Page 22 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)

I nodded once and stared at the shoe lying under his bed. Bracing. Holding my breath. I even pushed my ass out a little more in case he couldn’t find the fucking hole. “Are you going to do something or just stare at it?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He moved to the right and grabbed the lube from his side drawer. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

I wanted to look over my shoulder and see what he was doing, but I’d chicken out if I did. I just needed to get fucked by him and I’d reboot. My factory settings would default, and I’d be saved.

His hand rested on my hip again.

My mouth flooded with saliva.

He played with my tight hole, making my panic set in.

“It’s just my finger,” he said, warning me a little too late, I think, because I’d started spiraling. When he pushed it inside me, I vomited. Scrambling out of his reach, I left him fully clothed on the floor of his bedroom and ghosted him.

So now I’m here at Ryker’s, lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

He’s out meeting some rich cougar tonight who’s probably going to pay him a grand to eat her pussy and call her princess.

I’m on babysitting duty with Miss Ashley.

I think she’s getting worse. Her cancer is spreading, and I’m scared to calculate statistically how long she might have left in this world.

Ry doesn’t like to leave her alone, so someone’s usually with her at night until he gets back.

Sometimes it’s Knox. A lot of times it’s D. Tonight, I’m the lucky one.

At about three thirty in the morning, the apartment door unlocks, and Ryker quietly creeps in. We silently head into his room, and I close the door.

“How was she tonight?” he asks, pulling off his suit jacket. His hair falls in his eyes as he looks down and his cheeks are more hollow. I think he’s going to crash out if he keeps escorting so much.

“Real good,” I lie. “She ate some of the leftover spaghetti and we played Uno. The woman shows no mercy.”

Ryker chuckles, but there’s no humor in his eyes. I think he’s dead inside like me. I want to ask him how he does it. How the fuck does he work as an escort and do things he doesn’t want to do?

I can’t even do things I’m desperate to do.

He sits on the floor, one leg propped up, the other stretched out and sighs.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted.” Tipping his head back, he closes his eyes, and I can’t bring myself to ask a fucking thing.

He’s going through so much. Plus, I don’t want him to know what happened to me. What if he looks at me differently?

“You and Knox are over, aren’t you?”

His question hangs in the air while we sit in the dark.

“I think so.” I don’t know how we couldn’t be. Everything we had is tainted.

“Does that mean you’re not even friends now?” When I don’t answer, he turns to me. “He’s a mess, Alex.”

So am I, I want to say, but keep my mouth shut.

“If you’re going to break his heart, give him the reason why.”

There’s no point. Knox already knows.

“I don’t ever want to hurt him,” I say, like that’ll help my case.

Ryker frowns and looks away from me. “Then you better answer his call. He’s never ignored one of yours.”

“He doesn’t call for important stuff. He’s just bored and trying to start shit.”

Ry doesn’t bite. “Even if it isn’t important to you, that doesn’t mean it isn’t important to him.”

“What is?”

“Whatever the fuck he’s calling you about, idiot.”

I’m too tired to keep this conversation going. “I’m heading out.”

“Stay the night.” He gestures towards his window. “Not even Dmitri walks these streets alone at three in the morning.”

Fear strikes me and it’s the first time I consider the fact that I’m not safe. I’ve never not felt safe in any of our neighborhoods. Knox and I go on midnight runs all the time and I’ve never worried.

But Knox isn’t with me anymore.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” Heading back to the couch, I sleep there so Ryker can have some peace and quiet in his room.

I think he’s screaming in his head as loud as I am in mine …

Knox sets out two plates loaded with chicken salad sandwiches on brioche buns and BBQ chips. I swear, everything this motherfucker cooks tastes gourmet. “Did you make the chips, too?” I’m only half teasing.

“If I’d had more advanced notice, I would have.” Knox bites into his sandwich and chews. His jaw muscles flex and I have to look away. This man is pure sunshine, and it’s been forever since I’ve felt that kind of warmth.

“Maybe next time I’ll call and place an order.”

Knox laughs, popping a chip in his mouth. “Go ahead. You won’t be disappointed when you taste what I create for you. ”

“I believe it.” This sandwich gets better with every bite. “You’ve never once disappointed me.”

That fact lands soft as a feather onto the table.

He looks down at his plate and takes another bite.

“I’m sorry for asking you to take me that day,” I say, my stomach squirming. “When I told you to fuck—”

“I know what you’re talking about. There’s no need to bring it up.” He wipes his mouth off with a napkin and shame crawls up my spine. “You don’t have to apologize for shit, Alex. You did what you thought you had to do to make yourself better. That’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I put you in the worst position and ruined everything after that.”

“We were young and dumb. I wasn’t equipped to help you through your trauma. If anyone should apologize here, it’s me.”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“I wish I could have done more for you,” he says. “I would have done anything for you then, and that hasn’t changed.”

Sitting back in my chair, I force myself to take in a full breath.

This is the first time we’ve had the balls to discuss the crash-and-burn part of our relationship.

Once I finally turned my phone back on and called him the morning after I slept over at Ryker’s, I’d gone into robot-mode and gave only neutral responses.

He seemed so grateful to hear from me that he took the bare minimum, and we went back to hanging out as friends.

We never talked about that day, or anything that came before it, ever again.

“I just wanted to overwrite my system,” I admit.

“You’ re not a fucking computer, Alex. Stop treating yourself like one.”

He’s right, but I don’t know how to do that.

“I’m still so fucking mad,” I finally acknowledge. “I’m furious that he died like that.” Meeting Knox’s gaze, does he see me as a monster for wanting more revenge? I can’t tell what he’s thinking. His face is blank, which means he’s hiding his feelings.

“Died like what, exactly?” Knox fishes, as if he doesn’t already know the story.

“Quickly.” I pluck a chip and shove it in my mouth.

“How do you know he died quickly?”

“Because that’s what the reports said.”

“Maybe the reports were wrong.”

What the fuck? I don’t need him to be a devil’s advocate. I want him to be my advocate. “What the hell, Knox?”

“He didn’t die quickly.”

“Yes, he did.” Now I’m fucking mad all over again. “He blew up. Probably didn’t even see it coming. Just… boom …dead.”

And I cannot explain how much it infuriates me.

“That’s not true.” Knox sits back and glowers at me from across the table. “He knew what was fucking coming, Alex.”

My heart skids to a stop. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying he didn’t die quickly, and he saw it fucking coming.” He takes another bite of his sandwich. There’s no waver in his voice. No flare of humor in his eyes. He simply chews and waits patiently for me to either say something else or keep my mouth shut.

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because I’m the one who lit the motherfucking match.”