"Not tonight, Calla," he growled, heading for the door to the bedroom. "Go back to sleep."
"Ryker!" I called, wincing when he stormed out and closed the bedroom door behind him. I glanced back at the bed and the mussed sheets, contemplating if I wanted to sleep alone.
He'd said we would sleep together from now on, but he'd also left me at the first hint of trouble for him. I should have known better.
And I still didn't know if there was another woman. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I needed him to talk to me to do that.
Deciding there would be no sleep for me, I grabbed a robe and wrapped it around myself. As I passed the office, I heard Ryker working himself to death in the gym, but I ignored him in favor of going downstairs for a drink of water. When that was done, I curled up on the couch with a movie on the television.
Maybe I'd sleep.
Eventually.
Thirty-Two
Ryker
It was safe to say that Calla was mad. She hadn't even woken up when I'd picked her up off the couch and brought her back to bed, irritated beyond belief with myself that I hadn't been able to just talk to her. But in the wake of my nightmare, it was all too easy to push her away.
I regretted pushing away the gentle affection she'd shown me. It had been progress; her showing that she cared about me even if she tried to fight it. I just had to hope that I hadn't done too much damage.
Having to leave to go stalk Tiernan Murphy seemed even worse than it had the day before. I should have stayed home with Calla and the kids and worked to draw her out of the funk that had taken hold. I didn't know if it was because I'd refused to talk to her, or if she genuinely felt threatened by whatever I'd done to her in my sleep, but she kept her distance to the best of her ability.
I had known something was wrong when Calla woke up before me and immediately started cooking crepes. Not that she couldn't cook, just that she hated mornings. For her to wake up and sneak out of bed before me was unheard of, and while I'd definitely appreciated the berries and cream crepes she'd made, I'd have gladly taken the smiling Calla I'd had with me over the weekend.
But like always, my past barged in and fucked everything to hell.
I kissed her tense, unwilling mouth, curling my fingers around the back of her neck to hold her still. "Try not to destroy the furniture while I'm gone, Hellcat," I murmured, a grin toying at the edges of my lips.
She didn't return it, didn't bother to call me an asshole or give me a mocking glare in response. Things were worse than I'd thought.
&nb
sp; "I'll be back as soon as I can," I said with a sigh. I'd already said goodbye to the kids, and I hated to think of the fact that Dante would drive them to take Axel to school. While he had his own security who watched over him when he was there now, I didn't think Calla would be pleased if I suggested that she stay home while his security, Celio, took him.
She might rip off my meatballs.
"Bye," she said sternly, grabbing her purse off the hooks near the entryway. "Come on, you two!" she called. Dante strode out past me with a look full of condemnation and terror. I knew the man was not looking forward to the day he had ahead of him dealing with an angry charge.
I left the Maserati for Dante to drive, and he looked like a kid in a candy store as he hopped in the driver's seat. As much as I hated the thought of someone else driving my baby, I didn't have much choice.
I'd needed him to bring my sedan for stalking. Calla raised her brows at me when I climbed into the nondescript car, and then her face twisted with more fury. I didn't understand what was so wrong about me taking an unfamiliar car, but there was something about it that only worsened her mood.
Fucking great.
As much as I loved her, I was ready to move forward. Ready to get past the distrust and the anger. My patience was at an end, and that meant that if Calla thought I'd been pushy before, she had another thing coming.
I drove out of the gate first, pushing the sedan harder than it had been designed to go in my anger. I was also too comfortable driving my Maserati that handled the speed like a dream.
Tiernan's home was on the other side of the city, within the small territory the Irish controlled with Matteo's permission. It was only seven in the morning when I pulled up a few houses down and turned the car off. Far too early for the man who worked late into the night to be up and moving around. I didn't expect to see much for a few hours, so I settled in to look over the dossier Don had given me on Murphy.
Most of it was nothing shocking. He'd been raised in the life, his father the trusted enforcer of the head of the Irish syndicate, Liam O'Connell, until the day he died. The connection had fostered his rise to power, but what surprised me were the notes that made me believe Murphy planned to overthrow Liam. At forty-years-old, maybe he'd tired of waiting for the old man to die.
Though, if word on the street was right, he'd long since gotten tired of waiting. Certain contacts of mine suspected he'd been the one to kill Aoife's mother because she'd opposed his marriage to her daughter, but nothing had been proven. He'd hired the Russians of all people to do it and then turned on them and worked to push them out of the city. Aoife had been a child at the time, nothing more than a pawn in a political maneuver to take over after Liam died.
But the old man showed no signs of slowing down.
I snapped my attention up when Murphy's front door opened and a woman walked out. Murphy followed her, stopping to kiss her sweetly on the doorstep. I'd watched enough men over the years to know the difference between a goodbye with a one-night stand, and a goodbye with someone that mattered on some level at least. I snapped a few shots with my camera for good measure.