Page 92 of Shattered Hearts
“Fine.” She nods but refuses to meet my eyes. “Move, please.”
Those two little words rip me right down the middle, like a torn sheet of paper. She wants me to get out of her way so she can get out. That’s all. So why do I feel like I’m dangling on a cliff and she’d rather watch me fall to my death than spend another second with me?
Guilt and vitriol roil together inside me as I force myself to step away from the door so she can climb out.
“This way.” A woman’s voice startles me.
When did Esmeralda get here? As one of the nurses in the Gallagher Medical Unit, Cian must have called her to check out Riley. That smug bastard thinks of everything.
Riley takes a step toward Esme and staggers. My arm wraps around her in a nanosecond. She still won’t look at me.
Her gaze darts between the nurse and Rory and then finally settles on me as she pitches on her tiptoes and smiles. “Don’t touch me.”
The gesture seems intimate to anyone watching, but Riley’s laced her low voice with venom.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she’s not happy with me.
Desperate fear and uncontained anger metastasize through my body. Worse than Riley’s rejection is the clear and full knowledge that her rejection is my fault. This isallmy fault. Yesterday, I was selfish, thoughtless, brash, and careless. And today, I was so mortified by my actions, so caught up in my own bullshit, I forgot about her.
I forgot who she is. That she has a life and a job and idiots coming after her. That I’d agreed to have her back. I left her all alone to fend for herself in this awful situation she didn’t ask for. Moving in with me wasmyidea.The whole point was to keep her safe, and I’ve failed her. All I’ve done is take advantage of her.
We may be back to square one, but damn if I’m not going to put on a show for the others.
Careful not to hurt her, I slide both arms around her, pulling her close and leaning down to whisper. “Oh, I’m going to touch you, angel. We’re acting, remember?”
Her startling blue eyes widen, and her soft gasp ignites a fire in my core. My lips coast over her neck. Over her jaw. Over the corner of her mouth. Her posture relaxes, hands sliding up to grip my biceps as that cold indifference in her gaze wars with desire. She wants to hate me—shouldhate me—but her body says otherwise.
I nip at her lip and suck on it, teasing her, tasting her. Kissing her softly, I stroke her disheveled hair. The motion is meant to comfort her, but I’m the one who’s comforted. Relieved that she’s okay and standing before me in one piece.
She could’ve been hurt much worse. Could’ve died.
Disgust, viscous and foul like rotting sewage, clogs my chest. Everything about me puts lives at risk.I’m the one they should have cut to pieces. Not Brianne.
And I should have been the one protecting Riley.
I have nothing to say for myself, no excuses to offer. I just want to take Riley upstairs and sit at her feet until she tells me what I have to do to make this right. We’re pretending. This isn’t real. We’re in the fucking mother of all messes, but I…I don’t want to let her go.
A throat clears, and I glance up to Cian’s raised eyebrows. Right. He’s probably wondering what the hell I’m doing getting involved with my fake wife.
I can’t care less about what he thinks, but Riley needs medical attention, and I need to hunt down the fuckers who hurt her.
Forcing myself to step back, I gently pry Riley’s hands from my arms and plant a kiss on her bruised wrist.
Her lip quivers. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Never claimed to.” I kiss her cheek. “Go get checked out. We’ll talk later.”
It takes everything in me not to run after her as she and Esme walk across the garage.
Rory drops his hand on my shoulder as Riley and Esme slip out of sight. “Finn?”
“Come on.” Cian locks the car and shoves the keys in his pocket. “Let’s go report to Shane.”
By the time we get to my father’s office, I’m so wracked with dread and remorse, my jaw won’t even open. As much as I hate that Cian was there instead of me, I’m glad I don’t have any talking to do in this meeting.
The three of us facing my dad’s desk usually reminds me of our childhood misadventures, of all the mischief we made and the trouble we got into gallivanting around the estate as boys. The only person missing is Darren.
“Some guys attacked me downtown.” Cian sets the cell phone on Dad’s desk. “I took out two of them and managed to get this.”