Unbeautiful

  I’m sorry I missed picking you up. Something came up, and I had to work late. Rain check?

  I tape the note to her door and then jog back to my apartment, hoping to take a nap before “work” tonight. I’m supposed to meet Doc at the bar again for what I’m crossing my fingers is a mellow night.

  “Dude, you look like shit,” Luke says as I trudge into the apartment.

  My clothes and hair are soaked from the rain, and my boots leave a trail of mud on the floor as I kick the door behind me and drop exhaustedly onto the sofa.

  “I feel like shit.” I notice a duffel bag next to the sofa. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Yeah, Violet and I decided to take a road trip.” He scoops up his wallet and car keys from the coffee table and stuffs them into his pocket. “We both have a week off from work, so we thought what the hell? Let’s do it.” He checks his phone. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” He holds up his phone to show me a message “Violet says I should make you.”

  I wish I could.

  I wish I had a normal life.

  Wish.

  Wish.

  Wish.

  “Sorry, I can’t.” I slip my boots off and run my fingers though my rain-drenched hair before signing, “I have work and class.” And a secret life I wish I could tell you about but don’t want to risk your life, all so I can lessen the burden of my secrets.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re so responsible,” he says sarcastically, then flashes me a grin to let me know he’s kidding. He picks up his bag. “We’ll be back next Friday.” He opens the door as he hitches the handle of his bag over his shoulder. “If you need anything, call us.”

  I nod and he walks out, shutting the door behind him.

  And then I’m alone.

  The silence sets in.

  Peace briefly encompasses me.

  For a moment, I can pretend that all is right in my life.

  That I’m just a guy hanging out in my apartment, waiting for his beautiful girlfriend to show up and come to collect her rain check.

  Then my business phone vibrates and the peace evaporates.

  I dig my phone out of my pocket, dreading whatever the text says.

  Doc: We need to talk ASAP.

  Me: Okay, you want me to meet you at the bar?

  Doc: No, I’m coming to your place. I don’t want this going down at the bar.

  I swallow hard and my hands begin to shake. What’s going on?

  Me: Do you need the address?

  Doc: Ryler, I’ve known where you live since the day you moved in.

  Me: Oh, okay. I’ll be here, then.

  Doc: Don’t worry. I just need to talk to you about something personal. I’ll see you in about ten minutes

  Ten fucking minutes.

  I try to remember anything I could have possibly done to give myself away. The only thing I can think of is when I got into Stale’s car today.

  “Shit.” I leap from the chair, dash back to my bedroom, and yank open the drawer. I rummage through the clothes until I find my gun then tuck it into the back of my pants before sending Stale a text.

  Me: I think my cover might be blown.

  Stale: Why? What happened?

  Me: Doc sent a text saying he was heading over here in ten minutes. He already knew where I lived. He could have seen me get into the car with you if he’s been watching me.

  Stale: Ryler, you have to stay calm. This could easily be just to talk. It actually might be a good thing. Might mean you’re moving up.

  I pace my room, restless.

  Me: Or it could be an execution... he said it was personal.

  Stale: It’s highly unlikely that he’d text you first. This could easily be a new job position. Or it could be to discuss last night, to make sure you’re going to keep quiet.

  Me: And what if it isn’t?

  Stale: I’ll send a few guys to keep an eye on the apartment. If you need backup, all you have to do is text, and they’ll be there. But Ryler, you need to be calm. If Doc notices you’re nervous, he’ll pick up on it.

  He’s right. I could easily be overreacting. But I could easily not be overreacting. After some of the stuff I’ve seen...

  I put the phone away and guzzle a few shots of tequila. The scorching liquid swims through my veins and calms my nerves a smidgeon. Then I step outside to have a smoke and watch the rain slam against the ground and the lightning blaze through the sky.

  I feel like I should be making an escape plan, but in Elderman’s world, anything could happen. If I run, he more than likely will have his men chase. If I hide, they would easily find me. I know because I’ve aided in tracking people down. Besides, where the hell am I going to go in ten minutes? No, this was all planned perfectly, as if Doc knew I was going to run.

  My thoughts wander to Brooks’s brother. I wonder if that’s where my future is heading, that if I keep doing this, I’ll wind up dead, too.

  I finish my last drag right as Doc’s Barracuda turns into the parking lot. It’s a rare enough car that I know it’s him. He parks next to my Challenger, and the air silences as he shuts off his engine. When he climbs out, he carefully scans the area before shutting the car door. He continues to look around as he makes his way across the front lawn and toward the stairway, as if he suspects someone is out there, watching him. Rain soaks his fedora and trench coat, but he keeps an even pace, every one of his moves calculated, up the stairs, inching closer until he’s right in front of me.

  I flick the cigarette to the ground and put it out with my boot.

  “Ryler,” he says with a formal nod. “Thank you for meeting me so quickly.”

  Like I had a choice.

  “No problem,” I sign. “I wasn’t doing anything really. Just thinking about taking a nap.”

  A nervous smile touches his lips as he glances over his shoulder. I track his gaze, anticipating seeing one of his men’s cars out there in the parking lot, but he appears to be looking at the rain.

  “Mind if we go inside?” he asks, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  A gradual breath eases from my lips as I nod. Here we go. “Can I ask what it’s about?”

  Another glance over his shoulder then at the upper floor. He leans in, dropping his voice so low the rain almost swallows it up. “It’s about my daughter.”

  “Is everything okay with her?” I ask, then twist the doorknob to step inside.

  Once he enters my apartment, I shut the door and shuck off my jacket.

  Doc glances around the small, minimally furnished living room. “So, this is where you live?”

  I toss my jacket on the sofa. “Yeah. It’s small, but it works. I like to keep things simple.”

  “I can see that.” He removes his fedora and wipes off the rain from his forehead. “So, you asked me if my daughter was all right.” He smoothes his fingers across the brim of his hat. “Which, oddly enough, is part of the reason I came here—to ask you the same question.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t get it.” I sit down on the corner of the coffee table. “How would I know if she was?”

  “Because I think you already know her.” Looking torn, he sits down on the sofa and places his hat on his lap. “Her name is Emery Iveryson. She lives upstairs on the third floor.” He watches my reaction to confirm my knowledge of who Emery is.

  Jesus, this can’t be happening. I don’t even know how to process the information I’ve been given. I’ve made out with Doc’s daughter. Doc, the person I watched shoot a man point-blank.

  “Aw, I am right,” he says, reading my expression. “You do know her.”

  “A little,” I manage to lie.

  How didn’t I see this coming? All this undercover work, and I was hanging out with the enemy’s daughter all along.

  Fuck, I can’t breathe.

  “Good. I’m glad I was right.” Doc relaxes back into the couch, his nerves no longer evident. “It’ll make this a
hell of a lot easier.”

  I gape at him. “What easier?”

  Doc is Emery’s father.

  Emery is Doc’s daughter.

  The things she must know...

  No, I won’t go there.

  “To ask you for your help.” He sets his hat aside on the cushion and rests his arms on his knees. “You see, Ryler, my daughter, while completely flawless on the outside—which I’m sure is something you’ve noticed—has a lot of flaws on the inside. I’ve tried to break them out of her, but like my son, she’s stubborn. One of the things I couldn’t break her of was wanting to leave home. My wife and I have subtly tried to get her home because I don’t think dragging her back will do any good. Once Emery makes up her mind, it’s hard to change it.”

  “Okay.” I’m uncertain of what he wants from me.

  “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why the hell I’m telling you all this,” he says, reading my mind. “First, you should know that I trust you. You’ve proven that time and time again. And, last night, you passed my test with flying colors.”

  “Wait a minute. Last night was just a test?”

  “Well, technically. The man did ruin my son, but I took his death as an opportunity to see how you’d react in a situation like that, if you’d panic or break down. You handled it calmly, though. You kept your head together, took the wheel when I asked you to, and most importantly, kept your mouth shut.” He moves back to reach into his pocket.

  My fingers twitch to grab the gun tucked in the back of my jeans. But when he removes his hand, in his palm is a key.

  “I want you to keep an eye on Emery while she’s living here. She doesn’t know it, but I’ve got more enemies than she even realizes.” He sticks out his hand toward me. “This key is to her place, in case you ever need to get in there.”

  I reach to take the key, but he clasps his hands around the metal. Thunder booms and rain slaps against the glass as the wind howls from outside.

  “Ryler, I need to make sure you’ll protect her with your life. I need you to promise me you’ll keep close to her, and that if anything happens, she’ll come first, no matter what. I know it’s asking a lot, but it’s important. My daughter is more important than she even realizes.”

  I pluck the key from his hand. “I don’t want this to sound wrong, but I have to ask. If she’s so important, don’t you think maybe a bodyguard would be better?”

  He smiles eerily. “You act as if you two barely know each other. I know you’ve gotten close and my daughter trusts you, which means she’ll be truthful with you if something happens. You should know that she very unstable. Sometimes, she can’t see things for what they are. She can be toxic and dangerous. Again, even more than she realizes. I need someone to handle her.” His eyes bore a hole into my head. “Not only does she trust you with some of her secrets, but she trusts you. I know you can protect her. I think, for now, it’s the perfect solution to keep her safe.”

  My pulse pounds deafeningly inside my chest. He’s saying all of this straightforwardly, as if he knows Emery has told me secrets, not just assuming she has. Just how much does he know?

  “How do you know she trusts me?”

  “Now that’s one of the secrets I can’t tell.” His grin widens. “So, what do you say, Ryler? Do we have a deal?” He extends his hand to me to shake on it.

  I hesitate. “Can I ask for a favor, though? It’s not a big one… just about Haven, and… Well, she won’t leave me alone.”

  He nods understandingly. “Yes, the last thing you need is for Haven to distract you; I know how she can get. I’ll make sure she leaves you alone so you can put all of your attention on keeping Emery safe.” He thrusts his hand to me again, urging me to take it.

  The look on his face is terrifying. A look of the devil himself. I shouldn’t make the deal, but I’m afraid he’ll shoot me or something if I don’t. And, even though I hate it, a thought prickles in the back of my mind.

  Emery might know where the warehouse is.

  Besides, I don’t think I really have a choice. Doc may be asking me, but I think watching Emery became my new job title.

  I feel bad for what I’m about to do, though. I feel too much like Aura in the moment, stabbing Emery in the back. Still, I take Doc’s hand and make an unbinding commitment, feeling as though I’m making a deal with the devil, hoping I don’t wind up selling my soul at the end of all of this.

  Chapter 12

  Dirty Little Secret

  Emery

  College.

  What can I say about college? It’s pretty much the same as high school. The teachers still love to hear themselves talk. The students still rarely listen.

  I still absorb everything, seeking good grades like I did in high school. But unlike high school, I’m not going to let my father blow this for me. The scar on my back throbs as I think about the note he left on the door.

  He’s in Laramie. Doing what? Working? Checking up on me? Coming to try to take me home? Was it him who put the brick through my window to scare me into going home?

  Unlike the note on the door, the note on the brick didn’t match his handwriting, though.

  For the next hour, I focus on the introductory lesson the professor is giving, but even after class is dismissed, my old life still hangs in the air and builds pressure in my chest. The pressure only builds once I step foot out of the classroom and into the busy hallway.

  Time abruptly slams to a stop.

  Because my ex-boyfriend is standing there in the midst of students, leaning against the wall.

  Why is he here?

  Evan is perfection in every way, shape, and form. Blue eyes; blond hair; and solid, defined muscles that cover every inch of his rock-solid body. But beneath his gorgeous exterior, he’s an asshole, something I’m realizing more and more each day.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he says when he spots me coming out of the classroom. “How was your first class?”

  “Good.” I walk up to him, holding my books in my arms like a shield, protecting me from everyone crowding the hall.

  Or maybe it’s to protect them from me.

  I shake the last thought from my head.

  Now is not the time to hear voices, Emery. Not in front of Evan.

  His eyes scroll over me, savoring my lean body and the small amount of cleavage peeking out from the top of my shirt created by my pushup bra.

  “You look so damn sexy. You know that? Absolutely amazing.” He states it as a simple fact.

  So simple am I just to be sexy.

  Like it’s all that matters.

  Like it’s supposed to.

  “Thanks.” I stop in front of him so he can press a kiss to my lips. “You look good, too, I guess.”

  “Not guess, you know I look sexy.” He offers me another smile as he reaches for my hand and twines our fingers together.

  What the hell is going on?

  “I don’t mean for this to sound rude,” I say as we walk down the hall together, just like we did all through high school, with him in front of me, guiding me. “But why are you here? I thought... Well, I thought we broke up.”

  “No, we just had an argument,” he replies nonchalantly, as if him being here is the most casual thing in the world. “Couples can have arguments, Emery.”

  “That’s not what you used to say,” I remind him. “You used to say couples never fought. That, if they did, they shouldn’t be together.”

  “Did I say that?” He pretends to ponder the idea. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  “It sounds exactly like you.” I halt in the hallway and pull my hand from his. “And you still haven’t explained why you’re here in Laramie. Are you a traitor now, too?”

  “No, my father just decided I should attend a university instead of a community college to get a better education.”

  “Since when? I thought you were taking over the family business.”

  “I am, but he thought I needed to get a taste of the real world, too.”

>   “So you’re...” I struggle to remain collected, but the air is already being stolen from my lungs. “You’re staying here?”

  “Yep. With you.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders and guides me closer to him.

  “With me?” I bite at my nails. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. “Wait, did my mother send you to check up on me? Is that how you knew I was in class?”