Page 46

The second she’s out of the house, I whirl on my roommate, decking him right in the jaw. “Don’t let her in here again.” He straightens immediately, rubbing his jaw as his eyes flick between me and the door.

“What the hell, man?” he lets out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re an idiot,” he says as he walks to the fridge and grabs a bag of peas.

I swipe my keys from the counter and head for the door. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Out.”

He jogs to catch up to me. “It’s raining, we have a game in two days .

Is this a good idea? You’re mad, I get it.

But don’t put yourself in danger over it.

” He says it like it’s nothing. Like the woman I gave my heart to didn’t just take a mallet to it.

I was trying to protect her, only to find out she’s been working with the enemy.

A fool, that’s what I’ve been. And right now, I need to ride.

“Move,” I say slowly as I push past him.

I don’t stop for conversation, I don’t stop to talk to Abby, who’s sitting in her car with her eyes closed and tears streaming down her face.

Hmm, she deserves that. Actions have consequences.

Luckily, I found out before she could put whatever twisted plan they had in action.

My bike roars to life beneath me, the vibration rattling my bones, not enough to shake this feeling, though. I don’t know that anything will be able to shake it .

I twist the throttle harder than I should, the tires sliding against the pavement as I take off into the pouring rain.

I need the distance, need the speed, needing anything other than the suffocating weight that’s lodged itself in the middle of my chest. The rain pelts against my skin, but I barely feel it.

My pulse, a constant drum beat in my ears, as my teeth bite into my tongue with so much force I taste blood.

Abby. Freaking Abby. I shouldn’t even let her take up a second of my thoughts. Shouldn’t be replaying the way she looked at me, like I was the one hurting her. Like she had any right to be hurt when she was the one who—

I shake my head, cursing under my breath as I weave through traffic. No. I’m done with letting people in. This is why I fought it so long. Why I pushed everyone away, kept them at arm's length. I should have seen this coming, should have known she was too good to be true. Too good to be mine.

Betrayal burns deep in my gut, accompanied by the sorrow I feel at the loss of her, or who I thought she was.

Pissed because I actually let myself believe in her, that she was different, that what we had was real.

The rain bounces off the ground as it pours down heavier.

I should have listened to Zeke, the road is a glistening death trap.

I should turn around, but going home means leaving me to my thoughts.

And that means feelings, and respectfully, screw that.

My stubborn self pushes through, keeps running from the mess Abby made of my head, that is, until headlights come out of nowhere. I don’t have time to swerve. I should have told her I loved her was the last thing that crossed my mind before the car slammed into the front of my bike .

My vision spins, my bike flies sideways, and I’m airborne. Gravity does its thing as I hit the ground hard. The asphalt burns into me, ripping my jacket, my jeans, and finally my skin. My ankle twists beneath me, and a sharp pain explodes up my leg, stealing the breath from my lungs.

For a second, all I hear is rain. The distant hum of my engine still idling somewhere close by, my ragged breathing, and then the sound of heels clicking against the pavement.

I force my eyes open, blinking against the rain as the figure makes its way closer. A flash of lightning picks the perfect time to light the sky, bringing me face to face with the last person I ever wanted to see again. Nikki.

I try to push up, but the pain radiating through my ankle has me dropping back onto my elbows. I glare up at her, hissing through my teeth. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

She crouches down, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. “Miss me, Tate?”

I fight the urge to give her a piece of my mind, although it would be justified since she’s breaking her restraining order. “If you were trying to kill me, you should’ve tried harder.”

Her smile widens. It’s evil, pure malice, her eyes are colder than I remember. “Who said I was trying to kill you?” Before I can respond, something sharp presses against my neck. Ahh, shit.

I barely register the burn before my world turns black. The last thing I hear is Nikki’s voice laced with smug satisfaction. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

I wake up cold, the kind of cold you feel in your bones.

The ache that makes you pray for sunshine, for heat, warmth of any kind.

I blink against the haze, shifting slightly before the pain in my ankle stops me in my tracks.

I grit my teeth. This is not good. I take inventory of the rest of my body, noting nothing else seems to be hurting.

I survey my surroundings: high ceilings, moonlight filtering through dust-covered stained glass, and rows of forgotten artifacts.

A shuffle of movement draws my attention.

Nikki leans against a giant marble pillar, arms crossed, watching me like I’m the main attraction in her personal circus, which I guess to her, I am.

“What the hell is this?” My throat is raw.

I have no idea how long I was out, but it wasn’t long enough to give me the strength to fight this she-devil.

Her head tilts to the side. “An overdue conversation.” Something flickers in her eyes. She’s not as in control as she wants me to think.

I glare. “You pull this off all by yourself, or is there some other psychopath I should be thanking for this meeting?”

Her lips twitch. “You always were a sharp one.” She steps closer, crouching in front of me. She opens her mouth, but is stopped by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps. The grin is back, malicious as she winks at me.

“Finally awake, huh?” The voice is familiar, smooth, and casual, like we were two kids kicking the ball back and forth. A voice I trusted. I lift my head, my stomach revolting when my gaze lands on him.

Tristan.

He stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, with not a care in the world. Like, he didn’t just have Nikki run me off the road and dump me here. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I drag a hand down my face.

He clicks his tongue. “That’s the welcome I get? Here I was thinking we were friends.” I snort. His words land like a slap in the face.

We’ve known each other for years, we played college soccer together. I visited him at The Beach House all the time. He knew my order, he’d laugh with me, and acted like he belonged in our world. The friendly neighborhood bartender. The guy I never saw coming.

I let out a slow breath, staring at him through the dull throbbing of my head. “Why am I here?” I’m tired, and my ankle is killing me, and my head isn’t far behind.

Tristan smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You Wilders don’t break easily, do you? I found that out with your brother and that stupid Kara woman.” What, what the hell does Greyson’s ex have to do with anything?

“You had something to do with Kara?” He nods. “Why?”

“Remember when my mom died, and I told you she had a dying wish?” he asks as he circles me like a shark in the water.

Confusion courses through me. What the heck do Kara and I have to do with this?

“She loved your dad. She wouldn’t shut up about him.

Do you know how it felt to grow up in the shadow of people who weren’t even in my family? ”

I shake my head, a hollow laugh escaping my throat. “This is about your mom?” I shift, pain so sharp I fight to keep from heaving, my eyes still locked on him. “About what? Some revenge mission because he married my mom and had kids?”

“My mom loved your dad the whole time they were in college together. She’d tutor him so he could keep his spot on the hockey team.

And then along came your mom, and he suddenly didn’t have time for mine anymore.

” Something dark flickers in his expression.

“She died believing your father destroyed her life. Her life would have been perfect if she had been the one to marry good ole’ William Wilder,” he says, his voice deceptively calm.

“And do you know what her last words were?” He takes a step closer, the moonlight casting shadows across his sharp jawline. “Ruin his life like he ruined mine.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, my fingers curling into my palms. Nails biting into my skin so hard that it takes the focus off the pain in my ankle. “I knew the way to ruin your dad was to ruin you or Greyson.” He shrugs, walking to the other side of the room.

“Nikki failed with you the first time. Then, Kara failed in Washington, but when Greyson came back to Tampa, he was so broken, I thought I’d finally done it.

He’d lose it, quit hockey, and break your dad's heart the way he broke my mom's. But then Hannah came along and put him back together.” His lip pulls up at the corner as he spins on his heel and puts his hand behind his back. “I figured after seeing you and Abby hate each other the way you did, she’d help me destroy you.”

He squats in front of me, and it takes everything in me not to swing. “But then you had to go and fall in love. Which, again, ruined my plans, so I was forced to adapt.” The realization hits harder than the crash did.

I force a breath, my voice tight. “She had nothing to do with this, did she?” My freaking temper, God if I would have just listened like she was begging me to, maybe I wouldn’t be here. Maybe I’d be curled up in bed with her, figuring this out together.

He chuckles, dropping his head to the side.

“Didn’t stop you from throwing her out like yesterday’s trash, though, did it?

” My breath seizes, my mind flicking to all the things she was trying to tell me earlier.

Be careful. My vision blurs as I continue to struggle to breathe.

She didn’t betray me. She wasn’t working with my ex.

She wasn’t feeding them information. She wasn’t lying to me.

The taste of iron fills my mouth as my teeth cut into my cheek.

I messed up. Tristan smirks so deep his dimple pops.

It’s like he knows exactly what’s going through my head.

Like he’s enjoying watching every second of me realizing my epic mistake.

“See, that’s the beauty of all this,” he drawls.

“You hit the detonate button all by yourself.”

I swallow hard, my throat constricting with every passing second. My heart hammers against my ribs. A pounding sound has all three of us whipping our heads toward the door. He growls, standing as he reaches for something behind his back.

“Tate!” No. No, she can’t be here. Her voice is raw, panicked, and then suddenly she’s in my line of sight.

Soaked from the rain, her hair wild, and the pieces that have fallen from her braids cling to her face.

Her eyes scan the room, landing on me and widening to their limits when she sees the state I’m in .

Tristan turns, letting out a heavy sigh. “Ahh, there she is. Our Knight in shining braids.” His villainous laugh fills the space, but she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even look at him as she crosses the space between us. She drops to her knees beside me as her shaking hands gently cradle my face.

Her eyes move over me, assessing like they do when she’s looking for injuries, when they land on the cuts and my ripped clothes, her mouth falls open. “What did they–”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off, a blatant lie.

I’m not fine, not even close. I haven’t been since the moment I pushed her away.

Her throat bobs, fingers moving to the sides of my neck, grounding me in a way I’m not worthy of.

I close my eyes and sink into this moment with her, only for it to be ruined by the clearing of a throat.

“Touching, really. But you two aren’t going anywhere.” Abby finally gives him the time of day, and that’s when I see it, the fury, the determination, the absolute rage in her eyes.

“I’d really love to see you try and stop us,” she snaps.