Chapter Thirteen

Ridley spent the next two weeks practically living out of her shop. She cut, she sewed, she put together two more pieces that would round out the line. It should have been her happiest moment when she finished the final one—she was almost there—but all she felt was an echo through the depression that seemed all too willing to drag her under the second she stopped moving.

Garrett was gone and, as much as she would have liked to pretend otherwise, their relationship blowing up almost as soon as it started was as much her fault as his. She’d let him brush off her wanting to talk time and time again, setting the stage for things to go sideways.

But the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that she’d had to force the issue that night at Serve. They couldn’t keep going forward in that state of weird limbo, no matter how uncomfortable the idea of talking obviously made him.

Uncomfortable enough to drive her away using words cherry-picked to hit her where it hurt the worst.

She sat back and twisted to relieve that ache at the base of her spine from working for so long. It didn’t matter. Fashion Week was almost here and… And then she’d step up in front of all those people and either blow it out of the water or fall flat on her face. All that hard-won confidence she’d had while she was working her ass off with an internship straight through college, and then finally branching out on her own, seemed nowhere in sight. She couldn’t blame that on Garrett, but a petty part of her wanted to. The truth was she’d been having a crisis of faith ever since she got her invitation. She couldn’t shake the fact that she was outclassed and they would see her for the fraud she was the second her show started.

Ridley stood and crossed to the rack of clothing she’d spent the last six months putting together. It was some of her finest work—edgy and creative and pushing boundaries. She just didn’t know if it was enough.

“You look like someone who could use a drink.”

She glanced at Sara. “I’m taking back your spare key.”

“No, you’re not.” She slipped into the room and perched on the edge of Ridley’s desk. “You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

Because she couldn’t look at Sara without remembering the week she’d spent with Garrett and how it had turned to ash before she could truly convince herself that it was real. “I’ve been working.”

“You were working before you had a fling with my brother, and you still managed to find time for me then.” She waved it away. “It doesn’t matter. Garrett’s gone off on another top-secret mission so it’s not like you’re going to accidentally run into him if you leave this room.”

Ridley’s heart stuttered. “He’s gone?” She mentally kicked herself as soon as the words left her lips. Of course he was gone. He’d already told her he was leaving soon. She just hadn’t realized how soon.

“Yeah.” Sara watched her closely. “I think he was gone the day after your fall-out.”

It shouldn’t surprise her. Hadn’t he done exactly the same thing eight years ago? But, God, it still hurt. She pressed a hand to her chest. It didn’t matter if he’d promised to come back. That promise had been made when they were…what? Together? They hadn’t been, not really. There was no reason it would hold true even then, and it certainly wouldn’t now. She sank into her chair. “Oh.”

“It’s time to talk about it.” Sara pushed to her feet. “It’s your choice whether we talk about it here or with a drink in hand—and I think you’d know which I’d prefer.”

“Yeah, me, too.” A drink was definitely needed if she was going to get into it with her best friend, but Sara was right—she did need to talk about it. She grabbed her purse. “Are you sure you want the therapy bill that comes along with this conversation?”

“Honey, I got it.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Besides, let’s be honest, my therapy bill is already sky-high. This isn’t going to do any more damage.”

Ridley dug out her keys as they stepped onto the street. “I guess it’s only fair. This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t have let him know where we were that night at Hell’s Bells—”

“Then he would have just tracked you down a different way or a different day.” Sara fell into step beside her as they headed for one of their favorite watering holes a few blocks down. “You and Garrett are like magnets. It was only a matter of time.”

She knew that, even as she tried to come up with an argument against it. Things would be so much easier if she could just blame all this mess on someone else and move on with her life. The problem was moving on when she’d left huge chunks of her heart in Garrett’s hands. She didn’t feel whole—hadn’t since she left Serve that night. And, even worse, the only man who could fix that was the same one who’d caused it.

O’Bannon’s was one of those places where people took one step inside, looked around, and immediately found safer accommodations. It was frequented by a clientele that was pretty damn scary to look at, but she and Sara had stumbled in here one night after they turned twenty-one, immediately made friends with all the bouncers, and just kept coming back.

Jerry nodded at them from where he was drying glasses. “Girls.”

“Hey, Jerry.”

Sara looped her arm through Ridley’s. “We’re taking the back booth, okay?”

“I’ll be over in a sec with your usual.”

“Thanks.” They slid into the booth, and then there was no more time to procrastinate, because Sara zeroed in on her. “Talk.”

What was she supposed to say? Unbidden, words bubbled up. “I should have run screaming the other way as soon as I realized who he was.” She caught the unwavering look on Sara’s face and sighed. “I shouldn’t have tried for Will, either. That was a mistake.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Maybe not.”

Right. Because that was helpful. Ridley forced a smile as Jerry set their drinks in front of them and shuffled away. “I understand that, ah, certain things that happened in high school had a lasting effect on him.” On all of them.

Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why everyone keeps dancing around it. Our mom was a selfish bitch and left without having the decency to say goodbye or leave a note or anything. It’s not a secret.”

No, but it was something that none of them had really gotten past. Ridley sipped her drink. “Well, I understand that he was freaked out after your mom left, even if I still think his methods are bullshit and flawed.”

“Seconded.” Sara raised her beer. “I mean, Leslie? I’m sure he could have picked someone who wasn’t such a stuck-up bitch to screw. He knew how much we hated her and, seriously, a good pair of tits doesn’t make up for that kind of crazy.”

Before her friend could get onto a rant about their old high-school nemesis, she cut in, “He didn’t sleep with her—he just let me believe that he did.”

“What?”

She kept going before Sara could say anything else. Because the past wasn’t the problem—the present was. “But that’s ancient history now. Or it should be. His methods are still the same, though—drive me away and then disappear like some sort of ghost. The stupidest part of it is that I wanted to talk and clear the air and start something real…but apparently I was alone in that.” There was no other explanation other than Garrett just wanting to satisfy his curiosity with her before he moved on. Her heart cried out at the thought, but she told it to shut up. It didn’t matter if he’d done all sorts of thoughtful things or went out of his way to create a date she’d never forget. Those things might not fit with the picture she kept clinging to, but the other option—that he cared about her just as much as she cared about him and still drove her away—was even worse.

“Let me ask you something, okay?”

Ridley braced herself. “Okay.”

“Are you really feeling betrayed enough to let this end permanently? Or were you just scared and clinging to any reason to walk away now before things got too heavy.”

“Too heavy? They were heavy the second we started.” Ridley stared at her drink, already knowing what expression was on her friend’s face. “Okay, maybe it was a little of both. All I could focus on was that he was repeating history, and damn it Sara, that hurt. It still does.”

“I’m not going to excuse him, because it was a dick move. But my brother loves you, even if he’s not all that great at showing it.”

That was the thing. He was pretty great at showing it. She slumped in the seat. “I don’t know how to prove to him that I’m not going to just up and leave. Hell, I don’t even know if I want to, now.”

“Really?”

“Okay, fine. Yes, I still want him. Yes, I still love him.” She stopped, waiting for the sky to fall or something terrible to happen because she finally said those words aloud, and then instantly felt foolish. “But I’m not going to cling to a man who’s determined to drive me away just to protect himself from a theoretical future.”

“Not cling, Ridley. Fight for him.”

Fight for him. The words circled through her mind. What if she fought for him and it wasn’t enough? Could her pride take the blow of chasing down the one man who’d always been able to get under her skin, only to be rejected? Who was she kidding? Her pride was already as bruised and broken as her heart. Which meant she had nothing left to lose.

Nothing but Garrett.

Shit. She felt like Sara had just pointed out a line in the sand that Ridley had never noticed before. On one side she could keep her pride and move on with her life. Maybe she’d eventually find someone who she connected with half as well as Garrett, but it was far more likely that she wouldn’t.

And what would happen to him? It was a relatively safe bet that he had pretty strong feelings about her—he wouldn’t have needed to push her away if he didn’t. What would it do to Garrett to have her walk out of his life for good, confirming all his issues that had originated with his mother?

Ridley would never have another shot with him. If she let this end now and refused to fight, then it was over between them for good. Was she willing to lose Garrett forever?

Hell no.

…

Garrett staggered into Z’s place after the man, trying not to limp. He’d tweaked his ankle on that last run. It wasn’t bad enough to need looking at, but it hurt. Fuck, all of him hurt—and not just his body. It didn’t matter that, ever since they got back from that cakewalk of a mission, he’d just been running drills with some of the most dangerous men he’d ever known until they damn near drove him into the ground.

He couldn’t stop picturing the look of betrayal on Ridley’s face when he let her walk away. He’d well and truly fucked things up beyond repair.

In the kitchen Z cursed, the surprised tone of his voice getting Garrett moving. He picked up his pace, but stopped short when he reached the doorway. There, at the table, sat his twin. “Will?”

“How the fuck did you get in here?” Z slid to the side of the door, keeping his back to the cabinets, and rested his hand on the drawer where one of his spare guns was.

Will barely looked at him. “I might not have joined the Army with Garrett, but our uncle taught me the same tricks. My brother and I need some privacy.”

Z snorted. “By all means.” He strode from the room, leaving them alone.

“What are you doing here?”

“I sat back and watched you fuck up things almost beyond repair eight years ago. I’m not going to do it again.” Will motioned to the chair across the table from him. “Sit.”

“Is this an intervention?” When his brother didn’t move, he dropped into the seat. “This is none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you pulled that shit with Ridley right in front of me.” Will sat back. “She’s not our mother.”

Just like that, Garrett’s anger fled. Will was pissed he’d been an instrument in that, and he couldn’t even blame him. It had been a low blow on all counts. “It’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you used me to threaten Ridley.” Will sat back. “She’s not our mother.”

“You don’t think I know that? She couldn’t be further from Mom if she tried.” But she’d still left. Damn it, he didn’t have a right to hold that against her, but he couldn’t stop the old fear from rising at the image of her turning and walking away from him.

“Then what’s the issue?”

He could barely put it into words, even after all these years, but he tried because Will alone would understand. “I didn’t know. There weren’t any signs. I thought she was happy right up until the day she left.”

Will sighed. “No one knew. She kept it from all of us.”

“How can you fight against that when there were no warning tells?” Because that was what woke him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Not the horrors he’d seen at war. Not the things he’d done since then. The thought of the person he loved most in the world leaving him without warning. Pathetic.

“You can’t.”

Whatever he’d expected his brother to say, it wasn’t that. “What?”

“Our family knows better than most, but it’s the truth for anyone—there are no guarantees.”

He sat back. “This is one hell of a pep talk.”

“It’s not meant to be one.” He reached into his pocket and slid a piece of paper across the table. “Have you ever asked our father if he regrets the twenty years he spent married to our mother because of how it ended?”

Garrett didn’t touch the paper. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” How could he not regret it?

“I did, once. Do you know what he told me?” Will kept going without waiting for an answer. “He told me that those were the twenty best years of his life.”

“What? How could he say that?” He had seen the devastation their dad went through, the years of mourning a woman who was still among the living, but lost to him all the same. It was only in the last couple years or so that he’d started to get some of his old spark back, and Garrett was pretty damn sure that was a result of Sara’s bullying tactics. She decided it was high time for their old man to get back into the saddle, and no one said no to Sara once she set her mind on something.

“Because he loved her. Pain doesn’t magically poison that, no matter what some people would prefer to believe.” He sent a pointed look Garrett’s way. “The question is this—are you willing to miss out on being happy with Ridley simply because you’re afraid something might happen in the future?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It actually is.” Will pushed to his feet. “Do you resign yourself to death every time you follow Z into a mission?”

He jerked back. “Fuck no. That’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

“Exactly.” He walked away, leaving Garrett staring after him, his mind whirling. Was his brother right? Were his beliefs dooming things with Ridley before they ever started? The room seemed to spin as reality adjusted itself to fit that truth. Knowing that shouldn’t be enough to push him to fix things with Ridley but… It was Ridley. The girl he’d loved since he was sixteen. He’d already missed out on eight years with her. Was he willing to miss out on an entire lifetime?

The answer hit him almost before he finished the thought—fuck no.

He dragged the paper toward him and finally read it. A deceptively simple invitation inviting Garrett Reaver to view Ridley Ethridge’s show during Fashion Week, to be presented upon admittance. He ran his thumb over the raised font of her name. Even after everything he’d done, she still invited him to the show.

This was it. There would be no more chances. If he didn’t show, it was over between them for good.

A pit opened up inside him at the thought of living the rest of his life without Ridley in it. Unacceptable. He wanted her in his bed every damn day. He wanted years’ worth of memories with her. He wanted to build a life together. Fuck, he wanted her to have his children.

Garrett picked up the invitation and turned around to find Z watching him with those eerie green eyes that looked so out of place on his dark face. “You’re leaving.”

“Yeah.” The show was tomorrow, so he’d have to bust ass to get back to New York in time.

Z nodded as if he’d answered more than a simple question. “You’ll be back?”

“Maybe.” It depended on how things went with Ridley. He wasn’t exactly ready to give up working for Z, but he wasn’t prepared to make any decisions past getting to New York and doing his damnedest to get Ridley to forgive him.

“Good luck. She’s got to be something to get you twisted up like this.”

Garrett grinned, the weight on his shoulders easing for the first time in two weeks. “You have no idea.”