Page 37 of Cold Carnage

"Does he know?" Ryker pressed.

I pressed my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. The silence stretched between us, tautand suffocating. Memories I had buried long ago bubbled to the surface, unbidden and unwelcome.

That night.

It had been before Brendan, before I knew who Ryker truly was. He had come to speak at the college, and I was just an eager intern in the sports management program at U of M.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But even now, I couldn’t forget how he felt, how he swept me off my feet with his confidence and raw magnetism. He had been my first.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice low and cold.

Sometimes, I wished he would scream.

“I…” My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard. The reasons I fled from Brendan twisted in my mind like a knife. Promises whispered in the dark, secrets sworn to be kept. Family was everything, Brendan always said.

And me? I was just a one-night stand for Ryker, a notch on his bedpost. And I wasn't family to Brendan. I was a serious girlfriend, sure, but I wasn't his brother. I wasn't blood.

And that was fine until I started dating Brendan. By the time I realized Ryker was his brother, it was too late. There was no way I would come between them. So, I wasn’t going to tell. And Ryker? When we met again, he didn’t even seem to recognize me.

“You remember that night?” My voice came out steadier than I felt inside.

Ryker’s eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe? It vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual guarded expression.

“Don't be stupid.” His words were clipped, almost mechanical. "I remember."

My heart pounded in my chest as silence enveloped us once more. The air felt thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

“What does it matter now?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded in the vast emptiness of the office. "Why I left. I left. That's it."

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “It matters because…,” he paused as if searching for the right words but ultimately shook his head. “You’re hiding something.”

“And you’re not?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

His jaw tightened again, but this time there was something else—pain? Regret? It was gone before I could be sure.

“We all have our secrets,” he muttered, finally breaking eye contact and turning away slightly. “Just don’t let yours ruin everything.”

I stood there for a moment longer, trying to decipher what he meant by that last statement. But as usual with Ryker Kane, clarity remained just out of reach.

“Is that why you’re asking about Brendan?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Maybe I need to know if you cheated on him with that coach?—”

“And even if I did, why would you care?”

“Because he’s my brother?—”

“The brother you never speak to?” My voice rose, the frustration bubbling over. “I was with him for eighteen months, Ryker. You saw him maybe three times.”

“He’s still my brother,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl.

“Fine.” I threw my hands up. “Then let it be.”

“Would that I could,” he muttered, his eyes flicking to the side. “He saw the press conference. He wants to see you.”

Fear gripped me, a cold shiver running down my spine. I straightened, forcing myself to stay composed.

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