For Her Pleasure Page 19
your ass if she finds out you went to a strip joint.”
Mac cracked a grin. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing toward the stool next to Ryder.
“Be my guest.” Ryder motioned to the barkeep. “A beer for my friend.”
Mac’s eyes flitted toward the stage where Mia was dancing. He picked up the beer plunked in front of him and took a long swallow.
“That the new woman?” he asked.
Ryder bit the inside of his cheek. “Kit send you to ask?”
Mac’s expression darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ryder sighed and turned to look fully at Mac. “Look, man, let’s not play games. I know Kit was upset. I know I was an ass.”
Mac stared for a minute then slowly nodded.
“Why did you do it, man? Why did you push for marriage?”
Mac looked away then back at Ryder. “You’re pissed that I asked her to marry me.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“What’s going on, Ryder? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Ryder knew he should just shut up, lie through his teeth and be done with it. But damn it, he couldn’t.
“You knew she wasn’t ready for marriage. Hell, she’d just gotten used to the idea of living with you. You knew she ran scared the minute she figured out how you felt about her. Are you just trying to push her away?”
Anger glinted and flashed in Mac’s eyes. “Not everyone has such a shitty view of relationships, Ryder. Not everyone would prefer death to an actual commitment. Marriage is a natural progression in a relationship.”
“Yeah, I suppose next, you’ll be telling me you want a picket fence and two-point-five kids.”
Mac remained silent.
“Jesus. I’m right aren’t I?”
Mac’s lips pressed together, looking as if he were holding onto his temper by a thread.
“Look, Ryder, not everyone hates their parents like you and Kit. Not everyone had a crappy upbringing. Some of us had normal, loving parents, and some of us want to carry on that tradition.”
Ryder gritted his teeth and counted to five. Then he got into Mac’s face.
“Listen to me, Mac. Kit has a very good reason to hate her lousy-ass parents. Even more so than I do. They hurt her more than you or I can ever understand. You should know all of this, Mac. More than that, you should respect Kit’s wishes, and you know damn well she isn’t ready for marriage or for kids. You should feel damn lucky she loves you and wants to be with you.”
“What the fuck are you really saying, Ryder?” Mac challenged, his face growing angrier by the moment. “What gives you the right to make judgments about my relationship with Kit?”
“I love her.”
Mac sighed. “I know you do, man.”
“No, Mac. I love her.”
Shocked silence descended between them. The anger completely disappeared from Mac’s face. He stared hard at Ryder, his mouth slightly open.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
Mac turned around to face ahead then drained the rest of his beer. “I don’t know what to say, man.”
“There’s nothing to say,” Ryder said grimly. “I know I’m too late, but this isn’t easy for me. I’ve been looking out for her as long as you have. Maybe longer. I know she loves you. I’d never try to come between the two of you. But don’t expect me to be all happy and wear a shit-eating grin for you when I feel like I’m fucking dying.”
Mac opened his mouth to speak, but Ryder cut him off.
“And don’t you breathe a goddamn word to Kit about this. She doesn’t need this. It’s easier this way. She has you. She’ll forget me.”
“No,” Mac said quietly. “I’m not so sure she will.”
Mac stood up and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I guess I should go. I just wanted to stop in. I hadn’t seen you in a while.” He seemed at a loss for words, like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Ryder couldn’t blame him.
“Yeah,” Ryder muttered.
He watched his longtime friend walk away and wondered if he’d irrevocably fucked up his friendship with the two people who were most important to him.
“Damn it!”
He pounded his fist on the bar, ignoring the swift flash of pain that shot up his arm. He turned back to the stage only to see Mia had already stepped off. He scanned the room and found her standing by the hallway that led to the dressing rooms.
Ryder frowned. Mia was against the wall, a uniformed cop pressing heavy into her space. He clunked his beer bottle down and strode across the crowded room, shoving people out of his way.
When he got close enough to see better, he could see that Mia was being threatened by the punk in uniform. God, he hated cops on a power trip. Too bad the strip joint wasn’t in the same county Mac worked in. Ryder actually liked his sheriff’s department.
“Back off, buddy,” Ryder said in a menacing voice.
The cop whipped around in surprise, then his lips curled in a surly twist. “I don’t believe this concerns you, buddy. Police business. Butt out.”
“Unless you have a warrant for her arrest I suggest you get out of the lady’s space,” Ryder snarled. He flexed his muscles for good measure.
The cop swore under his breath then turned back to Mia. “We’re not finished.”
He stalked off, brushing hard against Ryder’s shoulder as he passed. Mia sank against the wall, her eyes glazed with fear and disgust. She looked surprisingly vulnerable, a change from her usual cocky, smart-mouthed attitude.
“What did he want, Mia?”
She shook her head. “He’s a dickhead. Don’t worry about him.”
“Are you all right, little girl?”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Ryder. I appreciate the assist.”
He frowned and put his hand on her arm to steady her as she stood up straight. “Want me to take you home?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve got to pull a double. One of the other girls didn’t show. I’ve only got a few minutes to change. I’ll catch you later.”
Ryder’s brows came together as he watched her walk down the hall toward the dressing room. He didn’t know what the fuck had just gone on, but whatever it was, it wasn’t on the up and up. Mia was shook up. Her usually unflappable demeanor had taken a serious beating.
He shook his head and turned to go. The entire fucking world was two shakes from insanity. He needed a ride. Something to clear his head. Maybe the open road and his Harley could provide a reprieve from all the goddamn drama.
CHAPTER 9
It had begun to rain, and Ryder was soaked to the skin. Typical late summer Texas shower. Blew up from nowhere and wouldn’t last long.
He rode blindly, opening up the Harley until the wind and rain lashed his face. He hadn’t meant to go the old familiar route to the closed-up house high atop Barkley Hill. But here he was.
He slowed and turned into the drive then stopped and set his feet down on the ground to steady the bike. The house loomed in front of him like some goddamn bad omen. Why had he come here of all places?
You’re a goddamn mess. Just look at you. Do you think anyone will ever take you seriously with all those earrings and tattoos?
His father’s voice echoed so loudly in his head he flinched and looked around. But he wasn’t here. He was dead. Long buried in the esteemed family plot reserved for the lofty Sinclairs.
I thank God every day that your mother isn’t alive to see what you’ve become.
A heavy ache settled into his chest, tightening until he was sucking harder to get air into his lungs.
Mac’s words echoed next to his father’s in his head.
Not everyone hated their parents like you and Kit.
“And not every parent hates their child,” Ryder muttered.
He should have burned the house to the ground the day his father passed away. There was no reason to keep it. No reason to sell it. He sure didn’t need the money.
It stood on the hill looking down on the world just like his father had.
“Fuck you,” Ryder bit out. “Fuck you and your goddamn expectations.”
It rained harder and still Ryder stood there, glaring up the hill. His fingers curled into fists. Mac might have had a June-fucking-Cleaver upbringing, but it didn’t mean the rest of the world had. He had no right to assert his own Pollyanna view on everyone else. Or on Kit.
And what could you offer her? a voice jeered in his head.
“Understanding,” Ryder muttered. “I could offer her understanding.”
Kit snuggled deeper into Mac’s arms and listened to the steady downpour of rain as it echoed off the roof. They were lying in bed watching the credits role on the movie that had just finished.
“I love the rain,” she murmured.
“Tell me why you hated your parents,” Mac said.
She reared her head in surprise and pushed away from him to stare in astonishment. “What? Why would you ask something like that? What on earth brought that up?”
He regarded her with a thoughtful expression. “Ryder says I should already know, but I don’t because you’ve never told me.”
Her heart sped up. “When did you talk to Ryder?”
An annoyed expression covered his face. “It doesn’t matter when we talked. What matters is that you tell me what happened with them. Why you hated them so much.”
She slid further under the covers and turned her face away from Mac to stare out the window on the opposite wall. Rain splashed against the window and ran in rivulets down the glass.
“I don’t want to talk about them,” she whispered.
Mac scooted up in the bed and gently turned her chin until she faced him again. “It’s important, Kit. We need to talk about them.”
She closed her eyes and shuddered lightly. “There’s not much to tell. My stepfather was a bastard. My mother got tired of him. And me apparently. She left when I was ten. Never said good-bye. One morning I woke up and she was gone.”
Mac’s hand stroked soothingly through her hair.
She sat up, pulling the covers around her waist. She pulled her knees toward her chest until her chin rested on the tops. She hugged her arms around her legs and took in several steadying breaths.
“My stepfather was furious. With me. He blamed me for her leaving. I was too whiny. Too demanding. Too high maintenance.”
“Jesus, you were just a kid,” Mac said.
She nodded. “At first his abuse was just verbal, but his drinking got worse and then he started hitting me.”
She could hear the distant echo of smacking flesh. Feel the pain and accompanying shame. Beside her she heard Mac’s sharp intake of breath and his grip tightened in her hair.
“Nothing major at first. A slap here. A kick there.”
Mac swore.
“But it got worse. I learned to avoid him,” she said in a dry dispassionate voice. “And then, when I was sixteen, his abuse turned sexual.”
Numbness crept over her. Numbness she was used to, clung to, needed desperately in order to think back to that time.
“Goddamn!”
Mac turned her into his chest and hugged her tightly against him. “I didn’t know, baby. I knew it was bad at home. I knew it was why you spent so much time with Ryder out at the lake, but I didn’t know.”
The pain and anguish in her voice managed to prick her when the memory of her abuse couldn’t. She felt distant, like she was telling someone else’s story. Blocked out that it had been her.
She licked her lips and pushed away from Mac. “I threatened to kill him,” she murmured. “After the third time, I couldn’t take it anymore. Something broke inside me. Maybe I went a little crazy. I took his shotgun and told him to get out. Told him if he ever came near me again, I’d kill him. He didn’t believe me until he tried to take the gun away from me. I pulled the trigger. I think it scared him. He packed up and left. I never saw him again.”
She laughed dryly, the sound unpleasant. “He was the one person I wasn’t sad to see leave me.”
Mac leaned into her, pressed his forehead to hers until their lips were just a breath apart. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I had known. I wish I had done something.”
She looked at him a little sadly and reached up to touch his face so close to hers. “You were a teenager, Mac. What could you have done?”
“I would have taken you away from there,” Mac said. “I swear I would have.”
She smiled and closed her eyes to hold the tears back. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Mac pulled away and cupped her cheek in his big hand. “Do you love me, Kit? I mean really love me? Do you want to marry me?”
She stared at him in astonishment. This was not like Mac at all. “What on earth has gotten into you? Do you doubt me?”
“Just answer the question, Kit. I need to know.”
She reached out a hand to touch him. To somehow reassure him. “Mac, I love you with all my heart. I never want to be without you.”
He let out all his breath then pulled her against him, gripping her tightly. “I never want to be without you either, baby.”
CHAPTER 10
Ryder roared into Mac’s drive and skidded to a stop in the gravel. He knocked the kickstand down with his foot and eased off his bike. He stood there staring at the door for a long time.
It had been two weeks since he had blurted out to Mac that he loved Kit. Two long-ass weeks of being without his friends. He wasn’t a sappy kind of guy, but he missed being around Mac and Kit.
He was through being a dumbass. Yeah, he loved Kit so much he ached, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Mac and Kit belonged to each other, and he wasn’t going to begrudge them their happiness. Nor was he going to end up a bitter old bastard and sacrifice their friendship because the other man won.
He trekked up the steps to Mac’s porch and walked inside just like he’d done a million times before. What met his gaze drew him up short, though.
There in the middle of the living room stood Kit and Mac. Kit’s forehead rested against Mac’s chest, and he held her tightly against him.
“We’ll work it out, baby,” Mac said softly, still oblivious to Ryder’s presence.
Ryder cleared his throat. “Did I come at a bad time?”
When she heard him, she looked up and Ryder could see the evidence of her tears. His gut tightened in reaction.
“What the hell is going on?” Ryder demanded. Fear swelled in his throat. “Are you all right, darlin’?”
“I’m—I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
“Ah hell,” Ryder said. No wonder she was so upset. He glared over at Mac. Had he planned this? Was this one more thing he’d pushed Kit into?
Mac looked back at him, pain burning so brightly in his eyes, Ryder knew immediately something else had to be wrong.
“I take it you aren’t happy about it?” Ryder asked, trying to inflect a little levity into the situation.
Kit stared at him, tears filling her eyes once more. “You don’t understand, Ryder. The baby . . . it could be yours.”