The Driven Series

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The Driven Series Page 48

by Bromberg, K.


  “I’m looking for Ry. It’s Colton.”

  “Who?” she shouts and I wince from the sound coming through the phone.

  “Colton.” My patience is about to run out. Why the fuck is Ry not answering her phone? And where exactly the hell are they?

  “Who? Oh hey, Colby!”

  What? I stop pacing and grit my teeth. What the fuck is going on here? “Who’s Colby?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were Colby.”

  “Not hardly,” I say, jaw clenched, anger bristling. Whoever the fuck Colby is, he’s going to wish he wasn’t Colby if I find him trying to talk to Ry again.

  But this is just for sex. Yeah, that’s it.

  “Who?”

  And now I feel like I’m being fucked with. Does Ry not talk about me? Does whoever this person that’s close enough she trusts to answer her phone not know who I am? Impossible.

  You called pit stop, fucker. No rings, no strings. She can do what-the-fuck-ever she wants. So why do I want to punch the mirror in front of me?

  I force a swallow down my throat, hating that I care if she’s talking about me and hating that I don’t care even more. Fucking Christ. I’ve been voodooed. Fucking sucked in by her magic and I never even knew it.

  Uneasiness and disbelief crawls up my spine. I shake it off. No fucking way. There’s no way I’ve been taken by her goddamn pussy. Time to prove it.

  “Colton Donavan,” I say, authority in my voice. Time to quit playing fucking games here.

  “Oh, hiya, Colton, this is Haddie. Rylee’s roommate.”

  Thank Christ, we’re finally getting somewhere. “Hi, Haddie. I need to talk to Rylee.” Need to? Why the fuck did I say I need to? I don’t need anything from her.

  “Mmm-hmm. Well look, she’s a little drunk right now and a lot busy, so she can’t talk to you, but I’d like to.”

  Drunk? Rylee? In a club on a weeknight? I’m so not liking the images in my head right now. Images like the fucking commercial I’m about to debut. Bodies grinding. Hands groping. Sexy clothes.

  I can’t help the groan that falls from my mouth and fuck if Haddie doesn’t hear it because she laughs at me. Fucking laughs. I grind my molars and hope no one is grinding on Ry right now.

  “So here’s the deal. I don’t know you very well, but from what I do, you seem like a decent guy. A little too much in the press from your shenanigans if you ask me as you make jobs like mine a little harder, but hey, no press is bad press, right? But I digress …”

  “Thanks for the PR consult. Don’t think I asked.” I roll my shoulders as I look at the signatures of past guests on the walls and shake my head in frustration. Be nice. She’s the only way you’re going to find out what the fuck is going on. “Are you guys having something to drink with dinner?” I seriously just asked that? Fish much, Donavan? And then that laugh of hers again as if the joke’s on me.

  Fuckin’ A.

  “Wine for starters, but now we’ve moved on to shots. Tequila. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you really need to get your shit together when it comes to Rylee.”

  Wait a minute. Tequila? Images flash in my head of the last time I saw Ry doing a shot of that shit. It was after she left me at the Merit Rum party. Stood at the bar, downed the shot like a goddamn pro, and then ran from me. My dick pulses at the memory of what came next though: possession, claiming, some of the best fucking sex of my life.

  “Yes, I was talking to you, Colton.” She misunderstands my silence. Must think I’m not listening but instead am thinking of what it was like to see Rylee naked for the first time. Soft skin. Perfect fucking tits. Sinking into her. Hearing that sigh? Goddamn perfection.

  So why the fuck is she in some club and not here with me? Because I called a damn pit stop. Motherfucker. I shake my head, the barrage of questions I want to ask fill my head but never have the chance to come out.

  “I. Said. You. Need. To. Get. Your. Shit. Together,” Haddie repeats, annoyance and don’t-fuck-with-my-friend in her tone. But hell yeah, I want to fuck her friend. I start to speak, shout at her so she can hear me above that goddamn music, but she cuts me off.

  “Rylee’s a game changer, babe. You better not let her slip through your fingers or someone else is going to snatch her right out from under your nose. And from the looks of the sharks circling tonight, you better kick that fine ass of yours into high gear.”

  Sweet Christ! This is a one way conversation and yet I’ve just been knocked speechless. Sharks circling. Those fucking innocent eyes of hers and body that screams of sin put on display for others to watch. To touch. To want.

  Fuck. Me.

  “Where are you guys?” I’m about ready to blow off Kimmel, repercussions be damned. “Where?” I demand again.

  “Like I said, she’s quite busy right now choosing which guy will buy her next drink, but I’ll let her know you called.”

  “Goddammit, Haddie! Where the fuck are you?” I bite the words out, ready to leave. To go get her. Claim her. Anything just so I can feel her again. Can have the peace she brings me again.

  Because this is just fucking. That’s all it is.

  I shake my head and talk to Haddie as if I’m fucking trying to persuade myself. “You know what? I don’t care where you guys are. She’s a big girl. Can do her own thing.” Jesus Christ, if you’re gonna lie, at least make it sound convincing.

  “Uh-huh, yes. I know, but I just thought you ought to know. Game. Changer,” she says, like I’m a fucking two-year-old. As if I don’t already know it. As if I didn’t already cause this fucking situation because I called a pit stop to convince myself otherwise.

  “Oh and, Colton? If you make her fall, you better make damned certain you catch her. Hurting her is not an option. Understood? Because if you do hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me, and I can be a raving bitch!” Her taunting laugh fills the line. “Good night, Colton. I hope to see you around once you figure your shit out. Cheers!”

  I go to speak, to participate in the conversation that’s just fucked with my head more than it already is, and I hear a goddamn dial tone. What the fuck? Did I actually just get an ultimatum? As if I don’t know I have shit to figure out.

  I stare at myself in the mirror as I toss my phone on the counter and shake my head at my reflection.

  Fucking hell.

  Game changer? Like I didn’t already know that.

  Goddamn women.

  I roll my shoulders and audibly exhale.

  Holy shit … I’ve been voodooed.

  What the fuck am I going to do about it now?

  “THAT SOUNDS GREAT, AVERY. ALL of the paperwork has been approved by HR, so I’d love to welcome you to the team. We’ll see you next Monday.” I hang up the phone and grab a pen, crossing that item off of my list. New girl hired, check.

  Now, if I can just get the rest of my list completed. I glance at my week’s schedule in my day planner, ignoring the inevitable date that looms tomorrow, and figure I can power through my “to dos” as I have no more shifts at The House this week.

  That is if I can get motivated.

  I have no one to blame for my lethargic pace this morning except for myself. Well and Haddie since she instigated the fourth, or was it fifth, bottle of wine. At least my headache has abated some so I can think without the hangover pounding in the background.

  I grab the pile I’ve been avoiding, budgetary crap that takes too much time and in the end just gets overruled by the bosses upstairs, but I need to get through it. I sigh in fortification when I hear a tap at my door. I swear the next few moments take place in slow motion but I know they didn’t.

  When I look up, I cry out loudly and jump up in shock as I meet eyes that mirror mine. I round my desk and run full force into the arms of my brother. Tanner wraps them around me, spins around once, squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe. All of the fear over his safety, anguish over not hearing from him, and loneliness from not having him near, vanish and manifest themselves in the tears that run
down my cheeks in happiness.

  He sets me back down on my feet and eases his hold on me, but I cling to him tightly and bury my face in his chest needing this connection with him. When I can’t stop crying, he just holds on and kisses the top of my head. “If I knew I was going to get this kind of welcome, I’d come home more often,” he says before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back, his eyes searching mine. “What is it, Bubs?”

  I smile at hearing the name he’s called me our whole lives. I think I’m in shock. “Let me look at you,” I manage, stepping back and running my hands over his arms. He looks a little older and a lot tired. Fine lines fan at the corners of his weary eyes, and the creases edging his mouth have deepened some in the six months since I have seen him last. His copper hair is a little longer than usual, curling up at the collar. But he is alive and whole and in front of me. The wrinkles make him more attractive somehow, adding a little ruggedness to his dynamic features. “Still ugly I see?”

  “And you’re even more beautiful,” he recites, an exchange we’ve said at least a thousand times over the years. He holds out my arms to look at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe I am standing in front of him. “God is it good to see you!”

  I grab a hold of him again and laughter bubbles up. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re in the states?” I pull on his hand, bringing him into my office, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

  “I flew in to San Diego and stayed with them last night. I’m leaving for Afghanistan this afternoon on a sudden assignment—”

  “What?” I just get him back and now he’s going to leave me again. “What do you mean you’re leaving again?”

  “Can you leave? Go to lunch with me and we can talk?”

  “Of course.”

  Tanner’s only request for his meal is that it be somewhere he can see and smell the ocean. I drive up the coast, deciding to take him to the beachside restaurant Colton took me to on what I consider our first date. It’s perfect for him.

  On the drive Tanner explains to me that he had taken a last minute week off to come home and visit us from his post in Egypt covering the unrest there. Once home, a fellow colleague had fallen ill and so now his trip was cut short so that he could head back to the Middle East to cover for him.

  “So you flew all the way out here for two days just to see us?” I take a sip of my Diet Coke and stare at him. We’re seated on the same patio where Colton and I ate just a couple of tables to the right. Rachel wasn’t working but the hostess that is, heeded our request and set us out of the way from the steady flow of the lunch crowd.

  Tanner just looks at me and smiles broadly, and I realize how much I’ve missed him and the calming effect he can have on me. He tilts his bottle of beer up to his lips and leans back, looking out at the waves beyond. “God, it’s good to be home.” He smiles. “Even if it’s just for a day.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” I tell him, afraid to take my eyes off of him for just a second since my time with him is so fleeting.

  Over food, we talk about the things going on in our lives. He tells me all about his living conditions and the things going on in Egypt that aren’t making their way into the mainstream media. I learn he is casually dating another journalist but that it’s nothing serious despite the softening of his features when he speaks of her.

  I love listening to him. His passion and love for his job is so apparent that even though it takes him thousands of miles from me, I can’t imagine him doing anything else.

  I tell him about work and Haddie and everything in between. Except for Colton. Tanner can be a bit overprotective, and I figure why even mention something that I’m not sure even is a something. I think I’m doing a damn good job of it until he tilts his head and stares at me.

  “What?”

  His eyes narrow as he studies me. “Who is he, Bubs?”

  I look at him perplexed, like I don’t understand, but I know his investigative instincts have kicked in, and he won’t back down until he gets the answer he wants. Hence why he’s so good at his job. “Who’s who?”

  “Who’s the guy that’s got you tied up in knots?” He takes a draw on his beer. A smirk on his lips, his eyes never leave mine. Cocky son of a bitch. I just sit there and stare at him wondering how he knows. “Spill it!”

  “Why would you even think that?”

  “Because I know you that well.” When I just fold my arms over my chest, he laughs at me. “Let’s see, you are purposefully avoiding the topic rather than talking about it. You’re twisting that ring around your damn finger like a worry stone. You keep biting the inside lip of yours like you do when you’re trying to figure something out, and you keep looking at that table over there like you expect someone to be sitting there. Either that or you’re remembering something that you and he did there.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “Besides, you have a fire in your eyes that’s been missing since…before,” he muses, reaching out, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “It’s good to see.” I smile at him, so happy that he’s here. “So?”

  “There is someone,” I say slowly, “but it’s confusing and I’m not sure what it is yet.” I twist my ring around my finger and don’t realize I’m doing it until Tanner raises an eyebrow at me. I stop immediately and give him the gist of things without giving him Colton’s name. “He’s a great guy, but I just think he’s not looking for anything more than dating without commitment.” I shrug, looking out at the scenery before looking back at him, a hint of tears in my eyes.

  “Shit, Ry, any guy that makes you cry isn’t worth it.”

  I bite my bottom lip and look down at the napkin I’m shredding mindlessly. “Maybe if he makes me cry it’s because he is worth it,” I say softly. I hear him sigh and I look back up at him. “It’s a first step at least,” I whisper with a trembling voice.

  The compassion in his eyes almost undoes me, breaking the hold I have on the tears burning in the back of my throat. “Oh, Bubs, come here,” he says, turning my chair and pulling it toward him. His pulls me into his arms where I just hold onto him, the one person I can always count on.

  I close my eyes, my chin resting over his shoulder. “I know why you’re here, Tan. Thanks for coming to make sure that I’m okay.”

  He squeezes me one more time before holding my arms and pushing me back to look at me with concerned eyes. “I just wanted to make sure with everything going on this week…I worry about you. I had to be here in case you needed me,” he says softly. “So that if she calls, I can deal with her.”

  A surge of love rushes through me for my brother who has just flown halfway around the world for a day to make sure that I’m okay. It’s hard to fathom the brother I grew up with, who I fought like cats and dogs with, has turned into such a thoughtful, caring man now. That he wants to deal with the fallout of the inevitable phone call I will receive from Max’s mother tomorrow.

  I reach up with both hands and hold my brother’s cheeks and smile at him. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have you for a big brother?” Tears glisten in my eyes as I kiss him softly on his cheek. “You’re the best, you know that?”

  He smiles, uncomfortable with my affection for him. I stand up. “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.” I start to leave the table and then without thought turn back around and grab him in a quick hug, wrapping my arms around his shoulders from behind as I stand behind him while he’s sitting.

  “Whoa, what’s that for?” He laughs.

  “Just because I’m going to miss you when you leave.” I release him just as quickly as I hugged him and walk into the restaurant. The kitchen door shuts quickly as I walk past it toward the bathroom at the far side of the dining area.

  When I emerge from the bathroom, I am preoccupied watching an adorable curly haired toddler trying to use a fork. One hand instinctively moves to rest on my lower abdomen and presses there. The pang hits me harder than usual watching her, and I can only assume it’s because of what tomorrow’s date signifies. The anni
versary that took everything from me. Robbed me of the one thing I want more than anything in the world.

  The one thing I would give up everything—everything—I have, if I could only have the chance again.

  I’m so wrapped up in memories that I don’t notice the commotion toward the patio until I hear, “What the hell are you doing?” It’s my brother’s voice, and it takes me a couple of seconds to maneuver around the tables to try and get in the line of sight of our table.

  “The lady’s with me, asshole. Keep your hands to yourself. ”

  My heart stops.

  I’d know that rasp of a voice anywhere. I rush quickly to the doorway, my pulse pounding and incredulity in my expression. I emerge out onto the patio to see Colton’s hand fisted in the front of my brother’s shirt, his jaw clenched, eyes full of fire. Tanner, who is still seated, is looking up at him, a smarmy look on his face. His shoulders are rigid, hands clenched quietly at his sides. The testosterone is definitely flowing.

  “Colton!” I shout out.

  He glances over at me and locks onto my eyes, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and aggression vibrating off of him. Tanner glances over at me, an eyebrow arching in question, his tongue tucked in his cheek.

  “Colton, let go!” I demand as I stride toward him. “It’s not what you think.” I pull on his arm, and he shrugs out of my grasp, but he finally releases his hold on my brother. My heartbeat slowly decelerates. Tanner rises from his seat and squares his shoulders to Colton, an indiscernible look on his face. “Ace, meet my brother, Tanner.”

  Colton’s head whips over to look at me, annoyance and hostility giving way to recognition. I can see a myriad of emotions flickering through his eyes: relief, discomfort, irritation.

  I look at my brother, still unable to read him. “Tanner, this is my…” I falter, unsure what to label him. “Meet Colton Donavan.” I watch Tanner as his synapses start firing, realizing who is standing in front of him. Who I’m dating.

 

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