RYDER STARED AT HER from across the room. He stopped dead in the kitchen and watched her leaning against the closed front door as if he’d just shot her and the impact launched her backwards. She sensed she was being examined under his silent, accusing glare, and Tara swallowed hard and steeled her resolve, as well as her spine.

Straightening up, she pushed herself off the door as she stepped forward.

“Wyatt’s staying at Ebony’s parents.”

His words were his way of letting her know she could talk. That was because he definitely intended to say something.

“Do you want to talk to me? Or do you plan to just send me packing without a word?”

“I don’t know yet, Tara Tamasy.” He sneered as he said her last name. “Tara Tamasy, five foot seven, a hundred and ten pounds, two charges of prostitution, three for theft. That, of course, doesn’t include whatever happened before you were eighteen. Drug possession. Loitering. Trespassing… Should I go on?”

Stony-faced, Tara stared at him and shook her head in the negative. “No. I admit every single thing. Every night I spent outside. Every hour I was cold or hungry or high or lonely. I was there, Ryder. What did you do? Run a background check on me?”

“Fuck, yeah. Found out my newest employee also lied on her employment application. As my employee I can look into you. Just goes that much faster when you’re a cop. Turns out, Chloe didn’t vet you, although she told me she did. I assumed… well, she obviously lied about that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his legs splayed wide, and his face looking mean and menacing. Still dressed in his uniform, he was like every other cop who ever intimidated or harassed her. His gun was still in place too.

“Take the gun off, please. You know I don’t like it. You know I can’t talk to you when you have it on, especially not when you’re like this.”

“Like what? Like asking for the simple truth? You know, those uncomplicated little things such as knowing what my girlfriend’s fucking last name is? The woman whom I entrusted the care of my young son? The lying criminal I allowed to live inside my house?”

Tara threw her hands up with outrage. “I’m not any different than I was. It’s a last name. Aderly is my mom’s maiden name. It isn’t even that nefarious, not like you’re making it sound. Please take the gun off, Ryder.”

He glared at her, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Fuck off, Tara. It’s not like I’m going to pull it on you. What? Is it too reminiscent of the other times you’ve been arrested?”

“Yes!” she yelled at him. “Yes, goddamn it! Okay? You want to know why I don’t like cops carrying guns? Fuck you, Ryder! Why do you think? It’s because some dirty, motherfucking cop held his piece to my head and forced me to suck his dick in the back seat of his squad car. That, or he’d have taken me in on a drug possession charge. Which would have put me away for years. And get this… the drugs weren’t even mine! He planted them. So fuck off! No, I won’t talk to you until you remove that… that thing on you!” she screeched as she waved at his waist.

Turning away, she took the stairs two at a time and hot tears filled her eyes. The utter humiliation she had endured by admitting it to him left her shaking, along with the adrenaline jolting through her body from yelling at him. When was the last time she yelled like that?

Only minutes later, Ryder followed her upstairs. She knew he would. He was that kind of man. Unlike hers, however, his steps were slow, methodical, and steady. He stood in the opening of the doorway. Tara sat on the chair in the master bedroom, her legs curled up to her chest as she stared out the window. Rubbing her eyes to stop the tears, she finally glanced his way. She gritted her teeth. The fucking uniform. She’d grown used to it by now, and then even appreciated it at times as she got to know him. And like him. And eventually love him. Sometimes, it even made her feel safe. This was not one of those times, though.

“What was the officer’s name?”

“Sanlot.” Tara remembered the name tag that was forever engraved in her brain.

“You were cited for prostitution by him.”

“Yes. Something he made me do. I guess you could make a case for that time. But that was much worse than all the other times.”

“It’s the crime of assault.”

She shrugged. “I hate to sound callous, but by then, I’d been living out on the streets for several years and it was just another event in my life. Perhaps worse than some, but did I find it shocking? No. I’m sorry to say. I saw a lot and experienced a lot. I wasn’t so sweet and innocent as I was when I first ran away. Everything I did shamed me at first. From the incessant dirt and grime to being hungry and eating trash and finding any kind of shelter, just to sleep. Jerome came to my aid and pretty much taught me how to survive. Yeah, I got used to it. Things were just what they were.”

Ryder walked in and stood there. Tara’s watery gaze narrowed in on him as she waited for his next move. He slowly put his hand on his sidearm and pulled the gun free of its holster. Her mouth went dry. She could no longer deny her unreasonable fear of guns. Even in Ryder’s hands. She knew he’d never use it against her; but so often, she imagined it pressed against her temple. She remembered being forced to put her lips around the sweaty, bulging penis of a man she longed to kill. He held the gun there the whole time and all Tara could think about was him pulling the trigger, either by accident or on purpose.

Ryder walked over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He squatted down and pulled out the lock box that he usually kept their sex toy in. This time, he set his gun inside it and closed it before securing it. He faced away from her for a long second before finally turning back towards her.

Tears were leaking from her eyes again. This time, however, it was not from being upset or angry, but because he did what she had asked him to do. She knew how much he hated her and mistrusted her. But he still did that for her. The decent thing. He straightened up and just stood there, looking at Tara with his hands on his hips and his elbows out.

“Tell me what happened.”

Tara started talking but her voice sounded hollow. “My family was shit. They didn’t care about me. I tried to commit suicide in a way by starving myself when I was seventeen. I couldn’t stand all the pressure of dancing any longer, or my mother. I was never skinny enough or tall enough or good enough. I passed out after not eating for three days. I was so proud at the time. I weighed ninety pounds. They had to hospitalize me. Not until I was literally near death and emaciated did they fucking realize I had a problem. My grandfather first noticed and hospitalized me. I wasn’t a boy though. He only cared about Tamasy sons. Tristan especially. Smart, hardworking, self-sufficient boys. Tristan was always okay. You know the type… Fuck,” she said, rolling her eyes. She’d never sworn so much around him. The memory of her previous life seemed to bring out something different in her. She was mentally back in a place where she was very different. Surviving, but never living.

“Like you, actually. Anyway, Grandfather took Tristan under his wing and invested all of his pressure and love, albeit without any affection, onto Tristan. That left me with my mother. After I came home from the hospital, you’d think my mom would have seen it as some kind of warning. But no. It wasn’t to her. Just more of the same. She was insane. I came home and she wanted me to keep training and dancing and performing. She acted like it wasn’t the reason I was hospitalized. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was messed up when I left home and I stayed that way.”

“You ran away.”

“Yup. Teenage runaway.”

“So… Why not just tell me that from the start?”

“For five years I’ve stayed away, and more than three of those were spent living on the streets. I started out by going south, then I worked my way north and eventually stayed in a tent, in rainy-ass Seattle. Because there were drugs. Lots of drugs. And sex. Useless and pointless. There was stealing and…”

“You prostituted yourself.”

“Yes.” She shut her eyes. That look. What she saw on his face was exactly what she hoped to avoid by lying. She never wanted anyone from her life now to know what she’d done in the past. No one could know about it. Not polite society. Nobody decent. But most especially, she didn’t want Ryder to know. At first, it was obvious: he was a cop. Then it was because she began to like him so much before she loved him too and couldn’t risk the chance of losing him.

“You really performed sexual acts for money?”

She swallowed and kept her face down. “Yes.”

“Like out on the streets? Giving guys blow jobs for a few bucks behind a building?”

“I—I didn’t do it a lot. Just when I got really desperate. I… no, we weren’t in any fancy hotels or anything. It was dirty street sex just like you’re picturing.”

He dropped his arms and ran his hands through his hair before he started to pace. He was shaking his head. “Did you happen to get yourself tested by any chance? Make sure you’re clean and not transmitting some nasty strain of venereal disease or any other STD?”

She flinched at his harsh tone. “Yes. Of course I did. I’m fine. I mean… I’m clean.”

He stopped shaking his head. She had no doubt that first thing tomorrow morning, he would see his doctor and get a complete physical. She bit her lip, feeling so much filthier than she ever had living on the street. “It was for food, Ryder. Not for fun or pleasure. You know how I am about sex. That’s what sex has always meant to me, a chore for fast cash. I certainly didn’t pursue it anymore than I had to.”

“Food, Tara? Really? Were you really doing it for food… or for drugs?”

She sighed, her heart sinking fast. His words and inflection made her sound so gross and disgusting. She flinched. None of her inner monologues about what she was and used to do ever made her feel this bad. “Both.”

He nodded.

She slouched forward. It was over. He was lost to her. This. Them. Whatever this might have gone on to be. She felt it deep in her gut. If she’d been honest with him from the start, he’d never have been interested in her. In the middle of whatever they were sharing, he’d have surely dumped her. He wasn’t in deep enough to look past this shit. Now? After being lied to, he couldn’t get past it. There was never a good time she could have told him. Inevitably, it would have ended their relationship, no matter what. So her heartbreak and the guilt she felt now were also inevitable.

“What made you stop?”

“I woke up after being mugged and losing all the money I had. I hadn’t bathed in weeks. I was filthy and disgusting and decided I finally had enough. I wanted more from life. I met only one friend during those entire five years. Jerome. I told you that he was shot. That really happened. He was just another runaway. A transgender who suffered much more than I could ever imagine. He was formerly Jenny, and as Jenny, he was raped and sodomized at school. Can you even imagine? Then he got kicked out from his home. We found each other on the streets and protected each other. He had my back and soon became my best friend. And then he was gone. After he died, there was no one left for me to live for. I briefly contemplated not living any longer. But then… I don’t know, I had this hunch I had to get off the streets now, or I would never be able to. Besides, after I lost Jerome, I wanted to get out.”

Silence followed her declaration. All of her secrets and scars and fears were revealed and exposed. The things she sweated over and often woke up from at night. She was reliving her sordid past, but she had never, ever felt the need to share it. She’d have taken that all to her grave. That’s how badly she wanted to banish it from her life. It was part of the past, and forever lost in the past, along with the girl she used to be.

Suddenly announced in a confident tone, something she was now sure was true. After listing out her history, she realized it wasn’t her true self anymore. “I am not that girl anymore. I am not that woman. I had to become the person I was destined to be. I don’t have to be the girl on the streets anymore and I’m not. I was only a girl then. A lost, stupid, unhealthy girl. I’m more mature now, a grown-up, healthy, adjusted, and eager-to-improve myself woman. I hoped… I still hope you can see the difference.”

“You had a rich family you could have gone back to. Tamasy Industries? They must be worth millions. But you had to fuck sleazy guys for pennies?”

“Sounds so easy to you, huh? Yes, they—my mother’s family—had millions and my grandfather and father saw plenty of successes and earned their clout with Tamasy Industries. None of that had anything to do with me. The way they treated me… no, I had no choice over what I did.” She stiffened her back.

“You’re expecting me to believe you didn’t blow that cop to avoid being charged with something worse?”

“Don’t you get it? I didn’t do anything. He made them up. He had me on prostitution and that’s it. Nothing really. No jail time. It hurt me, and no one else. But he decided I should be punished by blowing him. I refused.” She shuddered. “But I was homeless, dirty, and poor. What could I do against a big, bad cop like him? He drew his gun and set it right here.” She touched the right side of her head, pointing dead-center at her temple. “He pressed the cold, hard barrel right into my skin. Actually, he pushed on it. He wasn’t content to leave it there. I’ll never forget what it felt like. Then he pushed me off the seat and down on my knees in front of him. He stared at me, and I could see all the glee in his eyes along with his filthy smirk. He was challenging me. I tried to close my eyes but he pressed the gun harder and insisted that I watch. Slowly, using only one hand, he undid his trousers and pulled himself free. He took his other hand, the one holding the gun, and shoved it at the back of my head. What else could I do? I did it.”

Ryder’s expression paled with disgust and repulsion. He could hardly acknowledge that things like that actually went on. Tara understood. The upstanding Ryder Kincaid and probably most of the staff with whom he worked would never think of such nefarious goings on. Tara realized it wasn’t all cops. But maybe Ryder didn’t realize that some were.

“Why do you think I hated you at first? Because of your stupid uniform. I just didn’t want to look at you because it reminded me of that moment. And your gun… Do you remember how I was?”

Ryder’s mouth was tight. “This is the most I’ve heard from you about anything.”

“Yes. I keep things inside. That’s because I hate most of my life. I still have no desire to talk about it. It totally sucked until I came here. It hasn’t been just you… but the café, Mrs. Huskin giving me a chance and a place to live. Chloe, Petra, Chet and Dok… all of them have helped me change and grow. I found an entirely new, real and most of all, a decent life in this small town that has irrevocably changed me. I never knew I could feel like this. This happy. Or alive. Or so much at peace.”

He stared at her long and hard. Tara sighed and got to her feet. “It wasn’t a lie. Not who I’ve been since I’ve been here and especially, not with you. I guess I can’t make you forgive me or understand. I actually thought you might though.”

“I poured my heart out to you and told you all about my murdered wife. You didn’t think then to be honest with me?”

“She was the reason why I wasn’t honest at first.”

“How do you fucking figure that?” He grew agitated and yelled at her. Then he started pacing.

“Because you said she left you and her family without a word, and was never heard from again. Don’t you remember what you said? The same thing I did to my family. I didn’t want to lose you for acting like Ebony.”

“And when you found out she’d done no such thing, you realized… what? You were so much worse than her now?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Tara shook her head. “I think… I think I’m done apologizing to you…or anyone else. I fucking lied because I had no choice. No decent person can understand or look past drug and prostitution charges. I know that. You know that. So I lied. I fudged it. Honestly? Doesn’t seem that shocking to me. Not after the life I led. But you know what I also realized, Ryder?” Tara stood up and pinned her shoulders back. “I realized that I’m still a decent person. I acted out of desperation and tragic circumstances. I’m not asking for your permission or your forgiveness. I only told you because you have the right to know. But my brother came back for me. I have a job. And I intend to stay here. If you choose to fire me, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to beg you for what you want to withhold from me. Forgiveness. The crazy part is, after watching you with Wyatt, I learned how to forgive myself. That’s what I needed most of all. I don’t need yours… although I would like it.”

She got to her feet and walked out of the bedroom without looking at him again. Not for permission. Not for forgiveness. Not for a shared hope of what was in store for them. She sucked in a breath and shut off her tears. No more. After spending her life hating herself and her circumstances, she’d found peace. She no longer hated her surroundings and the person she was here in town. She intended to keep building on that, with or without Ryder Kincaid. She knew that after her indignant anger wore off, losing Ryder would rip her heart into shreds. But she’d still stay rooted and deal with it, always moving forward.

She pulled out her phone and texted her brother for a ride. A small smile appeared on her lips. She’d never done that before. Her crusty, sad, quiet heart suddenly felt brighter, bigger, and fuller. She was ready for a life that was very different from the one she just finished describing. She wasn’t a victim. Not anymore. Nor was she a criminal or an offender of anything. Not now. She set her shoulders squarely back. And now that she was once more Tara Tamasy, her first mission would be learning how to drive and getting a damn license. She refused to rely on anyone for the things she could damn well learn to do for herself.

Tristan pulled up twenty minutes later. Sitting on the front steps, she glanced back at the house, and a kind of sadness descended over her. But she smiled dry-eyed at her brother. Kylie wasn’t with him.

“I take it things didn’t go well.”

“Things went like I thought they would if he ever found out.” She shrugged and touched Tristan’s arm. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. But I’m glad you found me and came here. I mean it, Tristan. And I’d like to tell you exactly what I told him and then… we’ll never talk about it again.”

Tristan listened quietly as she told him what happened to her. When she told him the part about the cop who forced her to give him a blow job, he pulled off to the side of the road, and his hands were shaking with rage. “Tell me his name. We’ll fucking ruin him. I mean it, Tara. No one can get away with doing that to you.”

She sighed. “Tristan, it’s nothing. He probably won’t even remember it. Things like that… if you’d been there, you’d just accept it because it’s out there. Sexual assault, sexual favors, drug deals, all of it tends to blur the line between right and wrong. I can’t tell you. But thank you for not being repulsed by me.”

“Repulsed? You’re my sister. I know why you were out there to begin with. My girlfriend was raped by my brother. Do you think I’d ever blame her or think it was her fault?”

She let out a long breath. “Kind of amazing that you managed to get past it. Tell me. About it. About her. About her family. Tell me about this wonderful family who has welcomed you in. It sounds… unbelievable.”

Tristan started talking and Tara listened, lifting her heart as she heard about the life he and Kylie shared in California, the things they’d endured and how far they’d evolved by being together. It gave her hope. Somewhere, someday, she’d find a good, decent, upstanding man, who could make her heart ache with love and her body strum with want. She’d find him. She knew she would. And she’d find love. Real love. True love. She’d never settle for anything less. She’d never compromise by taking a dysfunctional asshole who didn’t treat her right. No. She’d learned the price. She’d break the cycle. She was better than that. She even thought she might have already experienced that type of love.

Tristan tried to make her stay with him and Kylie, but she declined. Going home, to her place, the private spot she created in this big, dark world, was a gift to herself. With or without Ryder, she managed to carve out a life there.

The next day, she saw her brother and his girlfriend. She showed them the Bridge of the Gods and the wind surfers and the dam with its fish ladders and Beacon Rock, and all the sights she now adored and the places she referred to as her home.

The next day, Tara returned to work, prepared for whatever lay in store for her.

She instantly came face to face with Chloe. She was back.

****

Ryder finished writing up a ticket for the kid who was caught in possession of a stolen firearm. He sighed, flipping the notebook shut after entering all the information into the laptop mounted on his dashboard. He sighed, rubbing his neck. The muscles felt tight and kinky and painful.

He glanced down and his gun caught his eye. He was always respectful and aware of his gun. Safety was the first priority. But he never stared at it as a weapon like he did now. Almost as if the sight of it disgusted him. But that’s what it did as he pictured it being pressed against Tara’s head. Her kneeling on the ground, vulnerable, forced to lean over… Ryder shut his eyes at the visual and tried to ignore it.

Shaken and confused, he felt unsure of what to do next. He opened his eyes and smacked his fist against the steering wheel. She was contrite, upset, and yet oddly strong yesterday. Her voice was louder and surer and cockier than he’d ever heard from Tara. The timid, scared woman who was unable to even look at him was gone. In her place was a new Tara. A sure Tara. A confident Tara who had no problem speaking up for herself.

Having a home, food, and clothes would no doubt help shore up one’s confidence. The signs were all there, weren’t they? She admitted being from a rich family that she no longer stayed in contact with. He realized she’d been recently poor by her clothes, her shoes, and even her hair. She frequently asked him not to ask about her history. So she hadn’t really lied. Other than not telling him her real name, she never lied.

He felt he knew her, right down to the core. Well enough that she was open to him and honest. Any facts he didn’t know about were secondary to her integrity and the kind of person he knew her to be. The most important thing he realized about Tara, and felt sure enough about, even after knowing her for only nine months, was that he was willing to marry her.

He was that crazy in love with her and every single thing about her. Until this. It made him feel dirty after Ebony’s remains were found.

Doubts festered in him and he didn’t know what to do.

Then he glanced up. He saw the man he recognized as Tristan Tamasy walking towards his parked truck. He was on the short main street in downtown, and wasn’t that hard to spot.

He sighed, rolling down his window.

“Can I talk to you about Tara?” Tristan said.

“Fine. Coffee?” Ryder’s head jerked towards the small coffee shop on the corner. Once they were settled with drinks at the small table, Ryder looked Tristan up and down.

Ryder grunted. “You and Tara look a lot alike.”

Tristan’s mouth quirked upwards. “We do.” He shifted forward, leaning his elbows on the table. “Look, she’s been on her own since she was seventeen. If you knew what my parents were like... well, I suppose you could imagine just knowing they raised our youngest brother to become a rapist. They didn’t raise me, my grandfather did, and nobody raised Tara. She was a lost, little girl long before she ran away. I’m not sure why it angers you about learning what she had to do to survive. How well would anyone do all alone? Lacking resources and living on the streets and adding her youth and beauty and vulnerability doesn’t really begin to describe it, does it? She did what she had to do in order to survive.”

“Why didn’t you help her? You had several years on her. Where were you when you saw her so lost and alone?”

Tristan shook his head and his mouth compressed into a tight line. “I don’t… know. I keep looking back and wondering where I was. Why didn’t I care? Why didn’t I help her? I left for college, so glad to escape that ice castle we called our home. Grandfather always took an interest in me. When I had holidays or vacation, and even whole summers, I spent them with Grandfather. I interned and eventually worked with him at our family company. I only saw my father when he occasionally showed up at work. My mother? I never cared if I saw her. A few holidays a year were more than enough. Tommy was off and on, and Tara? I saw her the least. Our mother kept her crazy busy with dance. I knew she got into some trouble, but I was so caught up with trying to live up to my grandfather’s expectations that I didn’t give her the time, attention, or protection she needed.”

Ryder listened, imagining the grim picture both Tara and Tristan described of their childhood. Both perspectives rang alarmingly true. “You said your brother is a rapist?”

Tristan sighed, leaning back, his legs outstretched, and crossed his arms over his chest. “He drugged and raped at least two women that I know of. Both were college freshman. One of them is my girlfriend.”

Ryder froze. “Your girlfriend? The woman who came here with you?”

Tristan’s gaze focused on him, and his mouth became a thin line. “Yeah. The one who could look past my monstrous family and give me a chance. I was commissioned to come after her and discredit her. We thought she was making up the rape just to cause trouble for Tommy. Then I met her and I knew there was nothing like that going on.” He sighed and sipped the coffee. “She met me as Tristan Aderly. For months, I dated her under that alias. She couldn’t know my real name because I shared it with her rapist. I failed to understand that until long after I’d fallen in love with her. Then, I didn’t know what to do or how to tell her. I’ve never loved anyone before, not like that. Not for real. Not like always putting myself first and any kind of selfish need I had. The way I was raised. But she was nothing like anyone I knew. And I was in so deep, I didn’t know how to undo it without losing her. And losing her was worse than living with the guilt of lying.”

Ryder held his gaze. Tristan didn’t flinch. He didn’t need the comparison spelled out, he got it. “Like Tara Aderly. Family trait, huh? Lying. Taking advantage. Covering up. Even the same cover story?”

“You heard what she went through, right? Do you think she was lying about that?”

Ryder recalled all the fear and blatant avoidance of eye contact with him and his gun that she had first displayed. “No. I think she told the truth now.”

“You’re a cop. I wouldn’t come near you if I were her. Doesn’t that say something? Look, I didn’t know she was homeless, on drugs, or desperate enough to sell herself on the streets. I also didn’t know she was held at gunpoint and sexually assaulted by a fucking cop. I feel guilty for what happened to her. I own a slice of it and I won’t forget that. So what if she had to lie about that? Tell me, would you have hired her with that kind of history? So she fudged an employment application, all because she had no real address for five years. She had an arrest record and she didn’t want anyone decent to know about it. Do you blame her? Aside from your hurt feelings. She wasn’t hiding violent crimes from you but something she felt most normal people couldn’t accept or look past. And now you’re proving she was exactly right.”

Ryder’s jaw locked and he scowled at Tristan, who continued, “Let me ask you something. Before you knew her, if you’d known all of this, what would your reaction be? Would you consider her a possible woman to date? A potential employee? Would you even want to be friends with her? I highly doubt it. She was trying desperately to change. And she did, from all I’ve observed. I had no idea who or what I would find. A drug addict? Alcoholic? A loser living in disgusting circumstances? Honestly? That’s what I thought we’d find. Not her. She’s trying to move past it all and advance forward and live differently. You seemed to be included in that. Don’t send her back to it or punish her because the first person she tries to be honest with can’t handle it or forgive her or move past it. She was a stupid, lost kid, without anyone to care for her. She survived and is still a nice, sweet, shy woman; she’s the Tara I used to know and that’s the biggest shock. Who wouldn’t have concealed things that were revolting about their past? She despised her history and therefore, she was afraid decent people would find her despicable. Now, Ryder, I think you fucking well know by now that she’s about as decent as women come.”

Ryder nodded but it took awhile. “How did your girlfriend manage to get over what your brother did? And what you went after her to do?”

“I honestly don’t know. She thought she knew me. The real me. At the time, I don’t think I fully was or envisioned the person she saw, but now I strive to be that person every day. If I could undo the reason why I met her, I would. But I wouldn’t undo meeting her. I think Tara would claim the same towards you.”

Ryder nodded, suddenly lost in thought. All of it came as such a shock. But her lying stuck with him. He spent three years erroneously hating a woman whom he thought lied to and left him. He thought she was cruelly playing games and hurting him with it. He just didn’t want to live that way anymore. He wanted honesty twenty-four/seven and to trust that someone’s word really did mean their word.

But Tristan pointed out some relevant facts. Tara had been just a kid. And he wouldn’t have let Chloe hire her if he’d known or even caught a whiff of her past. He’d never have allowed her around Wyatt either, much less start dating her. So Tara was right. Ryder would have judged her and never gotten past it.

Maybe she hadn’t had a choice.

He pushed his coffee away. “I investigated the cop who assaulted her.”

Tristan’s gaze sharpened on him and his mouth was grim. “Funny, that was next on my list.”

“He was fired two years ago.”

Tristan’s eyebrows rose with obvious interest. “So then you believe her at least?”

“I believe her. She had an uncanny fear of my gun and even me when I first met her.”

“Sympathy to her plight alone didn’t stimulate the urge to comfort her? I would think you’d do that instead of kicking her out.”

Ryder shuffled his ass around, growing uncomfortable at Tristan’s sarcasm. “I didn’t kick her out. She chose to leave and call you.”

“This is the first time in years when she’s even had that option. You assume she chose to run away, but in many ways, she had to leave in order to save her life. She wasn’t strong enough back then to stop my mother’s deplorable behavior; and my mother nearly killed her. If not literally, she killed her spirit by all the pressure she insisted on putting her under. Tara almost died of anorexia. She ran away because she knew she’d end up dying young. So hate me. Detest me. I could and should have gotten her out of there when she left the hospital. But I didn’t. So she had to take herself out of there. Can you understand how alone she’s been? How necessary she must have found it to lie? When I lied about my name, I was doing it to deliberately hurt someone. When she did it, she was simply trying to protect and save herself. She wanted to start over. She wanted to start fresh.”

He held Tristan’s gaze. Tristan scowled back at him hard and long. Ryder eventually rose to his feet and dropped the napkin in his hand on the table.

Tristan looked up at him. “Where are you going now?”

“I have to talk to Tara.”

Tristan followed him. “If you hurt her, I swear to God…”

Ryder whipped around and glared at Tristan, his hands resting on his hips, right above his gun. “What, Tristan? What are you going to do? Are you planning to arrest me?”

Tristan shot daggers at him with his angry eyes but he closed his mouth and fell silent. Ryder drove to the café, finally feeling ready to confront Tara with the whole truth.