Page 47 of Innocent Princess

Suck it up, buttercup, I tell myself as I push out the door of the restroom.

My heart races when I'm greeted with a familiar pair of eyes. He's leaning against the opposite wall with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing a dark navy suit with a white button-up shirt. His tie is skinny and matches the suit. I drink him in but can't help wondering what he's doing here. My eyes travel up his body, chest, and then land on his face. He's freshly shaved, no five o'clock shadow in sight. His hair is a bit on the shaggy side, but it suits him.

His chocolate brown eyes are intense as they stare me down. I had stopped walking, so I force myself to take a few steps toward him. Forcing myself not to run into his arms hurts more than I expected. I've been worried sick about him, but also mad as hell. I didn't expect to want to fling myself into his arms at my first sight of him in two weeks.

"Blondie, you look... you look absolutely stunning." His voice, while music to my soul, forges time into hooks and draws me to him.

"Ryker. You're here," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears prick at the back of my eyes, but I fight against them.

"Want to come a little closer? You're kind of blocking the hallway." Laughter dances in his eyes, and I snap my head to the side. A few couples try to make their way around us.

I mutter an apology and walk closer to Ryker. He starts to reach for me but drops his hand at my subtle head shake. I need answers, and I won't be able to think straight if he's touching me.

"Where have you been, Ryker?" I gather my courage and fight through my desire to jump him right here and now.

"It's a long story." He smiles sadly.

"I've got time."

"Do you want to do this somewhere else? Maybe later? After a dance or two?" He doesn't look like he's trying to get out of explaining. He’s facing me, I hold all of his attention, and he has all of mine. So I don't miss his hand ball into a fist after he starts to reach for me.

My eyes dart around the hallway right outside the restroom, which isn't the best place for a reunion and interrogation.

Without hesitation, he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him back toward The Glass Room. I follow on his heels, but he doesn't stop when we get to the giant double doors, he keeps walking. The hallway is relatively empty, but we walk just a bit further until there are no other people within earshot.

Coming to a stop, I drop his hand. Control, I need to keep it, and I cross my arms across my chest and ask again, "Where have you been?”

He nods, readying himself for his explanation.

"Before I start, please know I can't tell you everything, but I will not lie to you. I'll tell you everything I possibly can, but I might not be able to share every detail." He's more serious than I've ever seen him. Suddenly, I'm scared for him, and my relief at him being here morphs into worry.

I nod; concern must show all over my face because he lifts his hand and gently strokes his thumb down my cheek.

"Blondie, it's okay. Everything fine now."

I bite back a whimper, from both his words and his touch.

"Right before you asked me to help you find your parents, I was contacted for a job. It was big. Huge! The payout was more than I've ever received, but the risk was just as big. This job was different than anything I've done before, and I didn't know if I wanted to go down that road, but after I started working on finding Fred and Anna, I decided I wasn't interested in the other job, so I turned it down. Well, fast forward to the day we got back from our trip to Texas, the reason why Wells was trying to get a hold of me was because the Feds were looking for me."

I gasp.

Then he launches into what happened and why he couldn’t reach out to me.

“I asked my uncle to reach out to Wells to let you all know I was fine, but I'm starting to think it was never relayed to you."

I shake my head. "No, it sure wasn’t."

He mutters a swear under his breath. He reaches for my hand and clasps it in his own. "Zella, I tried to contact you so many times, but I wasn't allowed. It killed me nearly every day. I couldn't talk to you, and not knowing if you knew drove me fucking insane."

Tears threaten to fall, but I hold them back. Looking up into his face, I ask what's been gnawing at the back of my mind. "Were you in jail?"

He gives me a half-smile. "No, but it sure as hell felt like it. After a few days, after they had proof I didn't fuck up this hack job, they admitted they never thought it was me, but wanted to get as much information as they could. They also wanted me to help them take down the organization that was behind the job. They held the fact that they knew all about my past jobs over my head, gave me no choice really, but I helped. They kept me under lock and key while I worked with their guys to identify the players. Once that was done, I was free to go."

"What about all the past jobs? What happens now that they know what you've been up to?"

He chuckles. "Apparently, they've wiped my slate clean. Told me to stay out of trouble."

I think about everything he just shared. It's crazy and doesn't feel real, but I know crazier things happen in this world. I know he wouldn't lie to me.

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