Page 37 of Without Fail

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” After a brief smile, he left her there with her attendant and jogged down the stairs.

That day, the greenhouse was where he had ended up. Sinking down onto the cast-iron bench his grandfather had built for his grandmother, he pressed a hand to his forehead.

“It’s a great place to escape.”

His head snapped up. Seeing his father’s new bodyguard and the man who’d rescued him brought a small smile twitching his lips. The attraction he felt flared to the surface.

“I think that’s why my grandfather had this built. It was the only place he and my grandmother could get away from the…” He waved a hand around.

“Chaos?” Marshal had smiled and a dimple flashed. The man kept the mustache and beard on his face trimmed short, otherwise Ryker would have missed the small sexy indentation.

“And then some,” he agreed with a laugh and sighed, glancing around. “Nobody’s been in here for years but me.”

“Well then, I’ll keep your secret.”

“Not afraid of my father?” He couldn’t help the taunt. Most people who worked for his dad had their heads so far up the man’s ass, they couldn’t see daylight.

“No.”

The word was so simply spoken that it surprised Ryker. It rang of truth and he wondered what made Marshal so confident. Where other people quaked in the face of Robert Langston, Marshal appeared to not give a fuck.

He had instantly liked that about the guy.

Ryker waved a finger between him and Marshal. “We are on the same page.”

Marshal’s low chuckle filled the room and Ryker found himself sharing a smile. “My grandfather would have liked you.”

The next day, the wedding was called off and his father never spoke of it or the Barclays again.

That same bench was where he sank to now.

He felt so unsettled knowing that Marshal was in a relationship and had kids. He blinked at the sting in his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling where ivy had grown, taking over.

Sure, Marshal had gotten numerous phone calls through the years and several of them had been from kids, but Ryker had never put two and two together.

He’d even gone so far as to ask Marshal once a handful of years ago and he clearly recalled the incident.

He’d come upon Marshal entering through the front door with the phone to his ear and Ryker heard the high-pitched voice of a child.

“Who’s that?” he’d asked when Marshal ended the call.

“Just a friend’s kid.” Marshal had brushed it off and Ryker hadn’t questioned the response.

He’d trusted Marshal’s word.

The main reason he’d believed the man back then was because he felt sure Marshal wouldn’t lie to him.

He had been so stupid.

Fuck.

Mist sprayed out, drifting on the air, adding to the scent of plants and potted dirt. There had been so many times he’d sat in here with Marshal talking about everything under the sun, but nothing about the man’s family.

Because he’d assumed that Marshal had been single.

He felt fucking betrayed.

Marshal was…

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