by HELEN HARDT
Connie Wolfe had always been able to spin a tall tale.
My head began to swim, and in an effort not to fall down, I grabbed the closest thing—a large branch of the rose bush.
“Ouch!” A thorn pricked my finger.
A bead of blood oozed onto my flesh. It grew larger, larger, until it dripped down the length of my finger in a tiny red river.
Blood.
How well I remembered blood. My virgin’s blood staining the white sheets on my bed. My father whisking them off and then ordering me to cover the bed with clean linens.
I was eight.
Fucking eight years old.
Eight years old and in searing pain. My face stained from tears as I walked outside my bedroom to the closet near the end of the hallway. I grabbed what looked like a new set of sheets and brought them back to my room. I did my best to re-make the bed, but within a few minutes I realized the sheets were too big and my arms were too short.
I fell asleep on top of the mass of linens and woke the next morning, still throbbing in pain.
No one came to help me. Not my mother, for certain, and when I got home from school the next afternoon, my bed had been made and was stretched taut with clean linens.
The new sheets were brown.
Brown sheets for a little girl.
I hated them, but it wasn’t until I was a few years older that I hated them even more. The brown would hide any blood. Once dried, it was the same color as the sheets.
The stream of blood continued onto the palm of my hand.
Finally, I blotted it away with the fake handkerchief from my grandmother.
Nice move, Mom. Did you even look at the design on this thing?
Next was the wake at the Waldorf.
I wouldn’t be able to avoid people there. I’d have to speak to them, and I’d have to listen to them tell me how much they admired my abusive father, how much they’d miss him, how much he’d done for them and for humanity at large.
He built a lot of luxury hotels, casinos, resorts. So yeah, he created a lot of jobs. He also gave huge amounts to charity, including his own foundation. So yeah, he helped others.
Just not his own.
Everything and everyone was more important to Derek Wolfe than his children.
Especially his daughter.
I shook my head. Guilt swam through me. My brothers had also suffered at his hands. All three of them. But by their own admission, they’d never been sexually abused by the man. Beaten to a pulp, sure. But never raped.
I winced even as I thought the word.
I never let myself say it, write it, even think it, while he was alive.
Now?
Even though I winced, even though I felt the nausea rising in my throat once more, I could think it.
Raped.
My father raped me.
My father stole my innocence.
My father stole my soul.
And now, the wake.
I could bail. My brothers wouldn’t blame me. They’d understand. I could easily sneak out to a side street and call a cab to take me anywhere.
Anywhere…
Back to Montana.
Back to Matt.
Perhaps I should never have left.
I could be happy now, in Matt’s arms, drinking coffee at JoJo’s, sharing a meal at Trudy’s, walking the main streets of Sumter Falls and saying hello to everyone I’d met.
But I gave that up. For my brothers.
And ultimately, for Matt as well.
He deserved better than a broken and soulless woman who was still a tired little girl.
He deserved better than me.
I drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My cut had clotted, and I shoved the blood-stained handkerchief into my purse.
Flashing back once more to the blood-stained sheets.
Damn!
How would I get through this?
How would I get through the rest of my life?
Therapy. I’d promised Roy I’d call his therapist, Dr. Woolcott. But I’d break that promise. I already knew.
I was beyond help.
So beyond help.
I walked back into the church. Only a few mourners remained. The church ladies were taking down the altar decorations.
“Ms. Wolfe,” one of them said, “are you okay?”
“Of course she’s not okay,” another admonished. “Her father is dead.”
I smiled weakly. I was far from okay, but not because my father was dead. In fact, his death made me more okay than I’d been since I was six years old.
Still, okay was far from the right word to describe me.
Broken. Violated. Completely fucked up.
Take your pick.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Excuse me.”
A giant hummer limo had brought us to the service. I walked swiftly out the front entrance. A few people still lingered, but the limo was gone.
My brothers had left without me.
I grabbed my phone out of my purse. It was on silent for the service, so I hadn’t heard the ding of Rock’s text.
Sorry, Sis. We have to go. See you at the Waldorf. By the way, a friend of yours is with us.
I wrinkled my brow. A friend? Did I even have any friends? I hadn’t paid attention to anyone at the service. All the faces were blurred to me.
“Do you need a ride, Riley?” someone asked.
I turned. A young man stood there. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Fox Monroe,” he said. “We did a shoot together about six months ago.”
“Fox, of course.” I didn’t offer my hand. “Thank you, but no. I have transportation.”
“Good enough. See you in a few.”
Transportation. I walked quickly to the subway stop. Today I didn’t want to be Derek Wolfe’s daughter. I wanted to be another faceless person on the subway.
34
Matteo
The Wolfes sure knew how to throw a party.
A champagne fountain. Seriously. With real vintage champagne. So my question was…with this kind of cash, why did Riley Wolfe rent my little cabin in Sumter Falls, Montana? She could have stayed at the poshest hotel in Billings.
And speaking of Riley, where was she?
Crowds of people stuffed caviar into their mouths and sipped champagne from the fountain. Riley’s brother Rock stood next to me.
“You seem like a fish out of water here, Matt,” he said.
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Only to another fish out of water.”
I cocked my head. “You?”
He chuckled. “This is not my scene at all.”
This time I dropped my jaw.
“Surprised?” he asked.
“Uh…yeah. You’re a Wolfe. You were raised in luxury.” But he’d also lived in a small biker town near Helena, Riley had told me.
“For the first fourteen years, yeah. But luxury—at least luxury in the Wolfe household—has its price.” He cleared his throat. “How do you know Riley, anyway?”
“She stayed at my cabin earlier this week.”
Rock raised one eyebrow. “What? She stayed where?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Hell, no. None of us knew where she was. Where’s your cabin?”
“A small town in Montana. Sumter Falls.”
His eyes softened. “Fuck. Montana.”
“You know Montana.” I didn’t inflect my voice, as I already knew he did.
“Montana’s my home, man. It’s a long and boring story.”
“It doesn’t sound boring to me.”
“Damn. She went to Montana,” he said more to himself than to me. “Good for her.”
“I’m not following.”
“Like I said, it’s a long and boring story.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I’m sure you are, but unfortunately I have to mingle with Daddy’s mourning public. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”
“But Riley—”
“She’ll be along. Give her a break. Today is…tough for her.”
“I know that. I’m sure it’s tough for all of you. Losing a parent isn’t easy for anyone.”
“True that. But not necessarily for the reasons you think. Excuse me. Help yourself to whatever you want.” He walked away without smiling.
I reflected on his words.
I have to mingle with Daddy’s mourning public.
Had that been a note of sarcasm in his tone?
Sure seemed like it.
Was this all for show?
Was this—
All thoughts in my head ceased.
In the doorway stood my dream.
Riley.
And she met my gaze.
Her jaw dropped. She turned and ran back out the door.
Like a jackrabbit, I sprang after her. She stopped at the elevator and frantically pushed the button.
Until I covered her hand with mine. “Baby.”
She gazed at her feet as I took her hand, brought it away from the elevator button and to my lips, and kissed it.
Then she finally looked at me, those deep brown eyes so full of pain.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“H-How did you find me?”
“Are you kidding? How could I not find you, Riley? I…” I gathered every last morsel of courage I possessed. “I love you, baby. I love you.”
“You love Riley Mansfield. Not Riley Wolfe. Riley Wolfe is…a mess.”
“She looks pretty good from where I’m standing.”
“Matt, please…”
“Please what?”
“You have to go. You don’t belong here.”
“At the Waldorf? Drinking champagne to honor your dead father? Maybe not.” A wave of sadness swept through me. “I come from a humble background, which you didn’t seem to have a problem with a few days ago.”
She shook her head vehemently. “That’s not what I mean. Those last few days were… God, Matt, they were heaven, but they belong to someone who doesn’t exist.”
“Riley Mansfield. I get it.” I trailed a finger over her perfectly sculpted cheekbone. “I’d already figured out you weren’t who you claimed to be. You’re not that good an actress.”
Her eyes widened.
“Of course, all I knew is that you weren’t a business ed teacher in Philly. I didn’t guess you were a supermodel and heiress to a billion-dollar fortune.”
She smiled weakly. “I can’t imagine anyone could guess that.”
“Remember when we were in the flower shop and Kari said you looked familiar?”
She nodded.
“She found photos of you in one of her fashion magazines. I did some quick checking and found out your father had recently died. I know you came to me for an escape, Riley, and I sincerely hope I helped. I’m so sorry.”
“You did help. You helped a lot. But those days were a fantasy for me, Matt. They’re not something I have the luxury of keeping.”
“Sure you do. I’m here. Now. And I want to be with you.”
“Because I’m rich.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I curled my hands into fists. “You don’t mean that. Tell me you don’t.”
“Why else would you travel almost two thousand miles to find me?”
“Seriously? I just told you, Riley. I love you.”
“You haven’t even known me a week.”
“So?”
She shook her head. “No one falls in love in a week. Except my brothers, apparently.”
“What?”
“Rock and Lacey, and then Roy and Charlie. They fell in love quickly.”
“There you go, then,” I said. “It’s possible.”
“But not for me.”
“Are you saying you don’t love me?”
A vise squeezed my heart.
Yes, that’s what I’m saying, Matt. I don’t love you.
Those could very likely be the next words out of that gorgeous mouth of hers, and I braced myself. Steeled myself. Because they might very well knock me on my ass.
“No,” she finally said. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
The vise around my heart loosened but still maintained a good grip. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. “What are you saying, then?”
“I’m saying you don’t love me. You don’t love Riley Wolfe. You didn’t fall in love with Riley Wolfe. You fell in love with Riley Mansfield, and she’s an illusion.”
“She’s not an illusion. She’s standing right in front of me and she’s just as beautiful as I remember her.”
“Only on the outside,” she said.
I grabbed both her cheeks, her skin warm against my palms. “Damn it. I don’t fall in love with paper dolls. I fall in love with good hearts. And I love you, Riley. I love you so much.” I crushed my mouth to hers.
She opened briefly, and the sweetness of her tongue against mine filled me with hope…until she pushed at my chest and broke away.
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Why? We had so much fun together. We made love, Riley. Are you saying it didn’t mean anything to you?”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds and inhaled. Then, “I wish I could lie to you, Matt. It’d make things a lot easier for you. But I can’t. I’m done lying. And the truth is that it meant the world to me.”
Again, I breathed a sigh in relief. “Do you love me?”
She closed her eyes once more.
“It’s a simple question, Riley. Either you do or you don’t. Either way, I can live with it. If you do, we make a life together. If you don’t, we can begin a relationship, see where it leads. You already said your time with me meant the world to you, so we have a foundation. We have a start.”
She bit her lower lip. “That’s the problem, Matt. We don’t have a start.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t want me.”
“Bullshit.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know—”
“Stop.” She placed two fingers over my lips. “Just stop. You know what the internet tells you. That’s all you know.”
“I know you’re a mess right now because your father died. I know you’re mourning.”
“See?” She shook her head, her lips trembling. “That’s just it. You don’t know me at all. I’m not mourning. I’m glad the asshole is dead!”
35
Riley
I pounded on the elevator button once more. I drew in a breath, except my lungs didn’t expand. No air went in, and my heart pounded like someone was punching to the beat of a bass drum.
“Damn!” I cried. “Come on!”
“Easy.” Matt took my hand from the button once again. He didn’t kiss it this time. Instead, he covered it with his own and then entwined our fingers together. “Let me help you. Please.”
I shook my head. “No one can help me.”
“I can.”
Maybe he could. Indeed, he already had. Those few days in Montana had been bliss. Bliss I’d never felt in my young life.
A man who wanted me, who treated me well. Who was tender with me. Who gave me a rose. Who wanted to give me a beautiful pendant.
And I’d rebuffed him.
Was it possible? Though I hadn’t been around to witness it, both my brothers had fallen in love quickly, and they seemed happy.
Bullshit. No “seemed” about it. They were happy. Blissfully happy, despite the turmoil in our lives. Despite being persons of interest in our father’s murder.
Could I be happy with Matt?
God, yes, I could.
I did love him. No two ways about it. I was hopelessly in love with Matteo Rossi.
Which was why I couldn’t drag him into this clusterfuck.
But I was done lying, so the truth tumbled out of me.
“I do love you, Matt. I do.”
That gorgeous smile split his sculpted face.
“But—”
This time he placed two fingers on my lips. “No buts. Whatever it is, we can handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to handle anything. Loving me shouldn’t be like serving a sentence, but I’m afraid that’s how it would be.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I already love you, and I can’t change that. What’s more, I don’t want to change it, Riley. I want to be with you. I want to make a life with you.”
“We barely know each other.”
“So we get to know each other. Who says we have to run out and get married tomorrow? We take our time. Learn about each other. Make love with each other. Enjoy each other.”
I sighed, resisting the urge to melt into his arms. “You don’t know how much I wish I could do all of that.”
“You can.”
“I—”
Rock walked toward us quickly. “People are asking about you, Ry.” He turned to Matt. “Good. You found her.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You two know each other?”
“We gave him a ride in the limo,” Rock said. “We waited as long as we could for you. Where have you been?”
“I…took the subway.”
“The subway?” Rock laughed. “Good for you.”
Matt stared at both of us quizzically, one eyebrow cocked.
“You want to come into the ballroom?” Rock asked Matt. “We’ve got enough expensive food and booze to feed a fucking army.”
“Already been,” Matt said.
“Come back in, then,” he said. “Ry and I have rounds to make.”
I went rigid. “I don’t want to.”
“I know, Sis. I know. But we have to.”
“Why does she have to?” Matt asked. “It’s obviously bothering her.”
“She shouldn’t have to,” Rock said. “None of us should have to, but we don’t have a choice.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Matt said.
I drew in a deep breath and forced my body to regain my model-like posture. “He’s right, Matt. There are things you don’t know. Things you can’t know.”
“I don’t accept that.”
Rock met Matt’s gaze then. “You have to accept it. You don’t have a choice. You obviously traveled a long way to see my sister, so I’m not going to make you leave. You’re welcome to come back to the wake.”
I sighed again. “Okay. I’m ready. I’m coming.”