Chapter 19 Delaney
DELANEY
I’m proud of the woman I am today because I walked through fire to get to her.
A few little sparks aren’t going to stop me now.
—Delaney’s Secret Thoughts
The bell over the door chimes, and Tori and I both look, dazed.
I’ve spent my day stuck in a daydream, replaying every beat of last night over in my head. Overanalyzing every move made. Every word said. Every feeling evoked.
It’s heaven and hell.
Because this relationship with Ryker is supposed to serve a purpose.
It’s not supposed to be more. I’m not supposed to be more.
I’m not from his world, and yet . . . He makes me feel like I belong wherever he is.
And I don’t know when that happened or even how it happened.
But most importantly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.
One of the rules I’ve carved my life around has been to never let anyone in enough to hurt you. And I’ve broken that rule. I haven’t just let this man in my head. I’ve let him in my heart, and I’m not sure what to do now.
The man who walks through the door pulls me from that momentary daydream dressed up like a nightmare. The thought . . . not the man. He’s dressed fine. Dark suit. Short hair. Gun on his hip. Detective Brooks looks like every other detective I’ve met in my life. Which is unfortunately, quite a few.
He doesn’t smile. Don’t flinch. Just sweeps his eyes around the shop. Clocking the exits, the lack of other customers. Tori. Me.
“Detective Brooks,” I greet him, attempting to act like he doesn’t set me on edge. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Can I help you pick something out for someone special?”
“Ms. Rousseau. I was hoping we could talk.”
My fingers tighten around the stems I’m holding. The thorns bite into my skin until a single drop of blood hits the counter.
“I’m working, detective. I’m sure if you call Olivia St. James, she could set up a time for us to meet again.”
His gaze swings around the shop, and a chill skirts down my spine.
Genevieve is delivering the rehearsal dinner flowers to the vineyard.
And I’m suddenly aware of just how alone we are.
“Doesn’t look like I’m interrupting much. I don’t see anyone knocking down the door.”
“It’s the end of the day,” I murmur defensively.
“We’re closing soon.” My eyes move to the shearing scissors on the edge of the counter, already plotting my defense if this man tries anything.
Some things are so ingrained in you, they never go away.
Running away might not be an option, but there’s a door leading to the parking lot through the back of the shop.
And my cell phone is in my back pocket. My guard is up, and I’m not even a little bit ashamed to admit it.
Nothing about this feels right.
“I’d like to go over your statement again, Ms. Rousseau.” He shifts his weight and rests his hand on his gun.
“Why?” I ask, knowing not a word of what I said has changed.
“Because the man you identified as your attacker is dead, Delaney.”
I force my face to stay calm while I fall apart inside. “I heard.”
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t sound so cold.
I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do.
What would Olivia say?
“Did you?” he pushes. Waiting. For what, though? A crack in the story? A mistake? “Walk me through that night.”
“I already told you—”
“Walk me through it again.” His voice is sharp and honestly, fucking frightening.
It doesn’t rise, but it doesn’t leave room for argument either.
“I have to leave, detective. I’m going to be late to my own rehearsal dinner. If you’d like to discuss this further, I’d be happy to come to the station with my attorney.” There. That’s what Liv would want me to do.
“You go ahead and do that then, Ms. Rousseau.” He slides a business card across the counter, like I don’t know how to get hold of him if I want to.
“Why are you doing this? I’m the victim. Ryker saved my life. Why are you here?” I ask before I think better of it.
“It’s all a little too convenient, if you ask me.” He flips the toothpick in his mouth, smiling. “But that’s the funny thing about self-defense. It’s harder to disprove when the other guy can’t tell his side of the story.”
“There was no side, detective,” I spit like venom is falling from my lips.
“He attacked me. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.
I didn’t allow it. I said no. So he tried to choke me to death so he could rape me.
He was a bad man, detective. The worst kind of bad man.
The kind who thought the law didn’t apply to him. ”
“According to you,” Brooks counters, slowly, and I see red.
I slap my hand against the counter, ignoring the way Tori jumps. “He. Attacked. Me. Pull the cameras from West End’s parking lot. Do your goddamned job. It will all be on film. The worst night of my life is there for you to see. And it will back up everything I told you.”
The fucker doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” He watches a little too closely. “I’m saying it’s my job to make sure the truth comes out. And I don’t know whether we’ve found that yet.”
“Watch the tapes,” I demand, a tear falling from the corner of my eye. “Watch the way he beat me.” I keep my head up and shoulders back. I will not cower. “Watch them. Do your job. Ryker didn’t do anything but defend me. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Brooks takes the toothpick from his mouth and flicks it to the trash can beside me. “Powerful men never think they’re wrong, Delaney.”
“That’s not Ryker,” I bite back, fury rising.
“Yeah . . . it never is. Be careful, Ms. Rousseau.” He tips his head. “Have fun at your wedding.”
I sink against the counter as Detective Brooks leaves and grab my phone, swiping for the saved number. It only rings once. “Hello.”
“Olivia . . . I think we have a problem.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m pacing the locked shop with Olivia staring at Tori. “Seriously, why do you have a pig?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I ask her, exasperated. “Olivia. Focus. I think Brooks is going after Ryker.”
“I am serious. That pig looks hungry, like she thinks I might be a tasty snack.” In a mid-calf-length skirt suit and four-inch heels, Ryker’s cousin slides her ass up onto Love in Bloom’s counter, like she’s afraid of my thirty-pound potbellied pig.
I wonder what she’ll think once Tori’s full-grown?
“She’s not going to eat you. Now fucking focus and tell me what I’m supposed to do to keep Ryker safe.
Because I think Brooks has it out for him.
I have no idea why he would, but I’m telling you everything about him felt off.
I trust my gut, and my gut says he’s not a good guy.
” I’m practically pleading for her to listen to me, already coming up with a plan B in my head because if she’s not going to do something, I will.
“I’ll have someone look into Brooks, but I’m going to need you to take a breath.
The plan is working. You and Ryker have been trending for two weeks.
Everyone’s talking about your wedding. Your love story.
They want to know it all. And they’re all on your side.
According to the court of public opinion, Ryker Beneventi is a modern-day prince charming protecting his princess.
Protecting his wife. And my guy inside the prosecutor’s office already told me he’d be surprised if charges were filed.
” She squeaks when Tori charges toward the counter and chuffs.
Guess she didn’t like Olivia raising her voice.
“Oh my God. Make it go away.” Liv squirms, and I laugh.
“She’s not going to hurt you, you big baby.”
“Did you just call me a big baby?” she asks with wide eyes. “You really are part of the family. You said fuck earlier too. We’ve officially corrupted you.”
“Save him first. Corrupt me later, Liv.” I glance at the clock and sigh. I have to go get ready for the rehearsal dinner.
“Okay. Let me do a little digging before you tell Ryker about today, okay? I don’t want him to worry if he doesn’t have to.” She stares down at Tori, probably deciding if she’s willing to hop down and risk being eaten by a thirty-pound pig.
“No,” I tell her and click Tori’s leash on her collar, giving Olivia room to move.
“I’m telling him when I see him. I can’t keep this from him.
I won’t. I’m a lot of things, Liv. But I’m not a liar.
And before you say it, a lie of omission is still a lie.
Do your thing and do it fast. But know I’m telling Ryker as soon as I see him. ”
She hops off the counter and grabs her purse, her eyes finding mine, something that looks an awful lot like respect shining back at me.
“I like you, Delaney. You’re a breath of fresh air.
Don’t change. And don’t let our fucked up family scare you tonight.
I’ll let you and Ryker know what I find out as soon as I get anything. ”
“Thank you,” I tell her, grabbing my keys and walking her to the door. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I lock up behind her and look down at Tori. “What do you think, Notorious? You ready to practice being a flower girl?”
The vineyard looks . . . ethereal. Like someone took the version we saw that first night and made it . . . more. Lights strung between the vines. Lanterns glow along the gravel path. Long tables dressed in soft linens and overflowing with wildflowers of every color. It’s incredible.
“Holy shit,” Kaleigh sighs next to me as she drops her purse at the table.
“Language. Don’t curse in front of the aunts,” Lexie murmurs, and I stifle a laugh.
I have no idea who she’s even talking about since there’re so many aunts here.
I thought a rehearsal dinner was small. But I guess, considering the wedding guest list ended up coming in close to three hundred people, this is small.
“Sorry,” Kaleigh grumbles. “Holy cow.”
“Or holy pig.” Dillan smiles. “Where’s our flower girl?”
I point to where Ryker’s niece, Rosie, is running in circles with Tori. “She’ll look prettier tomorrow.”