Page 62 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

“Emma, let me—” I say, but she’s already shaking her head, backing away.

"No," she says, and with that one word, it feels like I’ve lost her for good. She spins on her heel and strides out, leaving nothing but silence and pain in her wake.

Alex meets my gaze. “I'm sorry, I just couldn't keep it in anymore.”

“You lied to me.” There’s really nothing else to say. I don’t need to remind him that he told me he wanted to invest in the loan shark’s dealings. I don’t need to point out that he told me not to tell Emma because she wouldn’t agree with club funds being invested that way.

And I sure as hell don’t need to tell him that he might have just ruined everything for me and Emma, the woman I love, who loves me.

Or loved.

Now that love might have shifted back to hate...

...right where it started.

Chapter Twenty-five

Emma

I turn the key in my door and the lock clicks. The door swings open, and I step into the quiet of my apartment.

It swallows me whole.

There’s just me... and the silence.

“I guess that’s that,” I say to the walls, but they don’t respond. Memories fill my mind, his laughter—a rich, warm sound that makes me smile.

I drop my keys on the counter, the clatter loud in the stillness. I half expect Lila to call out from the couch, teasing me about being jumpy. But there's nothing. Not her, not Kade. No Kade leaning against the doorway with that smirk, the one that says he knows exactly how to unsettle me.

“I need to stop thinking about him,” I whisper, hugging myself tight.

Now I’m alone.

“I should've known better than to trust either of them,” I say to the room. To them. To myself.

But there's just a gaping hole in my chest, a pain where they should be.

I pace the length of my living room. The confrontation with Kade and Alex replays in my head, sharp as shards of glass that slice me to the bone. I see myself turning away from them, feel the sting of tears that threatened but never fell as I left the club. The club that might go under, thanks to Alex. What had he done?

My fingers trace the back of the sofa where Kade and I snuggled, and I can see him in my mind’s eye, his arm thrown over the backrest, dark eyes following me with a mix of challenge and amusement. I exhale, feeling pain lancing through my center.

“Emma Riley, pull it together.” It's not just anger that knots in my stomach; it's longing, too. For his teasing voice, his infuriating grin, the heat that radiated from him whenever we talked. I thought we had a future and now I don’t know.

“Damn you, Kade.” I collapse onto the couch, burying my face in my hands.

Tears sting in my eyes, and they wet my palms and fingers. Curling into myself, I pull my knees to my chest, sinking into the comfort of my couch. But there’s no comfort now. Just an ache I want to get rid of.

The apartment feels too big, the silence too loud. I dig out my markers and my mini canvases. And I focus on lines, on creating a cat face with an expression that matches my mood exactly. As I detail the image, I can’t help but be a smart ass and write, still alive, unfortunately on the front of the image. But the humor doesn't make me smile.

I put things away, then walk back to sit on the floor, knees pulled up, staring at the rain sliding down the balcony doors. I remember that rainy night spent together, how safe and warm I felt. I’d never have believed in a million years that all of this would have fallen apart so spectacularly.

And something that flashed between the men fills my mind. Alex had trapped Kade into secrecy... and he’d misled Kade, too. Kade was trapped, caught in the impossible decision between love and friendship.

I lie down on my back and stare up at the ceiling, the weight of this understanding pressing down on me. How many times had I seen him hesitate, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat because they were at odds with the loyalty he owed my brother?

“Gosh, what a mess.” I breathe out, the fight draining from me. My anger toward Kade fades, replaced by a reluctant empathy. He loved Alex like a brother, but he was falling for me. How could he choose? Would I have been able to?

I toss restlessly on my bed, the sheets cold, but not the good kind of cold. I roll over and stare at the window, the anger within me lessoning to a sad resignation. Alex lied because he loves me. Can I fault him for trying to shield me from pain?

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