Criminal: A Bad-Boy Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

I don’t know what to say to that, because even
though I know they’re not there, part of my mind tricks me into
thinking I just haven’t seen them in a while. As if they’re
not really gone, they’re just not around.

The thought breaks my heart, and I push it away.

"I miss you. You always looked out for me, even
though you never had to," I whimper, my voice pathetic.

"I tried."

He's still being short with me, but at least he's
talking. That makes me feel a little better, and I imagine opening my
door, going to his room, curling up with him. Feeling his skin
against mine. Just like we had on the couch all those times. I don't
even know what part of him I'm craving. The part of him that makes me
feel like he's my hero, that he'll always protect me? Or the part of
him that makes women lose their minds, willing to give up so much
just for a chance to sleep with him?

I shudder at the thought, because deep down, I know I
want both. I want him, wholly and utterly.

"When did things get so... fucked up," I
say softly, my body sticky, and my sex throbbing with heat. The
tension between us is driving me mad in more than one way, and his
words keep echoing in my mind. The intensity in which he had said
them.

"I don't know, Abby," he says with a deep
gravel to his tone, sleeplessness getting to him too.

"Was it the drugs?"

"Naw... that was just a side effect."

"Then why? Why'd you move away?"

There's a long pause, and I'm afraid he won't answer.
Lord knows I'd asked him that question enough over the years, and
never got one. The clock in the kitchen ticks past the seconds, the
sound echoing through the quiet of his house. I start drifting
between sleep and wakefulness.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

His voice makes my eyes flutter back open, and I
wonder if I heard him right."You hurt me more by leaving,"
I croak in return, that lump in my throat making it hard to even
speak.

Another long silence spreads out between us, and
again I want to go into his room, to see his face. But it's easier
like this in some ways, not knowing.

I lick my lips.

"You never even told me you got arrested. Mom
and dad, they never told me..."

"I asked them not to," he says quickly. "I
didn't want to worry you, Abby. You didn't need that on your plate,
not with college coming up."

"But they spent all my college money on that. On
your bail, and it still hasn't gone to trial?"

"It's not fast and they've been delaying it. And
I didn't know mom and dad... I didn't know they were in so deep. I
never would've asked otherwise, but I didn't want to owe that asshole
anything more than I had to."

Was he talking about Ryder?

A chill went through me, and my anger gave way to
exhaustion.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply as we both drift to
sleep.

"We're going to get this done, Ryder. This is
the last fucking bit of your shit I'm moving, and after that, I'm
done. No more threats, no more fucking with Abigail. She gets fired;
that's it."

Ryder is giving me the smuggest fucking smile, and I
feel like pummeling it off his pretty boy face. He looks like a movie
star, but he’s colder than any man I've ever met.

I sneer at him, folding my arms across my chest.

"This is it, Ryder, do you understand? You let
this thing go to trial, you get me off, and you let her go if I do
this for you."

"Sure," he says in that way that makes me
instinctively not trust him.

But I don't have a choice.

There's only one way I can deserve Abigail, and
that's if I get clean of this mess I got into trying to run from her.
From how she makes me feel. No woman should ever make me feel like
she does, and I've fucked dozens of them trying to prove that to
myself, and my thoughts always go back to her.

Abigail.

From the way she tugs on her hair when she's angry to
the way she always frowns at her reflection right before going out.
Everything about her just gets in under my skin, and when I saw how
she looked at me the other night... I was going to lose my mind if I
didn't at least see if she felt the same for me.

Even if it meant running drugs with some of the worst
people I've met.

"Fine. Tonight, you do this thing for me, and
you and your little sister," he says, waving in the air, "can
go. But if you fuck up? She's the one that's going to pay."

"Drinks, shots?" I'm trying my best to
treat this like a normal night, but I have a bad feeling in my
stomach.

I woke up excited to see Kaiden this morning, but he
was already gone.

No note, no text, no nothing.

And my instinct is to worry that I scared him off
again and put more distance between us.

I give one of the men at the table his whiskey and
cola, glancing around the bar. No sight of Kaiden, but honestly, that
wasn't unusual. I'm just being paranoid.

I move to the next table, handing them their drink
before going back to the bar. It's a slow night, and I'm getting
exhausted fast.

I refill my shot glasses, putting others in the
dishwasher when I realize I forgot my phone in my purse. I curse and,
with a quick apology to the bartender, run back into the office. It's
pitch black, but I always put my bag in the same place. I find it and
turn it on, hoping for a text from Kaiden, but there's nothing.

I sigh, and then I hear the shifting of a chair.
Gasping, I look up to see Ryder approaching me slowly. I didn't even
know he was working tonight. He usually takes off before midnight.

"Sorry, Ryder, I just needed to check my phone."

He tut-tuts.

"Checking your phone on work hours? I didn't
take you for such a bad girl," he says, and through the light of
my phone, I can see him leering at me.

I remember back to my first day when I met him,
liking the way he looked at me. His gorgeous face, his strong,
masculine form... it was hard not to be attracted to him.

But now all I feel is fear, and I think he can kind
of sense it. Especially when he reaches out and touches some of my
hair, his hand grazing along the shell of my ear.

I flinch away and his smile widens.

"But I bet you
are
a bad girl, aren't
you? I see you, prancing in here with your short skirts, your low-cut
tops, just begging for it," he says, his hand running down my
neck. I'm too scared to even move, though I'm desperately trying to
force my legs to run, to get me away from him.

For Kaiden to come in and save me.

Anything.

His smile is feral, and I can smell his cologne in
the air as he leans in, tucking hair behind my ear and whispering in
it:

"I bet you like it up the ass, huh? Prissy girl
like you already looks like she's got somethin' stuck up there."

He grabs my wrist, and I try to yank it away, only
for him to put more force into it. Making my hand touch against his
bulge, his hand moving overtop mine and making me feel it throb
against my touch. I pull away, but he pins me to the wall with his
body, his scent overwhelming me.

And then it's all over. He pulls back and returns to
his desk as if nothing happened, clicking on the desk lamp once
again.

"Get the fuck outta here, girl, you got a shift
to finish."

I didn't have to be told twice.

I ran out the door, back into the dingy club and the
oppressive music. My skin is burning with heat and anger, fear almost
crippling me. But I can't tell the bartender what happened, so I grab
my tray and simply go back to work.

Kaiden, where are you?