Chapter 13
13
BIJOU
I can’t sleep.
It’s no use.
I shift around in the passenger seat, frustrated. I don’t know how much time has passed, but the minutes feel interminable. How a body could get comfortable with their arm shackled to a headrest, I’ll never know.
Rutger’s made it clear he doesn’t care about me. This callousness is something new for him, and I can’t stand it.
I sigh in exasperation, greeted by silence. He isn’t sleeping, but piercing the noiseless gulf between us feels impossible. Nevertheless, I try again.
“Do you think P Boy is still following us?”
To my amazement, the Ranger shrugs. Removing his cowboy hat, he takes me in for one long, breathless moment. The rain has given way to the moon, and in its ethereal light, his indigo eyes devour me, unapologetically traveling over every inch of my body and face.
A pain pulses behind his gaze. It corresponds to the persistent tug behind the left-hand side of my ribs.
After an excruciating hesitation that feels like the whole world’s holding its breath, I bring my palm to his rough cheek, tenderly drinking him in with my eyes. He stiffens, ready to pull back, but doesn’t. Tension hangs palpable.
Tears spring into my eyes, and my cheeks burn, acknowledging my lack of self-control. I love rarely and never this deeply. So, when such emotions seize me, they stick, outrunning small concessions like time, logic, and rejection.
I expect him to move away from me at any moment. Instead, his eyes narrow, fixating on me. His head wanders closer to mine as he whispers, “You’ve done too much crying tonight, kitten. Tell me what’s wrong now.”
“I don’t know,” I reply, straining against another sob. I can’t describe the tangle of feelings twisting and curling inside me: fear, anxiety, longing, pain, sorrow.
All I know is his gorgeous face remains the most welcome sight I’ve seen in years. I strain to memorize every part of it, already slipping beneath the grief of our inevitable parting. I feel like a woman drawn into a riptide, depths swirling over my head, dragged against my will and better judgment straight to the bottom.
Stroking the rough afternoon stubble on his cheek, I savor the scratchy sound—the epitome of masculinity. If I could hold Rutger here with me forever, I would. Make our past and future melt away in the singular bliss of this moment.
My voice cracks. “How have I lived these past five years without you?”
His expression softens. Until he abruptly pulls away, turning from me and rubbing his hands over his face.
I can’t help myself. I have to know. “Did you ever think of me?”
“Five years,” he says, his voice caustic, as he avoids my gaze. “You had five years to reach out to me if you missed me so much.”
“And you had the same amount of time.”
“I didn’t leave you at the altar.” The words are dark and raw.
Silence gains another foothold. But I can’t let it. Time is slipping through my fingers with so much left unspoken. “I tried a couple of times to sort out where you were. Working as a private military contractor in the Middle East was as far as I got… And your Facebook page made it very clear you’d moved on… multiple times.”
I try to keep the images of him with so many different women from crowding my head. He was never the partying or playboy type when we were together. But time changes people. So does heartache.
To my surprise, his eyes glimmer with emotion. “Moved on…” He shakes his head, giving me momentary hope. But then he lashes out, “I knew you were a Nashville singer the whole time. I knew right where to find you. But what would that have changed? You’ve always made it clear you’re a Lefevre before everything else. And I could never forgive you for how you left things between us.”
He doesn’t get it. I shake my head. “No, I made it clear it was never a choice. I was born into it, groomed to be one of the family from the cradle up. It was inescapable. As inescapable as the way I had to leave things with you…”
“Excuse me for mistakenly assuming you had a new family and new allegiances as my fiancée… and some fucking free will. Last time I checked, we live in a free country.”
He’ll never get it. How a family like mine can weigh you down, define you, and carve your entire life’s path. Even when everything in you yearns to break away.
My hand slides to his neck as he pulls his head back. Yet, he doesn’t leave my embrace altogether.
I ask myself the same question on my mind all night. Does he feel what I’m feeling? As if half a decade of distance has done nothing to dampen the firestorm raging between us…
“I always knew I couldn’t escape my family ties. I’m sorry. But I’ve still spent the last five years trying.” Turning away from him towards the black window to my right, where a thin sheen of foggy moisture clings, I say sadly, “If tonight proves anything, it’s that I was right all along. They’ll never leave me alone.”
Clearing his throat, he challenges, “You didn’t make much effort to get away. Nashville isn’t that far from the old Lefevre stomping grounds. And you didn’t even change your name.” I turn back towards Rutger, finding a new frown on his angular face. He looks equal parts devastatingly handsome and grim.
“I wanted you to be able to find me. If you ever wanted to…” This is the first time I’ve admitted this, even to myself. I love him with a fierceness that defies logic, best intentions, everything. And part of love is longing to be with your other half, no matter the consequences.
Raul’s threats echo through my head. Threats to harm me, to hunt down and kill Rutger. Yet, despite so much risk, a secret part of me always longed to see the cowboy again. To find a way… against all odds, to be together.
Rutger’s stoic silence stings me. My heart breaks beneath his indifferent gaze.
I have to change the subject. “Nashville was far enough away. At least until last night. Besides, where should I have gone? I didn’t have the luxury of traveling overseas like you. And cutting ties with the Lefevres came with immense collateral damage. Like the loss of my resources, connections, and inheritance—apart from the Blue Moon.”
His face is fierce, and his jaw muscles jump as he argues, “As my wife, you could’ve gone anywhere I went. You know that. As for the diamond, keeping it is a dangerous gamble, kitten. If you really want to leave your family ties behind, let the diamond go.”
“No, my mother entrusted it to me and my grandmother before her. No one else can claim it… especially not Raul .”
“Do you honestly believe that bullshit?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
He glares at me.
“I know it sounds like hocus-pocus to you. But that curse is as real as you and me sitting here… for any man who tries to claim it. My family has lived with the repercussions of this for generations. I know better than anyone. But I don’t expect you to understand.”
Rutger shakes his head.
“Or believe me.”
“And I don’t,” he replies without hesitation.
“Good.”
“Good.”
He clears his throat, “I’m glad we’ve found something to agree on.”
“Well, that and smoking out my brother. And using me as bait. We agree on all of that. Don’t we?”
His eyes narrow. “That wasn’t my original plan?—”
I interrupt, “And taking revenge on my brother.”
He laughs bitterly. “I’m still not convinced your Lefevre loyalties have gone as lukewarm as you claim.”
“Raul quit being my brother a long time ago.”
“How did he do that?” Skepticism colors his question.
“You said it yourself. He fucked up my life, and he fucked up yours.”
Rutger’s lips draw a thin, firm line as he leans closer to me until I feel his warm breath on my cheeks.
His hand comes up, tracing the diamond necklace where it falls on my décolletage, his fingertips lingering on my flesh. His touch holds a question that makes my pulse pound and puts a thick lump in my throat. Running his fingers through my hair, he urges in low, deep tones, “Tell me how he fucked up your life, Bijou.”
“By making it impossible for me to be with you.”
His expression darkens. “How did he do that?” The sentence sits somewhere between a sigh and a growl.
If I tell him, Rutger will fall into Raul’s trap. I know this. And yet, if I don’t explain what happened, I’ll never forgive myself. Or get another chance. The dilemma is excruciating. My hand comes up, stroking his cheek again. I need to feel his flesh one more time.
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to retaliate.”
He swallows loudly. “I can’t promise that.”
“Then, I can’t tell you.”
His eyes penetrate me, digging soul-deep.
“But please know that if it had been in my control, I would have never left you at the altar. Ever. I wanted to marry you more than anything.” I can’t fight the sob that punctuates the end of my statement.
Disbelief and confusion swirl in his eyes, even as his expression hardens.
I continue, “Reconnecting wasn’t an option. I knew the further you got away from me and my cursed family, the safer you’d be.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make,” he growls, his eyes settling on my lips.
“All I could think about was keeping you safe—at all costs.”
“I don’t need protecting.” He grimaces, drawing closer.
Stroking his muscular neck and shoulder, I whisper, “No, you don’t need my protection. Do you?”
“But I do need to know what happened. The day you stood me up. Missed our wedding. I deserve an explanation.”
I try to close the distance between us, my eyes focused on his lips. But he draws back slightly. My heart sinks. It’s excruciating being this close to him and yet so far away.
He says in a gravelly voice, “We’ve got time, so you might as well fess up. Maybe we’ll get your story finished before I take your brother’s ass into custody. Then, you can return to that selfless life you’ve been leading, protecting me by having nothing to do with me.” He crosses his arms over his chest.