The Gate (Dark Path Series)

by Grant, KT

  Eyes widening, she shook her head. “It looks like you aren’t the only one who has kept things from me.”

  “I thought we were past keeping secrets from one another. We fixed everything last night—”

  “Max, we’ve just touched the surface of what needs to be resolved between us. But I can’t now. I have to deal with my father’s wake, his funeral, and then the will, not counting I still have to pack for New Orleans—”

  He bolted upright. What the hell is she talking about? “What do you mean New Orleans?”

  Staring at the ceiling, she exhaled. “I’m going away for awhile. I’d planned the trip for the holidays, but after everything that’s happened, I moved it up. I leave next Monday.”

  “You’re running away from me?” He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs. He wondered if he got on his knees and begged her to stay if she would.

  Rising, she went to him, standing between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and set his cheek on her stomach.

  “I need time to think about you.” She swept her fingers through his hair. “My future. About…Chris.”

  He flinched upon hearing that bastard’s name and tightened his hold. He could have her lying under him, buried inside her in seconds if he so chose. But she would still leave, and he would be in an even worse place.

  “When will you be back?” he asked, sniffing his shirt. Knowing his scent would be on her skin gave him some peace.

  “I-I’m not sure. Not before the new year.” She backed away. “I’m asking you not to contact me. I need the time alone to evaluate my life.”

  “Can I call you to check in? When you get your new phone, will you keep the same phone number as before?”

  She tilted her head. “How did you know my phone’s missing?”

  He sat back on his elbows, showing Erika how aroused he still was for her, and how easy it would be for her to climb on top of him again. “Milton told me he found your phone. He didn’t tell you he had it?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  He tsked and shook his head, acting puzzled.

  She rubbed her forehead. “I’ll make sure to keep my same number.” She grabbed her coat and the folder off the chair. “Please thank Catherine for keeping my clothes and belongings safe last night. She was…indisposed. Half awake. We didn’t have time to talk.” She dropped the folder on the bed.

  Sitting up, he took her hands in his, peppering kisses on her knuckles. “I never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m not going to start now by trying to keep you here. But make no mistake, I’m not a patient man. There will come a point where we will see one another again.” He rubbed her palm across his cheek. “And when we do, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you.”

  The Erika he’d met weeks ago would have blushed and stammered. The new Erika standing before him laughed and bent to kiss him. Her lips clung to his, their tongues tangling. He started to lie back on the bed, but she stepped away.

  After pulling on her coat, she opened her bag, pulling out her inhaler. She shook it then dropped it on the bed. “I have a spare. But I don’t think I’ll need to use it anymore. Take care, Max.”

  “You forgot something.” Grabbing the folder, he held it out to her.

  “That’s for you. It’s fascinating reading.”

  He opened it, cursing when the picture of Page stared up at him. He threw the entire thing across the room. The pictures and papers littered the floor.

  She didn’t comment on his tantrum. He rose from the bed.

  Shaking her head, she backed away. “I called a friend to pick me up. She should be here any minute. I told her if I wasn’t down by seven, she should call the police.”

  “Shit, Erika, you think I would harm you?” Lifting his thumb to his mouth, he gnawed on his nail.

  “You have it all wrong. I don’t trust myself. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be stuck in this fantasy world you’ve created and never want to leave.” She spread her arms wide. “We need to separate. It’s the best thing for both of us under the circumstances.”

  “And what about Milton? Do the same rules apply to him?” Growling, he bit down on his nail. Blood trickled along the edge of his cuticle.

  She gave him a sad smile, walking out of his bedroom and his suite without answering.

  He didn’t follow her. He went over by the window, looking down below for her to appear. Minutes later, she crossed the street, climbing into a compact car and hugging the female driver. The car drove away.

  He rested his palm on the glass, his reflection staring back at him. The snow fell fast, sticking to the window. Blood from his thumb dripped down the side of his hand.

  He remained there until his blood pooled in the crook of his elbow and the urban horizon was a wonderland of white. He sat on his bed, snagged the scarf Erika had used on him, and held it to his nose, breathing in deeply. His foot landed on one of the pictures. Digging his heel into it, he twisted his foot until the photo crumpled from the force.

  ***

  Roger Walsh’s funeral service was attended by many. Over a thousand had showed, but less were invited to the cemetery. Just family, close friends, and business associates. The day was a bright, sunny one, although brisk with snow on the ground. Erika huddled under her long black coat, Alyson and Kim standing on either side of her. Chris stood behind her, keeping his hands on her shoulders even when she tried to knock him away. But she let it go, not wanting to start a scene.

  She didn’t shed any tears. She’d cried enough. For the past few nights, she would awaken, clammy and sweating, her cheeks damp with tears. She’d then end up in the shower, sitting on the floor of the stall while blistering hot water ran over her. Unable to sleep, she would lie on her couch, staring at her new cell phone, the urge to call Max causing her to shiver.

  She missed him desperately, irrevocably. But she still didn’t text or call him.

  The priest ended with some scripture about everlasting life and a soul’s final resting place. People paid their respects. All she wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.

  “Do you want to wait until everyone has left, so you can say your final goodbye?” Alyson rubbed her back.

  “No.” She hugged her friend. “I’ve said all my goodbyes.”

  Kim wrapped her arms around her from behind, and she welcomed the support.

  The women separated. Before she walked toward the limo, Chris pulled her in his embrace. She kept her arms at her sides, waiting for him to finish.

  “The next time I can get away, I’ll come see you in New—”

  “No.” She pushed him away. “I told you I need time to myself. You’re not welcome. Please respect my wishes.”

  His mouth straightened into a taut line. “You can’t stay angry at me forever. We need each other.”

  “It’s not the time or the place to argue.” She patted his arm. “We’ll be in touch by phone and emails. Okay?”

  Before he could say anything else, her cell vibrated, and she took it out. A text message from Max popped up.

  I’m here for you and always will be.

  She scanned the area, her stomach flipping. Max stood next to his car, staring at her. She brandished her cell. He smiled but then stood up straight, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

  “Erika,” Chris whispered from behind her. His front met her back, his hands coming around her waist.

  She tore away from him, stumbling on the grass. Both Kim and Alyson looked back and forth between the two men.

  She shook her head at Chris, showing him her phone. “I know what you did.” She didn’t expand on her statement, just walked away with both women toward the car. But she made the mistake of looking back.

  The two men stared at one another, stiff and angry. Max said something to Chris, and when Chris stepped toward him, Max climbed into his car, started the engine, and drove away.

  After climbing into the back of the limousine, she dug in her purse for her inhal
er but remembered she no longer carried one.

  Alyson grabbed her hand. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there?”

  “No. I’m sick of talking.” She laid her cheek on the cold window, closing her eyes. Soon, her breathing returned to normal.

  She didn’t acknowledge Kim, and least of all Chris when they got inside. She chose to ignore them all. Cursing herself ten times a fool, she typed in a message.

  Thank you for coming.

  She waited for him to text back. It never came.

  Hours later while lying in bed, she almost sent another text, but held back. Hadn’t she told him she needed time?

  She didn’t break down in tears. She was pretty much empty of them. Instead, she sat at her desk and started writing—a totally different story that didn’t feature an innocent little girl and her cat. It was about a sheltered, naïve woman, freed of her inhibitions by a bewitching man who had stolen her heart and soul.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Gate was closed Thursday in honor of Thanksgiving. It was locked up tight, every floor empty. The master of the house, the one who held the keys to his castle, stood on the roof, no coat, drinking wine. Merlot. The same vintage he’d shared with Erika the first night he met her.

  The cold didn’t bother him. His feet were blocks of ice, but he wanted to view the stars in the clear night sky, which wasn’t found very often in the surrounding area.

  He poured himself another glass—his third—with the plan to finish off the bottle. He savored the taste, wishing Erika was with him to enjoy it. Wine was all the sweeter when drinking with a partner, and she had been the best kind. He smiled, lost in the memory of one night when she allowed him to sip wine off her breasts and from her navel, finishing between her legs. Her cries of passion, her release, combined with the fruity, dry flavor of the merlot, was a heady drink indeed.

  Walking to the edge of the roof, he took his cell out, bringing up the last message she’d sent to him. He hadn’t responded, respecting her wishes to leave her alone.

  Because of how much wine he drank, he broke the rule.

  Happy Thanksgiving. How are you?

  A minute later, a text came through.

  I’m fine. I ate too much. You? :)

  He chuckled over the smiley face.

  As well as can be under the present circumstances.

  You’ll survive.

  He didn’t know how to answer. He could say a million things. He could call her, tell her how much he missed her. But he couldn’t trust his voice. He could have typed in those three special words most women longed to hear from him, but instead he sent a different message altogether.

  Come back to me.

  By the time he finished the bottle, she still hadn’t responded. He poured the last of the wine in his glass and chucked the bottle over the edge.

  Numb from the cold, he went inside, taking a hot shower to defrost. He stood under the spray of steaming water, blinking away the sting in his eyes. His stomach churned from too much wine He’d been unable to eat anything substantial in days. His knees shook, and he sank to the dank floor, staring at the wall across from him, at a loss for what to do concerning Erika.

  She’d taken a piece of him and would never forgive her for that. He needed to get it back, either through cajoling or stealing. She had no clue how much power she held in her hands, how she could destroy him with one word.

  She’d done something no other before her had accomplished. She’d brought down the master, rendering him a slave.

  Hers.

  “Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” –Winston Churchill

  Coming in 2014:

  The Key, book 2 in The Dark Path series…

  Erika has reinvented herself as an author of erotic romance under the pseudonym, Lily Fredericks. After her eight month sabbatical in New Orleans, she’s returning to Manhattan to promote her new book. Chris is handling her book tour and wants Erika to give him another chance. She’s forgiven Chris, but Max is always in her thoughts. Sick of waiting for Erika to come to her senses, Max takes matters into his own hands. He’ll go to New Orleans to claim her before it’s too late.

  With Erika back in Manhattan, both Chris and Max try to seduce her in the hopes she’ll choose one of them. As both men battle for her heart, a woman from Max’s past reappears, bent on revenge. Chris will ruin Max anyway he can in order to make Erika his own. However Max has something up his sleeve to insure he’s the victor, but not without a price—Erika’s soul.

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  KT Grant is a self-proclaimed eccentric redhead who not only loves to read a wide variety of romances, but also loves writing it. Under her alter-ego, she is a well-known book reviewer and blogger who doesn't shy away from voicing her opinion. A proud native of New Jersey, KT is multi-published and known for writing "out of the box" romances. KT is a top ten best-selling author at Amazon, as well as being a multiple All Romance Ebooks best seller and a Night Owl Reviews Top Author Pick.

  You can visit KT at:

  www.ktgrant.com

  On Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/katiebabs

  KT Grant Bibliography:

  Series:

  For the Love of Mollie (Sweet and Sinful #1)

  Claiming of Suzy (Sweet and Sinful #2)

  Xavier’s Loving Arms (Sweet and Sinful #3)

  The Princess’s Bride (Pirates of Flaundia #1)

  The Prince’s Groom (Pirates of Flaundia #2)

  The Princess’s Valentine (Pirates of Flaundia #2.5)

  Lovestruck (Lovestruck #1)

  Burning For You (Lovestruck #2)

  A Bid for Love (1NightStand Story)

  Island Pleasure (1NightStand Story)

  Single Titles:

  Alana’s Surrender

  Cinderella and the Lady

  Scandal in the Wind

  Sleeping with the Frenemy

  The Christmas Fantasy

  The Lady and the Vixen

  Self-Published:

  Macabre Delights

  Wasting Away in Deadsville