Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(85)

And she’s swollen from crying.

“I’m fine. I thought it was food poisoning, but it’s an allergic reaction. I think. My eyes keep watering and swelling and—”

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” I pull her against me and almost sag with relief when she not only lets me but slides her arms around me and clings tightly. This—her in my arms—is a million times better than listening to her lie to me or letting my imagination about her being bored with me take hold.

Because something is wrong.

Majorly wrong.

But there’s nothing I can do to get it out of her, and holding her like this—her letting me pull her against me—if this is all I can get, then I’ll take it. Anything she needs right now is hers.

Her body shudders as she cries. I can feel the heat of her tears against my chest. The desperation in the grasp of her hands. The defeat in the sag of her posture.

“What’s wrong?” I murmur against the crown of her head, the subtle scent of her shampoo filling my nose.

She just shakes her head and hiccups another sob. My hand smooths down the back of her hair, and the other pulls her against me, the only way I know how to comfort the unknown.

“Vaughn?”

She doesn’t respond.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, baby, but we’ll get through it. You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me.”

She nods for the first time.

I don’t know how long we stand there on her porch with my arms wrapped around her and her face buried in the underside of my neck, but eventually she steps back. Those aqua eyes of hers are red rimmed and filled with so much confusion, and I hate that there’s not a single goddamn thing I can do to help her since she won’t tell me what’s wrong.

“I’m here, Vaughn. Use me if you need to. Let me help you.”

She just shakes her head as if she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

“Please.”

This time she nods and whispers, “Thank you.”

The door clicks shut, and the deadbolt turns in, all without my ever having stepped foot inside her house.

I don’t know how long I stand there and stare at her door, but I do.

My need to fix and know and take care of her is stronger than my will to leave her to suffer silently through whatever it is that’s troubling her.

Losing Lucy. Something with Brian. Fucking Carter Preston. An issue at Apropos or with Wicked Ways. Maybe all the talk about her uncle has thrown her for a loop.

I wish I knew the answer.

Fuck, how I wish I knew.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Vaughn

I know Ryker doesn’t leave for a long time. He stands at the door and then sits in his car in the driveway for even longer.

That in itself tests every ounce of strength I have not to fling the door back open and tell him everything.

But I can’t.

I can be weak with Ryker. I can let down my guard. I can be the woman no one else gets to see because he makes me feel secure enough when we’re together.

And how he just reacted? Coming here because he was worried and then silent when he knew something was wrong. Comforting when I’m more than certain he wanted to shake answers out of me. It was everything I needed him to be and then some.

There’s no way Ryker is a part of this payoff with Carter.

No damn way.

A man capable of being that devious wouldn’t have come to my door twice in one day to make sure I’m okay simply because I said I wasn’t feeling well. A man that full of deceit would be glad I was out of the way so he could carry on scheming and fucking me over.

I’ve spent my whole life being screwed over by men or watching those I love be screwed over. I’ve spent so much time forcing myself to go at it alone because I thought I was better off for it.

And now, just as I’ve finally found a man I love and trust—because we’ve worked through our issues, regardless of how unconventional those issues may be—I’m left with the rest of my life beginning to fall down around me. I have Carter after me. I have the FBI threatening me and telling me Ryker isn’t trustworthy. I have Brian telling lies to try to extort money.

At some point, I have to shut the white noise out. I have to trust my own instincts. I have to allow myself to rely on others. I have to believe in myself and have conviction in my own opinions.

I have to realize that no matter how damn hard the fight might be—how much it might scare me—it’s time to fight it with both fists and everything I’ve got.

If I don’t, I just might lose everything, and that’s not an option.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and see the concerned look in Ryker’s eyes before he left, and deep down, I know the truth. Ryker might be a bastard in court, he might be a hard-ass who demands without reason, but at his core, he’s a man who lives his life by the law. He doesn’t need money. He doesn’t need the thrill of defying the rules.

He had nothing to do with this.

The question is, Was it just Carter, or is his wife in on it too? Did she hire Ryker as a front, a place to hide the money? And if so, how would she ever expect to get it back?

I give a deep sigh and settle back into the silence of my house, which is full of unanswered questions these days.

With another good cry under my belt, I know exactly what I need to do.