Page 9 of Finding Our Reality

Damn right, it isn’t over.

I stand at the door, watching which way she walks. Unfortunately, there’s about to be someone else getting an even bigger headache than me.

Marcum’s loving smile to his de facto daughter dies the second he sees the look on her face. I prop open the door and lean out, eager to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“What the hell, Marcum? Did you ever plan on telling me he was back? How could you keep that from me?”

“I have a rule—I don’t talk to him about you, and I don’t talk to you about him.”

She tosses her hands in the air. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I didn’t even know there was ahimuntil ten minutes ago!”

Marcum reaches out and rubs his hand on her upper arm. She snatches it away. “And you gave away Carrie’s case? All those times I asked you about it, and you just said there was nothing new?”

“That was true. There was nothing new,isnothing new. Hasn’t been for quite some time.” He pulls at his belt. “And while we are on the topic of keeping secrets from each other, you care to explain the drugs to me? Carrie using and selling? You kept that from me. From Ray and Teresa. You’ve been keeping your fair share of secrets for the past twelve years and we’ve all sat back twiddling our thumbs waiting on you to speak the truth. To us—your family.”

She’s taken aback. Her voice lowers. “They know about that? Everyone knows about the drugs?Youknow about that?”

“Of course, I know about it. He’s a deputy, Ella. He’s sworn to tell the truth. But he told us about the drugs long before he became an officer.”

“What are you talking about?”

Marcum shakes his head. “That’s not for me to tell you. It’s his case. And he’s done an excellent job at working with whatlittle information he has. It sounds like you and Crutch have some talking to do.”

She shakes her head, slumping her shoulders. “But years, Marcum. He’s been back here for what—nearly six years—and you never told me?”

“This past fall was eight years, actually.”

“Over eight years! What are you saying? The Marines discharged him early? Why on earth would they do that?”

“It was a medical discharge.”

I prickle, growing uncomfortable with the information that Marcum is sharing. I push open the door and step outside, letting him see me, alerting him to my presence. Even from here, I can hear the slight quiver in her voice, and it breaks my empty heart in two, making me feel something that I promised myself I would never feel again.

“Medical discharge? But he’s fine. I just saw him.” She turns around, expecting to see only the building. She sees me instead, standing sentry on the front walkway.

Hiding her feelings and the need for answers, she pulls her shoulders back and stomps away.

Chapter 4

ELLA

It’s very stinky.

Is it supposed to smell this bad?

I lift the Long Island Iced Tea to my nose and sniff again. I stifle a cough and place it back down on the sleek wooden bar in front of me. Cullen notices and asks if I need anything. Who knew Ridge’s little brother would grow up to be so damn sexy? If only I were a couple of years younger.

I chuckle under my breath. Then what? I would date him? Be with him? Close my eyes and pretend his touch is someone else’s? I did that for too many years and it didn’t end so well.

I can’t believe Ry is here. In town. Working with Marcum. Working on my sister’s case. The whole thing is freakin’ unbelievable. I can’t believe Marcum lied to me. It makes no sense. Why would he do that? I wish I had given in to the urge to web search Ry’s name. Multiple times over the years, I started to do it, but each time I quickly deleted his name and tried to wipe his face from my memory. Now, I wish I had done it. At least, I could have been mentally and emotionally prepared for today.

Words can’t describe what went through my mind when I heard his voice. Before I got angry, it tickled my senses. Pure euphoria flowed through me. Delicious. Sweet. Orgasmic. Warm life poured into my dead body, and for a brief moment, I forgot all the pain and heartache of being without him, of surviving what I survived, of losing every person in my life so quickly.

But then I remembered.

I remembered the pain. The horror. The trauma. And I remembered that I will never forgive him. For leaving me, for making that decision for the both of us.

I run my fingertips across my lips, spreading my lip gloss, thinking. But, damn, if he didn’t look good. Time has morphed the boy into the man. Sensitive parts of my body swell just picturing him. His hair is styled a little shorter now, and the color is a shade darker. His pale green eyes are still the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen, almost translucent and trimmed in an almost-black hunter green. His shoulders are broader. His forearms are corded with thicker muscle, making the veins pop and protrude. He’s tall and firm and wonderfully glorious. And based on the way that receptionist girl jumped to his rescue, his extra-large dick must still be in fine operating order.

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