Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3) (26 page)

“No, I don’t
want you to leave,” I tell her with exasperation as I take her
hands. “I want to talk about you staying… forever, if
you want.”

“Staying?”
she asks carefully. “You mean more than just here at the
apartment with you?”

I don’t
answer her directly but rather turn back to where we had left things
at the Snake River Brewery before I’d got called away by
Tarryn. “You told me tonight that you were afraid that I was
going to wake up one day and realize you’re not the person I’d
want to give the time of day to.”

She nods, lips
pursed in an ashamed grimace.

“Well, my
fears are a little different,” I tell her as I press forward.
“I’m afraid I’m going to wake up one day and you’ll
be gone because I didn’t make the bold move to tell you how I’m
feeling. I know you said you’re afraid you can’t give me
what I’m expecting, and the ironic thing is, you already give
me that and so much more, and you don’t even realize it.”

“Rand,”
she says, and she sounds desperate. Her face is pale and she looks
decidedly uncomfortable, but I decide to push forward.

“I’m
crazy about you, Cat,” I tell her firmly, looking her dead in
the eye. “That call tonight from Lorelei was my wake-up call
and I realized I was not ready to lose you in any fashion. I’m
falling in love with you and I’m sorry if that makes you
uncomfortable, but you need to know for a woman who doesn’t
think she amounts to much, you’re pretty much amounting to my
everything.”

Cat blinks at me,
her eyes getting shiny. “You
don’t mean that.”

“I do and one
day, you’ll believe it too,” I tell her with utter
confidence.

“I don’t
know if I can love,” she whispers fearfully. “I mean…
look at what I know of it. A cold, derelict mother who only wants to
use me and a dead husband who got off on humiliating me… a
father who abandoned me. I don’t know what it even means to
care for someone.”

“That’s
bullshit, Cat, and you know it,” I tell her. “The mere
fact you’re worried about not giving me what I need tells me
you care for me. Hell, the fact that you were more worried about how
Tarryn was tonight than yourself tells me that you’ve got a
heart the size of this state.”

She blinks at me
again, and I can see she’s
confused. She even shakes her head in silent denial, opens her mouth
to do the same, and then seems to reconsider because she closes it
just as quickly. Her gaze slides over to my bookshelf that holds
photographs of me competing and with my family. It tells of a happy,
fulfilled life surrounded by people who love and care for me.

And then she totally
changes the subject.

At least I think
it’s
a change of subject.

“If Kevin did
this… hired someone to kill me, do you think that’s
something within his very makeup or was it learned behavior from
maybe his father… to sort of take what you want?”

Well, shit. That’s
a deep as hell question and I don’t know much about Kevin or
Samuel. She has to have a reason for asking it, but I’m not
sure what she’s looking for, so I’m a little hesitant
when I say, “I have to believe that his father’s
influence played a role. His father pretty much taught him he could
have what he wanted without working for it. You’re the example
of that. He let that shit have you… someone beautiful,
amazing, and totally beyond his reach, and he just handed you over
without his son even earning the right to breathe the same air as
you.”

She nods, gaze
coming back to me. “I
think that’s probably true. Although Richard doesn’t seem
to have that same entitlement.”

“Or maybe he’s
involved in this with Kevin and we just don’t know it,” I
point out.

“Also true,”
she says softly, and then changes subjects again. “I wonder
what type of influence my father would have been on me. You know, if
he’d have stuck around… been involved in my life.”

“You don’t
know that he abandoned you,” I say carefully, so she’s
not making conclusions about a situation she truly knows nothing
about.

“That’s
what my mom says,” she says bitterly. “But I can never
trust what she says, so who knows?”

“Well, you
didn’t have very good role models in your life,” I tell
her, as this is something I am sure about. “And yet, you’re
still an incredibly caring and empathetic woman, so I’m going
to have to say that part is inside of you somehow. Maybe that’s
part of your dad.”

Her smile softens,
lips curved in a wistful arc while her eyes get dreamy. “You
know… if I get money from Samuel’s estate, I think I’m
going to try to find my dad. It may be a chase after nothing, but it
seems the right thing to do if I were to have a windfall of some
sort.”

“That
inheritance is not a windfall,” I remind her. “It’s
your due under the law as his wife. And we’re going to make
sure you get every penny.”

She nods with
another smile, and then yawns. It’s
my cue that this deep conversation is over for now. While that part
of me that is dying for her to admit her feelings for me wants to
bully her into it, I think enough has been said tonight to at least
make her think. She knows that this is more than just casual for me,
so now I really just need to sit back and let her try to figure
things out.

Cat

I walk into The Silo
with my head held high but my palms sweating fiercely. While my head
tells me this is a good idea, my heart is already hurting in
anticipation of what Rand will think.

It’s
been four days since I was attacked and things have not gotten any
clearer to me. In fact, I feel like I’m struggling to stay
afloat in muddied waters.

Detective Blanton
brought Kevin in for questioning the very next morning. According to
the detective, Kevin acted shocked he was being questioned in
relation to the attack and of course, denied any involvement. He was
released after two hours of being grilled and maintaining a
consistent refusal to admit to hiring someone to kill me.

This was
frustrating, especially because the detective told me he didn’t
buy Kevin’s innocent act for a moment. He had asked Kevin about
the supposed will he claimed cut me out, and after a lot of hemming
and hawing on his part, he did finally admit there wasn’t
another will. He said he didn’t believe I deserved anything and
that’s the reason why he said there was. He didn’t even
act abashed that he kicked me out of my home on a lie.

This of course
raised a huge, red flag to the detective and has motivated him to
push harder to find my attacker, who could then possibly turn on
Kevin.

The other thing that
happened was Richard called me that evening, as apparently he’d
been questioned by the detective via telephone immediately after
Kevin was. If I can believe him, and I think I can, Richard was
appalled that Kevin claimed there was another will and used that to
kick me out of the house. He confirmed for me what Bridger had
revealed just four days ago.

I was going to get
five million dollars, the Jackson house, and apparently yearly
profits in the amount of ten percent. Richard didn’t
seem put out in the slightest. The best thing that happened was he
assured me Kevin had vacated the house today to return to Vegas and I
could move back immediately if I wanted. He also opened up a bank
account in my name and transferred some immediate funds until he
could get a larger transfer done, as well as turned my credit cards
back on, not that it mattered. I had cut those cards up days ago, as
I didn’t want anything reminding me that I was once Catherine
Vaughn. I even went and got a new Wyoming driver’s license with
my maiden name of Lyons, although I hadn’t decided whether or
not to stay here.

About the only thing
I have decided is that Rand has become important enough to me that
I’ve
decided to cut him loose.

I know he has faith
in me.

I know he sees
something within me that I just can’t
seem to recognize myself.

I know, without a
doubt, that he believes we could have something solid and long
lasting between us.

Unfortunately, I
just don’t
believe that.

While it warmed me
down to my toes when he told me that he was crazy about me and was
falling in love with me, cold reality soon settled in as I lay in his
arms that night. I thought about all the things that make me a
wretched human being and felt myself growing colder on the inside, a
slithering cloud of blackness filling me up.

I’m
a woman who let dozens of men fuck me.

Defile me.

Humiliate me.

I let my husband
force me to have sex with people who were as vile and disgusting as
he was.

I let him make me
have sex with his own son, for God’s
sake.

I sat there like a
doormat and took that abuse for years, and why did I do it?

Because the money
and having a place to live was more important than my self-respect.
At any time, I could have walked out that door and gone back to
stripping. It may not have been the best life, but it was an honest
one, and I could have gotten right back up on that stage and been
able to support myself just fine.

But if I’m
being absolutely honest with myself, and reflecting on the true
nature of myself so I can decide what to do about Rand, then I have
to admit I was perfectly willing to let myself be defiled and
humiliated so I could keep the fancy house, Mercedes, and designer
clothing. I whored myself out for a cushy life and that right there
tells me all I need to know about my true character.

And that is not
someone who would ever be worthy of Rand Bishop.

The only problem was
that I didn’t
know how to go about breaking it off. We spent the weekend together
just hanging out in the apartment, fucking constantly. It was
desperately pathetic on my part because I wanted to hold onto the
physical pleasure with him just a little bit longer, knowing that
there would never be another man comparable to him in my bed. It goes
without saying there will never be another who is comparable in my
heart either. Since I’m being honest about all the terrible
things that make up Cat Lyons, I can also be truthful and admit I do
love Rand. I love him enough to make sure he does far better than me.

All weekend, Rand
was careful in his words with me, preferring to take more of a
backseat when it came to talking about the future or feelings. I
think he was giving me “space”
to come to the same conclusions he did, but all I realized is that
while I cared for him more than anything in this world, I was nowhere
near good enough for him.

I simply don’t
deserve him.

He absolutely
doesn’t deserve a woman like me.

We both went back to
work on Monday as usual—him to the tattoo shop and me to the
Hayes’
campaign headquarters—and it killed me to come home last night
to find he made dinner for us. It was the perfect picture of
domesticity, and it made me realize I could not let his hope continue
to build.

So when I got up
this morning for work, I knew I needed to send a decisive message to
him that I was most certainly not the one for him. The note on the
kitchen table telling him I was spending the evening at The Silo
should do the trick, even though I’m
sick to my stomach about it.

I need to stay
strong. This is the best way…
to remind him of who I am deep down so he can realize his heart is
being wasted on someone like me.

Walking up to the
bar, I glance around at the patrons. I should just choose someone,
fuck him fast, and get it over with. That will, for me at least, cut
the ties to Rand. Once I’m
with someone else, I know it’s over.

Instead, I decide to
order a drink to calm my nerves. I take a seat at the bar and order a
glass of wine, sipping on it while contemplating how much my life
sucks at this moment. Two men approach me, but I decline the
invitation. I tell myself I’m
enjoying my wine and want to finish it first, although truthfully, I
don’t even know what kind I’m sipping.

“Odd…
seeing you here,” I hear from behind me and recognize the
gravel-like timber to Bridger’s voice. I don’t even
bother to look at him as he takes the seat next to me.

“Why’s
that?” I ask blandly.

“You’ve
been absent for a while… you and Rand wrapped up in each
other. It’s just odd you’re here now. Without him.”

I shrug and still
don’t
look at him.

A sip of wine.

Staring blankly at
the bar top.

“I talked to
my buddy, Kyle,” Bridger says in a low voice, thankfully
leaving the subject of Rand and me alone. “He was noncommittal
on whether he could identify the guy based on the description. I sort
of got the impression he was going to poke around and find out what
he could before he decides if he’s going to help.”

“What does
that mean?” I ask as I swivel my stool so I’m facing
Bridger.

“It means that
if the hit on you was brought before the club and sanctioned, Kyle
won’t tell me shit. But if this was a rogue act, he might give
us a tip in the right direction.”

“Oh,” I
say in disappointment as I swivel back to face the bar. I know
Kevin’s not going to roll over on anything, and that the only
way to pin him to this is by finding the guy who tried to carry out
the order, hoping he gives Kevin up for a plea deal or something. It
sounds to me as if that’s probably not going to happen, which
is a cause for concern. It means I’m still vulnerable and
although Richard has given me assurances, I think Kevin is a bit on
the sociopathic side. I wouldn’t put it past him to continue to
come after me.

“So this is
it, huh?” he prods. “You’re making the break from
him?”

So much for him
leaving the subject of Rand and me alone. Gaze goes to my wine…
wish I had about three of these in me right now. “It’s
the right thing to do. He deserves better than me.”