Page List


Font:  

If only I hadn’t brought her with us.

I turned my head, seeing her fast asleep next to me, and my arms hummed with the need to hold her. Her lashes were dark against her alabaster skin, and there was the smallest little space between her lips as she breathed in and out calmly.

Shifting onto my side and propping myself up on my elbow, I ran a light hand down her face, tracing the scar on her neck, and continuing down her body.

I leaned in and kissed her hair, breathing her in.

Nothing was her fault.

She was one of us—she was ours—and not only did I have a mountain of shit to do to make this right, but I almost feared that nothing would be enough. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted from her, but I knew I didn’t want to lose her.

And she’d grown very good at having a mind of her own.

Leaving her to sleep, I showered and dressed in black pants and a white dress shirt, knowing I’d have to take care of some business today.

The house was a disaster and since my parents were out of town, our housekeepers and cook were on vacation as well. I called in a temp crew, and by the time I got everyone left over from the party the hell out of my house, the workers were already there, getting started on the main rooms first, as well as cooking breakfast.

I called the facility where Rika’s mother was and informed them that Christiane Fane’s daughter would be in contact with her mother, and then I called a lawyer—not the family lawyer, someone that wasn’t paid by my father—to discuss Rika’s estate. I knew she didn’t trust me with

it—why should she?—but I didn’t want it reverting back to my father, either. We’d have to try to contest the will.

I got all of her money transferred back into her accounts, which was easy enough, since the guys had bluffed last night at Hunter-Bailey. We hadn’t quite gotten the shares doled out yet, so I still had access to everything and was able to put it all back and reactivate her credit cards with no problem.

After a couple of hours, I sat at the dining room table, a breakfast spread sitting out, Kai quiet and Will drifting in hungover. He looked a mess and immediately demanded to know what was next.

He wanted to go after Trevor.

“I can’t clean up one mess and then jump right into another,” I gritted out. My plate was already too full.

“Yeah, that was your fault,” he threw back. “And Damon’s, for giving you bad information. We followed like we always do.” He looked to Kai for backup. “But I’m doing it my way now. I would like you with me. If not, I’ll survive.”

He tossed back some aspirin, chasing it with an entire bottle of water.

Yeah, it was my fault. We’d hurt Rika when it should’ve been Trevor, but I needed a breath first.

I pushed my plate away, sitting back in my seat and looking up to find her standing in the doorway.

I locked eyes with her, my heart skipping a beat. She looked absolutely beautiful. As if she hadn’t been through hell last night.

She’d showered, put on some make-up and straightened her hair, and she was dressed in some tight jeans, a white shirt, and a little red jacket with black shoes.

Was she leaving?

“Rika.” Kai stood up, looking contrite. “Would you like something to eat?”

I narrowed my eyes on him.

But she ignored him and met my eyes again. “My mother,” she demanded.

I nodded, picking up a card off the table and holding it up for her. “Her counselor’s number. You’re on her list of contacts now. Call whenever you like.”

She walked over and took the card, looking down at it.

And I could tell that whatever happened between us in Trevor’s room last night was over for now. She was clear-headed and back to business.

Before she got a chance to say anything else, Will shoved a plate into her hands. “Here.”

He reached over, grabbing a serving spoon full of scrambled eggs and began loading Rika’s plate.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance