Play to Win (5 page)

“I haven't changed my mind,” I said. “You and Parker have started putting the pieces of your friendship back together. I'm not going to be the one who screws that up.”

The taxi driver honked, then stuck his head out of the window. “Hey, lady! You 'bout done?”

Before I could yell back for him to chill out, Ryker was striding toward the car. Leaning through the window, I saw him hand the driver some money, then the cab was backing out of the driveway.

“Hey!” I said, jogging over to where Ryker stood. “That was my ride.”

“I'm your ride.”

That statement sent way too many images through my head, most of them X-rated, which was so
not
helping.

He turned and headed for the house, pausing to examine the state of the screen door. After a moment, I had no choice but to follow. Grabbing the bag with his clothes, I walked up the porch steps, McClane trailing me.

“Did he break it?” I asked.

“Nah. It's all right. Just banged it up a little.”

McClane looked completely unrepentant, his attention focused on wherever I was going. Which, at the moment, appeared to be inside Ryker's house.

Don't look toward the bedroom. Don't look toward the bedroom. Don't—

“You want something to drink?” Ryker asked. “I've got beer, pop, and some wine that appeared while I was gone.” His lips lifted in a half-smile.

Ah. The bottles of wine I'd bought with Parker when I thought I'd be staying here. The thought of Parker and last night, and knowing I was now in Ryker's house had me nodding.

“A glass of wine would be great.”

I followed him into the kitchen, feeling a little like he was the Pied Piper and I was the one unable to resist trailing wherever he led. He washed his hands and uncorked a bottle of chardonnay I'd left in the fridge. After he poured me a glass, he popped the top on a bottle of beer.

“Come on out back,” he said. “It's a beautiful day.”

One thing I missed from home that I didn't have in my apartment was a place to sit outside. Ryker had a really nice deck in the back that he'd said he'd built himself after tearing off the old one. Since it was an older neighborhood, he had a few big trees as well and had hung a hammock between two of them.

I eyed the hammock as he sat on the wicker couch and patted the seat next to him. I knew I probably shouldn't—I should sit in that chair over there where I couldn't touch him or smell him—but I obediently sat on the couch anyway.

“So where'd you go the past couple of weeks?” he asked. “Home? Or further away?”

“I stayed with my parents for a while,” I said.

A beat passed.

“Your dad talk to you about that night?”

I hesitated. We were heading into risky territory now. Ryker had accused my dad of being a mobster and as it turned out, he'd been partially correct. “Yes. I guess I hadn't realized all these years how dangerous it was to be in his business.”

“You know Leo Shea has disappeared, don't you?”

A sick feeling churned in my stomach. I'd deliberately not asked my dad about what had happened to Leo.

“I didn't, but I'm not surprised,” I said. “He was going to kill me.”

Ryker's hand clenched into a fist and I felt his body tighten. “That was my fault,” he said.

“I don't want to play the blame game. I just want to…forget about it.” I'd woken up a few times over the past weeks, my skin in a cold sweat, and Leo Shea's grinning visage in my mind. Between what Viktor had done to Ryker and Parker, then reliving Leo's order to kill Parker and what he'd done to me, the flashbacks were killing me.

I took a healthy swallow of my wine, the cold, fruity liquid a nice bite on my tongue. Birds chirped on the breeze and I took a deep breath, letting the sunshine dispel the darkness inside my head.

“Are you back at work yet?” he asked.

“I told you I quit. I have a new job now.” Might as well get this part over with.

I felt his gaze on me through his mirrored shades, though I didn't look at him.

“What's that?”

I swallowed before answering. “I've gone to work for my father.” I winced a little at the hint of defensiveness in my voice.

“So keeping it in the family then?” he asked.

“Keeping what in the family?” And now there was no mistaking my defensiveness. “My father hasn't done anything he wasn't forced to do because of other criminals threatening him and his family.”

“It doesn't matter the reason. The point is he's a force in this town and now you're a part of that.”

“Does it matter?” I asked bitterly. “You and I are through anyway. What do you care?”

His hand closed over mine, slotting our fingers together. The roughness of his palm against the smoothness of mine sent a flicker of sadness through me. I hated good-byes.

“I don't want us to be through.”

This time I did look at him. “I don't understand,” I said, shaking my head in confusion. “You know I have feelings for Parker. I slept with him, for crying out loud. Why in the world would you want to get back together?” I honestly was befuddled. By all rights, he should hate me. I'd betrayed him the same way Natalie had, though for different reasons, I supposed.

“I love you. That hasn't changed. And I think you love me, too. What we have is worth fighting for.”

“And it'll drive you and Parker apart again.” I shook my head.

“It's…different,” he admitted. “At first, I felt it was Natalie all over again. But I don't think Parker's using you. I've seen the way he looks at you, what he did in that warehouse to get to you.” His expression was stark. “We're both in love with you, Sage, as crazy as that sounds. And neither of us wants to give you up.”

I jumped to my feet, his words scaring me more than I wanted to admit.

“That's crazy,” I said. “You make me sound like some weird…femme fatale or something. I don't want two men in love with me! I don't want to be the person who'd do that to someone.”

I paced the deck, my agitation making my fists tighten until my nails cut into my palms.

“It's not up to you,” he said grimly, getting to his feet. He stepped in front of me, halting me in my tracks. “There's three of us in this, and we all get a say.”

Reaching out, he brushed the hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

I didn't know what to say. The leap of hope inside sickened me with guilt. How could I choose one man over the other? Why was I so happy at the thought that I wouldn't have to give them up?

I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly McClane leapt to his feet, a growl emanating from his throat. Startled, I turned to look, but he took off, back inside the house toward the front door.

“Shit,” Ryker muttered. “If that's the mailman, he's not going to deliver my mail for a month.”

We hurried after McClane to the front, where the screen door let in the breeze and sunlight. McClane was standing in front of it, growling at a woman waiting outside.

“McClane! Heel!”

Ryker's command had no effect on McClane's growling, and as I got closer, I got a better look at the woman just as Ryker froze.

“Natalie?” he asked, his voice a mix of awe and horror.

D
ean,” the woman said with a tentative smile. “It's good to see you.”

Ryker moved forward as though in slow motion. McClane shuffled aside. I stuck close because a) this was unreal and b) I thought Ryker was about to pass out.

“But…you're dead,” Ryker said.

She gave a little shrug, looking slightly abashed. “False alarm. Can I come in, Dean? I have a lot to tell you and explain.”

Ya think?
My spidey senses were firing off all kinds of warnings. Why was she here? How was she even alive? And why did she keep calling him “Dean” in that familiar way that made me want to rip out her long, shiny hair?

“Um, yeah, of course.” Ryker stepped aside and held open the screen door. He still looked dazed, as though he were responding automatically. McClane growled again as she walked in the door and that seemed to break Ryker from his trance. “McClane,” he snapped, and for once the dog obeyed, quieting.

Natalie paused when she saw me, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Oh,” she said. “I didn't realize you had company. Am I interrupting?”

Um, yeah, you're interrupting his
life
.

I couldn't explain why I instinctively didn't like her, didn't trust her, and felt a knot in my gut that said this was bad bad bad—it just was.

“Oh, yeah—um, Natalie, this is Sage, my girlfriend. Sage, this is…” He seemed at a loss for words so I stepped up and shook her hand.

“Hi, Natalie,” I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster. “I must admit, I'm surprised to see you. Ryker had told me you passed away some years ago.” She looked just like the photo I'd seen of her, Ryker, and Parker. Like she hadn't aged a day. Which, unless she was a freaking vampire, was impossible.

And no, I didn't bother correcting Ryker on referring to me as his girlfriend.

Natalie's smile had grown more brittle when Ryker introduced me, but was still firmly in place.

“I was hoping I might have a private moment with Dean to explain,” she hinted. I just smiled and said nothing. “But…ah…I suppose if you're his girlfriend, then you'd want to hear the story, too.”

You got that right
, I thought but didn't say. Instead I replied, “That would probably be best.”

“Have a seat,” Ryker said, gesturing to the sofa. He sat heavily in a chair opposite, and I thought he was still struggling with his shock. I chose to remain standing and felt a small bit of satisfaction when McClane came and plopped his butt on top of my feet.

At least the dog liked me better.

Natalie walked by me and that's when I realized how little she was…and how huge I felt in comparison. She couldn't have been more than five feet, four inches tall, which was a good four inches shorter than me. Talk about feeling like an Amazon…

She sat primly on the sofa and brushed her hair back from her face. She was even prettier and more delicate in person than she had seemed in the photo. Her hands twisted in her lap as though she was nervous. Wearing a summer dress a soft shade of pink, she looked beautiful and innocent.

“When I left Parker's that night,” she began, “I went home. It was there that I got the message.”

“What message?” Ryker asked.

“The message that my…husband…was out of jail.”

“You told me your husband was dead.”

“There were times I wished he were dead,” Natalie said. “He was violent. Possessive.” She shuddered. “When he went to jail, I was relieved. I was free. Or so I thought. But his dad…he pulled some strings and got him out early. I had to run.”

Natalie's story conveniently would elicit sympathy, especially from Ryker…which made me immediately suspicious as to its veracity.

Don't be judgy
, I chastised myself.
At least wait and hear the whole story,
then
be judgy.

“Where is he now?” Ryker asked.

Natalie's brow furrowed and she chewed her lip. “Dead,” she said. “Killed in a drug deal gone bad.”

Ryker just looked at her. “So you…what? Faked your suicide? Why?”

“I hoped he'd believe I was dead,” Natalie said, tears welling in her eyes. “I'm sorry that I had to let you and Parker believe it, too. I was afraid if I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me. Or worse, try to confront him and get hurt.”

“So your solution was to break his heart by making him think you'd committed suicide?” I asked. “And that it was his and Parker's fault?” I couldn't hide the derision in my tone and her eyes flashed when she looked at me.

“I was young and confused, and I didn't know what to do,” she said. “You have no idea what my husband was capable of. For all I knew, he'd go after my friends. I couldn't risk it.”

Damn. I couldn't argue with that and I felt a twinge of doubt about how I'd thought of her as conniving and manipulative. What if she was telling the truth?

She looked back at Ryker. “Just like now. I hope you can forgive me, Dean, because I need your help.”

“What could you possibly need my help for?” he asked.

Um, yeah. I wanted to hear that, too.

“It's my sister,” Natalie said.

“Jessie?”

“Yes. She's disappeared.”

“What do you mean?” Ryker's brow creased in a frown. “What happened?”

“A few weeks ago. She never came home from work. I filed a missing person's report, but the cops have done nothing.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Nearly two weeks.” Her eyes welled with tears again. “I'm so scared, Dean.” She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

I waited to see if Ryker would push her away—in a nice way—but he didn't. Instead, he hugged her back, holding her.

Hmmm.

I waited a beat—this was so awkward—then cleared my throat, which seemed to make Ryker realize I was still there. His gaze flew to mine over her head and I raised an eyebrow.

“So I'm going to get going,” I said, because really, what else was I supposed to do?

“Yeah, I said I'd take you home,” Ryker said,
finally
extricating himself from her clutches. Nice of him to remember that little bit. He'd been the one to send the taxi away, after all.

I was trying to be sympathetic—the woman said her sister was missing—but the whole thing was leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I tried to convince myself I wasn't jealous. I shouldn't be jealous—Ryker and I were done—but the hypocritical little green monster poked his head over my shoulder anyway.

“Will you help me?” Natalie interrupted, turning pleading eyes on Dean. I mean, Ryker.

“Where are you staying?” he asked. “I'll come by after I drop off Sage.”

Oh really?

Natalie rattled off the name of a hotel that wasn't cheap, which made me wonder what she did for a living to be able to afford a place like that.

“Room 815.”

Ryker didn't write it down, but I didn't think he probably needed to. The way he was looking at Natalie, as though he was seeing a ghost he'd desperately longed for, had me questioning the wisdom of letting him go alone.

She gave me the briefest of nods on her way out and I watched her get into a Toyota sedan and drive away. I could feel Ryker's presence behind me, also staring after her.

“That was…interesting,” I said at last, turning around. “What do you think?”

He looked down at me and his eyes grew shuttered. “I think I should get you home.” He grabbed his keys from the table by the door.

“You're kidding, right?” I asked, grabbing his elbow as he passed by me. “Natalie, your presumably dead-by-suicide ex-girlfriend shows up, and that's all you're going to say?”

“I'm a little in shock at the moment,” he said, pulling away from me.

“I know you are, which is why you should probably talk about it.”

“I will. Just not right now.”

“Not right now? Or not with me?”

“Both.”

Well, okay then.

I shut my trap and followed him out the door. Whereas usually we'd take his bike on a day as pretty as today, instead he headed for his truck. And there was plenty of space between us on the seat as he drove me home.

The silence wasn't a bit awkward.

Right.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. “Ryker, I think we should talk about this. I don't trust her. I don't know how
you
could trust her. She's only showing up now to tell you she
isn't dead
when she should've told you years ago. And just because she needs your help. It's just so strange. She could've called you when her husband died or like a thousand other times…”

“What would you have me do then, Sage?” he asked. I winced at the irritation in his voice. “Tell her to go? She blindsided me.”

“I don't know. I just thought it was really weird,” I said. “And cruel. To let you and Parker think—”

“Don't even think about telling Parker,” he interrupted.

I shot him a look. “You're joking, right? You're not seriously considering keeping Parker in the dark about this?”

“She should tell him herself. Or I should. Not you.”

“I know, but—”

“End of story.”

I wanted to whack him upside his thick skull. How he would still hold a grudge to the point of not telling Parker about Natalie's un-death was incomprehensible to me. But I pressed my lips closed against the protest that wanted to emerge and let it lie. Ryker could no more tell me what to do than apparently I could tell him.

He'd barely parked the truck before I was out of the cab and slamming it shut. “Thanks for the ride,” I tossed through the open window. “Give Natalie my best.”

“Sage, wait—”

But I was already inside the building, and I'd no more let my apartment door close behind me than I was on my phone.

“Parker, it's me.”

I wouldn't tell him over the phone what was going on, so he made it to my apartment pretty darn quick.

“Thanks for coming,” I said, stepping aside to let him enter.

“You sounded like this was urgent,” he replied. Since it was the weekend, Casual Dress Parker was in evidence and I took a moment to admire the way his designer jeans fit him very well indeed…

“Sage.”

I jerked my guilty gaze up to his face and swallowed. The ghost of a smile flitted across his face at catching my obvious stare.

“Um, yeah, well, you'd better sit down,” I said. “And have a drink.”

I poured a shot of bourbon from my cabinet into two glasses, handing him one.

“What's going on?” he asked. “Are you pregnant? Is that what you want to tell me?”

Holy shit.

I stared at him, openmouthed, then downed my drink in one swallow.

Pregnant.

I shook my head, coughing. “Not pregnant,” I managed to squeak out. “Wow. I can't even…” I shook my head again, words failing me.

“Then what is it?” He'd set his glass on the table and still hadn't sat down. “You can tell me anything. You've got to know that. What's wrong? Is it your father? Ryker?”

“It's Natalie,” I blurted. “She's not dead. She never was. And she's back.”

I waited, but he showed no outward reaction to this news. His face was blank and he went very still.

“She showed up at Ryker's while I was there,” I added, just to make sure he knew I wasn't making this stuff up. Who could??

Parker picked up his glass again and downed the liquor as I had, only without the coughing and sputtering afterward.

“Tell me.”

So I did, starting with her appearing at the door and ending with Ryker supposedly going to her hotel after he'd dropped me off.

When I finished, I studied him and chewed my lip. How would he react to the news? Ryker had been blindsided, then immediately sucked back in. There was a lead weight in the pit of my stomach that Parker would be the same way.

“That's…unexpected.”

I waited, but he said nothing more. I plowed on.

“Did you know Jessie?”

He shook his head. “No. She was younger than Natalie by a few years. Ryker knew her, though. He mentioned her a few times, that she was a sweet kid.”

“Do you believe her story?” I asked. “That her husband got out of jail and that's why she left?”

“I'm not sure, but nothing she did would shock me. She's a manipulative liar.”

“But you don't think she's lying about Jessie.”

“I don't see why she would, no. She did always seem to genuinely care about her sister, even if the rest of her feelings were more difficult to read.”

I mulled this over for a second, absently pouring each of us another shot of bourbon, but this one I drank more slowly.

“How did you feel about Ryker's reaction?” he asked.

I glanced up at him to find his shrewd gaze studying me. I shrugged.

“It's impossible to compete with an obsession,” I said. “And whatever his feelings for me, I don't think he's ever gotten over her.”

Parker gave a slow nod. “I'd agree with that.”

I hesitated. “I guess the more pressing question on my mind is…have you?”

Parker's brows flew up in surprise. “Me? Have I gotten over her?”

Nerves twisted my gut, but I kept going. In for a penny…“I know how you felt about her. You can't just discount those feelings. And now she's back.”
And still gorgeous
, I thought with a little sinking sensation. “Ryker looked like he'd seen a ghost. And not necessarily in a bad way.”

Parker frowned. “I was young and stupid. And I'm not ecstatic about her return, believe me. I mean, I'm glad that she's not dead, yes; that's a revelation. But she messed with Ryker's head so bad, I'd hate to see him lose his shit again over her.”