Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Harper paid the cabbie and glanced up at her door. How in the hell was she going to act like nothing was wrong, knowing that Ryker could be watching? That was if he was even bothering to still watch. A mix of emotions rolled through her as she shoved her key in the door’s lock and walked inside.
The smell of roses and chocolate drifted to her nose. Any other night, any other place, and she would have been happy. Instead, she leaned against the door and shoved the card into her pocket. The butterflies in her stomach danced, but she didn’t know if it was in dread or delight.
“Harper?” Ryker called out, stepping into the foyer.
He’d changed since that morning, his shorts replaced with jeans.
His shirt was now a deep blue, making the color of his eyes sparkle.
He didn’t make a move as the heat of his gaze slowly traveled down her body and back up. A look of uncertainty crossed his face.
“What are you doing here? Watching me from the cameras wasn’t good enough?” she asked around the lump in her throat, unsure whom to trust.
“Your aunt and your sisters gave me the file. There was no way you would have known Grant was a fraud when he was talking to you.”
Are you? The question crossed her mind and almost slipped from her lips.
Ryker’s steps were slow and measured as he closed the distance between them. He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She leaned into his palm and, for a brief second, let her eyes slip closed, not at all sure she should trust him.
Her body reacted to him. Her brain recognized him.
Her heart was starting to. What if everything she wanted to believe was wrong?
Harper opened her eyes and met his gaze.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she gathered her resolve. “You were right. We can’t do this.”
His gaze searched hers as if looking for truth in her words. He didn’t understand, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to make him without telling him about Grant’s visit.
“What happened?”
She shook her head and stepped around him into the living room.
Three dozen roses sat on the kitchen island, along with an assortment of various chocolate desserts.
She picked up a brownie, broke it in half, and held it up to his mouth.
She’d eat the other half only if he took a bite, unsure if Grant or he was really the one who wanted her dead.
Ryker bit into it and held her gaze. He knew. She could see it in his eyes, read it in his body. She waited for him to swallow before she took a single bite and put the brownie down. If she were going to die, it would be death by chocolate. There were worse ways to go.
“Why do you think Grant killed your sister-in-law?”
Ryker took an unconscious step back, and his features hardened. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she had to know for sure. “Why do you think he didn’t?”
She held his gaze, matching the intensity in his eyes. She wasn’t backing down until she had the answers she needed. The answers she deserved. “Always answering a question with a question. You ready to play a game?”
She was mentally calculating all of the sharp objects within her reach. She probably wouldn’t win, but she’d die trying.
“Sure.” His voice hardened. “Twenty Questions?” His eyes narrowed. “You can even go first.”
Her stomach twisted in knots. Not because she thought he’d actually harm her, but because she didn’t want Grant to be telling the truth. “Why do you think Grant killed her?”
“His fingerprints were in her house.”
“He could have been there before. That doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”
“My turn,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “What happened in the office today after I left?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She could answer that one honestly without bringing up Grant. He’d happened outside the office. “I listened to the calls and tried to track Grant,” she said as she moistened her lip.
“Is that all?”
“No. I drew a picture. My turn.” She grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured a glass, leaving the thick bottle on the counter and within reaching distance.
Thank God she hadn’t bought the wine in a box.
The answer to the next question would tell her whether or not he was lying. “Was your sister-in-law psychic?”
His mouth had parted before he snapped it closed. Her question startled him. “Why would you ask that?”
“Answer the question.” Her heart raced, and her shoulders tightened. It was now or never.
“Yes,” he said. His words eased her shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shook his head. “You skipped my turn.” He grabbed the counter and met her gaze. “Who told you that?”
Harper slipped the card out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. “The same man you’re convinced wants me dead. I don’t know what sick game he and you are playing, but I really wish you’d leave me out of it.”
Ryker picked up the card, and she grabbed the wine glass and the bottle before walking into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
She leaned on the wood and tried to calm her erratic heartbeat.
She needed the space. Time to re-gather her resolve.
She let out a shaky breath. One of these men wanted her dead.
A knock sounded at her back, making her jump.
“Harper.” Ryker’s voice had softened. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She stepped away from the door. “And I think you need to leave.”
The doorknob twisted and slowly opened until he was staring at her. “Not a chance in hell. Harper, he knows who you are.”
Her legs bumped the bed as she slowly backed away. “He said you’re delusional. He said I shouldn’t trust you, or I’ll end up dead.”
Ryker’s hand stayed on the knob, and he didn’t make a move to come any closer. “You believe him?”
Her breath raced as shame, anger, and frustration heated her cheeks. “I don’t want to believe him.”
Anguish crossed his face before he quickly masked the regret in his eyes. “Do you still have the pepper spray and my knife?”
She nodded. “Yeah, do I need it?”
“Get them and meet me in the SUV.” With those words, he turned and walked away. For the second time today, she was left confused. Harper quickly pushed the haze away, not waiting to make sense of it.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Ryker.”
Ryker paused in the hallway and turned back to face her.
“Your sisters told me today that I should believe in you. That I should trust you, and I do. This is me trusting you. This is one of those pivotal moments in life, when your decision will define where we go from here. Once I walk out that door, if you’re not with me, I’m not coming back. You either trust me, or you don’t.”
She stood motionless. She wanted to scream that she did, and yet the words wouldn’t come out. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she mentally debated. Did she trust him?
He gave a hard nod and turned, walking away.
Her heart clenched tight, making it unbearable to breathe. “Ryker, wait.”
He didn’t.
She barely had time to jump into the passenger seat as he put the SUV in reverse.