The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(102)

His eyebrows scaled his forehead, and he raised his hands in the air. “What the hell?” He wiped the back of his hand across his lips.

“You started it.” I snatched the marble coaster off the coffee table and held it up next to my head, prepared to strike if he came one inch closer to me. “Leave me alone.”

Rever shook his head. “I can’t believe Ignacio tolerated you in his home for more than a few hours.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t smother you at birth,” I countered.

The front door flung open. “What the hell are you two doing?” Ryker said, pausing near the entrance.

My head snapped to the side, then I eyed the coaster in my hand. “Trying to kill each other.”

Rever snorted, his shirt and face still dripping with water. I smirked, and a laugh bubbled out of my mouth. We looked ridiculous. We were ridiculous.

“She started it,” Rever said, a wide smile on his face as he pointed his finger at me.

I folded my arms across my chest and tapped my foot on the hardwood floors. “I did not.”

Ryker rolled his shoulders back and knitted his brows. “Rever, I told you to stay away from her.”

Rever held up his hands. “Don’t be mad at me. She’s the one who took off to do God knows what the minute you walked out the door.”

“She’s not a prisoner.” Ryker’s eyes flickered to me as he shrugged out of his black leather jacket. “But a note or call would be nice, Hattie.”

Blood heated my face. “I’m sorry. My mom wanted to meet.”

“Rever, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?”

“My pleasure,” Rever said, practically running out of the room.

When the door to Rever’s room closed, Ryker sat in the gray lounge chair. “What happened with Rever?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a second. “Nothing really,” I finally answered. “We were tossing insults at each other.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And water?”

My lips twitched. “Yeah, that too.”

He nodded. “What did your mom want?”

My eyes darted around the room, landing everywhere but on him. “Don’t worry. I took care of it.”

“No more secrets, remember?”

I drifted forward and sat on the arm of his chair. “I know.”

“Then, tell me what you’re hiding,” he said as he pulled me into his lap.

I stared at him for a second, deciding what information I wanted to reveal. “She wants me to go on a weekend getaway with my family and Evan’s family next weekend.”

His arms tensed around my waist. “What’d you say?”

“Do you even have to ask?” I flicked his chest. “Of course I didn’t agree. Evan fed my dad a pile of psychobabble bullshit and now she’s freaking out.”

Ryker tipped up my chin. “About what?”

“That I’m suffering from Stockholm syndrome and that’s why I rejected him. I think they planned some sort of intervention during the vacation.”

He tensed, and shadows flashed through his eyes. “Do you think that’s a fair assessment?”

We sat awkwardly, staring at each other, words singeing the tips of our tongues. I had so many answers to his question, but I feared breaking our truce. Finally, he nodded. “You do.”

I shifted, and my legs straddled his waist. “I can’t deny the thought has crossed my mind. More frequently in Mexico than recently.”

He winced, then lifted me off his body, placing me on the armrest again. Wordlessly, he stood and crossed the room.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He pointed to a white bag next to the door. “I bought you some clothes if you plan to stick around for a few days.”

I cocked my head to the side. “If I plan to stay?”

“It’s up to you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

I took a few cautious steps closer to him and placed my open palm against his chest. “You’re mad.”

“No.” He grimaced as he shook his head slowly from side to side.

“We promised not to lie or keep secrets.”

He blew out a breath. “I’m not asking you to lie to me about how you feel.”

“Then, what?” I asked, searching his face.

“I don’t know, Hattie.” He backed away from me, and my hand slipped from his chest. “I have some stuff to do. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He cracked open the door. “There’s food in the refrigerator for dinner.”

“What the hell is wrong? What did I do?”

He glared at me, his veins vibrating in his neck. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I’m sick of the back and forth.”

His harsh tone slashed at my heart. “Back and forth?” The anger radiating from him prompted me to take a step back. We eyed each other, sizing each other up like two boxers in a ring.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. One minute you want this, and the next you’re running away. Pushing me away. Throwing every roadblock you can come up with in my face.”

“Ryker.” I held out my hand to him. “It’s complicated.”