2. Ghosts of Heartache
Ghosts of Heartache
Ezekiel
I lean against the door, arms crossed, watching her. Eve’s eyes blaze with indignation, and I can’t help but feel that spark from before—back when I thought maybe this could be something real. But then I discovered she’s a cop.
She looks even better than I remember. Her anger transforms her beauty into a weapon.
And I love it.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” Her voice cuts through the air like a knife.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again.” The words slip out, laced with more bitterness than intended.
She scoffs, hands on her hips. “Yeah, no shit with the way you ghosted me.”
I force myself to hold her gaze. Her fury pulls at something deep inside me, and I wrestle with the guilt bubbling up to the surface. It’s my fault she feels that way.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” she continues, leaning forward as if trying to invade my space. “And then you have the nerve to lock us up like this. Who are you?”
I look down for a moment—a flash of regret breaking through my stony expression—but I quickly mask it. No point in digging up old wounds or rehashing what’s already been buried beneath layers of bad decisions and shadows from my past.
Eve’s breath quickens as if she’s trying to decipher my unreadable expression. My jaw tightens. That blank mask becomes an instinctual shield. This isn’t about me anymore. It’s about keeping her safe—even if that means keeping my mouth shut.
Her frustration morphs into confusion as I remain silent, waiting for the storm to pass while she tries to make sense of everything swirling between us.
“Why won’t you say something?” She pushes again, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
I meet her gaze again—a dark storm brewing within me—but don’t let anything escape my lips. I can feel her anger radiating, almost palpable, and it makes my heart race in a way that feels both thrilling and dangerous.
But I can’t afford to show weakness now, not when lives are on the line, and everything hangs by a thread around us.
I open the door and wave over Eli, my trusted business partner and occasional bodyguard.
“Eli, please take Olivia and her friend back to the bar,” I order, the words grating against my throat like sandpaper. Eli hesitates, glancing between Eve and me before stepping behind her friends and pushing them toward the door.
He doesn’t know what’s going on or that I have a history with Eve. All he knows is she’s a cop and cops in my club make us all nervous.
Once we’re alone, Eve narrows her eyes at me, every bit the fierce woman I remember. “You think you can keep me in here? Treat me like a problem?”
I can’t meet her gaze directly. Instead, I focus on the way her dark curls frame her face—wild and untamed like the fire in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Right. You just decided to vanish without a word.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “Use me and then toss me aside like trash. Real nice.”
I take a step closer, closing the distance that felt too far seconds ago. Her scent fills my nostrils, and I regret my decision. It’s just Eve. Her scent is natural, raw and alluring with a hint of vanilla. “It wasn’t like that.”
Her brow furrows in defiance. “Then explain it to me.”
“My life is complicated.” My voice cuts through hers as if slicing through fog.
“Everyone’s life is complicated,” she snaps back, folding her arms tighter across her chest. “Get in fucking line.”
I swallow hard but hold my ground. The truth is messy—so much darker than she realizes—but I can’t let that slip out. She can never know who I really am.
“Mine’s extra complicated,” I say, trying to soften my tone but still keeping it firm enough for her to understand there’s no arguing my point here. “This club has enemies. Your presence here puts you at risk.”
She scoffs again but leans closer as if intrigued despite herself, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the wall she built around herself.
“You don’t get it,” I continue, forcing myself to remain calm as my pulse pounds in my ears. “Nothing good ever comes from being with me.”
“So you vanished to spare me?” She raises an eyebrow, daring me to answer.
The weight of my silence hangs between us. She might not trust me now, but deep down? There’s still that connection we once had—a thread woven tightly even after all this time apart. And right now? It’s all I have left to protect us both from whatever dark fate looms ahead.
But my desire is a strong motherfucker. It’s making me weak.
Her defiance ignites something in me I thought was long buried, and against my will, my body betrays me.
The heat radiating off her makes it hard to think straight.
Every inch of me wakes up at the sight of her standing there, anger and vulnerability etched across her face like a map of all the things we could have been.
I feel it—the pull between us, magnetic and raw. It’s like a flame flickering to life, a fire I never wanted to fan again but I toss on another log anyway. I can’t help but want to reclaim what we once shared.
“Evelyn …” My voice barely escapes, thick with unspoken words.
She narrows her eyes, that familiar spark of mischief and challenge igniting within them. “What? You going to say you miss me? Spare me the bullshit.”
I swallow hard, every word weighing heavy on my tongue. “You don’t understand—”
“No,” she cuts in sharply. “You don’t understand. You left me hanging like I was nothing. And right after I told you about my ex. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to tell you those things?”
A flash of guilt hits me, hot and biting. Tension coils in my gut as she steps closer, pushing that invisible barrier between us until the air crackles with intensity.
Her proximity sends a rush through me—one that stirs the primal instinct to pull her against me, to shield her from everything dark and twisted in my world. I can’t let myself want this—not again. Not when my life is riddled with shadows that could swallow us whole.
Yet there she stands, confronting all the defenses I’ve constructed—my barriers disintegrating beneath the pressure of our history together.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she demands, but even as she says it, I can see it in her eyes—the same flicker of desire reflected back at me.
It’s infuriating and intoxicating all at once. The need to reach out—to claim what was once mine—gnaws at my insides like a hunger refusing to fade away.
“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to say, hoping she hears more than just words.
She laughs softly, but it’s laced with bitterness. “Spare me.”
My rebuttal hovers in the air between us—a confession yet unspoken. It stings because she’s right. She deserves better than what I’ve given her.
But damn it all to hell if my heart doesn’t betray every logical thought running through my mind when she stands there—eyes ablaze and wild curls framing her face like an untamed tempest.
That war within rages fiercely now. Each heartbeat drums a relentless rhythm against my chest while primal instincts claw for dominance over reason.
If she only knew what she did to me, she wouldn’t look at me with such fire and indignation.
I swallow hard, trying to push the heat rising within me back down. Her anger is a fire warming my blood, but I can’t let it consume me. Not here. Not now. Nor ever again.
Taking a deep breath, I ground myself, focusing on the coolness of the door behind me and the subtle hum of the club outside this private room. The bass from the music vibrates through my body—a reminder of what’s at stake.
“Eve,” I say, my voice low but firm, “you need to understand something.”
She narrows her eyes, still challenging me as if daring me to say something stupid. It’s a bold move on her part. She’s stepping into dangerous territory without even realizing it. I admire her spirit, but I can’t afford to get too close—to risk her life.
“You being in my club puts you in danger.” My words linger between us, dense and heavy, weighted with unspoken strain.
It’s the only truth I can give her.
Her brows knit together, and for a moment, I see past her anger—the flicker of hurt that echoes what we had before. I want to reach out and smooth away those lines of frustration on her face. But touching her could break everything I’ve built around myself.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she fires back, voice sharper than before. “And don’t act like you care.”
I flinch at that word—care—because it strikes a nerve deep inside me. This woman standing before me was someone I cared about once—someone I still care about—someone I thought about more than I’d ever let on.
“I do care,” I admit reluctantly, leaning forward as if closing the gap between us will somehow bring clarity to this mess. “But like I said, my life is complicated.”
Eve crosses her arms again as if warding off my confession while digging deeper into my mind—a tactical move I can’t help but respect. “Complicated? Or cowardly?”
I draw in another breath, trying to tame the wildfire raging inside me while balancing on this thin line between temptation and the need for distance. She deserves honesty. It’s only fair given how she got tossed aside without explanation.
But how do I explain what runs through my veins—the instincts honed by years spent surviving in shadows, working for the criminals she fights every single day. How do I explain my every instinct screams at me to protect her from threats looming just beyond these walls?
“This can’t happen between us. Not again,” I finally manage to say, forcing those words past clenched teeth.
Her gaze intensifies as if she’s searching for answers hidden beneath layers of regret and guilt in my eyes. It’s unnerving—and thrilling—seeing that determination flare up again after all this time apart.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me why.” She steps closer again. There’s no mistaking it now—the connection crackles between us like electricity waiting for release.
And God help me if I’m not tempted to give in.