I seriously consider falling to my knees in front of him and giving him my own going away present. Then it occurs to me that he's busy and doesn't seem to be in the frame of mind for anything beyond trip preparation. All of his attention is focused on packing suits, underwear, socks, T-shirts, shorts, and tennis shoes into a small suitcase.
Knowing it's nearly time for Ryker to leave me and meet up with the bitch on wheels Eden, I—suddenly insecure and melancholy—pry myself from my seat and wander aimlessly around the suite's living area while Ryker stays knocking around the bedroom and bathroom. When I see a book sitting next to a chair, I take a new seat, kick off my shoes, and prop up my feet.
This is where I suspect I'll spend the night. Intriguing to me is the potential to explore the inside of Ryker's mind by researching his favorite book types. In fact, understanding his preferred genre, author, protagonists, and antagonists will be comparable to discovering the songs he loaded to his iPod under favorites.
The hardback he has dog-eared is NOS4A2 by Joe Hill. I vaguely remember hearing about the book's author. He's a famous author's son, if I'm remembering correctly. I open it and begin reading. I've made it through the first ten pages when I glance up and see a Ryker that is every bit as disappointed as me standing in front of my chair.
It's time for him to leave and the thought of our separation sickens me. I halfheartedly smile up at him and put the book back down. "I hope you don't mind. It might help with the boredom."
Ryker shakes his head. "Not at all. Joe Hill may be more talented than his father. I think you'll enjoy it... but you should know it's a horror story. I don't want you to be scared while you're here all by yourself."
"I'll be fine," I mumble, and it's clear to me that his departure can't be prolonged another minute. When I stand, I find that he's so close to me that I can see my reflection in his eyes. Then I say, "I'll walk you out to your car."
Without hesitating, Ryker leans down and kisses me. Then he pulls me into his chest, kissing me harder and running his hands up and down my back like he's trying to memorize every last muscle. Everything about Ryker's good-bye kiss, embrace, and emotions is warm and tender and loving. My searing heart races and squeezes tight.
It's at that very instant that I realize I will be able to love again, and this kind and gentle man before me will be that person. Based on everything I know about him and the ecstasy I've felt during our most intimate moments, I'm confident I'll eventually love Ryker more than I've ever loved Colt. I want to break our kiss and tell Ryker just that, but before I do, my common sense kicks in and reminds me it's too soon.
There'll be plenty of time later for us to profess our love to each other. Besides, I want it to be beyond romantic... while we're making love so that our moment of release is even more intense and our declaration will be remembered for a lifetime.
Sinking deeply into Ryker, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him longer and harder than he's kissing me. I'm squeezing myself into his every crevice and offering him anything he wants. I can literally feel how difficult it is for him to pull away from me when he does.
"Jesus, Bay! I want to call this trip off, take you into that room, and fuck you every way a woman can be fucked," he says, and his voice is hoarse and trembling.
I tilt my head up and challenge him. "Do it."
Ryker watches me, and I know he's thinking about taking me up on my offer. Based on his heated stare, he's made his decision, and it's one that will have me stripped naked and underneath him within the next few minutes. I'm on fire from my bellybutton down and am just about to slide my hand down and feel him when his phone rings.
The hypnosis I just had over him dissipates with the ping of the cell. He pulls back, slips the phone from his jacket pocket, looks at the message, and mutters, "I-I've got to go."
If he weren't as frustrated as me about having to leave, I'd keep trying to convince him to stay with me. I don't do that because he's going to go anyway.
I'm not Eden. I'll never give him ultimatums, make him feel guilty for doing what he needs to do, or manipulate him in any way.
I nod and step away, staring down at my bare feet like a hurt child. Ryker puts his fingers under my chin and says, "If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't. I'd stay here with you. I promise."
Stroking his cheek, I give him a little smile. "Then go and get back. You and I have lots of unfinished business."
Ryker grins. "Yes, we do. I'll try my best to be back here tomorrow night... no matter how late it is."
"Will you wake me if I'm asleep?"
Ryker winks. "Try and stop me."
We stare at each other until Ryker finally says, "I've ordered supper for you. Stay here and wait for it. I'll call you as soon as the plane lands."
"'Kay."
"Don't forget that you and I have a sexting date. It won't be nearly as good as the real thing, which I have to tell you has made dreams come true for me today, but it's the best I can offer you."
"Really?" I ask, and he knows I'm asking about his dreams come true comment.
Ryker nods. "Really. I've always wanted to fuck someone on my desk, but I've never met anyone in my entire life that would have looked as beautiful splayed out there as you did today."
I blush and duck my chin into my shoulder.
"I've never thought of doing that before, but I can promise you that you and I will definitely be doing that again."
Ryker kisses my head. "Keep that train of thought. I'll begin my sexts once I get on the plane, and I fully expect you to play along."
I glance up at him. "I look forward to it... sir."
Ryker's dimples deepen more than I've ever seen when I call him sir. Then he reaches down and picks up his suitcase.
At the door, he turns around and says, "I've asked Dante to get you to work tomorrow since we left the Bugatti there." Ryker fishes in his pocket and pulls out a hotel door card. "Here's a room key for you. Consider any and everything here yours. Order whatever you'd like. It's all on me."
"You can go. I'm going to be fine. If I need something, I have some money. Plus, I got this fancy new title today. I bet I'll get at least a five thousand-dollar a year raise," I say, completely kidding with Ryker.
Ryker cocks his head toward me. "Bay, that job pays three hundred thousand dollars a year. You'll be getting more than a five percent raise."
I almost choke on my spit. "What the hell, Ryker? That's too much money! I'll take a five percent raise... ten if you insist, but nothing more than that."
Ryker says, "Alex makes more than that. Do you think he's a more valuable employee than you?"
I think about what he's just said and finally shake my head. "No."
"Falan's going to make three hundred thousand dollars a year. Do you think she's a more valuable employee than you?"
I shake my head again.
"Then it looks like the case is settled."
It occurs to me that I'll be able to afford a condominium and a car and I'll have lots of money left over for a nice nest egg so I'm never in this homeless and carless situation again.
Before finally closing the door behind him, Ryker says, "Enjoy the read. I'll sext you later."
I grin toward his back. "I look forward to it!"
The moment I can no longer feel his presence, I feel lost and lonely. I sit back down. I have every intention of reading this entire book so I'm too distracted to think about Ryker and Eden, ponder whether they are members of the mile-high club, fantasize about becoming a member of that club with Ryker.
Jerking me from my fantasy, there's a knock at the door. I have no intention of making Dante or my supper wait. I pop up and rush over, slinging the door open without looking through the keyhole. Once it's wide enough for the food cart to be pushed through, I glimpse up and am prepared to see the happy-go-lucky Dante.
Shocked and confused by what I see, who I find standing at my door, my chin drops to my chest and I stand speechless and weak-kneed.
"Colt! Wh
at the hell are you doing here?' I ask, but the indignation I'm trying for is not heard or felt.
CHAPTER 18
MEN AND MONSTERS
Baylee
Colt and I stand staring at each other for several minutes before he sighs loudly, runs his hands through his hair, and looks away from me.
I've never seen Colt like this, and I know instantly why Eden is so worried for him... about him. The dark circles beneath his sunken eyes scare me. The fact that his normally sun-kissed bronze face is bloodlessly pale makes the shadows all the more ominous and my concern all the more frightening.
"Colt, come in. Let's talk. Things don't have to be like this for us," I beg, reaching out for his hand and grabbing onto it.
Colt doesn't say a word. Instead, he looks down at where I'm touching him. I can tell he's torn. He's trying to decide if he's going to give in and agree to talk to me about what happened, about how we got here, or walk away.
He follows his heart, intertwines his fingers with mine, and for the briefest second, closes his eyes in complete and utter contentment. Feeling like I've reached him, like I might be able to pull him out of the depression he's spiraled down into, I tug him toward me. Needing to be near me as much as I need to be near him, Colt takes the few steps necessary to make his way into the suite with me.
I shut the door, and he leans against it. His head bangs loud when he looks toward the heavens and says, "Babe... I-I'm so sorry. I-I..." Colt squeezes his eyes closed and palms both of his eyes, wiping away his tears. "I never should have left you. Wyatt and Eden have been messing with my mind... convincing me life without you would be better." He sobs loudly. "It's not. I can't live without you. I'd rather die first."
His statement about dying is more than an exaggeration, and I know it from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.
It's a threat.
It's a promise.
I attach myself to Colt's chest, hugging him with a desperation that only comes when you know you're about to lose someone.
"Don't talk like that. I couldn't stand it if anything ever happened to you. Please don't talk like that," I beg, crying against his chest and clinging to him as if he were my lifeline.
"It's true, Bay. I-I shouldn't have broken up with you. I should've done what I really wanted to do, which was to beg you to marry me. Instead, and like the weak man I am, I followed my father's orders and left the only woman who will ever mean anything to me... and I left her for a woman who is more succubus than human. I've ruined everything." Finally, Colt looks down at me, and for the first time since he's been in the room, he's more concerned for me than I am for him. "Worse than anything... is the way I hurt you. For me, that's what's unforgiveable. I hate myself for doing that to you. I should be taking care of you... not making you sad or laying a hand on you."
No matter how true Colt's words are, his guilt is driving him away from me and reality. I need to bring him back so I can make him see that we can get past this. I know deep down that things will never be the same, but now's not the time for me to talk with him about that. My job right now is to get help for the man I've spent four years loving. When he's better, we can talk about our future.
"Colt... sweetie... listen to me," I say, holding his cheeks in my hands. "Stop worrying about me. I'll be fine as long as you take care of yourself."
Colt wraps his arms around me, squeezes me like he thought he'd never see the day when he could do this again. "I love you, Bay. I love you so much. I swear it. I just want us to go back to our apartment and for things to be like they were before. Let's forget everything that's happened the last week."
I use my shoulders to wipe the tears from my jaws. "Colt, I'm willing to work on our relationship, but we need to get into counseling. Everything that's happened came down on us because we weren't doing enough stuff together. If we'd been working as hard on our relationship as we were on our jobs, neither Wyatt nor Eden would have ever been able to drive a wedge between us. You know that, and I know that."
Colt kisses my head. "I won't make that mistake twice. I'm never leaving you again... no matter what. Get your things and let's go," he says, still not letting up on the hold he has of me.
He's determined to keep me in his grip, and everything about it feels wrong. It's too hard and too possessive. I try to pull away from Colt and reason with him. Somehow, I have to get him to agree to speak to a therapist. Sooner rather than later.
"Colt, the only way I'll go back to our apartment with you is if you promise me you'll meet with Carl in the morning. He's one of the doctors I worked with in the emergency room. I need him to tell us what we need to do to get back on track," I say, kissing his cheek.
Colt stiffens. "We're going back to the apartment, together, and I'm not going to talk to one of your goddamned psychiatrists friends. Jesus, Bay! What do you think Wyatt would do if he found out I did that? I'll tell you. He'd kick my ass. That's what he'd do. You didn't hear the things he said about your crazy-ass mother."
I'm insulted and hurt by Wyatt's comments about my mother, but for Colt's sake, I decide now is not the time for me to take a stand and shout from the rooftops how offensive he and Wyatt's prejudices are. I bite my tongue.
"I know, babe, but this is what you need to do for us. I can't go with you until you promise me you'll agree." I kiss him again, hoping my kindness will soften his mood, temper his anger, and help him see reason.
A distrustful Colt pushes himself away from me. He's a little rougher than he means to be. At least that's what I tell myself.
"Listen, Bay, I'm going to ask you one more time to pack your shit and let's go. It pisses me off that you've been shacked up with this asshole for the last few days. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to really trust you again. I never thought you'd fuck around on me. Not you," Colt says angrily. He's clearly regressing.
This time I'm the one who stiffens. There's only so much I'm willing to do or say or take from him and Wyatt in order to help him through whatever meltdown he's having. I love him, and I'm a nurse. Heart and soul. Still, I won't leave this hotel or go anywhere with him while he's this moody and his temper is this labile.
Being around him is too dangerous.
Cautious and irritated, I step away from him, gritting my teeth and closing my eyes. When I'm as calm as I can be, I say, "Colt. You left me. You don't have any rights when it comes to what I have or have not been doing."
Colt charges toward me. Unsure of what he's about to do, I duck, protecting my face from him. He doesn't hit me, but he does bury his fingertips so deeply into my upper arms that I know without seeing I'll have bruises for weeks.
I curve in on myself and try to pull my arms away from him. "Ow! Colt, you're hurting me. Stop, please," I beg.
Colt squeezes tighter and pulls me closer while he reaches down, pulling up my skirt. Before I know what he's doing he rubs his hand between my legs. Nothing about what he's doing is meant to give me pleasure. He's being hateful and rough, and there's a purpose.
"What the hell are you doing?" I say, glaring at him with every ounce of indignation I have. I'm twisting and turning my arm and trying my best to get away from him, but the more I try to pull away, the deeper the bruising of my arm gets.
An instant later, he sniffs his fingers and flies into a fit of rage unlike anything I've ever seen.
"Goddammit, you whore! You let him fuck you before he left here. His cum is still in you."
I'm not sure what to say. I've never been treated like this before. I feel violated and betrayed, and the way he glares at me makes me feel ashamed for what I've done with Ryker.
I've been jerking away from Colt with every ounce of energy I have so when he not only lets me go, but pushes me away from him as hard as he can, I fly backward. Airborne, I hit the coffee table with enough force to knock the breath out of me.
My back may have been stopped by the coffee table, but my legs weren't. In a surreal moment of slow motion, I open my eyes in time to see my legs fly ov
er my head just as I flip up and off the coffee table, hitting the floor behind the table with a resounding thud. Before my body comes to an abrupt halt, I hear a loud crack. It's an echoing snap that bounces off the walls in a way that reminds me what it would sound like if it were in stereo.
As soon as the daze of the tumble wears off, I slit my eyes open enough to see where I am and where Colt is. He's rushing over to me, looking as distraught as I've ever seen him.
"Holy shit, Baylee! I-I didn't mean to do that. I swear I didn't. Are you okay?" he asks, reaching over to help me up off the floor.
Something inside me turns animalistic. I scream at him like I've never screamed at anyone in my life. "GET AWAY FROM ME NOW! GET OUT OF HERE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! I HATE YOU!"
There is a sobbing wail behind every squealed word. I've never been so hurt—mentally and physically—in my life, not even the day I found my mother dead in our bathtub. I think the shock I felt when I saw her protected me somewhat. There's nothing—no rose-colored glasses—to buffer the knowledge that there's a monster standing in front of me. On top of that, there's an unbearable pain shooting up my arm and around to my shoulder blade. The ache is so overwhelming that it's making me both dizzy and nauseous.
Colt jerks his hand away and stares down at me like I'm the one who just knocked him down and broke his arm. "Bay... I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Don't be like—"
Interrupting him, there's a new knock on the door. I don't hesitate before yelling, "Come it, Dante. Come in. Please!"
Colt glances back at the door before running toward it like the criminal he's become. I suspect he plans to keep Dante from opening the door and finding me broken, battered, and bruised. Fortunate for me, Dante's faster than Colt. He has the door open and the cart halfway in before Colt makes it anywhere near the door.
When Dante sees a crazed Colt bolting toward him, he immediately goes on the defensive, putting his arms up and blocking his attacker. Instead of getting knocked down, which is exactly what Colt had planned, Colt hits Dante the giant, football-playing boulder and bounces backward. Colt awkwardly falls back into the cart carrying trays and trays of food, enough silverware for a dozen people, and glasses of every size and shape. With his legs flailing, everything on that cart goes flying against the wall and sliding across the floor.
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