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Chapter Three

LYNAE

My body aches in places it’s never before. I wish I could have woken up with him. My heart actually hurts the further I get away from him, and for lying to him about this being something more than sex.

It can only ever be sex between us.

I drive out of town and make it to Phoenix before the sandpaper dryness in my eyes forces me to pull over. I check into another motel and take a shower, washing Ryker from my body.

There’s a hickey on my breast and a couple of love bites along my neck and stomach. There is also a huge hickey on my thigh near my tattoo. I wash my body, immediately missing his scent of leather, the outdoors, and musk. I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself. I walk to the bedroom, climb into bed, and fall asleep cuddled up to his shirt I stole. I didn’t want to put on my dress, and since he kept my panties, it felt only fair.

A couple of hours later, I’m woken up to my phone ringing. I roll over and answer it.

“Hello.”

“Lynae, it’s Clive.” Part of me wanted it to be Ryker, but I never gave him my number.

“Yes, Mr. Merchant ,” I respond to my grammy’s attorney. He flew in after she died and has been in Tucson since. I tried to talk him into returning home, but he told me my grammy would haunt him the rest of his days if he left me alone.

“I’m sorry to report your apartment and storage unit were vandalized.”

“Dang it.” I roll out of bed, and the towel drops from my body. I move around the room naked and stop when I catch my reflection in the mirror. Ryker’s fingerprints and love bites are more prominent now that time has passed. He made sure to leave his mark. “I’m on my way.”

I head out, returning to the hell of my life in Tucson.

When I pull up to the apartment my grammy rented for both of us, I find her attorney waiting for me. He walks over and wraps me in a hug.

“Most everything was destroyed. Furniture, clothes, and some recent pictures. It’s a good thing we had most of your memories in the other storage unit under my name. Not only was the apartment hit, but so was the unit that had all of your furniture from Sayler.”

His words stop me. Who would do this? Besides us and the Benedicts, no one knew about these places.

“Could it have—” I stop.

“I thought of that already,” he says, knowing where my thoughts were leading. “We can ask, and I’ll have the sheriff ask, but it’s not going to look good.”

“I know, but she threatened me after she assaulted me.”

“I know.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and we both wait until the sheriff’s department tells us we can go check out the damage.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“It was good.” That reminds me, I need to make a stop at the pharmacy.

When they finally let us into the apartment, I could cry. Everything is ruined. I’m going to have very little to move. It’s a good thing the house in Prominence Point is furnished.

Two weeks later, we’re all sitting in the courtroom. I’m tired of court motions. Attorneys. The Benedicts. All of it. I’ve had to move into the same hotel Clive is staying in after the apartment manager evicted me. He didn’t want me staying there any longer after everything was settled. Sayler’s parents are practically trying to run me out of town. If it weren’t for my job, I would leave now, but I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. So here I am, waiting for this to finally be over. For me to be free of the Benedicts.

I try not to squirm in my seat as Sayler’s parents sit across the aisle from me. When the bailiff finally calls for all to rise, I stand up, and in walks the judge we’ve been working with for a year now.

The Benedicts have filed so many motions over the last two weeks, trying to drag out this marriage, but I’m not giving up. I’m no longer going to put up with being tied to that crazy train of a family.

Grammy and I worked too hard for my freedom to let them get me back now.

“I understand that no agreement has been reached,” the judge says as he looks over the paperwork.

“No, sir,” Clive and the Benedicts’ attorney say in unison.

“I see that Ms. Amberley tried artificial insemination as part of the prenup, and you still won’t allow for the divorce, Mr. Pikard?” The judge turns to the Benedicts’ attorney.

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