The Mistaken (33 page)

“Hannah, I’ve explained that you—by proxy, of
course—have a price on your head, that you’d been sold already.
I’ve been trying to get you out of this deal, but these people Nick
and I are mixed up with are reluctant to renegotiate. They’ve
already received payment from their client and are just waiting for
me to deliver you to them. I’ve explained to Nick’s boss, Alexi,
that I’d made a mistake, that I had misidentified you, that I had
the wrong girl.”

Ty shook his head and kept his eyes pinned to the
floor.

“From the beginning, Alexi knew I was intending
retribution against Erin, and since he would directly benefit from
it, he was only too willing to accommodate me, but essentially, he
doesn’t care about the reasoning behind the plan. All he cares
about is that I owe him his, uh…merchandise. Merchandise he’s
already sold and been paid for. He only cares about closing the
deal. I told him I would repay the price his boss, Dmitri, had
accepted, with interest, and he could refund the money to his
client. But he’s not willing to do that. Nick said it’s not about
the money for Dmitri, it’s about power. They can’t allow themselves
to be screwed with, to look weak.”

He stopped pacing, stuffed his hands in his pockets,
and stared out the window.

“I told Alexi I would never turn you over—an
innocent girl—to be used that way. At this point, I couldn’t even
do that to Erin.”

Tyler’s focus wavered and he choked up. He looked
down at his feet and continued, his brow knitted tightly
together.

“We argued over this point for some time without
coming to an agreement, so Alexi felt… He felt it…necessary to
secure some kind of...insurance policy—leverage, you might say—to
compel me to complete the deal by our prearranged deadline.”

Tyler dropped his hands to his sides and tightened
them into fists. He glanced over his shoulder and looked me in the
eye.

“Hannah, Alexi has my brother, and he will kill him
if I don’t comply.”

I sucked in a large breath and my mouth fell open.
“Oh God, Tyler, I’m so sorry.” I stood and took a step toward
him.

He raised his hand to stop me. “I was allowed to
speak with Nick this morning before we left the café. He told me
not to go through with it, not to bring you in or to even attempt
to help him. He said that…that he was…willing...” Ty paused,
pressed his lips together, and swallowed hard. “He said that he was
willing to pay with his life.”

A single tear spilled from the corner of his eye.
The anguish there was unbearable to see. I was dumbfounded. Just
the day before, Nick had been all too eager to turn me over. I
wondered what had changed so drastically that he would offer
himself up in my place. I walked over and faced Ty.

“Why, Tyler? Why would Nick do that?”

He turned away and paced the room again. “I wondered
about that myself. He wasn’t very forthcoming with me, at first,
but…Nick eventually confessed something. I still can’t believe it
though.”

Tyler’s tenuous control over his emotions unraveled
even further. Tears streamed down his face and his chin quivered.
He looked ready to implode.

“Apparently, Nick has been harboring a great deal of
anger and resentment toward me since the deaths of our parents and
sister four years ago. He felt I blamed him, and thought he was
irresponsible and weak for getting sucked into drinking and drugs.
He thought I was disappointed in the man he’d become.” Tyler paused
and tried to gather himself, but failed. “I think… I think he hated
me for it.”

Ty could barely speak. He cried, his shoulders
shaking with pent up emotion. I reached out to comfort him, but he
pulled away.

“No!” He bowed his head and raised his finger,
asking me to wait. “Last winter, when Jillian discovered Erin
Anderson had stolen her card and assumed her identity, she became
frustrated by the authorities’ unwillingness to prosecute. She even
asked me to help, but I advised her to wait it out. With nowhere
else to turn, she approached Nick and asked for his assistance. But
when I got wind of their plan, I reprimanded Jillian and forbid
Nick from getting involved, a decision I regret, because if I had
just let Nick handle it, then maybe Jillian would still be alive.
But... But I...”

Tyler completely fell to pieces. He grabbed the back
of the sofa with both hands and doubled over, resting his forehead
against them, sobbing uncontrollably. It was heartbreaking to
watch, especially since I felt so incapable of comforting him.
Still, I reached out and touched his shoulder, but he shot up and
backed away with his hands in the air.

“No. Don’t fucking touch me. I’m...poison! I make
bad decisions and destroy everything I touch. Can’t you see? I
chose to ignore Nick, and now my parents and sister are dead. I
forbid Nick to help Jillian, and now she’s dead. I pulled Nick into
this mess, and now look what’s happened. And you, Hannah. God, look
at what I’ve done to you.”

He took a long pause, but still could not gather
himself together.

“Now, no matter what I do, someone will get hurt.
Someone may die. One way or the other. What am I supposed to do
now, Hannah? What?”

With a renewed effort, he began pacing back and
forth across the room, shaking his head.

“
No, I can’t. I can’t do this. I
can’t make that choice. I’ve already ruined Nick’s life. I’ve
ruined
your
life. This is impossible. I can’t do it. I just
can’t.”

And then he froze and tilted his face upward with
his hands atop his head.

“Godammit!
” he screamed. “How do I fix
this?”

Tyler slumped his shoulder against the wall and slid
down to the floor onto his knees where he wept into his hands. My
heart broke for him, cleaved in two. I walked over and knelt down
in front of him. I captured his face in my hands and pulled his
head to my shoulder, whispering his name while I soothed him.
Inconsolable, Ty placed his hands on my shoulders and tried to push
me away.

“No, Hannah…”

“Shush, Ty, shhh. It’s okay, it’s all right.” I
leaned back and kissed his forehead and cheeks, shushing him over
and over, like a mother to a distraught child.

“Don’t, please,” he pleaded as he pulled back.

He shook his head while I stared into his tortured
eyes, seeing for the first time all the tragedy embodied there. I
saw more pain than I thought any one person could ever contain. I
was desperate to ease it in some way, but I had no idea how. It was
a purely instinctual reaction to lean in and press my lips to his.
I pulled back and looked at him again, but the torment still
twisted his features, and tears continued to spill down his cheeks.
His head fell back against the wall, and his lips parted as his
hands fell away.

I moved my whole body into his and wrapped my arms
around his back, my cheek pressed against his chest. He rested his
hands along my waist and dropped his face into the crook of my neck
and shoulder.

“Hannah, please...don’t...” He sounded broken,
irreparably so. A man at the very end of his rope.

“
It’s okay,” I said over and over
as I held him. I cried, too. I couldn’t help it.

His body quaked with wracking sobs as he finally
wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight, his longing for
human compassion outweighing his need to distance himself. He cried
out for his parents, then his sister, and lastly, for Jill and
their lost child, insisting each death was his fault. He called out
for Nick, hopeless as to how he might save him and bring him back
alive. And he apologized to me, for being too focused on revenge,
for being drunk and careless with my life. He piled each of us onto
his shoulders and tried to carry the load, the burden way too much
for one man to bear alone.

With no other way to comfort him, I held him close
for a long, long time, until his sobs finally ebbed and his muscles
relaxed from exhaustion. He had no fight left in him. I pressed him
back onto the floor and leaned closely over his chest with my face
above his. His hands were raised, lying slack on the floor next to
his head, like an infant asleep in its crib. I reached out and
braided my fingers through his, pressing my palm flat against his
hand.

As he lay quietly beneath me, I ran my thumb over
the tense furrow dividing his brow. I stroked the wrinkle and eased
it away, just as I had yearned to do. His mouth fell slack, and the
last of his tears glistened in the soft light. I cupped my hand to
his damp cheek and slowly leaned down, my lips barely grazing his
mouth. I moved my head slightly from side to side and let the tip
of my tongue stroke his parted lips.

There was a tentative response as he finally seemed
to surrender. He sighed and closed his eyes then tightened his grip
around my fingers. He lifted his free hand and weaved it through my
hair, pulling me in gently and returning my kiss. It was guarded at
first, unsure, slow and tender. Then his body stirred beneath me, a
desperate hunger rising to the surface like a drowning man gasping
for one last breath. His arms coiled around by back, hands splayed
across my skin, fingers curled with nails that bit into my flesh,
as if he couldn’t pull me in close enough, tight enough.

He needed me, to heal him, to want him. And in that
moment, I did. I wanted him, just as much as he wanted me. It had
been so long since I’d felt desired by a man. I realized then just
how empty and lonely I had been, and not just for the last few
months either, but for years. Ty wasn’t the only one desperate for
human touch. My body quaked in urgency, and I cried. My tears fell
and mixed with Tyler’s and streamed down his temple. We shared our
quiet anguish, stirring our pain to bloom into a frantic kind of
passion.

I needed him to know that he could be forgiven, that
I could be the instrument through which he could ask for
forgiveness: forgiveness from his wife for letting her down, from
his brother for not being there when he needed him, from his
parents and sister for their preventable deaths, and lastly, from
me, for everything he had done. He needed forgiveness more than he
needed air in his lungs.

He would never be able to forgive himself until he
asked for it from those he loved, from those he had hurt most. I
had learned over the last few months that holding onto pain, anger,
and resentment only consumed the soul, leaving nothing but
bitterness, preventing one from moving on. I was trying my best to
forgive so that I could be released from all that. At some point,
Ty would need to let go and forgive, as well. He would need to
forgive himself
and
the woman who had taken everything away
from him. I would show him it could be done, to forgive the
unforgivable. I would give that to him. I would show him that there
was still hope—for him, for me, for Nick. For all of us.

It was my turn to take control. I removed Ty’s
clothes and then my own. I ran my hands over him, marveling at his
masculine beauty. He was so perfectly formed, broad shouldered,
hard and trim, and massively muscled. Completely flawless on the
outside, yet so terribly damaged within. I was overcome with my
need to comfort him, to show that I had forgiven him. To show him
that he could do the same. Lying beneath me, I saw that he was
ready, and so was I.

I gave myself over and made love to Ty on the
carpeted floor. I straddled his glorious body with my own and
pulled his face up to meet me. He held me about the waist, his lips
pressed to the hollow at my throat, and my cheek along the top of
his head. His despair, still raw and palpable, made our joining all
the more poignant.

In the long moments we held each other, we became
one. One spirit, one body, one soul with one purpose. We each cried
out, both in pain and in tortuous pleasure, holding on while our
bodies shook in fierce release. It was the single most bittersweet
moment of my entire life. One I would remember and cherish
forever.

We remained locked together until our breathing
calmed and our heartbeats returned to normal. I loosened my grip on
his shoulders and leaned back, smiling down at him tenderly. He
looked up and smiled, too, ever so slightly. Tears still sparkled
in his vivid blue eyes. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, and
with a tremulous sigh, his chin fall to his chest.

“Ah, Hannah…that doesn’t exactly make it any easier
for me now.”

I sighed in return and touched my hand to his cheek,
still damp with his tears. I raised his head up so he could look me
straight in the eye. And then it all became clear. I smiled.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I have an idea.”

Chapter
Thirty
-
Three

Tyler

I stood in the middle of the room and pulled my
clothes back on, staring in horror and fear. “No way, Hannah.
There’s no bloody way in hell.”

She glared at me with her arms crossed over her
chest, her fingers drumming against her bare skin. “Why not? It
just might work.”

I couldn’t believe she would ask me such a stupid
question, but then again, her suggestion had been far worse. I
crossed the room and touched my hand to her cheek. With a sorrowful
smile, I pulled her in close, resting my chin on the top of her
head.

“You are a silly, brave girl. And I…appreciate…your
generous offer.” I kissed her forehead then pulled back to look her
in the eye. “But that will never, ever happen.” I turned and walked
away, trying hard not to let my anxiety get the best of me yet
again.

“Do you have a better idea then?” she asked.

I looked back at her in wonder. “Come on, Hannah.
Any
idea would be better than that.”

She huffed and stomped her foot. “But you said this
Dmitri character made a deal with a client who would most likely
just keep me for himself, right? So then don’t you think it would
be easier for you and Nick to rescue me from that man’s house, than
it would be for you, all alone, to save Nick while he’s hidden
somewhere among all those thugs with guns? It would be suicide to
attempt that, Tyler, and you know it.”