A jumbled mess of disjointed thoughts twisted through my mind as Ryker and I strolled to my car in silence, neither of us making any attempt at conversation. Words weren’t needed. We both knew he could force me to go with him. We played this game in Mexico many times. I didn’t need a refresher. It should frighten me to be alone with him, especially when I had started to rebuild my life again. Too bad I was powerless to resist him.
Powerless because of my attraction to him.
Powerless because we both knew he could overpower me…make me do what he wanted.
Powerless because I’d never stop wanting him.
I pulled my key out of my pocket, but he grabbed my hand. I frowned. “What?”
“We’re taking my car.” He snagged the key, stuffed it in his pocket, and pointed to the black Mercedes Sedan parallel parked in front of my car.
“No thanks. I’ll follow you,” I hissed.
He smirked as he brushed the back of his knuckles along my face. I ignored the tingle down my spine and the pebbling of my nipples. It didn’t mean anything. It was a chemical reaction, nothing more.
“Nice try. You’re driving with me. We have things to discuss,” he murmured, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he found me utterly amusing.
I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head. “No, we don’t.”
He leaned his hip against his car. “Please, Hattie.”
I wanted to yell at him, fight him. Then, he cracked open the passenger door of his car. I stared at him, unmoving for a few beats. For weeks, I wanted nothing more than to spend time with him. To talk to him. To be near him. Now, I had the chance.
“Fine,” I mumbled. No matter the emotional distance I erected between us, it disintegrated whenever I saw him.
He tucked my seatbelt around my body and fastened it. “Here,” he said, holding out my key.
“You’re already giving it back?”
The corner of his lips quirked up almost imperceptibly. “I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner.”
“Thanks,” I whispered. I sucked air into my nose as his car pulled away from the curb and into the early afternoon traffic.
“Talk,” I said after three minutes as I tapped my fingers on my leg. The anticipation of our conversation was killing me, second-by-second, minute-by-minute. His smell surrounded me, slowly driving me crazy with each inhalation. I scoured my mind trying to remember all the reasons I shouldn’t want him, but none of them seemed to matter when I was with him.
“I heard you broke off your engagement to Evan.” It was a statement, not a question.
“So?” Heat flooded my face. I didn’t want him to think I did it because he told me to.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like him. I won’t marry him. I’d rather be alone.”
“You need to get back together with him.”
I whipped my head toward him. What the hell? “Excuse me. Did you just tell me to get back together with Evan?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what you’re going to do, preferably this afternoon. The sooner, the better.” He didn’t sound like Ryker. His voice was clipped, cool, and polite, like we were complete strangers. Ice crept through my veins. He subjected me to his sudden mood changes too often in Mexico, and I was sick of them.
“You’re giving me whiplash. A week ago you kissed me and told me to break off my engagement, and now you’re telling me to crawl back to him.” I pointed at him, my finger trembling. “Well, fuck you. I don’t want Evan. I never will.” I swept the sweaty strands of hair away from my face. “And you know what? I don’t want you either. Leave me alone. I’m done being a pawn in this fucked up game.”
All the emotions taunting me for the last few weeks bubbled to the surface, and I was livid. I had enough. I wanted to tear my hair out, beat my chest, or throw a tantrum worthy of a two year old—anything to stop the madness clamoring inside my head. As his car slowed to a stop at a traffic light, I reached for the door handle.
“Don’t even think about it.” He yanked my hand away from the door. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“Guess what?” I taunted, my nostrils flaring. I felt like my head would explode any second as rage burned through my veins. “This isn’t Mexico. We’re not in the middle of the jungle. The Vargas Cartel doesn’t have any power here, so stop telling me what to do.”
“Dammit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “This isn’t a joke, Hattie. You have to get back together with him.”
“Tell me why?”
“I can’t—”
“Of course not. Why would things change now? Why would anyone give me answers? Is this some sick and twisted game? Fuck with Hattie until she checks herself into a mental hospital.”
He cocked his head to the side. “No. I’m still trying to protect you.” He lowered his voice. “I’m always trying to protect you.”
“If this is how you protect me, I’d hate to know what it feels like when you stop.” I dropped my head into my hands. “Do you know what I’ve gone through since I got home? Do you have any idea?”
“Hattie,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sorry it has to be this way. I’m sorry about everything. If I could change what happened to you, I would.”
Acid seared the walls of my throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’ve lost control of my life, and it kills me. I hate myself. I hate who I’ve become. And you know the icing on the cake in this whole fucked up charade?” He shook his head. “Until last week, I thought I was pregnant. Can you imagine what a fucking disaster that would’ve been? I still haven’t had my period.”
“Pregnant?” he said, his voice distant and threaded with frost.
“Yeah, pregnant. In case you’ve already forgotten the details, we didn’t use protection.”
“I didn’t think—”
“Right. You didn’t think. I didn’t think. That’s the point. Neither of us was thinking. In fact, nobody is thinking about what’s good for me anymore. They only care about how they look and what they want.” I white-knuckled the side of my seat, squeezing so hard; I was surprised my fingernails didn’t puncture the buttery leather. “Evan thinks I’m being selfish. My mom thinks I need to honor my commitment to Evan. You think I should get back together with Evan. Fuck, even Senator Deveron called to tell me he thinks I’m behaving impulsively.”
He turned off the car ignition, and I stared out the window, studying the gray walls of the parking garage.
“Hattie.”
“Leave me alone,” I said without heat because I was tired. Tired of my life. Tired of this back and forth. So tired I could feel the bags growing under my eyes. “Please. I can’t do this anymore.”
He grabbed my hand. “Look at me.”
“What?” I turned to look at him. Was that regret or exasperation lurking behind his hooded gray eyes?
“You’re right.”
Glaring at him, I asked, “Right about what?”
“Everything. Nobody has considered you in this whole mess, including me, and I’m sorry about that.” He combed his hands through his inky black hair and shifted his gaze forward. The overhead parking garage lamp lit up one side of his face, half dark, half-light, just like Ryker. “You don’t have to get back together with Evan. I’ll find another way.”
My brows furrowed. “You’ll find another way?” I echoed. “Another way to do what?”
Need and tenderness were etched into the hard angles of his face. Ryker brushed a thumb over my lips, and my lungs constricted. “To do my job and still keep you safe.”