“He’s broken, Liv. I don’t doubt that he cares for you in some way, but I guarantee he doesn’t know what to do with it.”
Her heart stuttered, then slowly picked up speed. He didn’t just care for her, he loved her. And though he’d made mistakes—big ones—that didn’t mean he was broken either, as her sister wanted her to believe. It just meant . . . he was a guy. A stupid guy, sure. A brainless, idiotic guy, you bet. But then a lot of guys did really moronic things when they were in love, especially when they didn’t think there was any chance it could work out.
And why would he think they had a chance in hell to make it work? He was due back to the DIA next week. He’d thought she was in Idaho at the time. She knew how guys thought. They hadn’t even kissed by that point, and they were by no means a couple. If he’d been feeling lonely and depressed, why wouldn’t he pick up some random woman?
Could she really hold that against him, especially now, when he was telling her the reason he’d done it was so he could try to get over her?
Don’t be stupid, Olivia.
She wasn’t trying to be. She didn’t want to be. But . . . He hadn’t really slept with that woman, and . . . He loved her.
Her whole body warmed and tightened, and all those fantasies she’d tried to squash came bursting back to life.
He loves . . . me.
Happiness pushed her forward, and she laid her hand over his, lying against his chest, wanting to touch him, to kiss him, to be close to him as they’d been the other night. But he didn’t close his fingers around hers as he’d done before.
“Once you get back to your real life,” he mumbled, tipping his head away from her as he drew in a deep breath, his words growing softer, “it won’t matter anymore.”
He seemed to be drifting off to sleep. Disappointment echoed through her, but she figured she could wait and talk to him when he awoke. Then his words—and meaning—finally registered, and everything inside her went cold.
“No matter where I go . . .”
I not we. He was still leaving. Not next week when he had to report back to the DIA, but tomorrow, today, whenever he came out of this alcohol-induced haze. He’d told her back in that barn after they’d made love that he’d be out of her life soon, and now she knew what he’d meant. Nothing had changed for him. It didn’t matter that he loved her. It didn’t matter what they’d been through together. He was making all the decisions—like always—and he wasn’t taking her feelings into consideration at all.
Anger welled inside Olivia. Anger and a newfound strength that came out of nowhere and gave her purpose.
She let go of his hand and leaned back, her mind a whir of the past few days, the last few months, and a future she couldn’t quite see. It was time to stand up for herself. Time to stop being everyone’s burden. All the awful things she’d been through—every single one—had been leading her to this point. Not to a man who might be the love of her life as she’d hoped, but to finally taking charge of her future instead of being a passive character in an endless tragedy.
Her heart pinched as she looked down at Landon. She wasn’t going to try to stop him from leaving. She wasn’t going to be that girl who begged and made a scene. But she would miss him. And though she’d probably have a good long cry about this at some point, it wasn’t going to be today. Today she was starting over.
And doing it her way.
Fresh from a shower, Landon grimaced as he shrugged into the gray T-shirt Marley had left for him on the bathroom counter and buttoned his jeans. His bandaged arm hurt like a bitch, but it was a thousand times better than earlier when the woman had sliced him open with that scalpel and started digging around in his muscle.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but he’d been thankful when he’d awoken to find that little bit of horror finished. It was dark outside now, the house quiet. And though he knew he needed more sleep, he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to Olivia. To whether or not she was somewhere in this big house or if Eve had already taken her home.
A quick burst of panic tightened his chest. He wanted her gone. Wanted her safe. But he needed to see for himself that he hadn’t fucked things up so badly for her this time that she wouldn’t recover. And he’d had the strangest dream about her. That she’d been sitting with him, tickling his chest hair. That she’d been touching him with those silky fingers when she shouldn’t want to be anywhere near him.
Nerves strung tight, he swiped the steam from the mirror and stared at his blurry reflection. His face was black and blue around one eye, a few small scrapes marred his skin, and he had at least two days’ worth of dark stubble that desperately needed to see the sharp side of a razor. Definitely not his best look. Definitely a face that was going to remind her of her hell. If she was even still around.
Screw it. He turned out of the bathroom and moved into the hall. Walking through the main level, he checked rooms—the living room, the den, the industrial-size kitchen, the dining room—only they were all as empty and silent as the rest of the house.
A clock in the kitchen told him it was well after eleven p.m. For a moment he considered checking rooms upstairs, but then he thought better of it. If she was still here, she was probably asleep, and he’d already messed things up enough for her. The least he could do was give her a few hours of peace before he reminded her of this nightmare and gave her yet another reason to hate him.
Leave now. Get the hell out. You’ve got no reason to stay.
He didn’t. That was true. But for some reason his body didn’t want to obey his mind’s orders.
Drawing a deep breath of balmy evening air, he moved out onto the back veranda that overlooked the water shimmering under the moonlight. Ryder’s house was built into the cliff, and it curved along the rocks as if building and stone were made for each other. Tiny lights like sparkling diamonds dotted the pathways that led down to the sea, giving the entire area a fairy-tale quality, and the palms around him rustled gently in the breeze.
On any other night he might have appreciated the view, but tonight he couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. He needed to check in with his CO, needed to find out what the DIA knew about the Red Brotherhood’s recent activities, but his body didn’t want to obey that order either. He wasn’t ready to rejoin the real world just yet. Couldn’t even think about what came next until he watched Olivia get on that plane and knew for himself that she was safe.
Idiot. Total fucking idiot. Don’t just walk away. For her sake, you should run.
A flicker of light to his left pulled at his attention, and he looked toward the east wing, squashing that voice once more. A body passed in front of the light in a row of windows, kicked out, then jumped to the side. Narrowing his eyes, Landon realized it was Marley. Her blonde hair was pulled back, she was wearing workout clothes, and she looked to be beating the crap out of something in some kind of gym.
Marley had to know where Olivia was. She knew everything. He’d just make sure Olivia was okay, and then he’d make that call to his CO and get on with it.
He moved back inside. Finding a set of stairs that led down, he followed the corridor toward the gym he’d seen above. Laughter met his ears as he drew close, followed by a grunt, a smack, and a slap that told him someone was definitely sparring. His hand closed around the door handle, and he pulled the heavy steel door open, then came to an abrupt halt.
A thick blue mat lined the floor. Punching bags hung from the ceiling to the left. Windows made up the wall to the right side, and ahead a mirror ran the length of the room. But it only took a split second to realize the woman he’d seen wasn’t Marley. It was Olivia. And she wasn’t working out with any kind of punching bag.
Mick Hedley stood in front of her on the mat, his shaggy, surfer-boy blond hair ruffled, his taped up hands in front of his face. His chest and feet were bare, the only piece of clothing on his body a thin pair of sweats riding
low on his hips. But it was Olivia who Landon couldn’t take his eyes off of. She wore a sports bra and skintight yoga pants, her exposed skin slicked with a thin layer of sweat that made her look sexy as hell, and she was kicking out at Hedley, throwing punches like a prizefighter.
She arced out with a right hook, and Hedley grabbed her by the arm, then flung her away. She grunted as she hit the mat on her side, and Landon’s entire body tensed, ready to spring to action to grab her. But she popped back up before he could move and threw a jab straight to Hedley’s stomach, one that had the Aussie doubling over and sucking in a breath.
“Good one, Liv.” Sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the mat, dressed in spandex shorts and a tank, Marley laughed. “Now show her that move you showed me, Mick.”
Hedley rubbed his abs with one hand and reached for Olivia’s arm, twisting her around so her back was plastered to his front. “Okay, don’t kick me in the balls. Someday I might want to have a little rug rat.”
Olivia grinned. “I’ll try not to.”
Marley huffed. “As if you could find a girl who’d put up with your BS, Mick.”
Hedley grinned. “It could happen. What do you think, Idaho? Think the girl of my dreams is out there?”
Olivia’s smile widened. “I’m not sure. Do you cook?”
Holy shit. They were flirting. Landon blinked and shook his head to clear away the cobwebs from the 151, sure he had to have heard them wrong.
Hedley chuckled. “You sheilas always ask the tough questions.” His hand slid down to Olivia’s slim waist, the tips of his fingers grazing her bare midriff as he positioned her in front of him, clearly rubbing against her ass. “Okay, the key to this is to just let yourself relax. Don’t think. Remember what I taught you before. Feel my body moving against your back. You’ll sense when it’s time to strike.”
Feel my body moving against your back? Oh, no fucking way. The prick was definitely putting the moves on her.
“Take your hands off her, Hedley.”
Olivia’s head snapped up, and her soft green eyes widened when she spotted Landon, but whatever she was thinking, she masked it quickly.
Hedley and Marley both glanced toward the door where Landon stood in the shadows. Marley pushed to her feet. Tension shot the temperature in the room up ten degrees, but Landon barely cared. All he saw was Hedley’s hands on Olivia’s bare skin. Grabbing her in a way no one should be grabbing her. He zeroed in on Hedley with the pinpoint focus he usually saved for his targets.
Hedley quickly lifted his fingers from Olivia’s waist. But Olivia grabbed them before the man could move even a few inches away and slapped them back against her bare midriff. “Leave your hands exactly where they are, Mick.”
A red haze slid over Landon’s vision. No one touched her like that. No one but him.
“Keep going, Mick,” she said in a very confident, very take-charge voice. One Landon hadn’t heard from her before.
“Um . . .” Hedley hesitated, his gaze unsure as it flicked from Landon to Marley and back again.
The haze intensified. Landon felt himself slipping into that zone, where the training kicked in and his brain shut down. Where his body reacted on instinct and moved on autopilot.
“Let go of her, Mick.” Jake’s voice echoed somewhere in the room. Landon couldn’t tell where the man was—nor did he bother to look. Right now he was ready to pound someone into the ground, and he didn’t care who it was—friend or foe.
Hedley lifted his hands from Olivia’s waist once more. When she tried to pull them back, he mumbled, “Sorry, pretty girl. It’s not personal. But I’m kind of attached to my hands and would really like to keep them.”
Olivia let him go. But that fire in her eyes flared hot, and her gaze never once wavered from Landon’s.
Several tense seconds passed, and then she stepped forward. Landon’s stomach tightened as she drew close, but she didn’t touch him. She didn’t even stop. Just went right on by, heading for the door. But everyone in the room heard her mutter, “Fuck you, Miller.”
The door to the gym slammed shut behind her.
Landon stood still where he was for several moments, that red haze slowly receding. No one spoke, but out of the corner of his eye he caught the lift to Marley’s brow and the way to go, champ look on her face. A look that kicked his brain into gear and whisked away the rest of that haze.
Fuuuck. He’d reacted without thinking. Let his emotions get the best of him. Emotions he never let free. Olivia had simply been blowing off steam. Steam she had every right to want to expend.
Guilt slithered in, replacing all that heat and anger he’d been on the verge of unleashing, leaving behind a sea of disgust. He turned for the door.
Jake pushed a hand against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t.”
Landon looked his friend in the eye. “I won’t.”
“You will. I can see it. Cut her loose, man. You and I both know it’s the only thing you can do. Let Eve take her home.”
Cut her loose . . . The words were there, the same ones that had been echoing in Landon’s head for hours.
He needed to. Knew Jake was right and that it was time. But something in the center of his chest pinched so hard at the thought, it stole his breath.
He couldn’t find the words to agree. All he could do was nod. Jake hesitated several seconds, then dropped his hand and stepped aside so Landon could pass.
“Miller?” Jake called.
Landon paused two steps down the hall but didn’t turn.
“Remember what matters.”
Fucking A. That was all Landon could think about anymore.
Olivia’s hands were shaking by the time she made it back to her room. Thankfully, Eve was nowhere to be seen. If she’d had to face her sister the way she was feeling right now, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“Take your hands off her . . .” What the hell was she? A piece of meat?
“Olivia.”
She whipped around at the sound of Landon’s voice and just barely held back from launching herself at him. She’d never been a violent person, but right now she wanted to be one. Needed to do something to get rid of all this anger and adrenaline and frustration. “Get out of my room.”
He didn’t stop the door from slapping shut at his back. Just looked at her with that aggravating I know best look that only infuriated her more.
“I know you’re mad. You—”
“Mad? Mad? You haven’t seen mad yet.”
He blew out a breath. “Look. I probably overreacted a little. I—”
“Ya think?”
He frowned. “Will you let me finish? I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
Whoever you want. That’s what he was really saying. She’d seen the quick shot of jealousy on his face when he’d stepped into that gym and caught Mick’s hands on her, but he was squashing it now. Acting as if he didn’t care, as he’d done so many other times she wanted to scream. But she was done letting him push her away as if she didn’t matter. She did matter. If he didn’t want her that was fine, but she was done letting him make her feel things that were only going to set her further back.
She pushed down all those stupid schoolgirl emotions and moved toward him, heading for the door. “You’re right.” She was also done waiting for someone to save her. It was way past time she saved herself. “I’ll fuck whoever I want.”
He captured her arm at the biceps before she could get past, stopping her momentum. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.” She tugged her arm from his grasp and reached for the door handle. “Let me go, Landon. Just let me go for good.”
His hand slapped the wood just above her head, preventing her from opening the door. “I . . . can’t.”
His whispered words held so much angui
sh, her heart lurched in her chest. Her hand froze against the door handle. He didn’t touch her, didn’t move closer, but his heat washed over every inch of her skin, and his warm breath fanned the nape of her neck, sending the fine hairs beneath her ponytail to stand at attention.
“I know I should,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear him. “I know it’s the only thing I can do. But I . . . can’t. I need to protect you.”
Her heart rate shot up. “Protect me? Or control me?”
“Livy,” he whispered.
“No.” She gathered her courage, let go of the door, and turned to face him. He was only centimeters away, his hand braced against the wood above her head, looking down at her. And though his eyes were pained, though she knew he was struggling, she wasn’t about to give him an ounce of pity. Not now. Because she was struggling just as much. “I’m a person, not a thing.”
“I know that.”
“No, I don’t think you do. You treat me as if I’m made of glass. I’m not, you know. I’m pretty damn strong. Stronger than you give me credit for. You say you love me, but this isn’t love. This is you trying to manipulate me into doing what you want—or not, as the case may be.”
“I . . .” His face went ashen. He dropped his hand from the door and quickly stepped back. “How . . . ? What . . . ? Why the hell would you say that?”
Oh yeah, Marley had been right. His filter had clearly been down thanks to the 151. He obviously didn’t remember spilling that little secret. But Olivia no longer cared. She was done letting him push her around.
She stepped away from the door, advancing on him. “You shouldn’t drink so much. Or mix alcohol with Xanax, apparently.”
He moved back another step, stumbling when his leg hit the arm of a chair. She knew she was freaking him out, but she didn’t care about that either. For once she felt powerful. “If you don’t want me, that’s fine. But stop trying to dictate my life. I don’t need you, Landon. I may want you, but I’ll get over that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can get over anything.”