When Ronin saw me step into the hallway, he picked up Anya and the white teddy bear she hugged to her chest and followed me. I peeked right and left, stopping when I found the room with our luggage at the end of the king bed.
“This is Lila’s handbag, not mine.” I picked up the white leather shoulder bag.
Anya reached for me.
“Trade. I’ll take the bag to Lila. You get Squirmy ready for the beach.”
We made the trade, our gazes locking. I frowned, hugging her to me.
“It’s fine.” Ronin held Lila’s bag in one hand and cupped my face with his other hand, leaning forward to brush his lips over mine, pecking at them playfully. “I don’t like it either. But our kids adore our friends right now. We’ll take Graham out back and beat him up later,” he whispered.
I grinned. “I four-letter-word you so much.”
He bit my lower lip, giving it a playful tug before releasing it. “Watch it … if you open up that can of worms, you’ll regret it when we need it the most.”
On my death bed … or his. That was when I wanted to share those three words with him. I didn’t want rainy days, final straws, or the end of a rope. I wanted those words to be a final breath after a long life of showing everything. I wanted to prove to ourselves and the whole world that words were empty without the true actions to back them up.
“Go. You might have to leave it outside her door. She’s getting ready to … nap or something.”
“Okay.” He left a solid kiss on my lips and sauntered off.
My king.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ronin
I played it cool, walking that stupid line, when Graham unveiled his surprise for our kids. He ruined Christmas for the rest of their childhood. What could we possibly get them after he bought them one of everything from Santa’s workshop?
Stopping at the door to Franz’s room, I debated saying something to him, knocking out a few teeth, or simply breaking a rib or two. But his back was to me. He and Franz were on the floor building something with Legos.
“I loved building with Legos when I was young like you, Franz. I used to build little Lego people to be my friends because …” He paused his hands and sighed. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of friends when I was your age.”
“You didn’t have friends?” Franz murmured, keeping his hands busy with the Legos.
“No. But you’re much cooler than I was, so you don’t need to build friends or buy them. You have cool parents.”
Franz nodded slowly, probably not getting Graham’s point. Again, Graham made it hard to completely despise him. As much as I didn’t want to be affected by the “poor” little rich kid’s story, it made enough of an impact to keep me from saying anything, so I continued toward the other side of the house to find Lila.
All the doors were shut, so I gently knocked on each one. Evie said to just leave it outside the room, but I wanted to make sure Lila was okay. I’d had this clawing need for weeks to make sure she was fine.
“Come in.”
I received a soft response after knocking on the last door. Opening it slowly, I opened my mouth to tell her I had her bag, but I choked on the words. Lila stood at the window, her back to the door, gazing out the shutters tilted just enough to see out without letting anyone see inside the room. I should have backed out of the room as quickly as possible because she wasn’t wearing anything but a black thong—and a smattering of bruises along her back and along the curve of her ass, her winged tattoo hard to make out in the mess of bruises.
All the moments over the previous weeks of feeling jolts of pain, the skin along my back burning at times, and a general tenderness when the kids jumped on me or Evie curled her fingers into my flesh when we made love … it all made sense. Yet, at the same time it made no sense whatsoever.
“Lila …” I whispered.
She startled, whipping around with one arm covering her breasts as she reached for a blanket on the bed with her other hand. “Ronin!” She gasped, eyes wide and feral as she wrapped the blanket around her body.
My hand released her bag to the floor by my feet and I clenched my fists. “Did he do that to you?”
Her head jerked back, eyes blinking in rapid succession. “What?”
I took a few slow steps toward her. “The bruises.”
“No.” Her head whipped side to side in several hard shakes.
I wanted to demand she show me her bruises as I didn’t get a close look to inspect them, but I saw them. They were there and unmistakable.
Her fear felt tangible in that moment as clearly as our connection rang endlessly in my ears, reminding me of the rules I broke and the price I’d forever pay.
I saw them …
I couldn’t ignore the truth. As much as I wanted to welcome all kinds of doubt, it had yet to make a case.
“Lila—”
“No! It’s not what you think. It’s not what you think you feel.”
I winced. “She told you.”
Biting her lips together, she nodded.
Secrets …
They haunted me at every turn—mine, Evie’s, and I feared Lila’s might too.
“Is it true?” Pain plagued her face.
I didn’t want her to feel bad or any sort of pain for something she didn’t do … something she couldn’t control.
“Yes. But I’m fine. You’re not. The bruises, Lila. You can tell me. I can help you.” I would help her. If that meant ending Graham’s life, I would do that for her because she was my wife’s best friend. And I sure as fuck didn’t save her on that mountain only to let her husband hurt her.
Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away before a single one broke free. “You can’t help me.” Drawing in a shaky breath, she tightened her hold on the blanket and tipped her chin up. “It’s not Graham. And … Evie can’t know. Not ever.”
“No.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “There’s nothing you can’t tell her. She’s your friend. And so am I. Let us help.”
After a swallow, she eased her head side to side, jaw clenched, eyes hard on me. “She can’t ever know. And I’m sorry. If this…” she narrowed her eyes “…this thing you feel from me is real, I’m sorry you have to feel it. If I could prevent it, I would.”
“Prevent what?”
Her face morphed into a mask—a numb, emotionless mask. Not a wrinkle of anything to read into her thoughts, her feelings. “I have leukemia.”
Cancer.
It took me several seconds to make sense of her confession. Bruising? Maybe. Like that? It seemed unlikely.
“That’s a lot of bruising for—”
“I slipped on our marble stairs at home. Honestly, I grabbed the railing. I landed on my butt and the edges of the stairs scraped along my back. It didn’t even hurt that badly at the time. But … I swear even a firm hug can leave bruises at this point. I try to be careful.”
Cancer.
Evie just buried her mom.
“It will destroy her,” Lila whispered.
I blinked several times as Lila’s words echoed my thoughts. It would absolutely destroy Evie.
“Lila … I’m … Fuck … I don’t know what to say.” I deflated. If those were bruises from leukemia and I tried to accuse her husband of abusing her, that would have made me a total asshole.
“Say you won’t tell Evie.”
“Jesus …” I parked my hands on my hips and turned my back to her, glancing up at the ceiling. “If I tell her, it will destroy her. But if I don’t tell her … will it destroy us?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
My chin dropped to my chest, and I shook my head slowly. “You’re sorry? For having leukemia? That’s so fucked-up, Lila.”
“It’s manageable. Maybe there’s nothing to tell. She never needs to know that you know. Not if I live … not if I die.”
If she dies … I could die with her.
I almost did after her accident.
“Graham should be finding th
e very best doctors.” I turned back to her. “Right?”
“Of course.” She returned an easy nod that didn’t match her pensive expression. “I’m doing some alternative treatment. Less pain for me, less pain for—”
“What’s going on?”
I turned to Graham, stepping into the room with wide eyes flitting between me and his naked wife wrapped in a blanket.
“Ronin brought me my bag,” Lila spoke in a rush.
Graham’s uneasy gaze locked with mine, asking me questions without saying a word.
Did I see Lila’s bruises?
Would I tell Evie?
What did I know?
“He’s not going to tell Evie about the cancer.”
His head and gaze inched from me to Lila like a million things chased around his brain, expression blank, lips parted.
“The cancer …” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Lila murmured. “He walked in. I thought it was you. He saw the bruises from the leukemia. He’s not going to tell Evie.”
I didn’t promise that.
Without taking his attention away from Lila, Graham brushed past me to embrace his wife, kissing her softly on her head while she buried her face into his neck. I took it as my cue to leave. What would I say to Evie? I … I didn’t know.
“If you suffer, she will know. I won’t be able to hide it.” I didn’t know if Graham knew about my connection to Lila. I wasn’t talking to him anyway. Without another look back, I exited the room, shutting the door behind me.
A sob broke from Lila as I stood there, listening for a few more seconds.
“How did this happen?” she sobbed.
“Shh … nothing has happened. I told you, baby, you’re fine. We’re fine. Okay? You believe me, right? There’s nothing to tell. He won’t tell her. Everything is fine. I promise.”
I couldn’t walk away. Graham’s assessment didn’t help my situation. They were both in denial. And I was in the middle.
As I started to take a step away from the door, Graham’s tone changed into something less sympathetic. “He saw you naked?”
I couldn’t hear her response, maybe she didn’t have one or maybe it was a simple nod. Had he walked in and seen Evie like that, I would have been upset too … not at Evie, just the situation.
“Did that turn you on?”
However, I would not have asked her that, even if the thought crossed my mind. Lila wasn’t turned on by me seeing her; she was horrified. I felt her horrific fear and embarrassment.
“Are you sure?”
Again, I didn’t hear her answer. And I should have walked away, but I couldn’t. My trust in Graham was complicated, to put it mildly. I didn’t trust him to do right by his wife, and I hated the feeling that settled in my gut, but I couldn’t help it. He coveted my wife too much. Where did that leave Lila? Well, that was what I wanted to know. So, I listened.
She grunted.
He shushed her.
“When I fuck you, do you think of him?” he asked in a strained voice as the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping together crawled through the cracks around the door, a whisper … an erotic echo.
I didn’t want to know that answer. Running a rough hand through my hair, I took slow steps away from the door, giving myself time to pull my shit together before Evie looked at me. Even if I thought of telling her the truth, it wasn’t going to be on a holiday trip with the kids.
With each step, I focused on the ringing in my ears—Lila.
I felt a mix of sadness and an overall dull, numbing pain. Was it the news?
Did I feel her?
Did her emotional pain seep into my existence? Was it what they were doing in the bedroom?
Did she not enjoy it?
I just wanted to rid her from my body, but I couldn’t. I took a part of Lila or maybe she took a part of me that day on the mountain. It fucking sucked not having complete control, a broken autonomy like someone else was pulling the strings. I was nothing but a puppet, a voodoo doll.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Graham
I fucked my wife and thought about my best friend. I hated the bruises on her back; it made it more difficult to picture Evelyn because she didn’t have bruises on her back. No … Evelyn’s back was perfect.
Everything about Evelyn was perfect, except she married the wrong man. She let him crawl between her legs and put babies in her belly. That didn’t please me. But I would eventually forgive her, and we would raise Franz and Anya as our own.
Franz … who the fuck names their kid that?
“Graham … it … it hurts …” Lila whined.
It hurt because we didn’t fit like I fit with Evelyn. I stopped. The last thing I needed was Lila sulking like a victim after Ronin saw her situation. I could barely touch her without her skin blooming in shades of reds and blues. She collapsed forward, burying her face in the pillow, leaving her marred back staring at me and a raging hard-on pulsing for Evelyn. I closed my eyes where the only thing I could see was Evelyn. Then I jerked off onto Lila’s back.
Did I hate myself for allowing the four of us to get into such a pickle? Of course. I thought my pursuit of Lila would make Evelyn jealous. Did I develop misplaced feelings for Lila in the process? Naturally. She wasn’t a terrible person, just not the person for me. Lila was regrettable collateral damage.
But it went too far. I didn’t see the signs, and I let it go too far.
A husband and two kids. How did I let that happen? How did Evelyn let that happen? I married Lila, but I didn’t put a fucking baby in her. I wanted Evelyn to pay for everything, but not as much as I just wanted her. So I’d take her baggage. I just needed to wait for Ronin to fuck up their marriage and for Lila to … well, I wasn’t sure yet.
Sometimes tragic things happened, like her cancer. If anything happened to Lila, Evelyn would feel destroyed, broken beyond repair.
Lucky for her, I would be there like I was always there to pick up the pieces … to save the day.
CHAPTER NINE
Evelyn
I put on my bikini while Ronin unpacked his clothes, Franz played in his room, and Anya jumped on our bed. “I’m going to get the kids snacks while you finish getting ready for the beach. Don’t let Miss Wild Thing fall off the bed.”
“Okay,” he mumbled.
“Is something wrong?” I canted my head, adjusting the ties on my bikini bottoms.
Ronin glanced over at me from the dresser where he tucked a few pairs of shorts into the top drawer. “No. Nothing is wrong.” He smiled.
I didn’t completely buy it because he could fake his smile, but he couldn’t fake the look in his eyes. On a slow nod, I mirrored his smile, and if he could read me as well as I could read him, then he would have seen the doubt in my eyes. But if he did, he didn’t say anything.
“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen. Grab the sunscreen and bag of towels when you come out.”
“Will do.”
I shuffled my bare feet down the hallway, curling my toes into the plush rug with each step before poking my head into Franz’s room. He didn’t even look up from his Lego creation. When I stepped into the kitchen designed for royalty, I stopped and shook my head. The kitchen alone had to be worth twice as much as the value of my house.
Green granite counters, warm woods mixed with stainless steel appliances, two islands, one as big as a continent. An impressive fireplace anchored one end of the room by a large dining table. A flat screen TV. Multiple sinks.
“Who lives like this?” I whispered to myself, shuffling toward a long section of cabinets, hoping I could find something along the lines of a box of crackers.
“Fuck me …” Graham’s voice behind me sent a chill along my spine, erecting the hairs along my neck. Why did just the sound of his voice feel so … violating?
I swallowed and kept walking like he didn’t affect me. “Watch your language, please. There are kids in the house. And I’m certain the only person who will F you is Lila because for whatever reas
on, she finds you attractive.” I started opening cabinet doors.
Complete bullshit. Graham had sex appeal, the rich guy kind. I preferred the ski patrol kind. But there was no way I would ever feed his ego by admitting that he always looked like a model walking off the cover of a fashion magazine. Women made fawning over him their favorite pastime.
But not me.
“I can’t swear because there are children in the house, but you can walk around in that pathetic excuse for a bikini? Is your husband really going to let you out of the house wearing that?”
“Yes,” I replied with as much confidence as I could muster. As I raised onto my toes to grab a box of round crackers from the top shelf, Graham pressed his body to my back, pinning me to the counter. I sucked in a sharp breath not expecting him to do that, not expecting to feel him hard against my backside.
Graham reached for the crackers, caging me with his body. “Well, then he’s fucking stupid,” he whispered, retrieving the crackers.
I slowly exhaled as he set them on the counter in front of me and took a step back so I could turn around.
I wanted to scream … really scream at him for crossing a line that should never ever have been crossed.
For every touch.
For every look.
For every word whispered—as if not saying it aloud or in front of Lila and Ronin made it okay. How did I tie myself to the Devil? How did I feed my best friend to the most dangerous wolf?
Always … the score was always the Porters: everything. Needy, broke, desperate, manipulated Evelyn: nothing.
“What is wrong with you?” I clenched my teeth, gritting out the words as quietly as possible.
He crossed his arms over his white T-shirt-clad chest, lips twisted. “I’m not following.”
I shot a million daggers at him, sliding my gaze to the erection tenting his swim trunks and giving a tiny nod toward it.
He didn’t follow my gaze. Why would he? He knew damn well what I was referring to. “I just left the bathroom where my wife was showering. But if you keep staring at it, you might have to take part of the blame … or credit. However you want to look at it.”
The Life You Stole Page 6