Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2)

by Heather Walsh

“Jesus, woman. What the hell?”

  “Please don’t regret touching me.”

  Her voice was unsure now, a whisper of pain dimming the laughter in her eyes and he couldn’t stand it. And he promised himself that for the rest of the dwindling night, he’d keep the future out. Refused to give it a thought, or at least to voice those thoughts. “Hell no, I don’t regret touching you, Kat.”

  She breathed deep, let it out slowly, still looking at him a little warily. “I’m on the pill. After that last scare. And I haven’t been with anybody else.”

  He’d hoped. Suspected. But that didn’t diminish the primal satisfaction that she was only his. Had only been his. Would be only his and he hoped to high heaven she wouldn’t read those damn thoughts. But the satisfaction must have been in his eyes because she rolled hers. “I haven’t either,” he laughed, then sobered. “Not since that day I first met you in the café. Since the very first time I saw you.”

  She was utterly silent, staring into his eyes, her smile once again brilliant, matching his he was sure.

  “That was months ago.”

  “It was. But I knew then you were my future.”

  “How? We fought constantly. Still do.”

  “Yeah. But the make-up sex is unbelievable.”

  Kat laughed.

  “Besides, you’ll learn.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “Love, honor, obey.”

  “Obey?” Kat laughed again.

  “To the letter.”

  “I think that part went out with the dark ages.”

  “Oh no, it didn’t,” Stephen corrected. “It’s made a spectacular come-back. In fact, it’s all the rage now.”

  Kat laughed again, her smile wide, the moonlight shining on her hair, her naked body. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “You did,” he corrected again. “I even warned you.”

  “When?”

  “‘You have no idea what you’re unleashing.’ Sound familiar?”

  “No.”

  “You, baby girl, are lying,” Stephen laughed. “What was your response?”

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d turn into a caveman!”

  “Now you play innocent?” he asked, incredulous. “Too late. You knew exactly what you were doing, knew what you were saying. Now answer me. What was your response?”

  Kat smiled, leaning down to press her lips to his. “I do.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair as it cascaded around him. “Not the last time you’ll be saying those words to me.”

  ***

  “Kat?” Stephen breathed, not quite panicked, but close. Cold sheets. Proof she hadn’t been in bed for a while. Shit! If she’d run again—

  “I’m here.”

  Physically, maybe. But her mind was a million miles away.

  Or more precisely, seven.

  He followed her voice, seeing her silhouette in front of the windows. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. If she said one word about regret…he’d fucking lose it. Had he come on too strong the night before? Pushing her too fast? Jesus, talk of marriage. A dumb ass move. Way too soon.

  She turned, facing him. “Don’t get mad—”

  Nothing good ever followed words like that, but Stephen held in a retort, even though his heart pounded with fear. Patience, he thought. She needed patience, because he knew better than anybody how hard this was for her. Knew he wasn’t the only man she loved and even as that knowledge killed him, it was a fact he was going to have to live with. At least for the time being.

  “—but I need to go home.”

  “Okay,” he said carefully, standing up from the bed. Dawn hadn’t even broken yet, and she needed to go? To crawl back into bed with Ethan before he noticed she was gone? This wasn’t how he pictured the morning after.

  But he didn’t miss Kat’s gaze moving over his naked body as he walked toward her. Or hide his reaction. The arousal he saw on her face eased his fear. A little.

  “Alone.” He heard her plea for understanding. And he understood. And even though the fear returned full force. Kat being alone with Ethan wasn’t a good thing right now. Because he had no clue how hard it would be for Ethan to change her mind.

  “Okay,” he repeated, closing the distance between them, placing his hands on her hips and his lips on her mouth. She looked relieved.

  “You want to go to lunch today?” The feel of her hands on his bare chest had the rest of his fear melting away. Mostly. “Sounds perfect. What time?”

  “Noon?”

  By his estimate, that gave her somewhere between six and seven hours alone with Ethan. How long could it possibly take to tell the man to take a hike? But he didn’t let those thoughts show on his face. Instead, he smiled. He could be reasonable. “Sure.”

  Kat looked up at him skeptically. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  Kat laughed, the sound filling every cell in his body. Jesus, he hoped to hear that sound every single day for the rest of his life. “Where’d the caveman routine go?”

  “Why? You miss it already?”

  “No,” she said, but wasn’t quite convincing. “I’m just not buying it.”

  “I can be a gentleman,” Stephen replied, affronted.

  She laughed again, this time wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yeah, right,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips. “That, Stephen, I am definitely not buying.”

  ***

  He lost her.

  The agony ripped through his entire body, more painful than he’d have ever imagined. He felt the sting of tears that refused to be pushed back, no matter how hard he fought them.

  “Fuck!” he roared, scaring Jake, his big eyes staring at him before he jumped off the bed and ran out of Kat’s bedroom. Ethan dropped to edge of the bed, his head nearly between his knees as gripped his hair as if that would keep it from exploding, fighting back the tears with everything he had.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there fighting, lost in a despair so deep he thought his heart might stop, each painful beat tearing another piece of his soul with it.

  And then he felt her presence.

  Jesus Christ, he didn’t want her to see him like this. Beaten. Broken. He stood, going into the bathroom without looking at her, hoping she wouldn’t be there when he came out.

  He started the shower, waited for it to warm. He should have left as soon as she’d chased after Stephen. But he hadn’t been able to force himself from her bed, the scent of her clinging to the pillows, increasing the anguish.

  He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, bracing his arms against the tile, his head hanging down as the water cascaded over his shoulders and back, unable to stop the flood of memories that bombarded him. Wondering how the hell he was ever going to move on from this, his fucking dream for long, so close he could reach out and touch it.

  Gone, like a puff of smoke.

  Fucking Chandler.

  So many fucking mistakes. Apparently, one too many.

  His hands trembled as he turned off the water, were still trembling as he dried himself off. His Kat, no longer his. Gone before she ever truly was.

  And hell, she was still there when he came out. Sitting on the end of the bed when he walked back into her bedroom. In that moment he didn’t completely trust himself. The need to lift her into his arms and kiss her senseless overwhelming.

  But he wouldn’t be able to stop. Without a word, without so much as a glance, he left her bedroom, making a beeline for the door. He didn’t want to hear the words again. Didn’t need to hear her spell it out for him.

  But she followed him, right on his heels as he tried to escape. He sucked in a breath and clamped his mouth shut, scared he’d say something he’d regret.

  “Ethan, wait!” she choked out, her voice sounding just as broken as his heart.

  He froze with his hand on the doorknob, knowing he’d never refuse her anythin
g, despite the ache it caused. But he didn’t turn around, couldn’t look at her.

  “I don’t need it spelled out, Kat,” he whispered in the darkness. “And I can’t have this conversation right now.” And if he sounded vulnerable right now? Well, he’d learned his lesson about lies, hadn’t he? Even if they were lies of omission, because had she known how he felt all these years, they wouldn’t be standing where they were, would they?

  “I want—”

  “You know what I want?” he yelled, whipping around, despite all his intentions to get out of her house without a fight, without a scene. “I want you! I have always fucking wanted you! And for the life of me, I can’t understand how can you love him more than you love me!” Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. Hadn’t wanted to say anything. Just wanted to get the hell out of there, couldn’t stand knowing she’d just come from another man’s bed. He yanked the door open, only managing a step before Kat grabbed his arm.

  “Please, Ethan! I don’t want to lose you!”

  The pain in her voice killed him, sliced through him deeper than his own. He felt the burn of tears again, but as desperately as he needed to leave, he couldn’t force himself to leave her like this. He whirled around, grabbed her up in his arms, using one hand to twist in her hair, crushing his mouth to hers, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips as they mingled with his, wondering how in the hell she could be tearing them apart when it was so obvious to him they loved each other, wanted each other. Belonged together. Before he lost control, before he opened his mouth to slide his tongue against hers, before he reduced himself to begging, he let her go. Holding her face in his hands, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment. “You will never lose me, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Harrington is missing,” Alex huffed. “Matthew Harrington. We hadn’t expected him to show, weren’t prepared.”

  Alex was pacing the floor, his tension evident in every step. They’d lost the chance to capture him, lost the chance to find some answers, but Stephen couldn’t bring himself to worry about that right now.

  “You’ll find him,” Stephen assured him. Half-heartedly.

  “What’s your problem?” Alex finally said after the silence had stretched. After he realized Stephen wasn’t really paying attention.

  The fucking clock wasn’t moving, Stephen thought. Every second, every minute torture as different scenarios—each one worse than the last—ran rampant through his head for the past few hours. From Kat changing her mind to—

  He shoved the thought out of his head, refusing to picture her with Ethan. He sucked in a breath, turning toward Alex. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Did you see what she did?”

  “What who did?”

  “Katie.”

  Oh, God. What now?

  Alex handed Stephen his phone. Kat’s image was on the glass, standing behind the podium Stephen instantly recognized from last night’s conference room.

  “‘Stephen Chandler is a hero…’”

  He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen as Kat recounted the events of that terrible night. She answered Genevieve’s questions with professionalism, never taking her eyes from the camera, sounding so strong even though he knew how incredibly difficult it must have been for her to stand before a cameraman, recounting how Stephen Chandler and Ethan O’Rourke, with the help of his brothers, had worked together that night to save her. How Stephen had risked his life to save her own. And the Stephen nearly stopped breathing when she began verifying the authenticity of the video that was currently going viral on social media.

  And then the video was playing. The same one he’d watched the other night. She’d edited out most of the torture, cut out the judge by zooming in on herself hanging by her arms, so the audience would see Stephen saving her from burning to death in a hotel room.

  “What did you do, Kat?” he whispered, never taking his eyes off the screen.

  “They were crucifying you. I couldn’t let it continue.”

  Stephen jerked his head up and there she was, standing on the threshold of the cabin. He opened his mouth to speak, but words escaped him.

  “Alex called.”

  Which is why she was there. Slowly, he dropped the phone on the couch and stood.

  “Are you angry?”

  Angry? Jesus, no. He was…shocked, for sure. Amazed that she would put herself out there when he knew how hard the press had been on her after her parents’ death. Astonished and awed that she’d go this far to clear his reputation. And then he repeated all those thoughts out loud, scooping her up into his arms as he buried his face in her neck.

  “Please tell me it’ll help,” she whispered.

  It didn’t matter. It was enough that she’d tried.

  ***

  “You couldn’t find a closer restaurant?”

  Kat forced a smile she didn’t feel. They’d been in the car for nearly ninety minutes. And though it hadn’t been uncomfortable, she was feeling a little raw. A little? More like devastated…like she’d lost her best friend. But as much as she hated hurting Ethan, she couldn’t bear losing Stephen. “This one looks like a castle.”

  She’d been sure to keep her sunglasses on so Stephen wouldn’t see the devastation on her face, but she knew she wasn’t kidding anybody. She glanced over at him and her heart pounded against her rib cage with a hard thump. He was so utterly beautiful, so big and strong and all her doubts melted away. And she couldn’t believe he was hers.

  He’d made her feel alive again, had made her laugh when life seemed impossible. Had ignited her body into a passion she never dreamed would be so all consuming. He looked at her like he’d devour her, that connection between them she was powerless to fight against.

  Stephen parked. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kat said, when they pulled into the parking lot. She hadn’t admitted to Stephen why they were here. Undoubtedly, he was going to be pissed, but she’d deal with that after.

  “It is,” Stephen said, coming around the passenger side and opening the door for her.

  Kat threw her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. He hadn’t asked what happened with Ethan and she knew it was probably killing him, but she wasn’t ready to rehash it. She’d probably never be. But she’d whispered the words he needed to hear before they left. “I’m yours.”

  And with a whispered, “Thank God,” he crushed his mouth to hers. Which Alex had rudely interrupted, just as Stephen was taking her back to bed.

  Now Kat glanced at the time. Two o’clock. She looked over at Stephen, wondering if they’d recognize him, hoping his presence wasn’t going to hinder her investigation. Originally, she was going to ask Ethan, but after this morning, well that wouldn’t have worked.

  Stephen took her hand, leading her into the restaurant. There was no hostess yet, so they stood by the Please Wait to be Seated sign. But they didn’t have to wait long. Kat recognized Claire Henderson by her picture from the website.

  “First customers of the day,” Claire said with a smile, though Kat saw the signs of grief etched into her face.

  “Hello, Miss Henderson. I’m Katherine Collins. We spoke on the phone about your mother’s case.”

  The smile dropped from her face as if it had never been. “Of course. Why don’t you sit at the bar while I get Peter?”

  Her brother. Kat followed her to the bar, taking a seat on the stool. “Lunch?” Stephen growled. “You, baby girl, are in a shitload of trouble.”

  “So you keep threatening,” Kat returned, keeping her expression neutral. Before she could continue, Claire came back with Peter in tow. She could see the grief on his face too. He was on the shorter side, about the same height as his sister, with a little bit of a belly, probably from sampling the food as he cooked. And when he looked at her, she saw the hope and gratefulness in his eyes and she really, really hoped she wasn’t on a wild goose chase. Because if she was giving them false hope…
that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “Investigator Collins, thank you so much for coming.” Kat took the hand he offered before turning to Stephen. Who was not happy. But he did a pretty good job of hiding it. “This is Assistant District Attorney Stephen Chandler. He’s also interested in hearing your concerns about your mother’s case.”

  And she waited for the shock, for the suspicion and questions, but they never came. Perhaps it was because they were two counties away, an entirely different news network area. Or perhaps it was simply because the Hendersons didn’t care where the help was coming from. Peter held his hand out to Stephen with a simple thank you and she felt the tension in Stephen’s body slowly ease as he shook the man’s hand.

  “You said on the phone that you suspected foul play,” Kat began.

  “Foul play? Is that a politically correct word for murder?” Claire snapped.

  “Take it easy, Claire.” Peter said, placing his hand on her shoulder. In warning or comfort, Kat wasn’t entirely sure. “Please excuse my sister’s rudeness. We’re all a little frustrated right now. We’ve been given the runaround for weeks. Nobody has any answers for us.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Talk to any of my mother’s friends and business associates. Hell, talk to the entire town.” He handed her the paper, a list of names, addresses and phone numbers on it. “My mother didn’t do drugs. Ever. I’ve relayed this information to Investigator Robinson. I know she says she’s working on it, but it’s been two weeks.”

  “We are taking your doubts seriously.” At least Kat hoped they were. “Which is why I’m here. Do you know if your mother spoke with Emma Anderson recently?”

  “The name doesn’t sound familiar. Who is she?” Claire asked.

  “A reporter out of Albany. She was murdered a few days ago,” Peter explained to his sister before glancing at Kat again. “How would her death be connected with my mother’s?”

  “It’s an avenue we’re investigating. I’m sorry I can’t give you any specifics, but anything you could tell me would help.”