“Of course it wasn’t a game. It was my life, my freedom. We all have things in our past we’re not proud of. Maybe I was too bull-headed; maybe it was foolish to think I could outrun my mistakes. But you don’t know what my life was like before. My father can be . . .” Tears slipped from my eyes, and I took a moment to compose myself.
My only form of rebellion had been dating Troy. When I’d discovered he was running a high-profile executive drug ring, I’d dumped him and moved out. But then two of his “friends” raided my new apartment, looking for the money he owed them—or anything they could pawn to make up the difference. My ex was in some big trouble that wasn’t likely to blow over anytime soon.
But since Dad had never approved of him anyway, I wasn’t about to go running to him for help. What I needed was a do-over, far away from Oklahoma City, and a good guy on my side, especially when I heard on the news that Troy had been found dead. And according to Dad’s stories, there was no better man than Nolan.
I told him everything, starting with the night we’d first met at the bar. God, I’d been so scared, so sure he’d see right through me. Every detail of our time together rushed back with resounding clarity.
“I might have come here for a calculated reason,” I finished, “but trust me when I say . . . that changed. The way I feel about you is real.”
His face, his kiss, his generous soul, even his maimed heart—everything about Nolan made my skin tingle and my heart race. None of that had been fake.
He gave a disparaging grunt. “How do I know you’re telling the truth right now?”
But he was still listening, so I kept rattling on. “I figured that if I could befriend you, win your trust, I could call on you in case my trouble followed me to Texas. I knew your instincts and training would kick in. You wouldn’t let anything happen to the vulnerable single woman you’d befriended.”
He grunted, acknowledging that was probably true.
“I’m sorry . . . so sorry, for everything.” I sobbed, repeating the words over and over again.
Nolan didn’t say anything. He just stood there, listening, watching me.
“Go shower,” he finally said. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
He was right; I was exhausted, even if the clock on the wall only read eight o’clock. But as badly as I wanted sleep, I needed to know where I stood with him. Where we stood.
“Why didn’t you ever sleep with me?” I wiped the tears from my cheeks, my eyes pleading with his for answers of my own.
Confusion drew a line between his dark brows. “What do you mean?”
“Daniella said that if you hadn’t slept with me yet, it meant you had real feelings for me.” Please, God, let it be true.
“Daniella doesn’t . . . ,” he started to argue, then stopped. His teeth sank into his lower lip and his tortured gaze met mine. “It never seemed right. You weren’t the kind of girl I was used to. I couldn’t imagine using you that way . . . holding you down . . . fucking you hard until you screamed. Is that what you wanted?”
My heart thumping in my chest, I stepped closer. “You won’t break me, Nolan.”
His chin cut to the side as he studied me, not missing a thing. My dilated pupils, my nipples forming hard points in my bra.
“This isn’t going to end well,” he said.
“You don’t know that.” My voice was firm, drawing on an inner strength I didn’t know I had.
“Go shower,” he commanded again.
Balling my fists at my sides, I stood as tall as I could. “I needed protection. Falling in love with you was never part of the plan.”
I could have sworn I saw a flash of emotion in his eyes. Sympathy? Relief? I wasn’t sure, because as quickly as it had appeared, he’d blinked and it was gone. Replaced by that vacant mask he so often wore.
Before I broke down in tears again, I hurried into the bathroom and undressed. Then I stood under the steaming hot water and cried myself sick.
I’d fallen in love with Nolan . . . just as I’d made sure that he would never be able to love me back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nolan
I watched the bathroom door swing shut. As soon as I heard Lacey turn on the shower, I stomped into the kitchen and poured myself a shot of whiskey. I wanted to punch the wall until my knuckles bled . . . or maybe just sleep for a week. But for now, a stiff drink would have to do. With Lacey safe and temporarily occupied, I finally had time to process everything that had happened tonight. All the secrets that had come to light.
It was in the silence of my kitchen that everything crashed around me. I was in love with Lacey. I couldn’t fight or deny the feelings soaring through me. Yet the woman I loved had used me.
Why hadn’t she just told me she was in trouble? If she had been honest with me up front—like I’d been with her—I probably would have helped her out. But she hadn’t even given me the chance to decide. We had dated for weeks, growing closer by the day, and she somehow never found a good time to air out her past? Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention my ex ran a drug ring and now his goons are tailing me, and my overbearing father is your boss.