No. He can’t be. Ryder wants me. He missed me. Regrets how he treated me. When he looks at me, touches me, kisses me … I know he means it. He. Wants. Me.

I stop and look out at the street, watching the taxis go by. Rushing to the curb, I hold up my hand and wave, flagging one of them down so that he pulls over to the curb with a squeal. I open the back door, sliding inside so I can collapse against the torn vinyl seat. I offer him my address and close my eyes, hating all the ugly noise carrying on in my head.

The tears that sting my eyes make me angry and I swipe at them with the back of my hand, furious at the weak show of emotion.

They aren’t tears over the loss of Zachary. They aren’t tears over the confusion with Ryder, either.

They’re sad little tears just for me.

Chapter Twenty

Ryder

I’m just about to leave when a key sounds in the deadbolt on my front door and the door swings open, revealing Pilar standing there, dressed to kill in a slinky black dress on a sunny spring Sunday afternoon. She looks like she’s on her way to a funeral.

Mine, most likely.

I regret not putting the security chain up. I regret more not leaving five minutes earlier. My biggest regret, though? That I gave that bitch a key to my apartment.

“Look at you, freshly showered and eager to leave.” She shuts the door behind her and glides into my living room like she hasn’t a care in the world, the smile on her face falsely bright and cheery. “Where are you off to?”

“Nowhere special.” I can’t tell her where I’m going. Where I’ve wanted to be since I left Violet alone Friday night. The regret that seized me from the moment I fled Violet’s apartment has held me paralyzed all weekend.

Now that I finally get my chance, my biggest obstacle comes over like she has some sort of sixth sense. She gets off on screwing me over.

“Well, you look delicious.” She pats my chest, her fingers curling, clinging to the fabric of my shirt, and I step back from her touch. A little pout crosses her lips and I’m tempted to tell her that look doesn’t work any longer. She’s too old for that shit.

But I don’t want to start a fight, so I let it pass.

“Did you need something? Because if it can wait …” My voice drifts and she sends me a pointed look, one that says she has her suspicions and she doesn’t care if I want to get out of here in a hurry or not. She’s going to get around to telling me what she wants whenever she feels like saying it.

“It can’t wait. And I do need something.” The façade drops, revealing just how irritated she really is with me. Her face morphs into a grimace. “You need to end it with Violet.”

If she’d come here yesterday, I could have told her I already had. At that precise moment I would have believed every word I said, too.

But now … I don’t want to end it.

“Says who?” I ask.

“Says me.” She taps my shoulder as she walks by and goes to sit on my couch, making herself at home, which irritates me further. “Come sit by me. Let’s cuddle like old times.”

Cuddle. The word makes me want to puke. “Why aren’t you with Lawrence? Isn’t he leaving soon? Go cuddle with him.” I wish he’d leave tomorrow. Tonight.

“I’m over him.” She waves a hand and rolls her eyes. “He’s still stuck on Violet. I can’t stand listening to him drone on and on about her, so I dumped him.”

Jesus. “What do you mean he’s still stuck on her?”

“He’s madly in love with her, Ryder. They were together for two years. That’s a lot of time to invest in someone, you know. And I do know, considering how long we’ve been together,” she says pointedly.

“We’re not together,” I remind her. And neither are Lawrence and Violet. I need to cling to that. Fuck, I need to get to Violet’s apartment and make her forget Zachary Lawrence was ever even in her life.

“We will always be together, darling. No matter how much you try and deny it, my claws are so deep in you, you will never be able to escape me.” She pats the empty space beside her on the couch. “Sit down.”

“No,” I bite out, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “I want you to go.”

“I’m not leaving until you really talk to me. I don’t want to fight.” She settles even deeper into the couch, looking quite pleased with herself. “Now come here and sit.”

“I’m not your fucking dog, Pilar.”

She lets out an irritated sound and cocks her head, contemplating me. “No, not a dog. But have you forgotten what you used to be, Ryder? Reckless. A drug addict. A drug dealer. Homeless.” She ticks off each item from my painful past like a shopping list. “You were nothing until I took you in. And in thanks, you fucked me relentlessly for providing you with a roof over your head and food in your belly.”

Hatred fills me, making my blood boil. I don’t say a word, and that just makes her angrier.

She stands, her expression full of fury. “How easily you forget everything I did for you. I cleaned you up. I made you respectable. I got you your start in this business and gave you money. I made you.”

“Trust me, I know. You won’t ever let me forget it, either.” I thrust my hands in my hair in frustration. “It’s been years, Pilar. You know we’ve grown apart. Hell, most of the time we go our separate ways. You’ll always have a special place in my heart, but what we once shared is over.” We stare each other down as we stand on either side of the coffee table, our bodies stiff, our gazes never wavering.