McKenna

My palm connects with Gabe’s smooth face, and the sting blasts across my fingers, tingling down into my arm. Teeth clenched, my chest squeezes, my heart shattering under the foreign coldness in Gabe’s hazel eyes. He’s towering over me, his three extra inches seem so much taller today. His sculpted mouth is set into a firm line, and his angular cheekbone flushes pink. It’s him, the man who’s been filling my dreams every night, but I don’t even recognize him.

Gabe recovers quickly; his head slowly turns to face me once more. “Do not do that again,” he warns.

I take a step back when he steps forward, trying to get away from all that coldness that’s chasing away the heat in my body. Then he’s got me pressed against the wall, trapping me between him and the wall. “You will answer me,” he growls. “Why have you sold me out to that fucking tabloid?”

My head is spinning, my voice all but gone. The anger he’s projecting is so unlike him I’m trying desperately to catch up. I’m still reeling that he finally crossed the employee-boss line, trying to recover from the fact that Gabe was inside me, so much so that I can’t begin to process what he’s accusing me of now. “Pardon?” is all I can manage.

“No more games, McKenna,” he bites off, his cheek now flaming red from my hit. “Tell me now.”

I’m staring at him, trying to understand where all this is coming from. I saw him yesterday here at work, and while he seemed distant, he wasn’t like this. Hell, I thought from how much flirtier he’d been over the past few months that we were finally going to start dating, and he was simply figuring out the logistics of that. I thought there was something special between us. No, I know there was. My chin quivers but I force the tears not to come. “I have honestly no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

One brow arches. “Pretty lies from a pretty mouth.”

Feeling a second away from bursting into tears, I sneak under his arm and gather my pants and panties off the floor. My chest is rising and falling, my emotions in my throat; the accusations he’s made cut like knives into my belly.

“You’re not going anywhere until you answer me,” he states behind me.

His tone is as threatening as I’ve heard, but I won’t be bullied. Not by a man who I cared for and trusted, and who apparently fucked me out of rage. There’s a deep throb in my temple as I’m trying to make sense out of this. I’ve never sold anyone out for anything but somehow I can’t find the words to tell him that. Broken in ways I’ve never been broken, I pull on my panties, and my hands are shaking when I step into one jean leg.

“I know, McKenna,” he says through clenched teeth, thrusting a hand through his dark-brown hair that’s even more unruly than usual. “I know everything. You can’t hide behind your lies anymore.”

Maybe it’s his tone, or the fierce way he’s looking at me, but my shock begins to fade. “That’s the second time that you’ve called me a liar,” I say to him, wiggling myself into my skinny jeans, pulling them up over my bum, both cold and hot and wishing I was anywhere but here. “That’s two times too many.” All my heartache is suddenly gone. Rage that burns wicked and hot replaces the pain, because how fucking dare he? “What have I ever done to deserve to be shit on all the time?” I yell, glancing up at the ceiling, screaming to anyone who will hear me.

It never stops.

Nothing good can ever last.

For one year, I had a small piece of happiness that I thought maybe meant fate was finally being kind to me for once. But why I thought that was possible is utterly beyond me. Fate hates me. I button up my jeans and then tell Gabe sternly, “I’m going to say it one more time, Gabe. I have no idea what in the hell you are going on about.”

Arms crossed over his thick chest, his eyes narrow into his slits, the anger in the depths palpable. “You know exactly what I’m talking about because why else would you hit me.”

“Why else would I hit you? Are you fucking serious?” I ask, incredulous, tossing up my hands in sheer frustration. “We have sex, after months and months of us refusing this thing between us. Here I am thinking that finally, finally, for once in my life I’m going to be happy. For once, I get to win instead of losing all the time. That for once, you’re going to stop refusing to be with me because I work for you.” I fight against the tears, refusing to let him see my emotions, see how much this breaks me. “Only I find out now that you had sex with me out of, what? Rage? Because you think I’m behind . . . something . . . that I’m not fucking behind.” I go to turn away.

“You are not going anywhere.” He grabs my wrist.

Heat and tension radiate through me as I look down at his hand and then look at him. All the warmth and affection I once felt for him no longer lives inside me, only the cold sliver of betrayal. “Let go of me,” I warn, breaking into pieces, leaving my heart and soul in ashes by his feet. “Right now.”

Perhaps it’s my voice, or even my expression that makes him pause and release my wrist. But I see something different now. I’ve broken through his hard shell. There’s a crack in his rage. It’s confusion, but there’s so much anger he can’t see clearly.

“Who do you know at that tabloid?” he asks, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You must know someone there, and that’s why you’re doing this. Is it loyalty to someone else?”

“Loyalty? What?” I need to get out of here, I’m very close to breaking down in front of him, my throat squeezing tighter. “I don’t know anyone at any tabloid. I don’t even read them for fuck sakes.” My heart is pounding, my palms are clammy. I spin around and move to the front door.

I don’t even get two steps forward before he’s there, placing a hand on the door, setting his fierce glare on me. “Is it the money? Is that why you would do something like this to me? Because you are in debt or something.”

“No,” I bite off.

His nostrils flare. “Have I done something to you to cause this type of betrayal?”

“No.”

“Have my friends burned you somehow? Do you have history with any of them?”

“No.”

“Have I hurt you?”

My breath hitches, and all I can do is stare at him. “You’re hurting me now.”

“Before now,” he retorts, brows furrowed tight. “What have I done before now to make you betray me like this?”

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’m a second away from sobbing at his feet, but my breaking point is reached. “Please, Gabe, hear me. I don’t need or want your money. I have no loyalty to anyone at the tabloids. You didn’t cause me to do this. Your friends didn’t cause me to do this.” I take a step forward and say as sternly as I possibly can, “Because I didn’t do this! I. Am. Not. Selling. You. Out. To. The. Tabloids.”

Silence falls.

Heavy silence.

Then, he leans into my face. “You’ve burned me in all the ways you can burn a man. You owe me the fucking truth.”

I inhale deeply, clenching my fists at my sides. “You want the truth?” I ask slowly.

“You owe me that.”

I step in even closer, getting right into his face. “I would never, ever do anything to betray you. That is not the way my heart works. I’m loyal to the very end. I don’t know why you think I’ve done this. But you’re wrong, it’s not me.” I stare at him, and for a second, I can’t hide how much his doubt hurts. Nor can I hide what he’s done to me today, and how that’s ripped apart my heart, which has been ripped apart far too many times already.

He releases a loud breath through his nose, and then everything dominant about him softens. For one second, pain ripples across his features. And it’s pain that affects me on every level, because I’m feeling the same heartache. It’s the type of hurt that is felt deep in the soul, changing how a person perceives the world, building walls to protect the person they used to be.

Taking my cue to leave, I reach for the handle on the door. Just as my hand squeezes the door, I’m grabbed around my middle and tossed over Gabe’s shoulder. “Put me down, right now, Gabe,” I shout.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He opens the door and steps outside, and I hear a bunch of men laughing off in the distance. He locks the pub’s door and pauses. “Besides, you already hate me,” he adds without the fierceness I heard before, “so I can’t make things any worse than they already are. I need answers on this, McKenna, and I’m going to get them.”

Gabe

Twenty-five minutes later, I pull up to Blackwood Security, Ryder’s company. Once a chocolate factory, now headquarters of the multi-million-dollar security detail company known to provide protection to senators, celebrities, and government officials. I’d opted to drive my white Audi A5 instead of my bike since I doubted McKenna would agree to come. I’m not proud that I forced her into the car, but I’m done treading lightly. I need answers, and her reactions aren’t lining up. I’d expected her to ’fess up the second I confronted her, not adamantly deny involvement.

There’s no question McKenna is behind this. Ryder was sure. Maybe she’s an expert liar, but I know Ryder will get the truth out of her, one way or another. Because between him and his team, they are experts in unearthing dirty little secrets. They not only have the expertise but they also have the technology and the hacker to dig into anyone’s life and discover what they’re hiding.

This mess needs to be put to bed. I must put this tabloid shit behind me once and for all. Not only for me, but for my friends who went through hell because McKenna put goddamn bugs in my pub.

I park the car next to Ryder’s bright blue Ram truck in the rectangular parking lot, with only five other vehicles, and turn off the ignition. Then I dare to glance next to me and address McKenna, “If what you say is true, and you are not the one selling me out, then you have nothing to hide and will come in there with me.”

She frowns, looking at the blackwood security sign above the door before glancing at me. “Fine, let’s get this over with so I can go home,” she says to me, hastily exiting the car.

Her agreement only confuses me more. She’s not acting guilty. Fuck, Ryder better not have been wrong.

With a heavy sigh, I follow her out, ignoring the way my chest tightens at the hurt in her eyes, replaying all the things she’d said in my mind. On one hand, I desperately want to believe what she’s telling me. On the other hand, she may be playing my emotions, and my weakness toward her may be the very thing making me not see straight.

Me, she can fool. Ryder, she can’t.

This time, she willingly strides beside me up to the metal door. My head hurts, my body feels like it’s run a marathon when I walk up the back stairs of the old factory, and they groan under my weight.

Before I can press the buzzer next to the fingerprint scanner, the heavy door swings open, and the screech of metal fills the air. Ryder’s on the other side, smirking. He’s got a few centimeters of height on me, and a bit more bulk from his time in the Army Rangers, I’m sure. His wise, stern green eyes scan my face before focusing on McKenna next to me.

“I admit,” he finally says, running a hand across his dirty-blond buzz cut. “When I told you McKenna was behind putting the bugs in your pub, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to bring her here.”

“She’s denying it,” is all I say.

Ryder’s brows shoot up as he slides his gaze to McKenna. “Well, that’s a turn I certainly wasn’t expecting.”

“Great, just what I want, more people looking at me suspiciously,” she says with a snort, crossing her arms. “I think I’ve had about enough. So, I will say what I said to Gabe and then I’m leaving. If anyone tries to stop me, I’m going to call the police.” She draws in a big deep breath and slowly lets it out, placing her hands on her hips. “I am not behind this thing with the tabloids. I have no idea why you think that I am, but your information is dead wrong. It’s not me. I haven’t sold any story. And if I have to say this again, I’m going to hurt someone in ways that make Hannibal Lecter look friendly.”

Ryder’s eyes crease with amusement. “While that threat is highly entertaining, and I admit I’m intrigued by what exactly that would look like, I suggest not hurting anyone here. You’d probably end up being in a position that would make your day much more miserable.” He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, studying her. “That said, I’m not sure how much Gabe told you.” His gaze meets mine, and he grins at me before saying to McKenna, “I take it, from the look of both of you, the manner of disclosure might not have been the best way to go about this. So, let me be frank, Ms. Archer. I’ve recently discovered that there were recording devices in the pub. From my sources, I know that someone paid an employee at the bar to place the bugs. My team set up an operation to discover which employee. It turned out the person who placed the bugs used your security code to enter the bar after hours. So, either you’ve given your code to someone else or you’re the one behind this.”

Silence descends, and it’s in those seconds that feel like a lifetime that something profound happens. The tightness in McKenna’s expression slowly begins to lessen, awareness fills her eyes, and her skin pales.

I give Ryder a quick glance, wondering if he’s seeing what I am. His brows are furrowed, head is cocked, confusion heavy in his gaze.

“McKenna,” I say gently.

She wobbles a bit, places a hand on the railing next her. “My brother. It could be my brother . . . he might have seen me enter the security code before, when he’s come to visit me before we opened.”

There’s a lot to think about in what she’s said, but my mind takes me to only one place now. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I don’t talk about him,” she says, avoiding my gaze, her knuckles white around the railing.

Ryder glances at her knuckles, then frowns at me. I give him the nod he’s searching for before he turns his attention back onto McKenna. “I don’t think this is going to be a quick conversation.” He steps away from the door, opening it wider. “Come in. You look like you need some water.”

McKenna’s head snaps up. “I want to go h—”

Ryder raises his hand, gives her a level look. “I’m not going to force you to come inside, but I have a video, and now I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a connection and this guy in the video is really your brother.”

My frown is immediate, and Ryder’s responding sigh is just as fast. I wasn’t aware he had a video. And if I had known I might not have reacted the way I did earlier with McKenna.

“We found it this morning,” Ryder says to me, and the look he gives me is apologetic. “I didn’t want to bother you with it unless I knew it mattered.”

I clench my jaw and shove my hands into my pockets, staring down at the scuff on my boots, while Ryder addresses McKenna again. “You can watch the video and leave. That’s one sure way to know if your brother is involved in this. I assure you after that, no one will stop you from leaving.”

McKenna gives me a quick look, seemingly as exhausted as I feel, and then sighs. “Okay, one video, then I’m gone.” She enters the factory.

When I step inside and Ryder shuts the door, he pats my back, insinuating, Bad move, buddy, bad move. But I can’t play nice anymore, and earlier, all the tension and the stress made me break. I’m done playing by the rules and using a gentle touch, hoping we can get this tabloid shit behind us. My life is now public conversation.

Ryder leads the way, and McKenna follows him past the old chocolate machinery. I stare at her back, confusion messing with my mind. I’d been so sure she was behind this. I’d taken her roughly, without the tenderness she deserved, thinking she betrayed me. What had I done if she hadn’t?

It’s a thought I don’t even want to consider.

I draw in a deep breath, refocusing my thoughts not to get ahead of myself. When we enter Blackwood Security headquarters, the space looks more like a CIA setup than anything else. Monitors line the walls, while Ryder’s team work intel for whatever case they currently have on their plate. Where the government has the CIA and the FBI for intelligence, the private sector has Blackwood Security, and that’s where Ryder’s wealth comes from.

I stay focused on McKenna as we move into a meeting room encased with the one-way black glass. Ryder likes his privacy, and that only makes me trust him more. He’s careful, even with his team.

Just as McKenna takes her seat around the circular glass table across from Ryder, Ryder’s second-in-command, Alex McCoy, pops her head through the doorway. She’s a cute twentysomething woman. With her long dark ponytail, skinny jeans, and black blackwood security T-shirt, she doesn’t look old enough to be here, but her sharp golden eyes shine with wisdom. “Need me?” she asks.

“Please.” Ryder nods.

She enters the room with her laptop in hand and takes a seat next to Ryder. I remain on my feet, leaning against the wall, not taking my eyes off McKenna. For all I know this story is a ruse to throw us off. McKenna’s smart and clever, and I don’t put it past her to outsmart us all.

“All right,” Ryder says, his eyes meeting mine quickly before he addresses Alex. “Go ahead and pull that video up.”

Her fingers fly across the keyboard, then on the glass wall behind them a video pops up. It shows a busy night at the pub, nothing special. I’m there working behind the bar, and so is McKenna.

“We’ve watched hundreds of hours of surveillance videos from the bar in the weeks leading up to the very first tabloid article about Micah. While we thought,” Alex says, speaking directly to McKenna, “you were behind this, I told Ryder this morning that I thought we might be wrong. I think it’s this guy right here.” She clicks a couple buttons, stopping at the back of someone else walking down the street near the back door of the bar. “This surveillance video stream is from a business across the street from O’Keefe’s, and he keeps showing up on all the days that the bar’s security cameras went down, which we assume is when the bugs were planted. Sadly, we don’t have a clear shot of the back door, nor does the bar have a video camera in the kitchen, which leads to the server room.”

McKenna leans forward and studies the screen. “This picture isn’t very clear.”

“Here, I’ve got a better shot,” Alex says.

A few clicks later, another image of the side of the guy’s face shows on the screen. McKenna’s skin goes ghost white, her voice barely a whisper, “That’s my brother. That’s Evan.”

Ryder leans forward across the table to her, staring at McKenna intently. “Now why would your brother be bugging Gabe’s bar?”

“Money, I can only guess.”

I’m hearing the conversation but all the air leaves my lungs as the situation I thought was terrible is now made worse. My stomach is roiling. I can’t even comprehend all that’s gone wrong in the last couple hours or how to fix anything. But one thing I do know by looking at her. “You don’t seem surprised that your brother would do something like this.”

“Because I’m not surprised,” McKenna says, avoiding my gaze, staring down at her hands pressing against the desk. “He was probably paid well by the tabloid, and that’s something he would totally do, no matter who he hurt.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cellphone, dials a number, then places the phone to her ear. “Evan, I don’t know what shit you’re up to, but your mess is now my mess. Call me.” She ends the call, shuts her eyes a minute. The pain that ripples across her face makes me hate myself for so many reasons and more. I want to reach for her, beg her to forgive me, take away that pain, but I have no right to touch her now.

When she reopens her eyes, they’re misty. “I don’t know why he’s done this,” she says to Ryder. “But that’s him on the video, so there’s really no denying his involvement. Will you be calling the police?”

Ryder and Alex exchange a look, then Ryder frowns at her. “Has this happened to you before?”

She rises from her seat, her fingers gripping the edge, knuckles white. “Has Evan fucked up my life? Yes. Many, many times before today. He has a gambling addiction. So, he gets in trouble and I bail him out.” She blinks, a coldness that haunts me slides over her face. “I take it that you know my address?”

Ryder nods. “I do.”

“Good, then you know where to send the police when you want to press charges against him.” With the same void of emotion in her voice, she turns to me. “You have my phone number, so text me when my final check is ready and I’ll come get it.”

I’m lost, staring into her eyes, seeing right through her. Sure, she’s playing this off like she’s got it all together, but I see the pain hiding behind the strength in her eyes.

Pain that I helped cause.

She’s going to break. I want to be there when she does.

“McKenna,” I say, somehow scrambling to fix how she’s shutting down.

“What?” she asks.

I take a step forward to do . . . something, but the raw heady pain in her eyes stops me in my tracks. Christ, what have I done to her? How do I even attempt to remove the agony ripping through her? Agony that I understand, because I felt it this morning. But she has it worse now. She wasn’t only betrayed by her brother. I betrayed her, too, and worse, she didn’t deserve any of it.

“Please let me explain,” I say to her.

She holds up her hand, stopping me. “I’m sorry my brother did this to you,” she says softly, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s unforgivable. But do not take another step toward me. I can’t take anymore, Gabe.”

An apology hangs on my tongue, but that’s not good enough, I know that. Instead of believing her, I thought the very worst of her. She deserves so much better than that. I realize in that very moment, that being hurt . . . being disappointed . . . is something she’s become accustomed to. And I just proved her insecurities right. Nothing good happens to her. Everyone in the end will always hurt her, no matter how good she is. It’s nothing that she has to tell me, I see it all over her face.

“Alex.” Ryder gently breaks through the thick emotion swelling in the room. “Please show McKenna out.”

“Of course.” Alex glances between McKenna and me, pity in her expression, then hurries to lead the way as McKenna follows.

I shove my hands into my pockets and shut my eyes, forcing myself not to move, staring out at Ryder’s command center. I’ve done enough already.

I’m not sure how long has passed when Ryder breaks the silence. “Fuck, Gabe, I’m terribly sorry,” he says. “Had I known you were going to talk to her, I would have told you not to.”

I rub my tired eyes, emptiness, anger, relief, and so much more roaring through me. “You didn’t do this, I did. I should have believed her, no matter what you told me. That will forever be on me.”

It’s not something I want to talk about further, and I’m only too happy when Alex reenters the room. “Okay.” She hurries back to her spot next to Ryder. “Now that we know who is behind this, how would you like me to proceed?”

She asked Ryder, but I respond, “Find out everything and anything you can on her brother.”