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Yeah, she had wasted those years.
She was wasting her time now, she thought as she heard the back door open. She would have let him know she was there if she’d had a chance—she was turning to head back into the kitchen when Elijah’s comment stopped her in her tracks.
“She’s not Betts, Graham.” Elijah’s voice was heavy, filled with regret.
“I didn’t say she was,” Graham answered and Lyrica heard the sound of the fridge opening and closing.
“You should have stayed the hell away from her,” Elijah growled then, his voice harder, colder than she could have imagined possible. “Let her love—”
“An accountant, manager, or landscaper?” Graham gave a short, mocking bark of laughter. “Fuck you, Elijah. I told you this subject was finished. Now let it go.”
“Let Lyrica go, then,” the other man snapped back at him. “Stop hanging around her like some dark, tortured warrior. You’ve done just enough to keep that girl hanging on without giving her any part of yourself. Where’s the fairness in that?”
“Drop it, Elijah.” Graham’s voice was dangerously soft now.
“She’s . . . no more than a stand-in for her . . .” Elijah’s accusation sent a wave of agony ripping through Lyrica’s heart as she heard something heavy thump into the wall.
Probably Elijah.
Stepping to the doorway silently, she saw Elijah shoved into the wall, Graham’s forearm braced against his throat, his back tense, every muscle defined as he held the younger man firmly in place.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Grating, rasping with fury, Graham’s voice carried clearly to her.
“Don’t I?” Elijah bit out fiercely, doing nothing to fight back. “I might not know what happened or how it happened, but what I do know is that she and Lyrica resemble each other enough that it’d be damned easy for you to pretend—”
“Don’t make me kill you, Elijah. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about and repeating that crap will only hurt Lyrica.”
“Why do you care?” Elijah’s lips drew back furiously, though still he did nothing to fight back. “You don’t intend to keep her. You just intend to fuck a little pain out of your system before you send her back home to her brother. Tell me, Graham, did you call her name when you were—”
“No!” Lyrica jumped forward as Graham’s fist drew back, the power bunching in his shoulder and arm a clear indication that Elijah was about to be on the receiving end of something Graham would never be able to take back.
“Let him go,” she whispered as the two men froze.
Elijah’s gaze was filled with regret, but purpose. Jerking his head around, Graham’s gaze was so razor sharp it sliced into her soul as it locked onto hers.
Endless, bitter fury seemed to reflect in his eyes now. For the first time she was seeing the soul of the man, and the bleak misery there had her flinching at the pain of it.
His pain.
And now hers. Because now she knew she truly was no more than his latest “flavor,” and she couldn’t even hate him for it, because she’d known. She’d known all along that she would never be more than that.
Slowly, Graham moved back, his fingers flex
ing as the muscles at his jaw clenched violently.
“Get out!” He snarled, turning on Elijah with the promise of certain violence. “Now!”
Elijah gave a hard, disgusted twist of his lips before turning, gripping the door, and slamming out of the kitchen and onto the back porch.
Graham swung back around, the gold in his eyes brilliant now as he watched her for several long, tense moments.
“Eavesdropping doesn’t become you, Lyrica,” he stated furiously.
“Yeah, and it’s true what they say, eavesdroppers hear nothing good of themselves, right?”
“Fuck!” A hard grimace tightened his face as he raked his fingers furiously through his hair. “I would have never let you hear that bullshit.” He glared back at her as his arms dropped to his sides once again. “And that’s what it was, fucking bullshit.”
It was more. She could see it in his eyes, in the furious pain burning in the golden depths.
