“Because I heard someone coming in, and I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” he signs with curiosity written in his expression.
I shrug. “Go down the list. My father has a ton of enemies. You should know that.”
“I do know that.” He glances between my face and the gun. Then he cautiously inches forward and reaches for the weapon, carefully watching me as he removes it from my hand.
A breath eases from Ryler’s lips once he has the gun. He checks the clip to see how many bullets are in there then shakes his head as he tucks it into the back of his jeans.
“Before you go using a gun, you might want to check to make sure it’s loaded,” he signs, freeing a trapped breath, seeming relieved.
I press my lips together, feeling idiotic. “I don’t know how to load it.”
“That’s a good thing,” he assures me. “You shouldn’t be carrying it around. Fuck, you shouldn’t even have it in your apartment to begin with. Where did you even get it?”
“My father gave it to me,” I say flatly. “Where else would I get it?”
He hesitates then raises his hands in front of him to sign, “Well, I’m going to hang onto it.”
“But I need it for…” What am I supposed to say? I have hallucinations of my brother and he warned me someone is coming for me. That there was a bloody note on the doorstep, left by someone who knows my dirty, little secret and wants to kill me.
I stupidly told Ryler during the night of the concert that I’m crazy. I never fully explained why, and I’m sure he probably chalked it up to me being drunk. If I told him about my brother, though, he might run for his damn life.
But isn’t that what I want,
For him to go,
because I don’t trust him?
Right?
Right?
Right?
I honestly don’t know.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ryler wonders with his brows knit. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” I force a yawn and stretch my arms above my head. “I’m just tired. I should really get to bed.”
“You want me to make you some coffee?” he offers. “Or we could go get some. I know it’s late, but there’s a shop a couple of blocks away that stays open late.”
“No, I don’t want you to break the rules again and take me out. The last thing I need is another visit from my mother.” I wait for him to take the hint and leave, even though only part of me wants him to go.
He studies me with his head slanted to the side. “I can’t go,” he signs. When I frown, he adds, “Sorry, but your father told me to stay with you tonight.”
My gaze wanders over my shoulder to my bedroom, specifically the bed. My skin tingles at the idea of being in that bed with him again. It felt so wonderful to sleep in his arms, to be held like that, and oddly, at the time, I’d felt safe. If he stayed again, he could erase all the memories of what Evan did to me. But happens when morning rolls around? Would he go to my father and report everything we did?
“What’s going on? Why is he making you stay the night with me?” When I look at Ryler again, I find him staring at my chest. I tip my chin down then internally cringe at the sight of my nipples poking through my shirt. My body betrays me as it hums to life from his attention. I cross my arms over my chest, and Ryler tears his gaze away and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.
“Something’s been going on with his business. He’s pissed off some people or something, I’m guessing.” He pauses, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “How much do you know about what your father does?”
“How much do you know about what he does?” I quip with my brows elevated in insinuation.
We exchange an intense look, and life sparkles inside me. But then I wonder how many secrets Ryler keeps from me, and the life fizzles and dies. Still, I end up caving first, his gaze too overwhelming for me to endure.
When I look away, he hooks a finger under my chin and forces my attention back to him. My heart jolts in my chest from his touch as the skin-to-skin contact lavishly warms my body.
Then he pulls his hand away, leaving me chilly again. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Emery,” he signs. “I’m not the enemy here. I don’t want to hurt you, only help you.”
Truth and trust go together hand in hand.
But I don’t trust anyone.
Not even Ryler.
I might have once.
But now that trust has evaporated to dust.
“You work for my father.” My tone is off-pitch, uneven, laced with fear from everything I felt today when I found the envelope and when Evan forced me down on my bed. “Therefore, you are the enemy in my eyes. You proved that when you told him about the concert.”
Uttering something negative about my father to anyone who knows him has me terrified out of my damn mind. But Ryler needs to understand that we’re not friends, even if he did write beautiful poetry about me and took me out for one of the best nights of my life. Even if his touch makes me feel… something.
Two seconds later, reality crashes down on me, though. I realize what I’ve done, how big of a mistake I just made.
“Oh, God, please don’t tell him that.” I shuffle away from Ryler. “Please, please, please, don’t tell him.” I back down the hallway like a skittish cat. Tears well up in my eyes and regret seeps into my bones. “I didn’t mean it,” I whisper. “My father’s not a bad person. He just cares about me.”