Dangerous (Wicked Hearts Book 2)

by Sara Cate

  My chest aches as I try to suck in a breath. “I don’t know,” I whisper through my tears, which is true. I’m drowning in confusion. My head wants me to save myself, but my heart wants to save him.

  Please come back to me. Please kiss me, I beg him in my mind.

  It’s quiet for a long time, and he doesn’t make a move toward me.

  “Does it matter?” I breathe. It’s a dangerous question. I’m asking him to give a fuck about me, and I’m not prepared for how I’ll react if he tells me he doesn’t. If he tells me I don’t matter…

  He doesn’t answer me, just crosses back to the window. In the dark moonlit room, the black ink on his arms makes him hard to make out against the window. It’s almost like he covers himself in the dark shades to hide himself, to let it swallow him up.

  I want to yell at him, demand he give me something more, open up, bare his soul.

  There’s absolutely nothing left in me that could hurt him. Not for myself. Not for anything. But he’s still pushing me away, and my heart shatters with the realization that I’ve backed myself into a relationship that will end in my heartbreak no matter what I do. Murph will never love me back, not openly, and when I sign away his shop, it will all have been for nothing. The pain will devour me.

  The only thing I can do now is put distance between us. Spare the rest of my heart from further torment. If I stay here with him, it will only be a matter of time before Hugo finds me. Before he comes for me, putting everyone here in danger and ending in heartbreak regardless.

  There is nothing left for me to do but walk away, so without another word to Murph, I walk to the door and go to my room. It pains me to leave him, especially after baring my soul and sharing the story of the car in the river, but it hurts far more when I realize he’s not coming after me. He doesn't come find me in my room, ask me to come back, apologize for being so closed off.

  Because Murph is incapable of loving anyone, and I’ve fallen so deeply in love with him I could drown.

  It’s better that she’s gone. Especially now that I know what she went through. Fuck, I can’t think about how she felt in that car. What that monster did to her to make her do that.

  Her story gutted me.

  I just keep telling myself: it’s better that she’s gone. Savannah bared her fucking soul, but when she needed me to bare mine, I shut her down, and I’ll continue to shut her down. Every. Single. Time. It’s all I know, and all I’ll ever know. To be pushed away from every single person you care for. Tossed from home to home. Forced to find companionship and family with those who are just as hard and abused as you are, it doesn't exactly make me the right candidate for romance.

  I sure as hell wouldn’t expect her to stick around once she got a peek at how dark the shit is in my soul. She deserves more. She deserves a guy who can be as vulnerable as she was when she came clean.

  The next few days pass by in a lifeless haze of gray. Ryder and I haven’t so much as looked at each other, and Savannah won’t touch me. She’ll only talk to me about the party and about the plans for the week, but her eyes only meet mine for a moment and never linger too long. Never inviting me to the bedroom or daring me to do something I shouldn’t do.

  On Friday afternoon, once it’s clear there’s nothing more for me to do to prepare for the party, I decide to take a jog around town. The most physical activity I’ve done this month has been sex, which it doesn’t look like I’ll be doing again anytime soon. And a good run is just another way to release the tension.

  Truthfully, the house is boring as hell when she’s not talking to me. But I have so much shit going through my head that I can’t start thinking about this relationship. What does she want me to be? Her boyfriend? I don’t do the boyfriend stuff. Feelings and commitment...nope.

  A nagging voice in my brain keeps reminding me while I’m jogging down the neighborhood roads that exclusively screwing each other is part of a relationship, and if I want Savannah to stay exclusive, then I probably need to reconsider.

  Time will tell. Once that will is read in two weeks, all cards will be revealed. I can’t shake the feeling this girl has one foot out the door and once we know what Hazel’s real grand plans were, it will be very telling, whether or not she’s staying.

  I run three miles before I decide I need to run more often because this jog is kicking my ass. I probably need to lay off the bourbon too while I’m at it. It doesn’t help that it’s almost July and hot as the fucking sun out here.

  As I come up the hill toward Hazel’s I notice a car parked just outside the driveway leading into her garage. I slow my jog and come up to the passenger side. The car is black and the windows are even darker. Coming around the front, I peer into the windshield and see a shady looking asshole. All I can make out is his tight-fitting black shirt, his shades, and the smug expression on his face.

  “Can I help you?” I yell, stopping in the middle of the driveway, panting and out of breath from my run.

  “This is a beautiful neighborhood,” he answers with a fake smile. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent there, and I definitely have not seen him around town. Whoever he is, he looks like trouble.

  “You better park the fuck somewhere else,” I grit out, losing my temper. He holds up his hands and keeps that grin on his ugly face.

  “Calm down, brother. I’m out.”

  “I’m not your fucking brother.”

  As he drives away, he drops his smile and glares at me with a cold expression. I want to pull him out of that car and beat the shit out of him for that look alone. Instead, I memorize his plates.

  As I walk up the driveway, I pull out my phone and text the number to Rafe before I can forget it.

  Murph: Run these. Asshole parked in front of my house.

  Rafe: Your house?

  Murph: Hazel’s house. Just run them.

  I’m in the shower about an hour later when my phone bings with the response.

  Rafe: Registered to some old lady on Newport. No record.

  My gut tells me to look into this more, but the house is in shambles when I get out of the shower. Ruby is panicking about the caterer not answering her calls, and Savannah is stressed about the DJ flaking and programs she’s having printed, so I get distracted by helping them instead of looking into it.

  I figure it can wait another day.

  By the night of Hazel’s party, everyone is so busy getting the house ready that I don’t get one extra moment to talk to Savannah. For some reason, I want to at least be on friendly terms by the time guests arrive. I want to get tanked and know that she’ll be in my bed at the end of the night.

  Of course when she walks down the stairs that night with the same dress on that she had at the gala, I can barely remember my own fucking name. Only two weeks have gone by since that night, and already it feels like I have a lifetime of memories of her. How in only two weeks have I memorized the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin, every freckle, every dimple, every spot that makes her shiver?

  And how the fuck have I messed it up so badly?

  Lucy and I are sitting around the fireplace while the party roars on around us. It’s strange to me that it’s the company of a five-year-old that I enjoy the most. She’s the only person at this party who doesn’t care about money or impressing others. For some reason, she’s perfectly happy spending her evening with the grumpiest man at the party.

  All of the songs that remind me of Hazel are playing on repeat over the speakers and everyone is drinking her favorite drinks. Gin and tonic and bourbon on the rocks. Pictures of her from her earliest days adorn the walls while everyone tells their favorite stories of the eccentric woman. It makes me miss her so fucking much.

  I pound back another bourbon when I spot Logan and Sierra walking through the crowd. Rafe is hovering behind them, a stone cold sneer on his face like always. He hates the people even more than I do, but he’s usually better at hiding it.

  Logan slaps a hand on my shoulder. “How you doin’, old man?�
�� he says with a smile.

  Sierra reaches in to give me a tight hug, and it’s nice. To feel like I have people, family. They don’t say much, just make small talk about the party and how I’ve been lately even though I haven’t made it back to the shop as often as I’d like. The whole time I can tell they’re looking for Savannah, wondering why she’s not next to me. Why she’s standing with the blonde girl from the gala at the opposite side of the house, looking just as depressed as I do. But they don't ask. Because they know me.

  They know I won’t answer.

  The truth about Ryder, the truth that I can’t bring myself to admit sits on my tongue, growing more and more sour with every minute that passes. It’ll just stay there, left unsaid, and for a while I have myself convinced that it’s for the best. So when Rafe, sitting next to me with a glass of whiskey nearly spits his drink out and asks, “Is that Ryder?” I want to ignore the question.

  “Yeah,” I answer gruffly.

  “You guys not getting along, huh?” he asks.

  “We avoid each other pretty well.”

  “Who is that?” Sierra asks, and in her defense, Sierra always means well. But right now, I don't want her asking any questions.

  I walk away to fill my glass but not far enough that I can’t hear their conversation. “He was kind of like Murph’s brother. Hazel sort of took him in, too.”

  “I thought you guys were his brothers,” she teases and I wince. They have no fucking clue.

  “Yeah well, they actually grew up together. In the same house, you know? We’re more like a stand-in family.”

  “A better fucking family,” I growl as I walk up. It’s true. Logan, Rafe, and Theo, when he was alive, were always there, no matter what. No questions asked. Not Ryder. That kind of family is only a set-up for heartbreak. Don’t count on people you can't trust. The family you choose will always be there.

  “Where’s your girl?” a slimy voice whispers over my shoulder. I already know who it is before I turn.

  That smug asshole, Colin Mc-fucking-Affery, is standing by the bar with his elbow perched there like he owns the damn place.

  Needless to say, I do not answer him.

  “You two haven’t been talking all night. I’ve noticed. I didn’t realize you were the bone-you-own-sister kind of guy,” he laughs.

  I won’t even acknowledge him. Won’t even look at him.

  “She is your sister, right? I mean...the three of you were all Hazel’s little charity cases.”

  “Fuck off, Colin.”

  I said I wouldn’t answer him, but the drink in my hand has me a little too loose.

  “Well, if you’re done with her, then I think I’ll have to go say hi.”

  My jaw clicks when I clench it. He thinks this shit is funny. He acts like this is a goddamn locker room and I’m going to joke back with him.

  I’m calling his bluff, letting him make an ass of himself. If he goes to Savannah, she’ll squash him like a bug, like she did to that prick Frank Hamilton. And as much as I want to toss Colin off this balcony by the collar of his jacket, I let him think he doesn’t get to me. No matter how much he does.

  Instead of watching him approach her, I reach for the bottle instead. Might as well just take the whole thing this time. Save the trip.

  I’m not usually such a heavy drinker, but this party has me on edge. I want to celebrate Hazel, but all I can think about is Murph. He looks as good as he did on the night of the gala, with his hair perfectly coiffed and that suit a little too tight in all the right places.

  We could make up tonight. I could live with the fact that he doesn’t open up. He will eventually. I’ll tell him about the will, the letter from Hazel, and we will face this together. I don’t have to be afraid of Hugo if I have Murph by my side. He would protect me, I’m sure of it.

  These are all of the thoughts running through my head while Colin rambles on about his time with Hazel on the board. Like he knew her.

  Under different circumstances, Colin would be an attractive guy. He’s tall, slender, with a crooked nose that almost looks sexy. But then he opens his mouth. And it’s all ruined.

  He’s obnoxious, self-centered, and so fake. His smile makes me sick, with his bright whites and lifeless eyes. I wish he’d leave. It’s not like Tia, Ryder, or I are giving him any inclination that we’re enjoying his company. The three of us are looking off in the distance while he talks, on and on.

  Finally, when his story ends, he leans in to hug me, which takes me by surprise.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he whispers against my cheek.

  “Um, thanks.”

  “And I’m sorry Murph is such an asshole. Whatever happens after all of this, I hope you know you can always come to me.”

  Always come to him? This is the first time he’s ever spoken to me.

  Oh, right. The will.

  There’s a good chance, as far as they know, that I could inherit a small fortune. Their vain greed has absolutely no tact.

  Then, Colin pulls back and presses his lips against my cheek. It’s so odd that I’m frozen in place. But as I pull away, I see the eyes watching me from across the room.

  My heart thuds in my chest.

  Colin rests his arm over my shoulder as he turns to face Tia and Ryder, smiling like we were in the middle of a fun conversation. He’s making it look like I’m comfortable with him, when I am anything but. It’s obvious to me, but it’s not obvious to the seething eyes that look like they could stare daggers into the both of us.

  He’s standing with his friends, with an empty-looking bottle in his hand. I shift away from Colin, but I still feel a pang of guilt as he watches me. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong.

  Ryder leans forward and pulls me away from Colin.

  I can tell he’s been drinking because his eyes are rimmed red, and they keep landing on Tia who hasn’t left my side all night. He’s been emotional all week. I know the news about Murph hit him harder than he expected it to. Almost daily, I’d find him sitting silently in his room, pouring over pictures on his phone, probably trying to reconcile this news with the childhood he remembers.

  “We should say something...to the crowd,” Ryder whispers to me, his voice slurred in my ear.

  “Where’s Ruby?” I ask, looking around for the woman who I last saw serving people drinks to others when they should have been doing that for her.

  “I can go find her,” he says. “We should get up there together. All of us.”

  I swallow down my emotions as I squeeze his arm. “I’ll get him,” I whisper. “Go find Ruby.”

  He smiles and disappears into the crowd.

  Taking a deep breath, I cross the room and approach Murph standing against the bar, staring miserably out into the darkness through the window. His friends are still standing by his side though he looks to be terrible company.

  “We should say something,” I mumble. He turns and looks at me, his eyes freezing on my face for a long moment. I think for a moment that he might kiss me, but he doesn’t. His blinks are slow. He’s had way too much to drink. This is a bad idea.

  I almost explain that Colin ambushed me. That I was being polite and would never crawl into bed with someone he hated so much, but I decide not to. I don’t owe him that explanation, and after our last conversation, he doesn’t deserve it.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but an announcement would be nice. Just a thank you for coming or an invitation to share something about her.”

  “I’ll share something,” he growls, and my eyes go wide. I should have never come over here.

  “Murph—”

  “What?” he says, turning on me. “You don’t want me to be honest, to tell everyone that she played with our lives, played God and kept secrets from us like it was all a fucking game. Want me to tell everyone that?”

  People are already looking our way. He’s already big and loud, but when he takes that tone, it quiets a room.

  I try to stop him, but
he’s already banging on the bar with his glass as it threatens to shatter everywhere. “I’ll tell them all about our dear Hazel,” he announces, and all the eyes in the room are on us, including Ruby and Ryder who just entered together on the other side of the crowd. “I’ll tell them that she collected poor teenagers like we were toys to her.”

  “Stop it,” I mutter.

  “Contrary to the gossip around town, she did not try to screw me when I was a teenager. She tried to fix my problems with money instead. Sex would have been better.”

  A few people laugh, including Colin who I spot standing where I left him. Judging by the smile on his face, he’s quite entertained.

  “Murph!” Ruby shouts, and Murph glares at her while swaying in his spot. “Oh, how about the fact that she kept you hidden, Ruby? Told everyone you were her maid! How does that feel? Do you want to continue celebrating her?”

  “Yes, I do. Now shut the hell up!”

  I try pulling on his arm, but he doesn’t budge. “Don’t do this,” I mumble.

  “She kept me in the dark my whole life. Dragged Ryder and his mom across the country, for what? For me? She forgot to mention that she knew the whole goddamn time he was my brother!”

  The crowd breaks out in gasps, and now his friends are also trying to get him to sit down or walk outside, but he’s too far gone. My eyes travel to Ryder who is staring at Murph like he’s been punched in the face. He’s stalking toward us with a glare on his face targeted toward Murph. He thinks he can make him stop, but he doesn’t know what I know. He’s been storing these words away and once he gets started, he won't be able to stop.

  He’s a freight train rolling downhill without brakes.

  I have to pull him away. There has to be some way to stop him from causing even more of a scene, and I only know of one way to lure him away, so I link his fingers with mine and lean up to press my face to his. In his ear, I whisper, “Come with me.”