Crashing Into Love (35 page)

Wyatt turns on Kyle. I’ve never seen him so angry, fists flexing, muscles burgeoning, ready to attack. The last thing I see as Delilah drags me out of the room is Wyatt’s massive arm coiling back and the shocked expression on Kyle’s face. I hear a bunch of noises as we hurry down the hallway. The bitch is screaming, the guys are shouting, but it is all a blur, and when Delilah opens the door and the night air hits me, I collapse into her arms, yelling against her chest.

“He’s an asshole!”

Delilah rubs my back, trying to soothe me. It doesn’t help.

“Forget him. He’s a jerk. Wyatt will take care of him.”

Why do I feel bad that Wyatt is probably beating the shit out of him? My chest feels like it’s going to explode, and my limbs feel weak as Delilah leads me to the car, like I’m the one who’s been through a battle.

“My key,” I manage.

“Wyatt will get it. I’m sorry, Cassidy. I’m so sorry.” Delilah stands beside me as I lean against the car.

She’s been there for me as often as Wyatt has. The one thought that fights its way past the chaos in my head is how lucky I am to have them with me now and to have them in my life altogether. I can’t stop shaking. I take one gulp of air after another, trying to regain control.

The door to the building flies open and slams against the brick wall. Wyatt looks like the Hulk, dragging Kyle by the back of his shirt as he closes the distance between us. I spin around and face the car. I don’t want to look at Kyle. I can’t. I’m too hurt, too angry. And too humiliated to face Wyatt.

“Tell her.” Wyatt’s guttural command slices through the night.

“Jesus, Wyatt,” Delilah says just above a whisper.

Kyle doesn’t say anything.

“Tell. Her.” I can tell by Wyatt’s voice that he’s straining to rein in his anger.

I turn, more out of morbid curiosity than anything else, like when you can’t look away from a car accident. Kyle’s eye is swollen shut, and his lower lip is torn and bleeding. Wyatt squeezes Kyle’s jaw between his fingers and thumb. The skin beneath his hand is white from the pressure.

“Wyatt.” It comes out as a shaky whisper. I’ve seen fights before, but knowing
Wyatt
did that to Kyle and that it was because of me makes me scared, embarrassed, and sad all at once.

Wyatt ignores my plea.

“Fucking tell her. Now, you asshole,” Wyatt says through gritted teeth.

Kyle’s eyes lock on mine, and I think I see remorse beneath the fear. “It’s not what it—”

Wyatt silences him with a punch to the jaw, sending Kyle stumbling backward. Wyatt grabs him by the collar again and pulls his fist back. Kyle’s hands fly up in surrender.

I realize that it isn’t remorse I see in Kyle’s eyes, and I hate him even more than I did a minute ago.

“I’ll tell her!” Kyle spits, probably a mouthful of blood, and looks sheepishly at me.

I’m shaking so hard that when Delilah reaches for my hand, I can’t hold on to it. How many times have I looked into his eyes and believed he loved me? How many lies has he told me? I have to look away again.

“Now,” Wyatt demands.

“I’ve been sleeping with her for six months,” Kyle admits, and my breath leaves me in a rush of hot air. “But it didn’t mean anything. I swear it.”

Wyatt shoves him hard, and Kyle tumbles to the pavement. Wyatt looms over him, his chest heaving with anger. “Didn’t fucking mean anything? It meant something to Cassidy, you asshole. If I ever find you near her again, I. Will. Kill. You. Now give me your fucking keys.”

“I’m not—” Kyle holds up his hands to ward off another blow from Wyatt. Then he digs his keys out of his pocket and tosses them to him.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Wyatt says in a dead calm voice that stills my heart. “We’re going to get Cassidy’s shit out of your apartment, and you will not show up there for at least two hours. We’ll leave your keys inside, and you sure as shit better not show up, or I swear to you I’ll finish the job.” Wyatt starts to walk away, then turns back and crouches beside Kyle, pinning him to the ground with a dark stare.

“You were
never
good enough for her.”

(End of Sneak Peek)

To continue reading, be sure to pick up
CATCHING CASSIDY (Harborside Nights)

DEX REMINGTON WALKED into NightCaps bar beside his older brother Sage, an artist who also lived in New York City, and Regina Smith, his employee and right arm. Women turned in their direction as they came through the door, their hungry eyes raking over Dex’s and Sage’s wide shoulders and muscular physiques. At six foot four, Sage had two inches on Dex, and with their striking features, dark hair, and federal-blue eyes, heads spun everywhere they went. But after Dex had worked thirty of the last forty-eight hours, women were the furthest thing from his mind. His four-star-general father had ingrained hard work and dedication into his head since he was old enough to walk, and no matter how much he rued his father’s harsh parenting, following his lead had paid off. At twenty-six, Dex was one of the country’s leading PC game designers and the founder of Thrive Entertainment, a multimillion-dollar gaming corporation. His father had taught him another valuable lesson—how to become numb—making it easy for him to disconnect from the women other men might find too alluring to ignore.

Dex was a stellar student. He’d been numb for a very long time.

“Thanks for squeezing in a quick beer with me,” he said to Sage. They had about twenty minutes to catch up before his scheduled meeting with Regina and Mitch Anziano, another of his Thrive employees. They were going to discuss the game they were rolling out in three weeks,
World of Thieves II
.

“You’re kidding, right? I should be saying that to you.” Sage threw his arm around Dex’s shoulder. They had an ongoing rivalry about who was the busiest, and with Sage’s travel and gallery schedule and Dex working all night and getting up midday, it was tough to pick a winner.

“Thrive!” Mitch hollered from the bar in his usual greeting. Mitch used
Thrive!
to greet Dex in bars the way others used,
Hey.
He lifted his glass, and a smile spread across his unshaven cheeks. At just over five foot eight with three-days’ beard growth trailing down his neck like fur and a gut that he was all too proud of, he was what the world probably thought all game designers looked like. And worth his weight in gold. Mitch could outprogram anyone, and he was more loyal than a golden retriever.

Regina lifted her chin and elbowed Dex. “He’s early.” She slinked through the crowded bar, pulling Dex along behind her. Her Levi’s hung low, cinched across her protruding hip bones by a studded black leather belt. Her red hoodie slipped off one shoulder, exposing the colorful tattoos that ran across her shoulder and down her arms.

Mitch and Regina had been Dex’s first employees when he’d opened his company. Regina handled the administrative aspects of the company, kept the production schedule, monitored the program testing, and basically made sure nothing slipped through the cracks, while Mitch, like Dex, conceptually and technically designed games with the help of the rest of Thrive’s fifty employees—developers, testers, and a host of programmers and marketing specialists.

Regina climbed onto the barstool beside Mitch and lifted his beer to her lips.

“Order ours yet?” she asked with a glint in her heavily lined dark eyes. She ran her hand through her stick-straight, jet-black hair.

Dex climbed onto the stool beside her as the bartender slid beers in front of him and Regina. “Thanks, Jon. Got a brew for my brother?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” Sage said. “Hey, Mitch. Good to see you.”

Mitch lifted his beer with a nod of acknowledgment.

Dex took a swig of the cold ale, closed his eyes, and sighed, savoring the taste.

“Easy, big boy. We need you sober if you wanna win a GOTY.” Mitch took a sip of Regina’s beer. “Fair’s fair.”

Regina rolled her eyes and reached a willowy arm behind him, then mussed his mop of curly dark hair. “We’re gonna win Game of the Year no matter what. Reviewers love us. Right, Dex?”

Thrive had already produced three games, one of which,
World of Thieves
, had made Dex a major player in the gaming world—and earned him millions of dollars. His biggest competitor, KI Industries, had changed the release date for their new game. KI would announce the new date publicly at midnight, and since their game was supposed to be just as hot of a game as they expected
World of Thieves II
to be, if they released close to the release for
World of Thieves II
, there would be a clear winner and a clear loser. Dex had worked too hard to be the loser.

“That’s the hope,” Dex said. He took another swig of his beer and checked his watch. Eight forty-five and his body thought it was noon. He’d spent so many years working all night and sleeping late that his body clock was completely thrown off. He was ready for a big meal and the start of his workday. He stroked the stubble along his chin. “I worked on it till four this morning. I think I deserve a cold one.”

Sage leaned in to him. “You’re not nervous about the release, are you?”

Of his five siblings—including Dex’s twin sister, Siena, Sage knew him best. He was the quintessential artist, with a heart that outweighed the millions of dollars his sculptures had earned him. He’d supported Dex through the years when Dex needed to bend an ear, and when he wasn’t physically nearby, Sage was never farther than a text or a phone call away.

“Nah. If it all fails, I’ll come live with you.” Dex had earned enough money off of the games he’d produced that he’d never have to worry about finances again, but he wasn’t in the gaming business for the money. He’d been a gamer at heart since he was able to string coherent thoughts together, or at least it felt that way. “What’s happening with the break you said you wanted to take? Are you going to Jack’s cabin?” Their eldest brother Jack owned a cabin in the Colorado Mountains. Jack was an ex–Special Forces officer and a survival-training guide, and he and his fiancée Savannah spent most weekends at the cabin. Living and working in the concrete jungle didn’t offer the type of escape Sage’s brain had always needed.

“I’ve got another show or two on the horizon; then I’ll take time off. But I think I want to do something useful with my time off. Find a way to, I don’t know, help others instead of sitting around on my ass.” He sipped his beer and tugged at the neck of his Baja hippie jacket. “How ’bout you? Any plans for vacay after the release?”

“Shit. You’re kidding, right? My downtime is spent playing at my work. I love it. I’d go crazy sitting in some cabin with no connectivity to the real world.”

“The right woman might change your mind.” Sage took a swig of his beer.

“Dex date?” Regina tipped her glass to her lips. “Do you even know your brother? He might hook up once in a while, but this man protects his heart like it carries all of the industry secrets.”

“Can we not go there tonight?” Dex snapped. He had a way of remembering certain moments of his life with impeccable clarity, some of which left scars so deep he could practically taste them every damn day of his life. He nurtured the hurt and relished in the joy of the scars, as his artistic and peace-seeking mother had taught him. But Dex was powerless against his deepest scar, and numbing his heart was the only way he could survive the memory of the woman he loved walking away from him four years earlier without so much as a goodbye.

“Whoa, bro. Just a suggestion,” Sage said. “You can’t replace what you never had.”

Dex shot him a look.

Regina spun on her chair and then swung her arm over Dex’s shoulder. “Incoming,” she whispered.

Dex looked over his shoulder and met the stare of two hot blondes. His shoulders tensed and he sighed.

“It’s not gonna kill you to make a play for one of them, Dex. Work off some of that stress.” Sage glanced back at the women.

“No, thanks. They’re all the same.” Ever since the major magazines had carried the story about Dex’s success, he’d been hounded by ditzy women who thought all he wanted to talk about was PC games.

Regina leaned in closer and whispered, “Not them. Fan boys, two o’clock.”

Thank God
.

“Hey, aren’t you Dex Rem?” one of the boys asked.

Dex wondered if they were in college or if they had abandoned their family’s dreams for them in lieu of a life of gaming. It was the crux of his concern about his career. He was getting rich while feeding society’s desire to be couch potatoes.

“Remington, yeah, that’s me,” he said, wearing a smile like a costume, becoming the relaxed gamer his fans craved.

“Dude,
World of Thieves
is the most incredible game ever! Listen, you ever need any beta testers, we’re your guys.” The kid nodded as his stringy bangs bounced into his eyes. His friend’s jaw hung open, struck dumb by meeting Dex, another of Dex’s pet peeves. He was just a guy who worked hard at what he loved, and he believed anyone could accomplish the same level of success if they only put forth the effort. Damn, he hated how much that belief mirrored his father’s teachings.