AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I know all about relying on villains to protect me from other villains. I’ve lived it.
And died to it.
“Thank you,” I say, standing. “I know you’d be capable of protecting me, but it’s not the kind of freedom I’m chasing. If we could just work out the details for the necklace, I’ll be out of your hair.”
He nods in agreement, and after sauntering away to grab a pen and notebook from his desk, he writes down all the information on the jeweler, referring to his phone a few times. Glancing up at me, he asks, “Is the time important?”
I ponder that. I’ve got a ten-hour drive ahead, and I’d like to be settled with the security system before the jeweler checks the serial number. It’s late afternoon now. “Four p.m., if it isn’t any trouble.”
“No trouble,” he says, still scribbling down some information. “The whole staff is under our thumb, so we’ll handle the threats. No worries there either.”
I titter a quiet chuckle, my chest tightening at the threats that will undoubtedly be unraveling in a frenzy. “Wells may be the worst to—”
“I’ll handle him.” He waves me off, plainly nettled by the idea that Wells could be an issue.Cockfighting.“He’ll at least know you’re in one piece. And luring the people after you makes his job easier. He should fucking thank me.”
Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that.
I’m not sure why his flippant remark about Wells slices me the way it does, but I’m suddenly consumed with worry. What if he doesn’t come after me? What if he really was willing to let me go and I’m deluding myself into believing he cares enough to chase me? What if, like the phantom ache between my legs that I feel every damn morning upon waking, I’m nothing more than that? A quiet whisper of what was?
Ryker scans my face, his icy eyes and sculpted features melting into domineering agitation. That’s probably as gentle as he gets. “You’re staying for dinner.”
My mouth falls open to protest, but he doesn’t allow me to speak.
“It isn’t a request. You’re staying. Rena will join us here in the suite.”
There’s an undercurrent to his demand. My good-faith information earned me not just an invitation to La Lune Noire, but one to their inner circle. Another family to leave behind.
“If Axel sees me—”
“No one will contact Wells or his crew tonight,” he assures me. “I’ll see to it. He’ll be calling us tomorrow anyway.”
With that, he trades me the jeweler info for the necklace and a note with two pictures of Wells taped to it: one from his service years, the other from my painting—best I could do. He locks the ruby necklace and the envelope in a safe under his desk and swipes his phone, presumably for our dinner arrangements, while I fidget, torn between staying and fleeing.
Amid my internal debate, he ushers me out to the dining room. “Sit,” he orders.
And I do. Not out of fear or obligation. But because that barking command was a taste of home. An echo of my husband, the man whose orders shattered me and made me whole.
Rena waltzes in moments later, arms out and squawking as I bounce up to greet her. She made good on her piercing chains with an elegant nose-to-eyebrow adornment, and with the thin materialof her shirt, it looks as though her nipples have capitalized on their prime piercing real estate. God love her.
It floods me with thoughts of the clamps Wells was so fond of—the delightful sting of the pain and pleasure, magnified by his praise. I can’t imagine exploring that ache inside me with anyone else, but I brush off the reminiscence.
Rena swallows me with an alarming amount of force, a hug reaching my bones and heart and forgotten past. “Where the fuck have you been, girl?”
Ryker levels her with an admonishing glare, but I laugh and simply say, “A secret mission of sorts.”
She skips backward, a wistful chide on her magenta-painted lips. “Secret mission? I tracked you down to a hospital in Ohio, where I presume you dyed your hair this foxy brown. The only secret is what the hell was wrong—”
“You were told to leave it the fuck alone!” Ryker scolds, his booming tenor ricocheting off every solid surface in the suite.
Rena flip-flops her hand like she’s swatting at a bug. “Please. Like you get to school me on that shit,Mr.Walk Away.”
Ryker snarls, bulldog mode in overdrive. “Axel and I don’t want you mixed up in whatever the hell this is!”
She howls, twisting her pink-and-gold strands, and rolling her wild hazel eyes—a brighter green than I remember. “And yet you’re arranging a quiet dinner for us all? How hypocritically quaint.”
I’m amused by the exchange, but also sickened by the derisive chasm I’m wedging between them. I’ve endured enough of that for a lifetime. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. Thank you for everything, Ryker. I—”
“For Christ’s sake, Ivy.” A deep groove pierces Ryker’s forehead as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sit the fuck down and have a meal with my defiant pest.”
