressed my cheek against his chest and squeezed him with my arms. Of course, I missed him. I always missed him. But that wasn’t why I was there. Why did I feel so bad for doing this?

“Yes,” I whispered. “Always.”

“Then you’ll be glad to know I’m working on a solution to that problem,” he said.

“You are?”

“Yes. I’m redefining job responsibilities and management roles around here so I can spend some time away from the office.”

I stared up at him in surprise. “You mean you’re actually going to give up some control?”

He laughed and kissed my temple. “A little,” he admitted. “But it’s worth it if I get to spend more time with you and the baby.”

“I’m all for that plan.” I wiggled my brows.

“I thought you might be,” he said. “And I’ve made us an appointment to look at some houses on Saturday too.”

“Houses?” I asked. “You mean no more sterile apartments?”

He shook his head. “No.” “You know I didn’t actually think that apartment was sterile,” I admitted.

“I know.” He laughed. “But even if you didn’t, you were right.

We’re a family, that means we need a house.”

His words set my heart aflutter. I’d never lived in a house before. He really did want to be a real family and the idea of it was so sweet it almost overshadowed my need for information. Almost.

“Sorry to cut this short,” he said. “But I have to go.”

“It’s okay.” I stood up and gave him a weak smile. “Mind if I use your bathroom before I go. I’m sure I’m a mess.”

“What’s mine is yours, baby girl.” He kissed me on the forehead and swatted my ass. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I waited until he was gone and then locked the door behind him. But when I sat down at his desk and pulled out my key, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.

I had the same feeling of dread as when I’d discovered his secrets back on Belvedere Island. But this was different. I knew Ryland thought he was protecting me by keeping this information from me. And I wanted to trust that he was right, but with our history, I just couldn’t.

I took a deep breath and opened up his file cabinet. There were about a million neatly organized folders in there, and none of them had anything to do with Brayden. So I went through each meticulous drawer

one by one until I found what I was looking for. And sure enough, it was there. Right beneath his perfectly organized pens. God, I loved my neat freak.

Please don’t hurt me, Ryland.

I pulled the file with Brayden’s name on it from the drawer. And when I opened it, there were surveillance photos. Of Brayden in Chicago.

With a bunch of scary looking guys I didn’t know.

I had a sinking feeling in my gut because it wasn’t too hard to guess who they were.

There was some information about Frankie and his associates, which I really had no desire to see. But Ryland obviously thought it was important, so I kept reading through it. From these records, it looked like Frankie’s boss was a guy named Alfredo Zucco. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t scare the shit out of me.

He had cold black, lifeless eyes. And Ryland had been keeping an eye on him too. But I didn’t know why. There were more pictures of Maria Gallo, Frankie’s wife. And they were recent. I was surprised by how scary she looked too.

I kept imagining someone like Norma, who may have been a little scatterbrained but was generally harmless. But this woman didn’t look harmless at all. Brayden told me Frankie didn’t really work for the mob, but some kind of loan shark. I guess in my mind that had equated to not as dangerous, but clearly, that wasn’t true.

If Frankie’s body being found in a dumpster was any indication, these people had no qualms about taking life at the drop of a hat. The Lockhart family was evidence to that as well. They were just collateral damage.

I wondered if Brayden was trying to look into these things. If he was, I didn’t know what his motive could be. By the time I’d gone through the stack of information, I was no closer to understanding what any of it meant. Ryland had been keeping tabs on a lot more people than I ever suspected. But he was the only one who knew why.

And at the end of the day, I had no other choice. I was going to have to come clean about not trusting him and ask him what it all meant. ***

When Ryland got home, I was waiting for him with a special dinner from one of his favorite restaurants. He kicked off his cap-toe Armani dress shoes and loosened up the collar of his navy blue shirt while he watched me with an odd expression.

“You’ve been in a very giving mood today,” he remarked.

I gave him a weak smile. Of course, he knew something was up, but I wasn’t going to delve into it right away. I would let him eat first, relax a little before I told him I’d lied to him.

“Come and eat,” I urged him. “Before it gets cold.”

He sat down across from me and dug in. The room was quiet, too quiet. I ate my gnocchi and tried to find something pleasant to say before I dragged up the darkness that seemed to loom over us.

“I’m excited to look at houses on Saturday,” I volunteered.

Ryland polished off the last of his steak and pushed his plate across the table as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear it, baby girl. Now come here and give me a cuddle.”

I walked on jelly legs and sat on his lap, curling against his chest.

He was so warm and strong beneath me. My solid foundation. I hated that I still didn’t trust him completely, and I felt even worse for lying to him.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He rubbed circles over my back. “I know there’s something.”

I clutched at his shirt and started crying. How embarrassing. It was happening more and more the farther along I got in my pregnancy, and half the time I didn’t even know why.

“Baby.” He gripped my chin in his fingers and brought my gaze to his. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m a horrible person,” I blurted. “A horrible wife.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I tricked you today,” I said, tearing my gaze from his. “I came to your office and had sex with you so I could look through your files.”

He stiffened beneath me, and his grip tightened. “Why, Brighton?”

“Because I knew you were hiding something to do with Brayden,” I explained. “I talked to him after you’d seen him in Chicago. And I thought… I didn’t want to believe you’d do that to me again. But I really started to think…”

I couldn’t say the words because it was too devastating to even consider. Ryland sighed and pulled me closer.

“You’d have every right to think that,” he said solemnly. “But I need you to know that’s never going to happen, Brighton. I need you to trust me.”

“I know.” I nuzzled against his neck. “But why didn’t you tell me you were keeping tabs on him?”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to have any more unnecessary stress.”

“Well that isn’t your call to make,” I protested. “Not when it comes to my family, Ryland. I need to know what’s going on. Even if I might not like it.”

“C’mon.” He lifted me up and carried me to the couch, setting me down so that my head was in his lap. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but you have to promise not to get upset. It isn’t good for the baby, and I need you to trust that I’ve got the situation under control.”

“Okay.” I nodded.

Ryland stroked his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp as he spoke. He was staring at the wall, and I could see a hint of that old familiar hatred in his eyes when he started to explain.

“There are things I haven’t told you,” he said. “Things I didn’t ever want to tell you. But you’re my wife, and I don’t want secrets between us.”

“Me either,” I agreed. “I want to know everything about you, Ryland. The good and the bad. Whatever it is, it’s in the past.”

He paused to let his eyes wander over my face, and I knew at that moment he still saw me as his pure and unsullied salvation. He didn’t want to taint that, and yet he continued anyway.

“I wanted to kill Frankie,” he deadpanned. “But by the time I left the hospital and figured out who killed my family, Alfredo had already taken care of him. He wasn’t at all pleased with the gigantic mess Frankie had made of that situation.”

“I imagine not.” I closed my eyes and breathed through the pain in my chest. As much as I hated Brayden’s decisions, I was grateful for them.

Because if he hadn’t been with Frankie that night, Ryland wouldn’t be with me today. It was a catch twenty-two.

“It was all I thought of while I recovered,” Ryland continued. “So you can imagine my disappointment when it was taken from me before I even had a chance. Frankie deserved to die, but it should have been me to do it.”

I wasn’t going to argue with him because that was still his grief talking. It was clear as day in his voice, and I wondered if it would ever lessen over time. Frankie did deserve what he got, but Ryland wasn’t a murderer, as much as he told himself he could be. He was nothing like Frankie.

“A few more months passed, and I felt… lost. I was twenty-four years old, and I had everything. And then one day it was just fucking gone.

My dad was still around, but his guilt ate him alive. I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore- I’d lost all respect for him. He was cowering in fear, trying to keep them from getting to me. He was so afraid they would, so I told him to let them come. It made no difference to me.”

More tears squeezed from my eyes, and I buried my face in Ryland’s thigh. I didn’t want him to see how much it hurt to hear this. How much my heart ached for him.

“The next week, he was gone too. He’d sold the house in Chicago and everything else he could to pay them off and leave me an inheritance.

And then he ate the barrel of a gun as penance.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryland.”

“I didn’t feel anything when he died,” he said. “I placed sole responsibility for what happened on his shoulders, and he knew it. Perhaps I should have regretted that, but I didn’t. Still don’t, in fact. He was weak. A coward. And I refused to be like him. I refused to forget what happened to my family and who was at fault. That night played through my mind on repeat, Brighton. And there was only one face that I could see. One place for that rage to go.”

He didn’t have to tell me. I already knew it was Brayden. My family. We were guilty by association, just like his family had been. A cruel sort of justice to fit the crime. But there was someone else too. A man at the top of the food chain that I hadn’t given much thought to before. Now that Ryland was talking about it, I had to wonder how he fit into this puzzle.

“What about Frankie’s boss?” I asked. “What about Alfredo?”

“I was well aware that Alfredo gave the order,” he said. “But he was untouchable for someone like me. I was nothing back then, and to him, I was a loose end. Men like Alfredo- they don’t like loose ends. So he was amused as hell when I walked right into his den. It was a big risk. He could have killed me without a second thought, and we both knew it. Instead, I made him a proposition that day.”

“What kind of proposition?” I asked nervously.

“He wanted you and Brayden dead,” he replied in a rough voice. “I asked him to hold off in exchange for some heavy compensation. For seven years- enough time to do what was necessary. To get the resources I needed and to make my plan work.”

His words felt like a lead weight on my chest, and Ryland pulled me up into his arms and stared into my eyes. “I didn’t know you back then,” he said. “I’d never even met you when I made that agreement. I wasn’t thinking straight, Brighton.”

“So he’s going to come after me and Brayden,” I swallowed. “It’s true then.”

“I’m working it out with him.” He clasped my face in his hands and pleaded for me to believe him. “I will never let anything harm you, baby girl.”

“But what about Brayden?” I swallowed. “He’s there. He’s right in the middle of it. Does he know?”

Ryland looked away, his jaw clenching. “I tried to tell him. He doesn’t want to fucking listen. He thinks he can talk Alfredo out of it. That he can go to work with him.”

“What the hell is wrong with him?” I asked.

Ryland didn’t answer, and I was grateful. I knew he hated Brayden, and this was only going to make it worse. But I believed him when he said he was trying to do the right thing.

“I don’t understand how he came to be this way,” I said. “He isn’t the brother that I knew. He isn’t the one I grew up with. I don’t know why he’s trying to follow in Frankie’s footsteps.”

Ryland stroked my back and smoothed my hair away from my face, searching my eyes before he spoke again. “I’m going to protect you, Brighton. No matter what. But there isn’t anything else I can do for Brayden. Not when he’s willingly walking right into the middle of it.”

His words cut me, but it wasn’t his fault. He was right. The same thing I’d learned with Norma. You could only help those who wanted to help themselves.

Chapter Thirty-Six Ryland Brighton was curiously quiet as she moped around our bedroom getting ready. This was supposed to be a good day for her. A day when I took her to see the crème de la crème of the bay’s real estate market and told her to take her pick. Anything you want baby, it’s yours. Whatever enthusiasm I’d predicted was swiftly eclipsed by worry.

It was that fucknut Brayden and his dense as shit brain.

He’d gotten to Alfredo, and remarkably, was still breathing- for now. But I didn’t trust that slimy tick for one second. I had an inclination to throw some more money at the problem. Knowing how Alfredo’s brain worked, he’d take that as an insult. We had a deal, he’d say. The same offhand utterance he probably told my father right before our entire family was slaughtered.

Something needed to be done.

There was still, unofficially, another year on the clock. A year for me to figure out the best angle in which to approach this matter. The most important move I’d ever make. I needed to be methodical and precise in my planning and execution.

While common sense dictated I should take my time and be reasonable, I had a pressing need to quash the threat now. Being hasty could wind up getting us all killed. While Alfredo wasn’t actually connected, he was dangerous enough. He had a small army of loyal henchmen and rarely ventured anywhere with no less than six of them.

There was a time when I’d considered taking him on myself. That was until I saw his operation. I wouldn’t make it past the first wave of his crew, realistically. So I’d done what any man in my position would do. I compiled.

Years, I’d had eyes on him. Waiting for him to slip up. To nail him with something that’d actually cut the mustard in the half-baked justice system. But Alfredo was a shrewd one. I had a lot of shit on his men, but nothing on the golden goose himself.

It was irritating as fuck.

Sand slipped through the hourglass, day after day, turning up nothing of significance. It wasn’t until the charity gala that I’d started to follow the breadcrumbs in my head. Alex Burton could’ve said just about anything to ruffle my feathers, but he’d specifically chosen the word loyalty. It rung my alarm, and the threat was clear. He was involved in this somehow. I didn’t know what his angle was, but I’d stake my fortune that he was in bed with Alfredo on this deal. His crew lived by the code. The only law in their circle. And in an unfortunate twist of fate, Alfredo was indisputably loyal to Robert Burton, which also encompassed Alex by default.

Robert and Alex were always cooking up some dubious plot in their smarmy brains. A scheme that undoubtedly put Brighton right in their crosshairs. Just like her blood relation to Frankie had put her in mine.

The grimness of my choices and consequences weighed heavily on my mind. Remorse had a strangle hold on me. But it wouldn’t do me a lick of good to roll over and admit defeat just yet. Like me, Alfredo had a weakness. So did Alex, and so did Robert. I would find it, and I would use it against them if I must.

I would do this because I loved her. And love motivated me perhaps even more so than hatred ever had.

“Come here, baby.” I pulled Brighton into me and kissed her bare shoulder.

She tasted like sunshine, and I couldn’t fucking breathe without her near. She was soft and unblemished and pure as the driven snow. I’d never let anyone darken her life again.

“I’m sorry.” She leaned her head back against my chest and sighed.

“I’m not trying to be a Debbie Downer.”

“Should we reschedule for another day?” I asked. “I want this to be a good memory for you. No bad thoughts hanging over us while we pick out our home.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief at my suggestion, and though I was disappointed, the offer was genuine.

“You wouldn’t be mad?” she pressed. “I feel so bad. I just can’t stop thinking about Brayden. He won’t return my calls. He hasn’t talked to Norma either.”

Norma. That was another issue I had yet to deal with. I saw an opportunity to take Brighton’s mind off the situation, and I seized it.

“You know she’s leaving the program in two weeks.”

“I know,” she croaked. “I’m really nervous. She seems like she’s doing so well. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but at the same time I hope it lasts.”

“I think she’ll do fine,” I assured her. “She didn’t have any issues during the three days she was down in Florida.”

“True,” she conceded. “But this is Norma. She’s never been great at follow through.”

“Well, once we get a house, how do you feel about giving her the apartment? Then you can keep an eye on her.”

Brighton spun in my arms and blinked up at me with complete adoration. Her eyes were large and child-like, glassy with unshed tears.

“You would do that for her?”

“I’d do it for you,” I insisted. “And it’s probably best she doesn’t go back to Illinois.”

Her arms came around my waist and squeezed.

“God, I love you.”

My heart stuttered violently to life in my chest- like a car that had been left sitting too long. It always did when she said those words. I still found myself in a state of disbelief that she meant them half the time, but Brighton would never lie. She was too good for that.

Pushing her hair back over her shoulders, I kissed her tenderly, infusing myself with her essence. It always felt like I was stealing something from her whenever I did this, but she gave it so willingly. A tiny mew stole from her lips when she felt my heat against her belly, and she rubbed against me like a greedy little kitten.

“I need you,” she begged.

My resulting groan was buried in the thickness of her hair as I groped around for her tits. Subsequently, I found the softness of her throat with my lips and chased the familiar urge of exerting my dominance. I needed to mark her. Claim her. Prove she was mine in every way.

I walked her backwards until her legs hit the bed and eased her back. Then I just took a minute to let my eyes roam over her. She was so goddamn lovely, spread out like an offering against the black silk of the bed sheets. In a white bra and panties, no less. Her tits were ripe for the picking

as they rose and fell in exaggerated breaths. She panted and whimpered, desperately swollen with my baby and a ferocious appetite for my cock.

I wanted to devour her.

Kneeling before her, I worshipped her body like the goddess she was. Mapping out her contours, my hands roved reverently about her breasts, her ribs, her stomach. So many things I wanted to do with her.

Some items on the agenda would have to wait. Rough and tumble games I’d stow away for a rainy day. A day when the baby was already here, and I knew my dirty deeds wouldn’t cause harm. Perhaps while we worked on baby number two then?

I smothered my face against her panties and inhaled like a junkie.

Fucking Christ, her scent. I’d try to put it into words, but they wouldn’t do it justice. You’d just have to take my word that it couldn’t be beaten.

Already damp, the thin cotton material stuck to her skin, and I pressed my fingers against it to soak it further. Always wet for me, my little lotus flower. Ah, the things she did to me.

The animal in me stirred, and my teeth tugged on the elastic waistband. Apparently, it wasn’t hasty enough for my little fiend. Her hips arched up, and her fingers slid through my hair and tugged.

“Please, Ryland.”

Two distinct urges warred inside of me. I wanted to spank the shit out of her and put her in her place, but I also wanted to listen to her beg while she grinded on my face. Hm, quandaries, quandaries.

I settled on slipping the panties down her thighs and tossing them to the floor before diving in. Lapping at her arousal with raucous slurping noises, she rewarded me with more. Her pussy soaked my lips and face as I fucked her unabashedly with my tongue. It wasn’t a chore with Brighton. It was an insatiable need. A fix all its own to experience her this way. I tried to tell her as much, but my words were muffled by her squeezing her thighs around my head. My little pet was being greedy again.

I nipped at her clit in warning, and she gasped. She shot me her best pouty eyes, and I grinned up at her.

“You’ll get it when you get it,” I chastised her. “Or not at all if you keep pushing it.”

She whined, and I went back to work, finger fucking her pussy the way the dirty little hellion liked. I coveted every gasp and mewl she made, committing them all to memory. Her tits bounced when she jerked around

the bed, her head shaking violently from side to side on the pillow as she muttered incoherent nonsense. One might in fact wonder if I was performing an exorcism. Heh. So well I knew her body, her needs. I squeezed the fleshy part of her ass in my hands and tilted her pelvis just so. My fingers hooked inside of her, and she sobbed and lurched forward at the same time.

Her muscles tautened and contracted as she arced up off the bed, gripping the sheets in her fists. It was coming, and it was going to be a tidal wave. I buried my face between her legs and let it wash over me, soaking up everything she had to give. My name echoed off the walls of our bedroom, and I took a primitive satisfaction in the raw intoxication of her voice.

For a long while, I didn’t move, reveling in the sight of her coming down from a violent orgasm as she fought for breath. Her hair tangled around her face, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her brow. I had a notion to lick it off of her, but that would require breaking my reverent stare. It was always a war with me, between the watching and the doing. I was fond of drawing it out. Making it as painstakingly slow as I could.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Death by orgasm sounds like the way to go.”

My quip was funny for all of two seconds before reality crept back in. I didn’t want to joke about losing her. Ever.

Standing up, I discarded my clothes while Brighton watched with heavy lids. Her eyes roamed over my body while she bit her lip to hide a smile. Those eyes were the loudest thing about her. Volumes of emotions lived inside them, and right now they betrayed her hunger.

“Like what you see, baby girl?” I teased.

“You’re such a cocky bastard,” she giggled.

I shrugged. “I’m your cocky bastard.”

Taking my place on the bed, I relaxed against the headboard, cock standing at attention between my legs.

“Come up here,” I ordered. “I want to watch you ride me.”

“You mean you want to have access to my huge boobs so you can play with them the entire time,” she retorted.

Again, I shrugged. No need to play coy.

Brighton wiggled her way towards me, stretching her legs on opposite sides of my hips before planting her ass in my lap. Her hands used

my shoulders as a springboard as she rubbed herself against my cock. A groan escaped in spite of my feigned composure.

“Somebody’s being greedy,” she threw the words back at me as she slid along my length, teasing but not quite letting me inside.

It was of little consequence to me. I leaned back and stretched my hands behind my head to enjoy the show. I could watch this all fucking day.

Brighton threw her head back in laughter, taunting me with the creamy skin along her throat. Lusting for a taste of it, I bobbed forward and captured her around the waist, flicking my tongue against her pulse. That pulse beat for me. Without that pulse, I was nothing.

That knowledge got me harder than anything else ever could. She was all mine to play with. To tease and taunt and fuck how I saw fit. My teeth scraped along her sensitive skin and brought on a welcome hitch in her breath. Brighton liked the anticipation. The ever present knowledge that I’d sink my teeth into her flesh, but never quite knowing where.

Course, I had to be more cautious in the places I went about it these days. Another welcome side effect of her carrying my child. Even the sadist in me had a tender spot for the little fella. We didn’t want to harm him.

At the base of her throat, I gave her just enough of a nip to leave a little mark. That would do quite nicely to distract. She moaned and tugged at my hair in a weak attempt to take back control by shoving my face into her skin. I used the hand resting on her tit to pinch the nipple at the same time I bit down on her shoulder.

“Again,” she ordered.

My palms squeezed her ass and then smacked it for good measure.

“Sorry, my love,” my voice darkened. “Was that a command you just gave me?”

“Please,” she begged recklessly. “Mark me again.”

Hard fingers wrapped around her pony tail and gave a sharp tug.

“Do you forget who you’re talking to?”

Her eyes widened as her head rattled back and forth in a frantic effort. “Never,” she promised. “You’re in charge, Ryland.”

I hummed my approval against the column of her neck, imbibing her scent in long, slow pulls. My lips roamed over the silken landscape of her skin, pausing to nip her earlobe before further exploration. She hissed in a breath, and I used the opportunity to latch onto her neck. Sucking her until

she bruised, I soothed it over with my tongue while my fingers strummed circles over her back.

“Better?” I asked.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Covering her hand with mine, I dragged it down until it was wrapped around my cock. I liked to watch her play with it, to see the uncertainty bloom across her face as she handled the beast. She made a fist and gave a couple light tugs before teasing my balls with the pads of her fingers. Something else she liked to play with. I wasn’t complaining.

My head fell back, and I urged her forward. Without much decorum, her breast was promptly stuffed into my mouth while she pleasured me. I wanted to be inside of her, but prolonging her defiant foreplay seemed like an acceptable alternative.

Throughout the progression of her pregnancy, her nipples had grown sweeter. I wasn’t imagining things, they tasted like frigging candy, and I couldn’t get enough of them. Each pink confection received an appropriate amount of tongue lashing before I repeated the process on the other side.

Every time I deemed myself satisfied, I went back in for just another sip.

That’s how it always begins, isn’t it? Just another taste? I groaned out my frustration while rubbing the soft mounds all over my face.

Brighton giggled and then sobered.

“I want you to fuck me hard,” she whispered.

My eyes roamed over hers, staggered by the fear of rejection that lay within. Before I even got a chance to say anything at all, she continued to state her case.

“I asked the doctor, and she said it’s fine as long as nothing hurts.”

My hands cradled her face, and I gave her a tender kiss. She melted against me in one breath, and in the next attempted to stage a protest. My fingers hardened around her jaw and bit into the skin, eliciting a gasp as my lips moved to her ear.

“You want my filthy words, baby girl?”

“Yes.” She panted.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to say dirty things.”

My tongue clicked, and I shook my head in disappointment. “Too vague. Sorry, baby.”

She wailed in frustration and gave me her widest, most innocent eyes. “Please, Ryland?”

“Please what?” I mocked her, my hands gentle as a Spring breeze as they glided over her skin.

“Please fuck me and make it good.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “You wound me, baby girl. Is it not always good?”

She had the decency to look ashamed of her jumbled up words.

“Yes, of course, it is. Always. The best…”

“Okay, now you’re just going overboard. No need to gloat.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she tried to pull away. “Just forget it,” she ranted.

I snatched her arm and held in her place with a sadistic grin. Oh, how I loved when she took a tone with me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She opened her mouth, and I crushed my lips against hers, shocking the hell out of her. My teeth snagged the plump bottom lip and tugged sharply. She whined out her pleasure and dug her fingers into my shoulders.

My erection had the nerve to start grinding against her belly.

Impatient little fuck.

“Stand up,” I barked.

She scurried to her feet like a good little soldier and awaited my instructions with clasped hands.

“I’m not going to fuck you hard, Brighton.”

Another protest was on the verge of her lips as she blinked up at me, and I silenced her with a look. She’d learned to love the pain I bestowed her. Now she craved it. She wasn’t the only one who missed it.

“You’ve got my baby inside of you,” I scolded as I pressed her against my chest. “We aren’t going to risk it. But I’ll give you what you need.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I turned her to face the wall and pushed her palms up against it.

“Open your legs for me, dirty girl.”

She did.

The engorged purple head of my cock didn’t waste any time seeking out her heat as I rubbed myself against her. Dipping inside of her once just to get wet, I smeared some of that wetness over her ass.

A pause. I waited for the all clear from ground control.

“Yes, please…” she moaned. “Please, Ryland.”

“Okay, baby,” I cooed. “No need to ask me twice.”

I slipped inside of her with a torrent of curse words. Her toes curled into the carpet and her spine arced into a beautiful curve once I’d rooted myself fully.

“Good girl.” My praises were punctuated by tender kisses down her back and across her shoulders. “Such a good girl for me.”

She quaked beneath my praise and tried to rock back against me. I stilled her with my fingers in her mouth.

“Suck.”

She did.

Once they were nice and wet, I brought them down to her clit and coaxed some more incoherent babble from her lips.

“This is mine,” I informed her.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she agreed enthusiastically.

“My pussy.” Thrust. “My ass.” Thrust. “My filthy little mouth to fuck when I please.” Thrust.

“Yes, Ryland!”

Her voice tinged with excitement, and my cock swelled with every throaty murmur.

“You’ll never take it away from me again.”

“No, never.” She shook.

My thumb flattened against her clit, and she bucked against me, screaming out profanities. What an utterly sweet debauchee she’d turned into.

She rode my palm, pistoning me faster, harder. I allowed her to take over the pace because it felt too fucking good not to. She trembled and constricted around me, searing me with scorching heat as savage shock waves tore through her body. Already on the verge of exploding myself, her next words propelled me over the brink.

“I’ll never leave you again, Ryland.”

“Oh, Christ.” I threw my head back on a groan. My cock jerked violently, spewing boiling hot lava deep inside of her.

Brighton collapsed back against my chest, and I barely made it to the bed before we both fell in a heap. Completely unaware of how

profoundly she affected me, she curled up like a kitten and promptly went to sleep in my arms.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Brighton After two weeks of moping around, I finally decided that I needed to stop stressing over Brayden. I’d left him texts and voicemails to call me, and I hoped that he would. But in the meantime, I needed to focus on getting ready for the baby which meant house shopping.

When Ryland made the appointment with the realtor, I had no idea what kind of houses he had in mind for us. But when I saw them, I was utterly speechless.

They were the kind of houses I’d only ever seen in magazines. Top of the line luxury with more space than I even knew what to do with. From turn of the century in Pacific Heights to art deco in Sea Cliff, we saw them all. The realtor had an excited gleam in her eye as she led us from property to property, no doubt tallying up the commission she was about to rake in.

But Ryland didn’t really seem to have an opinion one way or the other, simply asking me what I thought of each one as we went. Until we got to the last and final house.

On Belvedere Island.

His whole demeanor changed as we drove down Golden Gate Avenue and pulled into the gated driveway of the white mansion overlooking the sea. I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed, giving him a soft smile as the car came to a stop. I never would have guessed that he’d even consider a house so close to his old family home, but there was something in his eyes that told me differently. It was a small spark of hope.

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to live here,” he said. “But I grew up in this community, and I know the people. I think it’s a great place to raise kids, and I wanted you to see this place before you make a decision.”

I leaned up and kissed him before the realtor ruined our moment by delving into details about the architecture. Ryland helped me from the car, and I got a good look at the palatial Queen Anne style mansion perched on a prime piece of San Francisco real estate. It was elegant, yet in an

understated way, which I liked. It looked like a real home, albeit a very large one. The realtor started rattling off features as I tried to take it all in.

The property came with wraparound porches, a solarium, and a carriage house. As she commenced the tour, she pointed out each feature as we went along.

“Herringbone oak floors, mahogany doors, marble bathrooms…”

I stopped listening as I tried to take it all in. It was honestly the most beautiful home I’d ever seen. Everything inside was filled with natural light, creating a relaxed and happy atmosphere. In the back, the views of the city skyline and Angel Island were unrivaled. There was a pool and garden, and even an outdoor breakfast nook. The property had more bedrooms than Ryland and I could ever use in a lifetime, but he mentioned something about getting a housekeeper upon my pointing that out.

When I glanced up to see how carefully he was watching me, it was obvious how much he wanted this place. This was where he felt most at home. Where he wanted to settle down and make a lifetime of memories. I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it’s completely crazy.” I smiled up at him. “But I love it.”

He looked relieved. “You do?”

“I’d be crazy not to.”

“Agreed,” the realtor chimed in.

We both laughed and took a moment to stare out at the skyline before Ryland spoke again.

“Let’s do it,” he said. “I want to put in an offer today.” *** Once Ryland set things in motion, it took us all of three weeks to get settled into our new house. The realtor told me she appreciated that he was a man who got things done quickly. I simply laughed. She had no idea what Ryland could accomplish when he set his mind to it.

We had a housewarming dinner and invited Matt, Nicole, and Norma. Since leaving rehab, she’d moved into our old apartment, and seemed to be spending a lot of time with Ted. It was very odd, considering he was nothing like Frankie, but I guess that was a good thing.

Matt and Nicole’s relationship had obviously progressed just fine, considering how she couldn’t keep her hands off him. She still found time to book shopping dates and arrange times to decorate the nursery which I obliged her. We also planned to continue our weekly meetings for Sophia’s Shoes in the city until the baby came.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan, and true to Ryland’s word, he’d cut back his hours at work. But as soon as everyone left that night, he dropped a bomb on me.

“I have to go back to Chicago tomorrow,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. “No.” “Brighton.” He sighed. “It really is just business this time. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Come here.” He patted his lap.

I frowned and walked towards him slowly, and once I was within reach, he tugged me onto his lap. Taking out his phone, he pulled up some emails along with a schedule.

“I have a meeting with Robert Burton,” he said. “About the shareholders of my company. It’s important, and I can’t put it off any longer, otherwise, I wouldn’t go.”

“Robert Burton, as in…”

“Alex’s father.” Ryland nodded.

“What does he have to do with your shareholders?” I asked, remembering how Matt said the Burton family was involved in some bad business dealings.

Ryland’s expression clearly told me he didn’t want me involved in this. It only made me more determined.

“It’s complicated, Brighton. He’s trying to strong arm some of my shareholders. He’s using underhanded business tactics, and I won’t stand for it.”

“But he’s dangerous,” I protested. “Matt told me some of the things he’d been involved with.”

“Don’t worry.” Ryland gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ve got it handled, baby girl.”

I didn’t like that he was dealing with the Burtons one bit. It scared the hell out of me, but this was his company. I knew he wouldn’t just let whatever they were doing slide.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” I pleaded.

“Always.” He gave me a reassuring smile.

“And you’re going to take Mick with you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Mick stays with you. That’s his job.”

“I can have Matt and Nicole come stay while you’re gone,” I said.

“I’d much rather he was with you.”

“Not gonna’ happen,” he smirked. “You don’t need to worry about me, Brighton. I can take care of myself, okay?”

I frowned but nodded. There was no point in arguing with him when he was like this. He was stubborn as hell.

“And while we’re on the topic.” He reached into his filing cabinet and pulled out a folder. “I need your signature on a few things.”

“Okay.” I glanced at the paperwork in confusion before I realized what it was. If I wasn’t worried before, now I was terrified.

“Life insurance?” I squeaked.

“I just want to have everything in order,” he explained. “It’s just a precaution.”

I shook my head and crossed my arms. “I don’t want to sign these,” I protested. “That makes it seem like it could really happen.”

Ryland reached up and trailed his fingers along my jaw. “Baby girl, this is important,” he said softly. “If anything ever happens to me…”

“Which it won’t,” I cut in.

“It won’t,” he assured me, “but if it did, I need to know that you and the baby will have everything you need, okay? Everything in my will has already been arranged, and this is the last step. Consider it something to help me sleep at night.”

I still didn’t feel comfortable with it, but I decided to indulge him just so I didn’t have to think about it anymore. I scrawled my signature across the documents quickly and then shoved them away.

“One more thing.” He pulled a piece of paper from his desk with a picture of an SUV. He’d been looking at them forever trying to decide on the safest one to buy. “This is the one I want to get. Okay?”

I didn’t want to tell him he was scaring me. It felt like he was wrapping everything up. Like he really thought something might happen to him.

“We’ll get it together,” I said. “When you come back from your trip.”

He nodded.

“Promise me,” I demanded. “Promise me that this is all just a precaution like you say, Ryland.”

“Come on, baby.” He pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me. “Let’s go to bed. Before I have to leave tomorrow.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Brighton There was a churning feeling in my gut that I hadn’t been able to rid all morning. Ryland had been gone for six hours, and I hadn’t heard from him. Not even a text.

It wasn’t like him.

There was something about this business trip that had me biting my nails, and it wasn’t just Robert and Alex Burton. I didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

I paced anxiously across the back porch, cell phone clutched in my hand as I waited for Ryland to respond to one of my many worried texts. He didn’t leave me hanging like this. Ever. I knew something was wrong.

My cell phone rang, and my heart swelled with relief. But then I saw that it was Nicole.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Brighton, have you seen the news?”

My hand trembled as I walked into the house and looked for the remote. “What news?”

“Turn on Channel 7,” she said.

I flipped through the channels and saw a photo of Ryland and Alex Burton plastered across the screen, along with a scrolling headline beneath.

Alex Burton and Ryland Bennett strike business partnership What does this mean for the future of technology?

Rivals unite as one…

“No,” I whispered. “That isn’t right. Ryland would never make a deal with him.”

“That’s the same thing I thought,” Nicole murmured. “Something weird is going on.”

“I haven’t heard from him since he left this morning,” I croaked.

“I’m really scared, Nicole.”

“I’m sure he’s just in flight, Brighton,” Nicole tried to reassure me.

“He probably wanted to get back home to you as soon as possible.”

I accepted her words because I needed to believe them. But in my gut, I knew it wasn’t true. Ryland always texted me before his flight.

“Hey, look,” Nicole said. “Why don’t I grab some cupcakes and come over so we can work on the nursery until he gets home?”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I didn’t want to admit how much I needed her there. My nerves were completely shot, and I was grateful for the distraction.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” she said. “Just sit down and relax until I get there.”

Five o’ clock came and went. Then six, and seven, and nine. It was now eleven at night, and there was still no word from Ryland. Nicole and I had worked on the nursery and gorged on cupcakes and takeout. But I couldn’t hold back my fears any longer.

“I have to call the police,” I said. “There’s something wrong, Nicole.

I can feel it.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I think you’re right, Brighton. Maybe they can track his phone or something.”

The police arrived an hour later. The officer that showed up didn’t seem all that invested in Ryland’s whereabouts and even went as far to suggest he was probably just drunk in a bar somewhere.

I told him that wasn’t Ryland. That he never did anything like this. I told him about his meeting with Robert Burton and Alex’s threat from the charity gala months before. The officer jotted everything down on his notepad and explained the procedures. It hadn’t been long enough to officially declare him missing, but given who he was and the previous threat, they were going to look into it.

And then they just left me there. Alone and without my husband. *** Three days had come and gone.

I was going out of my fucking mind. I couldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t keep anything down. Matt, Nicole, Norma, and Ted all kept silent

vigil in the living room, waiting for any shred of news.

Ryland had officially been declared missing. The police hadn’t told me anything, but they’d come and torn the house apart searching for clues.

I’d been questioned a thousand times, things I didn’t even know. And I hated myself for not knowing more about Ryland’s company. Why didn’t I know these things? I should have known these things. I was supposed to be helping him, and I couldn’t even answer their questions.

I’d sent Mick to look for him, and he didn’t protest. He said Ryland could be pissed whenever he came back, but right now, he was his top priority. I was grateful and spent every waking second thinking of something else I could do. Something else that I’d missed.

I even tried to contact Alex Burton. I left him several hate filled messages, but he wouldn’t return my calls. All of the light that filled my life was suddenly turning bleak. My heart grew weak in my chest, and I felt like I wouldn’t be able to go on. I couldn’t lose him. There was just no way. We were meant to be together. It couldn’t end this way.

There was a knock at the door, and Norma got up to answer it while Nicole tried to get me to drink some water. Another detective came into the room, one I didn’t recognize.

“Brighton Bennett?” he asked.

“That’s me.” I stood up on shaky legs. “Do you have any news?”

“I’m going to need you to come with me,” he said.

Matt was at my side a moment later, glaring at the man and his tone of voice. “What’s this about?” he demanded.

“We have some questions for Mrs. Bennett,” the detective answered.

“You’ve already asked her questions,” Matt said. “Repeatedly. She doesn’t need to go anywhere. This is her home, and as you can see, she’s very pregnant.”

The detective didn’t seem to care. “She doesn’t have a choice at this point.”

“It’s okay, Matt,” I said. “I want to help. I’ll do whatever they ask.”

“I’m coming with you,” he stated.

Nicole gave me a quick hug and smoothed down my hair. “I’ll stay by the phone in case anyone calls,” she said. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything at all, okay?”

“Okay.”

I followed the detective out the door and into his car, grateful to have Matt by my side. Whatever was going on, I had a feeling it didn’t bode well for me. *** “I told you he was in Chicago,” I said for the fifth time.

“That is what you said,” the detective agreed, leaning across the table to watch me carefully. “But that wasn’t true, Mrs. Bennett.”

“What are you talking about?” I hissed. “He had a business trip to Chicago that day. With Robert Burton. How many fucking times do I have to say it?”

I was losing my patience, but I didn’t care. They were wasting their time asking me these stupid questions over and over instead of looking for Ryland. I was beginning to hate them all.

“Ryland scheduled a flight that morning, but he never took it,” the detective answered in a neutral tone. “His driver dropped him off in front of his building, and that was the last time he was seen.”

Bile rose up in my throat as I clutched my arms around myself, shaking my head. “No, that’s not right,” I rasped. “You have to be mistaken.

He went straight from our house. And then all that stuff was on the news, so I know he met with Alex Burton.”

“That meeting with Alex Burton took place two weeks ago,” the detective answered again.

I wanted to believe that he was lying to me. That he just misunderstood what was happening. But I could tell by his eyes he wasn’t.

Which only meant one thing. Ryland had been backed into a corner by Alex Burton. But how? And why didn’t he say anything to me?

“I understand that you also signed off on a sizable life insurance policy on your husband the night before he went missing.”

I stared at him in shock as his words sunk in.

“Oh my God.” Disgust rolled through me. “You think I… you seriously think…”

I couldn’t even get the words out. They were too vile. Too horrible.

“I would never…” I shook my head adamantly, the tears flowing freely. “I love him so much. I just want him back. He’s everything to me.

Please…” I sobbed. “You just have to get him back for me.”

The detective watched me have a complete mental breakdown as if it was some sort of a test before he nodded in conclusion.

“I know this is very upsetting, Mrs. Bennett,” he said in a gentle tone. “But you have to understand how it looks. You’re telling us he was threatened by Alex Burton, and yet he willingly entered into a business partnership with him two weeks ago. And then you just so happen to sign off on a life insurance policy the night before he goes missing. You have to understand how that looks.”

“How it looks is that Alex is setting this up,” I yelled. “And while you’re in here accusing me of things I would never do, my husband could be in danger…”

We didn’t get any further, because the next moment, there was a knock on the door of the room I was being held in.

“Mrs. Bennett.” A sharply dressed woman with shrewd eyes stepped into the room. “I don’t want you to say another word.”

“Who are you?” I asked as the detective gave a frustrated sigh.

“My name is Edith Rickard, and I’m your newly appointed attorney.”

I blinked in confusion. “Do I need an attorney?”

The detective folded his hands across the table and shrugged.

“That’s up to you, Mrs. Bennett. But in the interest of helping your husband…”

“Don’t you play that card,” Edith barked. “You’ve been badgering my client. Correction…” Her eyes trailed over my body. “My very pregnant and obviously distraught client for two hours straight when she is clearly the victim in this case. Now, do you have anything to charge her with?”

“No,” the detective replied flatly.

“Very well, then come with me, Mrs. Bennett. We’re done here.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Brighton I smoothed my fingers over the necklace Ryland bought me for our wedding, remembering his words.

Keep it close to your heart, and we’ll always be in sync.

I had to hold back a sob as I wondered if his heart still beat. I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t feel him. Where was he?

Edith had been working nonstop, pouring over everything on Ryland’s computer, looking for clues as to what could have happened. She told me she suspected that Alex Burton was blackmailing him somehow.

That it didn’t make any sense for Ryland to partner with him when his company was doing so well otherwise. But we needed proof, and that was going to take time.

I left it in her hands and did what little I could. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough. But it was all I could do to focus on each task as though they were the most important thing in the world. As though they would each bring me one step closer to having Ryland home.

The house was still filled with people, but I’d never felt more alone.

Mick texted me updates, but so far there hadn’t been anything of use. He’d gone to Chicago, but now that I knew Ryland never made it to Chicago, it seemed pointless for him to be there. I told him to come back this morning, and we would figure out where to go from here.

Then my phone chimed, and my chest tightened when I saw the name.

Brayden.

He’d been ignoring me for weeks, and it was odd for him to be contacting me now. I glanced around the room and realized I didn’t want to read this in a room full of people, so I stepped out onto the back porch while they planned out more search efforts.

I swiped the screen and scrolled through my messages.

I need you to meet me.

It’s about Ryland.

My heart skipped as I pressed send on Brayden’s name. But it just rang out. I tried him twice more before I gave up and started tapping out a text. Before I could even send it, another one came through. With an address and a time, and nothing more.

I stared at the phone in confusion. This meant Brayden was in San Francisco, but why? The horrifying realization that he might have had something to do with Ryland’s disappearance haunted me. I tried to call him again, but he didn’t answer.

Another text came through a moment later.

Don’t bring anyone with you or tell them where you’re going.

He’s in danger.

Frustration and relief both warred inside of me. If he was in danger, it meant that he was still alive. That there was still time. But I didn’t understand why Brayden would be helping him if that’s even what this was.

Or why he wasn’t answering his phone.

I glanced over my shoulder and looked through the window at all of our friends gathered around the sofa, working hard to try to find Ryland. It was stupid for me to go alone to this address. I texted Brayden back.

I can’t come alone.

A reply came through almost immediately.

You have to. Or else he’s dead.

Just trust me.

Panic engulfed me. I didn’t want to believe those words. And could I even trust Brayden at this point? I had no idea. But this was my only ray of hope. Every other lead we had was dead. And I couldn’t just ignore it.

The time on my phone told me I had an hour to get to the address on my screen. It wasn’t a lot of time, considering I was on Belvedere Island, but I would have to make it work. The only problem was sneaking out of

the house without anyone noticing. There was no way they would let me go anywhere with the shape I’d been in over the last few days.

I walked back in and gave Nicole a smile when she looked up at me with a worried expression.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” My voice was shaky and totally unconvincing. “I’m just going to go upstairs and lie down for a nap.”

Nicole stood up to help me. She was like a mother hen, hovering over me and trying to do everything for me. It was incredibly sweet, but right now, I needed her attention elsewhere.

“I’m fine, Nicole,” I told her. “I can manage on my own. It makes me feel better knowing that you’re all down here looking through everything.”

She nodded and bit her lip in clear frustration. We hadn’t found anything in Ryland’s records, which didn’t really surprise me. He had a lot of files on a variety of different people, including Alex Burton, but none of them gave away the really shady details. He always seemed to keep those to himself somehow.

“Well, just let me know if you need anything,” Nicole said. “I’ll be right down here.”

“Thanks.” I nodded and scurried from the room as quickly as I could go. I was seven months pregnant, and everything about me was slowing down.

I walked up the stairs so I didn’t arouse any suspicion and went straight to Ryland’s office. The keys to his jaguar were in his key box, complete with a label and all. It fractured what little was left of my strength.

Only my husband would put a label on keys to a Jaguar.

I hoped that I could help him. I hoped that Brayden wasn’t deceiving me.

I walked out onto the balcony and took the stairs that led down to the back yard. Luckily the garage was far enough away from the sitting room that I didn’t think they would hear me.

I felt ridiculous slipping into his Jaguar. Ryland didn’t like me driving anywhere, so I didn’t. I was fine with that. I felt safe riding with Ted, and I’d grown used to it.

The interior smelled of leather and cinnamon, and I closed my eyes to inhale. I needed him to be safe. I needed him to be okay. I didn’t know

what I would do if he wasn’t.

The car started with a quiet purr, and I slipped out of the gate without anyone noticing, at least as far as I could tell. The drive was long and tense. Every mile that passed felt like ten. Traffic was thick in the city this time of day, and it took me forever to get to the address.

I frowned when I realized it was a warehouse. There wasn’t much around us, and I’d be highly surprised if the Jag was even still sitting on the street when I came back out. But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that my husband might be in there. Or at least, Brayden might know where he was.

Still, I hesitated. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

What the hell was Brayden doing in a warehouse in this part of the city? Everything about this screamed trouble. I tried to think of what was logical. What was best for me to do. I could call the detective and tell him I was here. But what if Brayden was right? What if someone was holding Ryland and they hurt him when they saw I’d called the cops?

I didn’t know what else to do. So I sent Brayden another text.

I’m here. Is it safe to come in?

My phone chimed almost immediately with an affirmative answer. It didn’t reassure me in the slightest. I wasn’t a complete idiot though. I knew there was no way I could go in there without some kind of backup plan, just in case.

So I texted Mick. He was due to land right about this time if I remembered correctly. I didn’t know what to tell him, so I forwarded Brayden’s texts to him and told him I was going to check it out. And then I decided to leave my phone in the car and turned on so he could track it if he needed to.

I stepped out of the car with clenched hands. It was broad daylight, and still, the thought of going into this warehouse scared the crap out of me.

I wanted to demand that Brayden come out. I decided that I wouldn’t actually go inside until I saw his face. So I started for the front doors.

They wouldn’t open, and there was no response to my knock.

I sighed in frustration as I walked around the building, looking for another way in. I found another door, just as a chilling voice spoke from behind me.

“Hello, Brighton.”

I spun around to be met with cold, black eyes. Eyes that were familiar, and it took me a moment to realize why. They were from the photographs in Brayden’s file. Alfredo Zucco.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He smiled, revealing a gold tooth.

“We haven’t met yet, you and I,” the man answered. “But I’m sure you might have heard of me. My name is Alfredo.”

I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to run, but somehow I knew I wouldn’t get very far. So I tried to stall while I came up with another plan.

“I know who you are,” I said coolly. “Where is Brayden?”

“You’ve created a bit of a media spectacle here,” he said with an amused laugh. “So it’s been a little difficult to get in touch with you until now. Brayden’s just inside.”

“I want to see him,” I demanded. “Tell him to come out here.”

Alfredo took a menacing step forward and grabbed me by the arm with a painful grip. “You’re just like your father,” he sneered. “Don’t know your fucking place. But you will before the day is through you Irish cunt.”

He raised his hand and backhanded me, completely shocking the hell out of me. I didn’t have time to fight before he started dragging me towards the door. I tried to scream, but he put his greasy hand over my mouth and grabbed me by the hair.

I clawed at his face with my free hand and raised my knee, aiming for his groin. I missed, and his eyes flared with hatred so fierce I couldn’t help but cower.

“I will punch you right in your fat fucking stomach,” he threatened.

“Just try me, bitch.”

I shook my head and pleaded from behind his hand, dragging in what little air he allowed me. I realized that it was already too late. I’d fucked up coming here, and now I needed to be smart. Or he was going to hurt my baby.

The door opened, and he shoved me inside where I met the eyes of another man I recognized. The same one that had been on the street the day Nicole and I went shopping. I’d thought Ryland had sent him, but I was obviously dead wrong. They each grabbed one of my arms and walked me through the dark warehouse, leading me to a stairwell.

As we descended into the bowels of the brick building, I feared that this was it for me. That I was going to die here. But I still held out hope that Brayden was nearby, and that he would put a stop to all of this. It was a ridiculous notion, but it was the only one I had.

Once we were on solid ground, the men walked me down another long corridor, and I shivered when I saw some of the rusty old equipment lying around. It looked like it was an old meat packing plant, and I was officially scared out of my mind.

They opened another metal door where there was a third man standing guard. I spotted Brayden across the room right away, sitting in a chair. His eyes widened in fear the moment he saw me, but it was the voice below me that had my heart leaping out of my chest.

“Baby girl. God, no. Please…”

I looked down to see Ryland sitting on the cement below me, his eye swollen shut and his face badly beaten. I shook the men’s hands off my body and immediately lowered myself beside him, clasping his face in my hands.

“You’re okay,” I breathed. “Oh my God, you’re okay.”

I was filled with relief, and so fucking happy. But Ryland wasn’t.

For the first time since I’d known him, there was real fear in his eyes. He pushed me behind him and shielded me with his body as he glanced up at Alfredo.

“What the fuck else do you want?” he pleaded.

“That depends.” Alfredo smiled. “How much is the little Irish bitch worth to you?”

“Everything,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve already told you. The rest of the shares? I don’t care. Name it, and it’s yours.”

Alfredo released a hearty laugh and pointed a finger at Ryland in amusement. “You see, Jacob. That’s why I like you. That loyalty. You would have made a great addition to my crew.”

Ryland didn’t look at all flattered by the compliment, and he tightened his grip on my hand as I clung to his body.

“But the thing is,” Alfredo continued. “I’m already loyal to someone else. I’m sure you can understand.” He shrugged. “It’s a long-term business arrangement. Can’t really back out on it now.”

“Whatever Robert’s offered you, it can’t be more than what I’ll give you,” Ryland said. “Anything you want.”

Alfredo looked insulted as he muttered something in Italian. “That wasn’t the deal we made six years ago, amico.”

The conversation I had with Ryland drifted back to my mind. He told me he’d paid Alfredo to spare our lives for seven years. The clock had slowly been ticking away, and we were supposed to have another year.

I glanced at Brayden across the room and snarled.

“How did you get mixed up in this?” I demanded. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Ryland squeezed my hand in warning, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off Brayden. Off the cause of all of this. It was his fault we were in this room. His fault that all of this was happening. I didn’t care if it was logical, I hated him for it.

“I’m so sorry, Brighton,” he whispered. “I thought… I thought I could change things. I didn’t know…”

“It’s just business,” Alfredo remarked flippantly. “I’m a man of my word. You two were dead that night Frankie fucked up. You should just be thankful for the six extra years this one bought you.”

I closed my eyes and pressed my face against Ryland’s back. I didn’t want to accept that this was it. But his words sounded so final.

Neither Ryland or Brayden was bound, and I wondered why. But when I glanced up at Alfredo and his companions again, I saw the guns strapped to their hips. There was no way out of here. Frankie had carved this path for us, and it couldn’t be changed. I pressed a hand to my belly as a sob escaped from me. And then I thought about Mick and hope bloomed inside of me like a ray of sunshine. I’d only been here ten minutes, so maybe if I could figure out a way to stall, then we’d have a chance.

“Where are your keys and phone?” Alfredo asked.

It took me a minute and Ryland squeezing my hand to realize he was talking to me.

I dug the keys out of my pocket and held them out while clinging to Ryland’s body. “The phone’s in the car.”

He turned to one of his men and gave him instructions in Italian.

When he walked out the door, Alfredo and his friend stepped forward.

“Alright.” Alfredo pulled his gun from the holster and waved it around casually. “Enough of the chit chat. How do you want to do this? You can all go together… real quick, bang bang bang… or one by one. Your choice.”

Oh, God. I was going to be sick.

“Please,” I sobbed. “Please don’t…”

Ryland stood and pulled me up with him. And then he gave Brayden some kind of silent signal before he pulled me into his arms, stroking my face in his palms.

“When Brayden tells you to run,” he whispered in my ear. “You fucking run, Brighton. I mean it. Don’t look back.”

I shook my head and clung to his body in disbelief. He made it sound like he didn’t plan on leaving with me. I had no idea what was happening, what they had planned, but I wasn’t leaving without either of them.

“I love you, baby girl.” His voice was hoarse, and there was finality in his words. “So fucking much.”

It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. He was shielding my body with his. I clung to his shirt and shook my head frantically. “No! It doesn’t end like this. It can’t end like this.”

I tried to look across the room, to see what Brayden was doing, but Ryland pulled my gaze back to him. “Just look at me,” he whispered. “Stay with me, just a moment longer. Never forget how much I love you.”

I didn’t understand his words. I didn’t understand what was happening.

“Now,” he barked.

I heard a pop, and then Ryland slumped against me before we both collapsed to the ground. There was something warm and sticky coming from his back, and I knew it was blood. I screamed, and I heard more popping, and then scuffling. Angry grunts and curses filled the room.

Alfredo sounded surprised and pissed off, but I couldn’t see what was happening.

Brayden said something, but I couldn’t hear it. Alfredo started talking in Italian. Blood rushed through my ears as I clutched Ryland, trying desperately to feel his heartbeat. I couldn’t move him, he was so heavy against me. His body was protecting me from whatever was happening around us, but I was too hysterical to understand.

I finally managed to get my head out from beneath him, just enough to see Alfredo’s companion lying dead in a pool of blood on the floor.

Alfredo was wrestling with Brayden, and he was bleeding all over the place.

“Brighton, run!” Brayden yelled. “Run now and don’t look back.”

I was frozen in horror. I couldn’t have run if I wanted to. But then Alfredo reached for his gun, pressing it directly to Brayden’s head. I screamed and pleaded, but he didn’t listen. Brayden’s eyes found mine from across the room, and he whispered something so softly, I could barely make it out.

“I’m so sorry. I was supposed to get you out of here. I failed. I’m so sorry, Brighton.”

And that was when I saw it. The gun laying on the floor next to the other man’s body. I didn’t know how to handle a gun- I’d never handled one in my life. But I lunged for it and pointed it at Alfredo, desperately hoping it would go off when I pulled the trigger.

The door burst open behind me, and I was so certain it was the third man coming to finish us off. I didn’t look. I just closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger. And I kept squeezing until every bullet had emptied from the chamber and there was nothing but the sound of empty clicking.

“Brighton.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and a voice that was calm and familiar.

Everything was blurry when I opened my eyes, but it was Mick’s face that I saw.

“Shhh…” He gently pulled the gun from my hands. “It’s okay.

Everything’s going to be okay.”

I looked across the room and saw Brayden struggling to sit up as he kicked Alfredo’s body away. And then my gaze swung to Ryland. I squeezed my eyes shut and begged for it to end. Begged to wake up from this nightmare.

I crawled towards him with heaving sobs and cradled his head in my lap.

“Help him,” I pleaded. “Help Ryland. You have to help him!”

I held onto Ryland and stroked his hair in my fingers, telling him how much I loved him. Telling him that everything was okay because we were together, and it was the only thing I could do.

Mick rattled off an address to someone on the phone and then kneeled down and rolled Ryland so he was completely flat. His eyes were closed, and there was blood seeping into his shirt. I let out a sob and held my hand against the wound as I felt for a pulse.

“You have to hold on, baby,” I sobbed. “You have to hold on.”

“The ambulance is on its way,” Mick said, moving my hand so he could apply pressure to Ryland’s wound. I let him, only so I could hold him.

I stroked his hair and pleaded with him to be okay.

He didn’t move. And I couldn’t look away from his face. I knew that Brayden was okay. I heard him trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t look at him. I could only look at Ryland. I couldn’t lose him. It wasn’t fair. We’d finally just gotten things right. We were finally okay.

“Please, Ryland,” I sobbed. “Please come back to me. You have to come back to me. I just can’t do this without you.”

I heard footsteps, and then the room filled with people I didn’t know. Police and medics rushed in, trying to pry me away from him.

“Please,” I begged. “He’s my husband. You have to save him!”

Mick came and pulled me against him, trying to calm me as they lifted Ryland’s body onto a board and carried him away.

“We have to go with him,” I cried. “We have to go now!”

A policeman ushered us towards the door, and then I paused one last time. I knew I shouldn’t look. But I had to see him. I had to see for myself.

I glanced back at the ground where Alfredo lay with hollow cheeks and lifeless eyes. There was blood everywhere, and his body was riddled with bullets. I had done that. I had killed him. And I was glad.

Chapter Forty

Brighton Three weeks, two days, six hours, and fourteen minutes.

Ryland laid in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, his hair perfect. I washed it and smoothed it into place for him every morning. His features weren’t relaxed or at peace, and that’s how I knew he was still with me.

The doctors had him hooked up to a bunch of machines. He wasn’t breathing on his own, and they kept trying to talk to me about his brain activity. I wouldn’t listen. I didn’t need them to tell me what I knew in my heart.

I reached for his hand and stroked the tattoo on his ring finger. Even now, we were in sync. That wasn’t a machine. That was something else.

Something stronger than medicine or science could ever explain. When he stuttered, I stuttered. When his heart beat, mine would always echo. It wasn’t even love. It transcended love. Ryland and I were something else entirely, and nobody could ever tell me otherwise.

I placed his palm on my chest and let him feel the rhythm beneath my skin.

“Do you feel that?” I asked him. “It still beats for you. I’m still here, waiting for you.”

He didn’t move or give any indication he’d heard me. But I didn’t expect him to. Ryland had been through so much in his life. He needed to rest. That’s all this was. I believed it wholeheartedly. He was just resting.

“I know you’re tired, baby,” I whispered. “But you can’t leave yet. I need you to come back to me when you’re ready. Because I can’t do this without you. I love you so much. You’re my everything. I need my husband, and our baby needs his father.”

Silence.

My calm resolve fractured, the same way it did every day. I missed him so fucking much. I needed him so much. Our baby was due in a month, and I was so scared that he wouldn’t be with me.

I hadn’t left the hospital in days. There was a media circus going on outside, just waiting for a photo opportunity. Ever since the news broke that the crime had taken place in a warehouse owned by Alex Burton, a lot of other information had started to come to light.

I guess Alex didn’t count on Alfredo failing or getting rid of our bodies and the evidence. He was a fucking idiot, and I’d unleashed Edith on him with everything I had. I’d hired private investigators, and Mick was sniffing around for me too. I had every intention of bringing the full force of the law down on him, and even that wouldn’t be enough. I finally understood Ryland’s desire for revenge. It ate at me. It swirled and twisted inside of me, consuming me from the inside out.

I wanted anyone who had anything to do with this dead. I wanted to see their lifeless expressions just like I’d seen Alfredos. I wanted them all buried in the fucking ground.

But I also knew it wasn’t healthy. If there was one thing I’d learned from all of this, it was that revenge and hatred could eat you alive if you let it. And if Ryland were awake right now, I knew he’d tell me as much. He’d tell me to be strong and keep my head focused on the things that mattered, like our baby.

So justice wouldn’t be exactly what I wanted. But there would be justice. I couldn’t sleep until there was. For the things that Robert and Alex Burton had done, all in the name of business.

Brayden told me that Ryland had made an agreement with Robert Burton. Shares of his company would go to Alex in exchange for my life.

And upon Ryland’s death, they planned to take over his company. But it was all coming out now, little by little. And the charges were racking up.

I’d never felt more relief than the moment Edith called me and uttered those words. That they had finally been arrested.

It didn’t change what happened to Ryland. There was a gaping hole in my heart, and I didn’t know if it would ever be the same. I had no choice but to move forward. To focus on each breath. Each task that needed to be done. I would do it for Ryland.

“Mrs. Bennett?”

I glanced up to see Dr. Kelly standing in the doorway. I tore my gaze back to Ryland and pretended not to notice. I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say.

“I’m glad I caught you.” He came into the room and stood with his chart, the same neutral expression on his face that he always wore.

I didn’t like him. I didn’t like that he had no faith in my husband or that he had no idea how much of a fighter Ryland was. That he would never give up on me. I hated his cold, clinical words and everything about him right down to his stupid white coat.

Dr. Kelly didn’t know I’d requested a specialist to come and see Ryland. I’d already set everything up, and he was flying in tomorrow. That was the benefit of being Ryland’s wife. Money talked, and I had plenty of it to throw around. I’d give it all away to the highest bidder that told me they could bring him back to me.

There were things that could be done in these cases. Things that could be tried. But Dr. Kelly didn’t want to try them. He told me it was all junk science when I’d begged him. And now he just lingered there awkwardly, waiting for me to take the bait. I wouldn’t. His words didn’t affect me anymore, and I was sick of hearing them. If it had been safe to move Ryland from this hospital, I would have. But for right now, I just had to stick it out. Like everything else.

“Look, Mrs. Bennett,” he spoke in a monotone voice. “It’s been a week since we last discussed your husband’s condition. There have been no signs of improvement, no indications I’m afraid. A decision needs to be made…”

“The decision has already been made,” I snarled. “I told you that last week. I’m telling you that today. I’ll tell you again next week. And the fucking week after that. Why are you badgering me about this?”

His lips flattened, and he looked down at me with pitiful eyes. As though I were a complete moron who just didn’t understand what he was telling me.

“We aren’t equipped to deal with long term care in this facility for cases like this,” he said. “So if you are committed to your decision, then I’ll have to advise you that he’ll need to be moved…”

All the anger inside of me boiled over at his tone and his careless indifference. He was talking about Ryland like he was a sack of potatoes.

And I was so fucking sick of his disdain. Of all of this.

“Fuck you!” I spat. “Fuck all of you! You don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t know what he’s survived. I can still feel him. He isn’t

gone. I don’t give a shit what you say because I feel him! He’s going to come back to me. He always comes back to me!”

Dr. Kelly took a step back from me as though I were a crazed animal, and Nicole ran into the room just in time to see me dissolving into hysterics.

“Brighton?” her voice was filled with concern as I collapsed against Ryland’s chest and sobbed against him.

“What did you say to her?” she accused.

I didn’t hear Dr. Kelly’s response. Because a sharp pain rippled through my back and down my abdomen, causing me to lurch forward. It felt like something was tearing inside of me, and I didn’t understand what was happening.

When I looked down at the hospital chair beneath me, there was blood leaking out from my pants.

“Oh God… something’s wrong.”

White hot pain speared through my body as spots filled my vision. I briefly saw Nicole and Dr. Kelly rushing to my aid before I slumped forward and everything started to fade away.

Epilogue Brighton I felt his fingers ghosting over the tattoo on my chest, and I smiled.

It happened so often that I thought I was going crazy. There were times when it felt so real, but he wasn’t there. It was like he was touching me from somewhere else, and it scared me. I was so afraid that one day I was going to wake up and it would all just be a dream. That I’d really lost him, and I’d imagined everything else somehow.

I blinked open my eyes and felt my heart stutter when I saw him staring down at me. I would never tire of looking into those beautiful eyes. I held his face and kissed him, deeply and passionately.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, baby girl.” He nuzzled against me and breathed me in. “So fucking much.”

Ryland had beaten the odds. He told me he always would. For me.

I understood his craziness now. I felt the same uncertainty he did every time I had to watch him walk out the door or drive to work. Fear had a permanent place in my heart, and it likely always would. It couldn’t be helped. But I made the most of every single second I had with him. I told him every day how much I loved him.

We were a crazy pair, and our poor son would likely not have any semblance of a normal childhood with the two of us watching over him. But I lived by a new motto now, and it was that there was no such thing as being too protective.

I’d seen the flip side. I’d seen what happened when you hoped for the best or left things to chance. I wouldn’t ever make that mistake again.

My son would be well loved and well cared for, and he’d be raised by fiercely protective parents who nobody would ever dare fuck with again.

He came into this world screaming.

When my placenta ruptured, I had no idea what happened. They rushed me into surgery right away, and Jacob Jackson Bennett was delivered four weeks early.

He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He looked just like Ryland, blue eyes and all. Sometimes when I looked at them, my heart was so full it hurt. I wouldn’t ever let anyone take them away from me again.

I knew Ryland felt the same. There were so many nights that one of us would wake up in a panic at three am, desperately seeking out the other just to know they were still there. That they were real, and they hadn’t disappeared.

We’d consume each other during those nights.

“I need you,” I whispered.

It was all I ever had to say. Ryland wrapped my legs around him and entered me with a long, contented sigh. I clung to his body like it was my lifeline, and he kissed and licked and worshipped me while he moved in time to the beat of our hearts.

This was our morning ritual. Our evening ritual. And our everything in between ritual. We stole every precious moment we could to connect like this. People said we were crazy for still being so in love. It was true. Our love was the craziest thing I’d ever experienced. It knew no bounds. It couldn’t be contained. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Come to the office tomorrow afternoon,” Ryland ordered, already planning out our next encounter. “I want to fuck you over my desk.”

His words had the intended effect, and I detonated around him with an explosion of color behind my eyelids. Ryland followed with a pained grunt as he fell to the bed beside me. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my face until his ragged breathing calmed.

“Who cares about tomorrow?” I teased circles around his chest. “We still have all afternoon.”

Ryland laughed and pulled me even closer, splaying his hand across my belly. I knew what he was thinking without even having to ask. He was worrying about what would happen in six months. When he’d learned what happened with Jake’s birth, he panicked and said we were never going to have any more.

Eventually, I got the doctor to convince him that it was going to be perfectly fine and that they would monitor me carefully just in case.

After the specialist had come to see Ryland, I was a believer in miracles. He’d found a way to help him. To bring him back to me. And while I would never really know if it was medicine or sheer determination, I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was he was there. *** “What do you think of this one?” Ryland asked.

I glanced at the paper in his hands and shrugged. It was my decision, but every year I’d left it up to him. Even though he’d never said so, I knew it was important to him. So I always let him choose who the foundation’s scholarship would go to that year.

“That was the one I was going to pick.” I smiled and leaned into his touch.

He was so warm, just like always.

He set the paperwork aside, and his hands wandered over my breasts while his lips grazed my chest. I knew what he was kissing. The place I’d been permanently marked, for him.

I’d gotten the tattoo of his and Jake’s heartbeats on our one-year wedding anniversary. Something permanent. Something nobody could ever take away from me again.

His hands caressed my face with a contented sigh as he kissed his way along my neck. Every once in a while his teeth would graze my skin, and then he’d make his claim on me. The darkness that would likely always be a part of Ryland was still there, but it didn’t overshadow him anymore.

He still had moments where the grief threatened to swallow him whole, but he knew how to control it now. And I could always tell when he squeezed Jake in his arms a little bit tighter, he was having one of those moments. If there was ever any claim that another man loved his son more than Ryland, you wouldn’t be able to convince me.

“What do you think we should name this one?” he murmured as he stroked my belly.

“Hmm…” I pretended to think on it as I stared out at the bay. “I think we should follow tradition. I was thinking maybe Anna Sophia.”

Ryland pulled my gaze back to his as he stared at me anxiously.

“We’re having a girl?”

“Yep.” I grinned.

He crushed me against his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. I’d snuck off to the ultrasound without him this morning because he always got too nervous while we waited for the baby’s heartbeat.

“Christ,” he grumbled. “Little girls are completely different.”

“You’ll do great,” I assured him. “Just like you do with Jake.”

“Speaking of…” Ryland smirked as the front door slammed shut.

Nicole and Matt had taken Jake to the zoo for the day, and judging by the smiles on their faces, it had been a good one. Jake bolted straight onto the back deck and snuggled up between me and Ryland.

“I pumped him full of sugar.” Nicole laughed. “I couldn’t help it.”

Matt shrugged and laughed. “God help our future children.”

He reached out and gave me a quick hug, followed by a handshake for Ryland. The two of them had grown surprisingly close over the last few years, and I was glad to see that Nicole was finally happy. It took her a while to accept that it was okay for her to move on, but Matt patiently saw it through. For the most part, everything in our lives had finally calmed down.

Norma-Jean was living in California now, and she was still sober.

Looking at her now, it was hard to remember the woman that she used to be. She had a job and was dating a nice man named Ted, who just so happened to be Ryland’s driver.

As for Brayden, we weren’t as close as we used to be and I didn’t know if that would ever change. In the end, he and Ryland had come together with a common goal. To protect me. They could be in a room together now without wanting to kill each other, but I couldn’t look at him the same way again, and he understood. Just as he’d never been able to look at me the same after that day.

I was no longer the naïve and frightened girl that I used to be. In the end, my blood ran true, and I became my father’s daughter. I killed Alfredo, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. Though he never said so, I knew Brayden didn’t like seeing that part of me. It crushed him that he failed me and brought me into that mess. That I was forced to embrace the darker part of myself.

But they lived in unison inside of me, just as they did in Ryland. Just as they did in everybody, really. The light and darkness were always there if you really stopped to look.

“Mama?” Jake tugged on my shirt to get my attention. “Can I stay with Aunt Nicole and Uncle Matt tonight?”

Nicole beamed the same way she always did whenever Jake looked her way. His looks and charm were all Ryland, with the bonus of a cute little dimple in his cheek.

Matt looked like he was about to panic, and I shot him a reassuring glance.

“Not tonight, buddy,” I scooped him up onto my lap. “We have a special surprise tonight.”

“We do?” Jake asked excitedly.

Ryland and I both looked at each other and laughed as Nicole pouted.

She didn’t know it yet, but the surprise was really for her. Because tonight was the night Matt was finally going to propose. ***

Thank you so much for reading THE BLEEDING HEARTS DUET. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. You can keep an eye out for my other book releases by following me on Facebook, or signing up for my Newsletter.

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Acknowledgments Dani Kermon, You are the peanut butter to my jelly. My sister from another mister. The fruit to my loop. The Tara to my Sookie. The cat’s pajamas…

Need I go on?

You’ve listened to my doubts, my rants, my obsession with fictional characters, and even my real life dramas.

The conversations we’ve had over the last six months have kept me sane and given me many good laughs and smiles along the way. I think you are ah-mazing and I’m so lucky to call you my friend.

Amy Halter, Thank you for being an awesome beta reader and for your constructive feedback on these books. You rock my friend!

Works by A. Zavarelli Falling Series CROW: Boston Underworld #1 REAPER: Boston Underworld #2 GHOST: Boston Underworld #3 SAINT: Boston Underworld #4 BEAST: Twisted Ever After #1 Tap Left An Escort for Christmas One Last Gift