Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(7)

The banging on the door.

It’s much easier to nurse a heartbreak when you can’t hear the person trying to call you, because I don’t care what excuse he might have had—there isn’t one good enough to justify what he said and did.

If I thought sex could be messy, love is a goddamn disaster. One I was certain I never wanted to be a part of and now know for sure I don’t.

I blow out a loud breath, and Lucy shifts to look at me. “Don’t be sad that I have to go. We’ll see each other in a few days.”

Looking into her eyes and hearing her compassion for my misconstrued sadness has more tears threatening. I frame her face between my hands and kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to be with you or that I don’t miss you.”

“You miss my mama, don’t you?”

“I always do.”

“It’s okay,” she says, taking my hand and directing it to lie over my heart with hers atop it. “She’s still in here.”

“Always.” I fight another swell of emotion, realizing how much these past few months have changed the two of us—she has grown so much stronger, and I feel somehow weaker. She hugs me again, and I let her hold on for her as much as for myself. After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I murmur, “I need to get your stuff. Joey will be here in a minute.”

“Do I have to?”

“I know, Lu . . . soon.” My promise feels emptier now more than ever, but I give it to her anyway as I rise from the couch to grab her stuff . . . and to give me a moment to put my happy face back on, because as much as I need her here, it’s also brutally hard to remain cheerful when all I want to do is succumb to the tears.

I’m in her room when Lucy yells, “Joey’s here!”

It’s not two seconds before I’m walking out of the room to tell her not to answer the door until I make sure when I hear the squeal of excitement.

My heart drops, because before I even see the person standing in the doorway, I know who Lucy has just let in the house. I know because the sound she made—one of joy and excitement, with a little bit of a crush mixed in—is exactly how I used to feel at the prospect of seeing Ryker.

And then I hear the deep rumble of his voice, and every part of me wants to slide to the floor and cry at the hurt and the shame and the anger I feel over letting myself be duped by this man—at letting myself love this man—but I don’t. Instead, I steel myself to see him.

I knew he’d be back.

Ryker’s not a man who can be ignored or made to wait, so I knew he’d return.

“Auntie, Auntie.” Lucy tugs on his hand and pulls him into the house. “Look who came to see us!”

Every muscle in my face has to be told to move to force the smile that attempts to turn up my lips when I look at her. I’m sure the rest of my body language fails at selling the lie.

“Vaughn.” Ryker’s voice saying my name hurts more than I could have ever imagined.

“Come on, Lucy. You need to get your shoes on because Joey’s going to be here any minute,” I say and busy myself, moving to the family room where her sneakers were discarded, not daring to look at him myself.

“But, Auntie . . .”

“Vaughn.” My name is a plea and one I don’t want to heed as I move back across the space that feels so much smaller with him in it.

“C’mon, Lucy Loo. Let’s get your shoes on.” I drop to my knees before her—his subtle scent of soap and cologne clouding my thoughts, hurting my heart—as her expression falls from excitement to confusion over my actions. “Don’t.” It’s a low growl of warning when his hand closes over my biceps.

“You need to let me explain,” Ryker says. Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, and everything I feel is reflected in his.

And I don’t understand. How can he be hurt when he’s the one who caused this?

“The lady said not to touch her.” It’s Joey’s voice that speaks through the open doorway, and while I snap my head his way, Ryker is unfazed and remains looking at me.

“Not your business, man,” Ryker says, but his hand moves off my arm as he turns to stare Joey down.

“Vaughn? You okay?” Joey asks as his eyes move from Ryker to me to Lucy and back to Ryker.

“I’m—”

“She’s fine,” Ryker says, cutting me off as Joey takes a step forward. “I suggest you back off.”

“You son of a—”

“Hey,” I say, stopping Joey and stepping forward to halt the testosterone-laced confrontation that’s obviously brewing here, more than a little startled by Joey’s temper and protectiveness. And as much as I’d love for him to throw a punch at Ryker for me, it’ll do nothing to fix the burning ache in my chest that seeing him has caused.

“Something’s obviously wrong, Vaughn. Are you sure—”

“Outside,” I say as I push him off the threshold to the front porch, welcoming the fresh air that’s not clouded with everything that is Ryker.

Once the door shuts at my back, Joey looks at me with a mix of confusion and concern. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath.