Zoey did the last thing she thought she’d do today. She smiled. And then fell into the warm embrace of the two friends who’d brought her back from the darkest time in her life.
Chapter 13
Rhys woke up irritated, and the mood stayed with him for the remainder of his day, including through his dinner business meeting. Ever since Katherine, Rhys had stuck to the rules, lived by a moral code, and never broke away from that. He knew the risks with Zoey when he began breaking rules for her, but he hadn’t anticipated where his heart would be at the end of their time together. But now he knew. He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to keep exploring this amazing thing they had going on. He knew there was something special about her the night he met her, and he’d been fooling himself into believing he controlled any of this. It didn’t matter if a day had passed, or a month, or a year, he wanted her.
Needing to get his head on straight, he called the guys over. The men currently sitting around him on his patio next to the pool had been there when Katherine died. They’d all seen him break down and cry. For the last hour, he admitted everything. Including that, while throwing out his rule book for Zoey, he’d also throw her his heart.
“Fight for her,” Archer said, sitting across from Rhys.
The sparkling lights of New York City glistened across the dark sky behind him, but any light in Rhys felt diminished. “It’s not that easy.”
“Why?” Kieran asked, a glass of whiskey resting on his thigh. “It is that simple, isn’t it? Ask her to stay. Ask her to move in. Make it a big deal for her, she’ll like that.”
“And then what happens after I do that?” Rhys countered. “I tell her to stay in the one place where she is reminded constantly of what happened to her? She doesn’t trust New York City. Her fear lives here.”
Hunt, who’d been relatively quiet so far, said, “Then, make it safe for her. Do whatever you have to do. Tell her that nothing will touch her in this city. Not when she’s with you, and while you’re at it, you get that fucker, Jake, put behind bars.”
Rhys wanted to do all that and so much more. “I can’t make that choice for her, and you all fucking know it.” He grabbed the whiskey glass and polished off his drink, embracing the burn in his throat. “If I did, I could expect one outcome. That she’d lose herself like Katherine did. That she’d change and morph into a person who could survive being here. She’d push all that trauma down for me. I can’t do that to her. I won’t. She has to decide this for herself.”
A telling silence descended onto the patio. One filled with a hard truth—Rhys had no control here. He rubbed his face, easing the twitchiness of his extremities. Then he focused on Archer, hoping he could look at this through a different angle. “Has anything further come from helping Hilary?”
Archer shook his head, reaching for his glass of scotch on the coffee table. Before he took a sip, he answered, “Not yet. It won’t be a quick process. Hilary found Zoey by chance. Finding other victims won’t be so easy. There’s no obvious trail on the web, like there was with Zoey. It’s a tiresome process, and an invasion of privacy since Hilary will have to make contact the same way she did with Zoey.”
“Stay with it,” Rhys countered. “If there is a way for me to get this handled without directly involving Zoey, then that’s the path to take. The only plan forward is getting Jake out of the picture so New York City feels safe to her again.” To Hunt, he added, “Any word on Scott’s suicide?”
“Nothing much there, except that it’s officially been ruled a suicide,” Hunt replied.
Kieran’s head whipped around to Rhys. “You suspected foul play?”
Rhys shrugged. “I would not have put it past Jake if he thought Scott would oust him.”
“He’s dirty enough to do it,” Archer agreed, swirling the ice in his drink.
“Possibly,” Hunt said after a moment of consideration. “But there was no evidence in Scott’s apartment of foul play and tons of evidence pointing to suicide. Coroner has ruled it a suicide, and the case is closed.”
On one hand, that was good news. If Scott’s life was investigated, no doubt Zoey’s story would come out. On the other hand, Jake still roamed free in New York City. Rhys blew out a frustrated breath and reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring himself another shot as his cell phone rang. After he answered, his condo’s security said, “There is a Ms. Parker to see you.”
“Send her up,” Rhys said, ending the call and sliding his cell back onto the glass coffee table. “Zoey’s on her way up.”
Archer rose. “And that’s our cue to leave.”
Rhys threw back the shot, appreciating the warmth in his veins, the lessening of the tension in his chest. “Thanks for dropping by and being a sounding board.”
Hunt slapped Rhys on the back. “We’ve got you, buddy. You know that.”
Yeah, Rhys did.
They said their goodbyes after that, and Rhys stayed on the patio furniture and watched them leave through the tall windows of his condo. Before Archer headed out the front door, he opened it a little wider, and Zoey entered. She wore jeans and a dark-green blouse, the same color as the lingerie she’d worn the first night he met her. She exchanged words with Archer and a short laugh, then her gaze flicked to the windows. She nodded at Archer before she headed toward the patio doors.
The second she stepped outside, Rhys knew he was going to hate what came out of her mouth.
“Hey.”
The single word had never sounded so sad.
He remained rooted to the couch as she slowly walked toward him, her hair fluttering in the warm breeze. Christ, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
She stopped in front of him, regret in her gaze. “I—”
“Need to move home,” he finished for her, his voice barely controlled. He wanted to beg her to stay. To not leave him. But New York City was toxic to her, and he couldn’t be a part of the problem. He’d seen Katherine fade away into nothing. This environment, maybe seeing Jake at functions she’d come to with Rhys, would do just that to her. He couldn’t watch her fade away. Zoey needed to flourish.
Something he could see written all over her face when she said in a small voice, “This is a really confusing thing because I don’t really want to leave. There’s Hazel and Elise, and…you.”
He rose, moving close, drawn to her. All along, the plan had been for her to go, but now, the plan was blown to shit. Because he knew one thing for certain: her heart was meant for him. “You deserve to go home and start over, Zoey.”
She took a step forward, bringing herself even closer. “I didn’t expect to feel like this.”
The warm breeze fluttered around them as he cupped her face. “Feel like what?”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said so easily.
That’s what caught him up too. Things between them were too easy. Too real. Too right. “I never expected this either. Never expected I would want you to stay.”
She gave a lopsided smile. “And yet here we are.”
He smiled gently, not wanting to put his own wants on her. “But this also isn’t goodbye either, just like I’m sure it’s not goodbye with Hazel and Elise. You can visit, can you not?”
“Yes, I can visit.”
But it won’t be enough echoed in the space between them.
She added, “And you can come see me, too.”
“Easily done,” he agreed. But I’ll never want to leave.
Every word he spoke felt odd coming from his mouth. He wanted her here. With him. To see every day. To kiss. To make love to. To laugh with. To explore. To enjoy. Anything else felt…wrong.
She tipped her head back, hitting him with those warm, affectionate eyes. Their gazes held for a beat. “I won’t ever forget what you did for me, Rhys.”
He gathered her in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling like the moment she left him tonight, she’d take his heart with her. And with that realization, Rhys knew Archer was right. No ma
tter what, Rhys had to fight for her. “I will never forget you either, Zoey.”
Desperate to hold onto her for as long as he could, he dropped his mouth to hers. Her lips molded to his in a gentle kiss, but when he angled her head and deepened his embrace, he knew everything had changed. That he had changed, and she was the reason for it.
Needing to get closer to her, he gathered her in his arms and brought her inside, into his bedroom, laying her out on his king-size bed. He knew they weren’t done. Not even close. He knew that, even if she walked away, he’d chase her. And with a slight amusement, he understood what he should have known all along: he still wasn’t done breaking rules for Zoey.
He hovered over her, the lights from the skyscrapers outside his window casting a warm glow across her face. She leaned her head up, offering herself and fisting her hands on his shirt. “Don’t wait.”
The same urgency rushed through him as he hurried to get her naked. Between the hot kisses, he removed his shirt and she had his pants down and was yanking him forward with her hands caressing his ass. He went willingly, lifting her legs up underneath his arms as he slid deep inside her. He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. She was tight, wet, and he wanted to stay there forever. “How are you so fucking perfect, Zoey?”
“Rhys,” she said, her voice nearly begging.
He lifted his head, met the desire burning in her eyes, and began moving slowly, letting her feel every single inch of him. There was no show tonight. No star. No one else watching. Only her and him, and yet this was the most intimate, addictive sex he’d ever had.
Every brush of her lips against his, the way she hugged him, he couldn’t possibly get enough. Her breasts were soft beneath his chest, her moans the only sound registering. She smelled like vanilla and ripe woman, and he was certain the scent was handmade for him. He leaned against her legs, lifting her bottom higher, and thrust his hips, burying himself deep without any barrier between them. Her soul shone through her eyes, and his reached out, encasing her entirely, and he knew he had one final rule to break. He wanted breakfast in the mornings. He wanted her soft curves next to him when he went to sleep. He wanted this. Always. Just them. He wanted to hear her laugh. He needed her arms around him on tough days. He wanted to hear more of her stories and understand the way her heart worked.
Passion drove him to thrust harder, faster, until she moved with him and they set a rhythm that blended their moans. Skin slapped against skin as he filled her, took all of what she offered him, and he still wanted more. Her nails dug into his back as her feet locked on his thighs, her drenched sex constructing with every thrust.
Tighter…tighter…wetter… And when her screams of ecstasy washed over him, he went nearly cross-eyed at the pleasure her body gave him. He thrust forward, coming with a roar and emptying himself inside her. He knew nothing from this night on would ever be the same again.
And that’s exactly how he wanted it.
Chapter 14
Nine days had passed since Zoey moved back to Sacramento. Each day felt longer than the last. She had turned on autopilot the moment she got on the plane to come home. She’d only brought a few suitcases and still hadn’t arranged for a moving company to bring her boxes home. Slow. That’s how she’d been taking all this. One step then another until her head wasn’t so cloudy and making decisions was easier. Knowing it wasn’t going to happen tonight, she grabbed the bowl of popcorn off her parents’ kitchen counter and headed for the living room.
Her childhood house was a gorgeous two-story Victorian on the corner of Meadow Lane. Her parents had bought the property when Zoey was only two years old, and they’d spent Zoey’s entire life renovating it from top to bottom. Zoey’s favorite part of the house was the living room with the old stone fireplace and big bay window, where her mother always put up the Christmas tree. Only this time, as she entered the living room and found her dad sitting in his usual recliner, something felt off. Wrong. She kept thinking that, after she moved home, she’d feel more settled. But that lump in her throat was baseball-size now, and she could no longer swallow it away. She felt tired and edgy, not sleeping much, missing Hazel and Elise…missing Rhys and the new life she’d discovered with him.
Trying not to drown in her confusion, she tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Whatcha watching tonight?”
“Unsolved Mysteries,” her dad said, flashing her a smile. Though, at the moment, a news story was on.
He’d always been a handsome man. Fit and healthy, her father looked closer to forty than his actual age of fifty. He had blond hair that barely showed his grays, and light-blue eyes that always lit up when her mother came around.
And they presently glistened as her mom entered the room, carrying a big bag of salt and vinegar chips; her dad’s favorite. “Don’t eat the whole bag,” she mused.
Her dad just smiled. “Thank you, honey.” He promptly dove into his chips, his attention turned back to the television.
Her mom shook her head at him and sent Zoey a soft, sweet smile as she sat on the couch. She had a short bob, the same strawberry-blond color as Zoey’s. But her mother’s eyes were brown. Zoey got the hazel from her grandmother. “Find yourself a guy who is this easy to make happy.” Whatever crossed Zoey’s face, warmed her mother’s smile. “Was Rhys like that?”
Zoey had told her parents all about Rhys. Well, minus the part where he owned a sex club. She kept enough secrets from her parents, and Rhys was too incredible to be a secret. “He never really asked for anything.” But he gave so much back. Zoey’s heart swelled, feeling fuzzy in all the right places. Rhys hadn’t really asked for anything at all. He’d simply been there for her. She understood why now, of course. He couldn’t bear to watch anyone lose themselves like Katherine had lost herself. And yet…and yet…over the last days she’d been without him, she felt lost. “That’s what’s really so great about him,” Zoey added, diving her hand back into the bowl of popcorn. “He’s a very selfless guy.”
Her mom smiled. “He’s a good one, then. Is he planning to come out and visit?”
They had talked every day since she moved. They texted often. “I don’t really know. We haven’t discussed it much.” Rhys, while affectionate and warm, hadn’t spoken about what came next for them.
“Bet he’s got a plan,” her dad said.
Zoey lifted her brows at her father. “What makes you say that?”
He glanced over with his clever smile. “If he hasn’t talked to you about what’s happening next, he’s figuring it out and forming a plan. That’s how men work.”
“What plan could he possibly be forming?” Zoey countered. “I left him in New York City.”
Her dad stuffed his hand in the bag of potato chips and focused back on the television. “I’m no psychic, Zoey. I’m just telling you how men work. They don’t discuss things. They make a plan and execute it.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” her mom said to him. To Zoey, she added, “If it’s meant to be, honey, then it will be. No sense fretting about it.”
Zoey agreed with a nod, falling right back into autopilot. “I do know that Elise and Hazel are planning to come visit soon. You’ll finally get to meet them.”
Her mom’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s wonderful.” She reached for the yarn and her crochet hook in the basket next to her. She made blankets for all the new babies who came to her practice. Zoey had once imagined doing that for the sick animals when she became a vet. The lump in her throat felt impossible to swallow once more, and she took a long sip of her sweet tea, as her mom said, “You’ve had all these people in your life, and it’s been so strange not to know any of them.”
Truth was, Zoey had meant it that way. She’d kept everyone at a safe, comfortable distance. Her home life and her life in New York City had been a world apart, and that’s how she liked it. Blending the two felt dangerous.
“Any luck on the house hunt today?” her dad asked.
Zoey shook her head, nibbling on a p
opcorn kernel. “Nothing feels quite right.”
“Ah, you’ll find something soon,” he said. “Just needs to be the right house.”
He turned back to the television, and the sound of crunching potato chips had Zoey smiling. He was totally going to eat that whole bag. The only plan she had made was to get into Phoenix, get the money, and come home. But being home wasn’t working. It felt good to stay with her parents; everything was so familiar and warm. But at home, her friends weren’t there. Rhys wasn’t there. Her life wasn’t here. And no matter how many houses she and her mother looked at, none of them were a good fit. Everything felt wrong, and that made no sense.
With a sigh, she shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth, tasting too much salt, and watched the news, grateful for something to distract her thoughts. A breaking-news report caught Zoey’s attention. The female reporter said, “The I80 rapist has been arrested earlier tonight, our sources tell us.”
“Oh, thank goodness they found him.” Her mom turned to Zoey and explained, “You probably didn’t hear about this in New York City, but for the last couple weeks, this evil person has been terrorizing women along the I80. He set up a trap at truck stops and kidnapped them.”
“Those poor women,” Zoey said, a slow coldness beginning to creep into her veins.
“Good police work,” her dad commented. He clicked off the news report and turned on Unsolved Mysteries.
The person being interviewed on the show said, “There were so many warnings. So many signs, so many incidents. Had we been paying attention earlier, it would have been obvious Carl was dangerous, but no one spoke up.”
Zoey felt the walls begin to creep in on her. The two stories were completely unrelated to each other, but they felt intimately connected to her. Like the world was trying to tell her something.
This time, she listened.
Scott was gone, but Jake wasn’t. He still lived in Manhattan, still hadn’t changed if he assaulted Hilary and showed absolutely no remorse. What if Jake escalated and turned into a rapist that kidnapped women? What if he’d already done that? He’d been so cold when he knew she was watching. The arrogance and hatred had been blinding. With a cold shiver, her heart asked: What if your silence hurt another woman? What if he becomes more violent and kills someone? What if you could stop it?
Watch Me (Phoenix Book 1) Page 13