The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(73)

He came to a stop less than a foot in from of me, running his thumb and index finger along his scruffy jaw line. His proximity unsettled me in too many ways to count. God, he looked amazing. I wanted to touch him, taste him, and slip my hands under his black shirt.

“I’ll follow you.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have time for this. I have plans.”

His metallic gray eyes narrowed, a confusing complexity of emotions swirling in his eyes. “Where are you headed?”

“It’s none of your business, but I need to stop by my professor’s office to pick up some books.” I raised one eyebrow and smiled. “I had to drop my classes since I missed nearly a month of school, but I’d still like to graduate by the end of the summer.”

“I’ll join you.”

“Do I have a choice?”

He smirked. “No.”

I rolled my eyes even as my skin trembled with awareness and my heart bled with a ruthless concoction of anxiety and lust. “Glad to see some things never change.”

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, f*ck 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 f*cked 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.”