Last Kiss (3 page)

My stomach dropped. She wanted to make Reeve unhappy. She wouldn’t have cared unless she still loved him.

“Amber.” His voice behind me caused the ball to sink lower in my gut. In a flash, Reeve was at her side, opposite me in the bed. She reached her arms up to him, and he enfolded his around her.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she blubbered against his shirt.

“Shh, Angel. You know how I hate it when you cry.” He stroked her hair while she sobbed into his chest, and I sat frozen in a hell I’d never known. Whoever had decided that damnation was fire and brimstone was wrong. Hell was cold and ice and emptiness. Hell was watching the one I’d grasped so tightly slip through my fingers. Hell was realizing the one I’d come to love would never choose to love me.

I stood, but couldn’t take my eyes off the scene.

“I was stupid,” Amber said, and they could have been my own words. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve for you to let me back here.”

“You’re always welcome here. You know that.” Reeve pulled away from her. With his hands on each side of her face, he issued his own demand for the truth. “Tell me what he did to you. Tell me what he did and then just say the word and I’ll fucking kill him.”

Grasping at his forearms, she shook her head. “No, Reeve. You don’t want to start that. This was all my fault.”

“I don’t care what you did. He laid his hands on you, and he deserves to pay for that. Just say the word.”

I’d asked Reeve once if he was still close to his former lovers. He’d dodged the question. Now I saw the answer firsthand, and whether he was like this with all of them or just Amber didn’t matter. That he was like this with her was bad enough. In fact, it was the worst.

“Before you get ahead on your revenge scheming, Sallis, let’s get the girl well.” Jeb’s arrival was like a token sent from heaven. It broke the trance that Reeve and Amber had me in.

I stepped backward, into the shadows, barely aware of the conversation that continued.

“Please tell me it’s time for more painkillers,” Amber said, almost begging.

“We’ll talk about that.” Jeb scanned his audience. “Can we maybe have the room cleared so the patient and I can have some privacy?”

Thank God. Because I couldn’t be there a moment longer.

Unfortunately, Reeve was escorted out with us, and in the hallway he stopped me before I could escape into my own room. “Jeb got ahold of some methadone. He’s going to start a treatment plan that will help her with the pain, and then he can slowly wean her off dependence.”

“Awesome. I’m glad you employ ranch staff with such diverse skills for occasions such as this.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone. Actually, I didn’t even try.

Before he could say anything else, I plowed on. “Meanwhile, I’m hungry, and I believe I’ve missed lunch. Joe, would you mind taking me into town for something to eat?” I sent a pleading glance to my private investigator.

He darted his eyes from me to Reeve. “It’s my shift with Amber. I don’t know if I should.”

I practically jumped on the end of his statement. “I’m sure Reeve won’t mind covering it. I’ll take the next shift. Tell her I’ll be back in a couple of hours, will you, Reeve?” I didn’t look at him. Addressing him was hard enough.

“Emily,” my name on Reeve’s tongue was like poisoned honey, “perhaps Joe should stay. I can take you into town instead.”

I shook my head. “Now that she’s awake, I’m sure that Amber would much rather catch up with you. Take the opportunity to spend time with your ‘angel.’” Finally, I lifted my eyes to Reeve’s. I knew what he’d see there – pain and anger and acid.

I hadn’t expected to see the same in his eyes.

Unable to hold his gaze, I spun on my heels, and, this time, with Joe in tow, it was Reeve I left in the hallway, alone.

Lunch with Joe was uneventful. After I’d responded to most of his attempts at conversation with nothing more than one or two syllables he’d gotten the hint and let me eat in silence.

On the drive back, with the possible repercussions of how I’d left things hanging over my head, I remembered something Joe had said earlier. “Reeve actually invited you to stay at the house?” It wasn’t like him to trust so easily. Especially another man.

“Eh, he was sketchy at first. When you went upstairs with Amber, he had his men thoroughly pat me down. There may have been a few hostile threats thrown in as well.”

“That sounds about right.” I didn’t add that Reeve probably also ordered a background check and that I was pretty sure we’d been followed into town by Tabor, the man Reeve had hired to watch me. “And that was all?”

Joe pursed his lips, and I could tell he was keeping something from me. “What else did he say, Joe?” My mind whirred through the possibilities, with the deals he might have had to make in order to win Reeve’s trust.

“I’ll tell you, but I don’t want you to overreact.”

My scowl told him I wasn’t promising anything.

“He said I could stay as long as I agreed that I was there to protect you.”

A host of reactions flew through my brain, a few of them in such opposition that I didn’t know how to choose one to express. It irritated me that he’d think he should make those kinds of arrangements without my permission or knowledge, but I was also thrilled that he cared.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking, and he just wanted to be in control.

I leaned my head against the glass window and nibbled on my knuckle. “I don’t know what that means,” I said finally.

Joe threw a glance toward me then returned his focus to the road. “I don’t either. I don’t know why he thinks you might be in danger. Whether he thinks Vilanakis might come around or if he’s worried that you’ll do something stupid again.”

“Or maybe he’s passing me to you so he won’t feel guilty when he takes Amber back into his arms.” Immediately, I felt stupid for admitting that to Joe. “Anyway. It’s fine. As long as he’s letting you stay.”

“It’s an informal agreement, Em. He’s not paying me. I can leave when I want. Likely it means nothing and is just a way to show me he’s in charge. Ignore it.”

Possible. But I wouldn’t bet on it.

“How long are you planning on sticking around, then? If you can leave when you want, I mean.” In other words, how long would
I
be allowed to stick around?

“Depends,” he said, turning down the long road to the ranch main gates. “I’d like to pursue Vilanakis, but only if you’re okay with that.”

“Of course.” Why he thought he needed my permission was beyond me. Unless he wanted me to ask him to stay, which I wouldn’t. “You can go wherever you need to go for that. I’ll be fine.” I was actually being truthful with Joe for once. It felt more liberating than I’d imagined.

Joe surprised me with his next words. “Where I need to go for that is nowhere.” He paused at the gate, not saying anything while the guard was at the window clearing us for entrance.

When we were in, I turned to him. “You don’t think Reeve is still connected to that slave ring, do you?”

“I don’t have a strong reason to believe he is, no. Especially not if that’s why he thinks you need protection. But he and Amber know more about Vilanakis than anyone else I’ve come in contact with. I don’t think I can get a better lead than through them.”

I chewed another finger as he parked the car, trying to decide if I wanted to share what I knew with Joe, and if so, how much. I didn’t want to betray Reeve but Joe had rescued Amber. I owed him, didn’t I?

Grabbing his arm, I stopped him before he got out of the car. “I’ll tell you this, Joe – there are cameras in every room of that ranch. So be careful what you say or do.”

“I’ve seen them. But thanks for the heads-up.”

“Also” – I took a deep breath, already having decided to spill the secret – “Reeve’s mother, Elena Kaya? Her real name is Elena Vilanakis.”

Joe’s expression lifted with the information. “Reeve’s related to Michelis?”

“Michelis is his uncle. But Elena wanted to leave the mob life. Reeve’s father took her away from all of it. Changed her name. Hid her away.”

“It explains the bad blood between Michelis and Sallis.”

“It does.” There. I wasn’t throwing Reeve under the bus at all. I was actually reinforcing my opinion that Michelis was the enemy instead. “They aren’t tied anymore. Blood or no blood.”

“Possibly.” Joe tilted his head. “Or they’re extremely good at their cover.”

Well, there was that. I believed Reeve probably skirted the line when it came to legal business practices, but did I truly think he could cross it?

I still didn’t know him well enough to have the answer.

I didn’t go up to Amber’s room when we got back. Reeve would be there, and I wasn’t eager to see him. I also didn’t make it too hard for him to find me, settling down in the den with the remote in hand, not actually planning to watch anything at all.

I’d only just turned on the TV when he breezed through, barely glancing at me on his way. “Emily. My office. Now.”

My heart pattered in the way it always did when he ordered me around, and my hands began to sweat like they always did when I feared I’d displeased him. My nerves tingled with the excitement that always accompanied both.

With only a second of hesitation, I set down the remote and followed him.

The ornate double doors to his office were open. I hadn’t been in his office at the ranch before, and I was struck by the warm tones that accentuated the masculine décor, a stark contrast to the clean lines of his minimalistic LA office. This space had a homey feel to it that was absent from the other, yet it was still strongly charged with the authority and success that defined Reeve Sallis.

Especially now, when the man was standing in front of his desk in full-command mode.

“Shut the doors,” he said, his tight tone an invisible string that tugged on my arousal button.

It felt like I was moving through molasses as I pushed the heavy doors into their frame. The soft click of the latch echoed loudly in my ears as if instead it were the clang of metal hitting metal at the closing of a jail cell. Being alone in a room with Reeve wasn’t necessarily like being in a prison. But it would most certainly be a trap. And I’d most definitely been caught.

When I turned to face him, Reeve’s expression was cold stone as he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”

“I’d rather st—”

“Sit.”

I sat, my face flushed from both the heat of his directive and the humiliation of how easily I obeyed. Determined to not cower, I straightened my spine. This confrontation was a long time coming. I should have been prepared.

Seemingly satisfied with my deference, Reeve leaned on the desk behind him. “Joe Cook,” he said.

So we’d start there. I was tempted to spill everything, but wasn’t sure exactly what Reeve was after, and I wasn’t ready to show my whole hand yet. “What about him?”

The grip of his hands tightened on the edge of the desk. “Define your relationship.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “He works for me.”
And he works for you, apparently.

“Go on.”

Silly as it was, I’d half-hoped that this would be more of a conversation and less of a showdown. That there would be a give-and-take in the information we shared.

But Reeve’s approach was that of an interrogator. So that hope dissolved and I had to choose if I was going to be cooperative or combative.

It was the intensity of my body’s reaction to him that decided my course. The way my torso automatically leaned forward to be closer to him. The way my pulse tripped at the potency of his presence. I’d be obliging. For now.

I sighed. “He’s a private investigator. I hired him to help me find Amber.” There they were – my first cards laid.

His eyes narrowed at me, and the vein in his neck bulged, but he said nothing, as if waiting for more.

“Jesus,” I huffed, “say what you want to know already. It’s so awkward to guess what you’re looking for when you obviously know most of it on your —”

He cut me off. “Did you fuck him?”

“What?” I was so taken aback, the question came out before I had a chance to stop it.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I heard you.” I slumped back in my chair. Really? This was where he was going first?

Of course it is,
I chastised myself. It was how he’d reacted when he’d found me with Chris Blakely. Strange how it stung so much when I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Even stranger that he would ask Joe to protect me if he was worried that I was sleeping with him. The man was such a bundle of contradictions, it made my head hurt.

“Well?” Reeve’s impatient tone only added insult to injury.

“I love how you automatically assume I’m sleeping with every man I come in contact with. Are you going to choke me with your cock now so I learn to never have relationships with men that aren’t you again?”

Even the reminder of the cruel way he’d treated me after I’d been with Chris didn’t cause him to flinch. “You’d like that too much. Answer the question.”

“No.” I raised my chin defiantly. “I won’t give you anything else until you give me something.”

He let out a patronizing chuckle. “That’s not how this works, Emily.”

“Maybe it’s not how it worked before, but it’s how it’s working now.” Somewhat stunned by my own bravado, I barreled on before I had a chance to second-guess myself. “How long did you know that I knew Amber?”

He ticked his head dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. Did you fuck Joe Cook?”

Exasperated, I dropped my hands to my side. “It doesn’t matter to you, but it matters a whole hell of a lot to me. And, frankly, my question is much more relevant than whether or not I’ve gotten naked with Joe.”

“It’s relevant if I say it’s relevant.”

I rolled my eyes and started to stand, but Reeve sprang forward and stopped me. His hands gripped on both arms of the chair, he caged me in. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”

He was so close. And so angry. So angry and so close. He could lean down and kiss me in the blink of an eye. Or strangle me. Or pull me to my knees, where I knew he wanted me. Where I would fall so naturally into the role I craved.

But that wasn’t the best role for me at the moment, no matter how much I wanted to play it. And I’d grown with Reeve. I could be strong with him when I needed to be.

So I threw my shoulders back and narrowed my eyes. “If you have to ask, then you don’t deserve to know the answer.” I pushed at his arm, astonished when he let me brush it away, and stood. I turned to go.

In a heartbeat, he was at the door in front of me, blocking my exit.

“Let me go.” I kept my eyes forward, refusing to meet his. I felt his pull, though. Felt the puppet string at my head, tugging my chin up to look at him, to obey him, to submit.

But I kept my eyes forward. Because if I didn’t, I’d crumble. If I didn’t, I’d be back under his thumb, and while I wanted to be there, I didn’t want to be there like this.

Several seconds passed. Seconds that stretched and yawned and made my pulse tick higher and the back of my neck sweat. Seconds that chipped away at my resolve and began to uncover my fear.

Then, finally, he shifted, and I flinched.

But he only moved to open the door and let me out.

I made it to my room before I fell apart. There, with the wood of my own door at my back, I sunk to the floor and gasped for breath between sobs. He could have made me answer him. He could have forced me. Could have grabbed me or choked me or physically hurt me in a myriad of ways. He was that strong. He was that capable. He could have done so much.

The worst part was that he didn’t.