Mistaken by Fate (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

“Please look at me, baby.”

Ridley took a shuddering breath, her first since Garrett hauled her into a private room after she’d safed-out. Her throat was so tight, it was amazing that she could breathe at all. She pushed against his chest, and for one eternal moment, he held her blissfully close. Then he obeyed the silent command and sat her on the edge of a bed. She opened her eyes, wishing he was less attractive, because it only made how much it hurt to look at him worse.

Because things were never going to change. Tonight had made that abundantly clear. “You were never going to talk to me, were you?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “The past should stay in the past.”

He’d demanded everything of her, made her feel so damn alive, pushed her up to her boundaries again and again, and expected her to trust him. And she had. But the fear she’d been very deliberately not thinking about—that he’d never really gotten past the issues that drove him away from her eight years ago—was becoming all too real. “That’s not realistic.”

“We’re having a good time right now. That should be enough for you.”

A good time. She’d been idiot enough to think it meant something to him. That he actually cared about her enough to balance out the old fears.

She should have known better.

Ridley laughed, the sound tearing itself from her chest. “You know, I actually thought that you’d give us a chance—that enough time had passed that you might have truly gotten over your issues.”

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t. You can’t even
talk
about what happened.” She pushed to her feet, hating how shaky her legs felt. “You want me to trust you, Garrett? To put myself in your hands and let you do whatever you damn well please? Prove to me that I should.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not jumping through crazy hoops to make you feel better, baby. Either you trust me or you don’t.”

“You can’t just make a declaration like that—all or nothing.”

“I just did.”

Realization dawned, taking what little strength she had right out of her knees. She dropped back to the bed, trying to breathe past the burning in her throat. A laugh escaped from somewhere, the sound as jagged as broken glass. “You are unbelievable.”

“What are you talking about?”

“For all your claims that the past is in the past, it’s obviously
not
.” She shoved her hair out of her face with shaking hands. “You’re doing it again.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’m not doing shit.”

His lack of response only confirmed it for her. “Yes, you are. Because you’re so tied up in the fear that you might fall for me again and that I’ll leave you, that you’re driving me away first. Again.” She’d been a fool to think things would be different this time. They were destined to repeat history until someone broke the cycle. Since he obviously wasn’t interested in trying, she was damn well going to do it. “I guess I should be grateful you didn’t screw some other woman in front of me this time.”

“I didn’t.” When she turned to look at him, the words seemed drawn out despite himself. “I never had sex with Leslie.”

And the hits just kept on coming. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know what’s worse—that you had sex with someone I hated or that you lied and let me believe
for eight years
that you did.” She held up a hand, despite the fact that he didn’t seem all that inclined to jump in. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Whatever idiotic method you came up with to drive me away, the source is still the same. Your mom and your abandonment issues. I swear to God, Garrett, if I could reach back through the years, I’d slap the shit out of her for messing up you guys so much.”

“Ridley—”

Whatever he was going to say, it wouldn’t be what she wanted—needed—to hear. The stubborn look on his face was enough to tell her that. Which meant she had to get out of here. “Congratulations. It worked. I’m gone for good this time.”

His face fell into forbidding lines, and she silently mourned the loss of caring in those blue eyes. “You would have left at some point.”

God, did he even hear the words coming out of his mouth? Her chest tightened with each word until spots danced in front of her eyes. “You’re a goddamn self-fulfilling prophecy.” And so was she, because she’d actually thought things would be different this time.

He stepped back, the distance between them opening up like a chasm neither of them wanted to cross. “You want more than I can give.” Another step back. “I’m not the man for you. I never have been.”

Every word was a knife thrust to her heart. He was so goddamn blind and he didn’t even realize it. Garrett had always been the one—the one who broke her heart, the one who got away, the one she’d lost her mind over the second he crooked a finger at her. But to him, no matter what she said or how she acted, she’d always have one foot out the door—like his mother did. It didn’t matter that she was nothing like the woman, or that
he
was the one who pushed her to this point—all that mattered was the fact she was leaving.

She pushed to her feet again, feeling as shaky as if she were just learning to walk, and headed for the door. He got there first, putting his massive body in her way. “We’re not done yet.”

“No, I think we’re more than done. To keep going at this point is to beat a dead horse, and I’m too damn tired to go ’round and ’round with you. Have a nice life, Garrett. Maybe someday you’ll meet a woman who you won’t drive away.”

She reached for the door, but his hand closed around her wrist. “Ridley—”

“
Let me go
.” If she stayed here another moment, she was going to break down in front of him, and she refused to show him just how much he’d hurt her.

The door opened and Nolan leaned into the room, his expression concerned. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.”

Ridley jerked her wrist out of his grip. “No. I want to leave.”

“You’re naked, baby. Where are you going to go?”

The bastard thought that would be enough to stop her? Not fucking likely. She straightened her spine, even though she felt like curling up into a ball in the corner, and turned to Nolan. “I want to leave.”

He looked between them, seeming to be debating something, and finally nodded. “Sorry, Garrett, but you know the rules. Jonah would kick my ass if I left her here with you.”

“Jonah can jump off a fucking bridge for all I care. We’re not done here.”

“Yes, we are.” She slipped through the gap between Nolan and the door, stumbling down the hallway. It led to the public room, which meant she’d have to walk the damn gauntlet before she got to the elevator. Well, screw all of them. They’d already seen all there was to see. She forced her arms down, forced herself not to huddle, and headed for the elevator.

She’d only gotten four steps when another hulking blond brute got in her way. Will. She’d forgotten he was here, and the knowledge that he’d witnessed even part of her conflict with Garrett brought humiliation right to the forefront of what she was feeling. “Ridley—”

“No offense, Will, but get the hell out of my way.”

“I’ll take you home.”

It was an offer that would have pleased her two weeks ago. Now it just left her as cold as the man before her. How had she never noticed that? Garrett was fire and Will was ice, and maybe that contrast had attracted her before, but now it left her empty. She didn’t want anything to do with either of them. “I already have a ride.” She stepped around him and kept going.

Nolan caught up with her before she hit the elevators. “Here.” He handed her a pair of sweatpants and a plain T-shirt. When she frowned, he shrugged. “You’d be surprised how often this kind of thing is necessary.”

“Is there a phone I can use?” She pulled on the clothes, which dwarfed her, but it was better than the alternative.

He led the way to a little corridor she hadn’t seen before and moved away, giving her privacy while putting himself between her and the rest of the room. Between her and Garrett. She dialed with shaking fingers, barely waiting for an answer before she said, “Sara, I need you.”

…

Garrett watched the elevator doors close on the best and worst thing that ever happened to him. Good fucking riddance.

Because she was always going to leave. This thing between them had an expiration date the second it started—he’d just finished it on his own terms instead of drawing it out to its inevitable conclusion. Even if they’d managed to get past the first separation, he couldn’t stand the thought of always wondering what she was doing when he wasn’t in town. It was only a matter of time before shit blew up in his face.

He turned around and saw Will standing there, disapproval written across his face. Well, he could fucking sit on that shit, because Garrett wasn’t willing to talk about it. Not now, not ever. He turned and headed back into the private room, shutting the door to discourage anyone from following.

He might have made a shitty decision out of fear, but Ridley had already decided the second she safed-out that they were over. No talking about it. No explanations. Just done.

Hell, what was he saying? He’d betrayed her trust. Maybe not in a definable way, but he’d blatantly ignored needs that she’d gathered up the courage to voice because they made
him
uncomfortable. It was selfish at best and neglectful at worst. But she
left
. That was the point of no return, because watching her walk out of his life was every bit as horrible as he’d anticipated and feared.

She’d taken what was left of his heart with her.

Chapter Thirteen

Ridley spent the next two weeks practically living out of her shop. She cut, she sewed, she put together two more pieces that would round out the line. It should have been her happiest moment when she finished the final one—she was almost there—but all she felt was an echo through the depression that seemed all too willing to drag her under the second she stopped moving.

Garrett was gone and, as much as she would have liked to pretend otherwise, their relationship blowing up almost as soon as it started was as much her fault as his. She’d let him brush off her wanting to talk time and time again, setting the stage for things to go sideways.

But the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that she’d had to force the issue that night at Serve. They couldn’t keep going forward in that state of weird limbo, no matter how uncomfortable the idea of talking obviously made him.

Uncomfortable enough to drive her away using words cherry-picked to hit her where it hurt the worst.

She sat back and twisted to relieve that ache at the base of her spine from working for so long. It didn’t matter. Fashion Week was almost here and… And then she’d step up in front of all those people and either blow it out of the water or fall flat on her face. All that hard-won confidence she’d had while she was working her ass off with an internship straight through college, and then finally branching out on her own, seemed nowhere in sight. She couldn’t blame that on Garrett, but a petty part of her wanted to. The truth was she’d been having a crisis of faith ever since she got her invitation. She couldn’t shake the fact that she was outclassed and they would see her for the fraud she was the second her show started.

Ridley stood and crossed to the rack of clothing she’d spent the last six months putting together. It was some of her finest work—edgy and creative and pushing boundaries. She just didn’t know if it was enough.

“You look like someone who could use a drink.”

She glanced at Sara. “I’m taking back your spare key.”

“No, you’re not.” She slipped into the room and perched on the edge of Ridley’s desk. “You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

Because she couldn’t look at Sara without remembering the week she’d spent with Garrett and how it had turned to ash before she could truly convince herself that it was real. “I’ve been working.”

“You were working before you had a fling with my brother, and you still managed to find time for me then.” She waved it away. “It doesn’t matter. Garrett’s gone off on another top-secret mission so it’s not like you’re going to accidentally run into him if you leave this room.”

Ridley’s heart stuttered. “He’s gone?” She mentally kicked herself as soon as the words left her lips. Of course he was gone. He’d already told her he was leaving soon. She just hadn’t realized
how
soon.

“Yeah.” Sara watched her closely. “I think he was gone the day after your fall-out.”

It shouldn’t surprise her. Hadn’t he done exactly the same thing eight years ago? But, God, it still hurt. She pressed a hand to her chest. It didn’t matter if he’d promised to come back. That promise had been made when they were…what? Together? They hadn’t been, not really. There was no reason it would hold true even then, and it certainly wouldn’t now. She sank into her chair. “Oh.”

“It’s time to talk about it.” Sara pushed to her feet. “It’s your choice whether we talk about it here or with a drink in hand—and I think you’d know which I’d prefer.”

“Yeah, me, too.” A drink was definitely needed if she was going to get into it with her best friend, but Sara was right—she
did
need to talk about it. She grabbed her purse. “Are you sure you want the therapy bill that comes along with this conversation?”

“Honey, I got it.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Besides, let’s be honest, my therapy bill is already sky-high. This isn’t going to do any more damage.”

Ridley dug out her keys as they stepped onto the street. “I guess it’s only fair. This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t have let him know where we were that night at Hell’s Bells—”

“Then he would have just tracked you down a different way or a different day.” Sara fell into step beside her as they headed for one of their favorite watering holes a few blocks down. “You and Garrett are like magnets. It was only a matter of time.”

She knew that, even as she tried to come up with an argument against it. Things would be so much easier if she could just blame all this mess on someone else and move on with her life. The problem was moving on when she’d left huge chunks of her heart in Garrett’s hands. She didn’t feel whole—hadn’t since she left Serve that night. And, even worse, the only man who could fix that was the same one who’d caused it.

O’Bannon’s was one of those places where people took one step inside, looked around, and immediately found safer accommodations. It was frequented by a clientele that was pretty damn scary to look at, but she and Sara had stumbled in here one night after they turned twenty-one, immediately made friends with all the bouncers, and just kept coming back.

Jerry nodded at them from where he was drying glasses. “Girls.”

“Hey, Jerry.”

Sara looped her arm through Ridley’s. “We’re taking the back booth, okay?”

“I’ll be over in a sec with your usual.”

“Thanks.” They slid into the booth, and then there was no more time to procrastinate, because Sara zeroed in on her. “Talk.”

What was she supposed to say? Unbidden, words bubbled up. “I should have run screaming the other way as soon as I realized who he was.” She caught the unwavering look on Sara’s face and sighed. “I shouldn’t have tried for Will, either. That was a mistake.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Maybe not.”

Right. Because
that
was helpful. Ridley forced a smile as Jerry set their drinks in front of them and shuffled away. “I understand that, ah, certain things that happened in high school had a lasting effect on him.” On all of them.

Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why everyone keeps dancing around it. Our mom was a selfish bitch and left without having the decency to say goodbye or leave a note or anything. It’s not a secret.”

No, but it was something that none of them had really gotten past. Ridley sipped her drink. “Well, I understand that he was freaked out after your mom left, even if I still think his methods are bullshit and flawed.”

“Seconded.” Sara raised her beer. “I mean, Leslie? I’m sure he could have picked someone who wasn’t such a stuck-up bitch to screw. He knew how much we hated her and, seriously, a good pair of tits doesn’t make up for that kind of crazy.”

Before her friend could get onto a rant about their old high-school nemesis, she cut in, “He didn’t sleep with her—he just let me believe that he did.”

“
What?
”

She kept going before Sara could say anything else. Because the past wasn’t the problem—the present was. “But that’s ancient history now. Or it should be. His methods are still the same, though—drive me away and then disappear like some sort of ghost. The stupidest part of it is that I
wanted
to talk and clear the air and start something real…but apparently I was alone in that.” There was no other explanation other than Garrett just wanting to satisfy his curiosity with her before he moved on. Her heart cried out at the thought, but she told it to shut up. It didn’t matter if he’d done all sorts of thoughtful things or went out of his way to create a date she’d never forget. Those things might not fit with the picture she kept clinging to, but the other option—that he cared about her just as much as she cared about him and
still
drove her away—was even worse.

“Let me ask you something, okay?”

Ridley braced herself. “Okay.”

“Are you really feeling betrayed enough to let this end permanently? Or were you just scared and clinging to any reason to walk away now before things got too heavy.”

“Too heavy? They were heavy the second we started.” Ridley stared at her drink, already knowing what expression was on her friend’s face. “Okay, maybe it was a little of both. All I could focus on was that he was repeating history, and damn it Sara, that hurt. It still does.”

“I’m not going to excuse him, because it was a dick move. But my brother loves you, even if he’s not all that great at showing it.”

That was the thing. He
was
pretty great at showing it. She slumped in the seat. “I don’t know how to prove to him that I’m not going to just up and leave. Hell, I don’t even know if I
want
to, now.”

“Really?”

“Okay, fine. Yes, I still want him. Yes, I still love him.” She stopped, waiting for the sky to fall or something terrible to happen because she finally said those words aloud, and then instantly felt foolish. “But I’m not going to cling to a man who’s determined to drive me away just to protect himself from a theoretical future.”

“Not cling, Ridley. Fight for him.”

Fight for him
. The words circled through her mind. What if she fought for him and it wasn’t enough? Could her pride take the blow of chasing down the one man who’d always been able to get under her skin, only to be rejected? Who was she kidding? Her pride was already as bruised and broken as her heart. Which meant she had nothing left to lose.

Nothing but Garrett.

Shit. She felt like Sara had just pointed out a line in the sand that Ridley had never noticed before. On one side she could keep her pride and move on with her life. Maybe she’d eventually find someone who she connected with half as well as Garrett, but it was far more likely that she wouldn’t.

And what would happen to him? It was a relatively safe bet that he had pretty strong feelings about her—he wouldn’t have needed to push her away if he didn’t. What would it do to Garrett to have her walk out of his life for good, confirming all his issues that had originated with his mother?

Ridley would never have another shot with him. If she let this end now and refused to fight, then it was over between them for good. Was she willing to lose Garrett forever?

Hell no
.

…

Garrett staggered into Z’s place after the man, trying not to limp. He’d tweaked his ankle on that last run. It wasn’t bad enough to need looking at, but it hurt. Fuck, all of him hurt—and not just his body. It didn’t matter that, ever since they got back from that cakewalk of a mission, he’d just been running drills with some of the most dangerous men he’d ever known until they damn near drove him into the ground.

He couldn’t stop picturing the look of betrayal on Ridley’s face when he let her walk away. He’d well and truly fucked things up beyond repair.

In the kitchen Z cursed, the surprised tone of his voice getting Garrett moving. He picked up his pace, but stopped short when he reached the doorway. There, at the table, sat his twin. “Will?”

“How the fuck did you get in here?” Z slid to the side of the door, keeping his back to the cabinets, and rested his hand on the drawer where one of his spare guns was.

Will barely looked at him. “I might not have joined the Army with Garrett, but our uncle taught me the same tricks. My brother and I need some privacy.”

Z snorted. “By all means.” He strode from the room, leaving them alone.

“What are you doing here?”

“I sat back and watched you fuck up things almost beyond repair eight years ago. I’m not going to do it again.” Will motioned to the chair across the table from him. “Sit.”

“Is this an intervention?” When his brother didn’t move, he dropped into the seat. “This is none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you pulled that shit with Ridley right in front of me.” Will sat back. “She’s not our mother.”

Just like that, Garrett’s anger fled. Will was pissed he’d been an instrument in that, and he couldn’t even blame him. It had been a low blow on all counts. “It’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you used me to threaten Ridley.” Will sat back. “She’s not our mother.”

“You don’t think I know that? She couldn’t be further from Mom if she tried.” But she’d still left. Damn it, he didn’t have a right to hold that against her, but he couldn’t stop the old fear from rising at the image of her turning and walking away from him.

“Then what’s the issue?”

He could barely put it into words, even after all these years, but he tried because Will alone would understand. “I didn’t know. There weren’t any signs. I thought she was happy right up until the day she left.”

Will sighed. “No one knew. She kept it from all of us.”

“How can you fight against that when there were no warning tells?” Because that was what woke him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Not the horrors he’d seen at war. Not the things he’d done since then. The thought of the person he loved most in the world leaving him without warning. Pathetic.

“You can’t.”

Whatever he’d expected his brother to say, it wasn’t that. “What?”

“Our family knows better than most, but it’s the truth for anyone—there are no guarantees.”

He sat back. “This is one hell of a pep talk.”

“It’s not meant to be one.” He reached into his pocket and slid a piece of paper across the table. “Have you ever asked our father if he regrets the twenty years he spent married to our mother because of how it ended?”

Garrett didn’t touch the paper. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” How could he
not
regret it?

“I did, once. Do you know what he told me?” Will kept going without waiting for an answer. “He told me that those were the twenty best years of his life.”