CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHLOE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHLOE
NOW
Sleep doesn’t come easy, but even with how sleep-deprived I am, that shouldn’t come as a surprise.
As suspected, Ryker does not fit in the bed, and his feet hang off the edge like something out of a cartoon. And more than that, it seems he’s a cuddler, which is made worse by the fact that he’s a human heater.
I’m tempted to ask if he needs to see a doctor for running so hot, but the knowledge that he’ll make it into some kind of joke stops me.
He’s fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room. If I’m going to make a run for it, now is the perfect time to try because I might not get another chance like this.
The problem is, he insisted on bringing all my bags in, which means it’s going to be hard for me to gather them without waking him.
The question is, is it worth the risk?
It’s not that I think Ryker will hurt me if he catches me sneaking out, because if there’s one thing I’m almost certain of, it’s that he doesn’t mean me any harm, but there’s a part of me that’s terrified to disappoint him.
Which I realize is ridiculous. He’s just my bodyguard, and by the time I’m far enough away to make a new life for myself, he’ll probably have forgotten all about me, but I don’t want that. I don’t want him to forget me, and that’s where the problem lies.
In such a short amount of time, he’s weaseled his way into my heart, and now I’m faced with a similar predicament to a decade ago.
Leaving someone in order to save myself.
It’s different now, of course. Unless immaculate conception is possible, I’m not pregnant. I’m also an adult that’s jaded enough to tell myself everything I think I feel will eventually fade.
Nothing lasts forever, including pain. Eventually it eases enough to breathe through, and if it means a fresh start, I can put myself through anything.
Mind made up, I slip from between the sheets and slide the shoes I left beside the bed on. Once I’m standing, I search the dark room for my bags, finding them leaning against the drawers at the end of the bed.
Lifting them as quietly as possible, I keep my eyes locked on Ryker’s sleeping form, the rise and fall of his chest, the sounds he makes as he sleeps.
I move toward the door, slipping my phone into my pocket as I throw another look toward the bed.
There’s one thing I haven’t considered that makes me pause with my hand on the handle.
What if Damon is lying in wait? He could grab me so easily, and Ryker would just assume I ran away.
I’d be walking right into his trap.
But on the other hand, this is my only chance of escaping.
Once I’m back at the De Marco estate, I’ll have too many eyes on me, and running won’t be an option. Sure, I might be safe there for a time, but now the Lombardis know where I am, they won’t stop until I’m dead, just like my parents.
Because they don’t believe that a person’s sins are just their own, Salvatore thinks that your entire lineage should be wiped out if your transgression is serious enough.
This is my chance to start a new life, the only chance I’ll get, and that’s what I remind myself as I slip out of the motel room with one final look at the man that made me feel something for the first time in years.
I glance around the parking lot, but when I don’t find anyone waiting for me, I make my way toward the car.
Guilt eats at me when I remember Ryker will be stranded, but he is the one that hid in my trunk like a serial killer, so I guess he kind of deserves to be left alone a few hours away from home.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself to ease the ache in my chest.
I unlock the car and drop the bags into the passenger seat, but this time I take the time to check the back seat and trunk for any hitchhikers, only allowing my shoulders to relax when I find them both empty.
So why can’t I get in the car?
Why am I hesitating?
I swallow past the lump in my throat and reach for the driver’s door.
Delaying the inevitable only increases the chances Damon will catch me before I can escape, and that’s enough to get me moving.
Until a warm body presses to my back, trapping me in place. Before I can scream, a tattooed hand covers my mouth, muffling the cry for help.
“Running from me again, Siren?” Ryker murmurs against the shell of my ear. “Perhaps now is the time I let you in on a little secret.” He tilts his hips forward, pressing the evidence of his arousal against my ass. “I really fucking love the chase.”
A soft moan tumbles from between my lips, earning me a rough chuckle.
“Oh, you like the idea of being chased, don’t you, dirty girl?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Liar. You want to be chased. You want me to hunt you.” He says it with absolute certainty, and I hate the way my thighs press together to ease the ache settling there.
There’s something wrong with me. There has to be. Because no normal person wants to be prey. No one who is sane wants to be hunted in the dead of night by a man that could kill them without breaking a sweat.
If the last few days have taught me anything, it’s that I really need to go back to therapy.
“Just let me go,” I whisper, my heart beating so hard it’s like surround sound in my ears.
“Never,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear.
“Ryker,” I plead, but my fight is weak, because for years I’ve been alone.
I haven’t let anyone get close, and the only person I would have considered a friend up until a few days ago was Camilla.
My heart longs for someone to care, for someone to sneak their way into my heart and make me feel again.
Even if my mind screams that it’s a bad idea.
“There you go again with my name on your pretty pink lips, Siren,” he groans, pressing his hardness further against my ass.
“We’re in public.”
“Barely. It’s the middle of the night in a town with about six people. The chances of being caught are next to zero.” He trails kisses down my throat. “Next.”
I open my mouth to argue again, to list the hundred other reasons this is a terrible idea, but I can’t get the words out. They’re there. So close I can taste them, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want him to stop.
“That’s what I thought,” he rumbles. “One of these days we’ll find some dense woods, and I’ll give you a five-minute head start. If you escape me, I’ll take you home and fuck you in a bed. But if I catch you? I’ll fuck you in the dirt so hard you’ll be feeling me between your thighs for weeks.”
The moan that escapes me is so unfamiliar I almost don’t realize it came from me.
Before I have a chance to reply, he pulls away just enough to turn me before pinning me back against the side of the car, his eyes flaming with desire.
“There she is,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. “There’s my dirty girl.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop another moan from escaping.
It’s not that I’m ashamed of wanting the things he’s offering.
It’s that leading him on is only going to get us both hurt.
Because I can’t stay in New York, and although I know little of his life before he came here, I doubt he would follow me across the world to escape the Lombardis.
“Say no, and everything stops,” he says softly, but I don’t get a chance to ask what I’m saying no to before my sweatpants and panties are shoved down and I’m lifted from the ground with no choice but to wrap my legs around his hips.
My pants snag around my ankle, but that doesn’t seem to be enough to deter him because a second later the sound of fabric tearing fills the quiet night, and then the blunt head of his cock is pressed to my entrance.
Oh god, am I really going to let Ryker fuck me here in the open like this?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say the word, to end this before it can go too far. But then I meet green eyes so familiar they make my heart ache, and my need for revenge takes the reins.
Ronan may not have been the one to hurt me physically, but he broke me in every other way possible, and this is my chance to hurt him right back.