Page 108 of Hellbent
“Morning,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes.
The look is a completely different one than he gave me last night. No fire burning inside. A neutral, emotionless glance. The Ryder firmly behind a reinforced steel wall that I’m used to seeing.
My smile flickers, drops.
“There are bagels in the fridge,” he says, reaching for a towel and drying his hands with quiet efficiency.
I blink. “Bagels?”
“Plain and cinnamon raisin.”
He steps around me, opens the fridge, pulls out a bottled water. Doesn’t offer me one. Just cracks the seal and takes a drink, throat working. Then sets it down and moves toward the hall like he’s got somewhere to be.
Something cold slips through my chest.
“Are you…going somewhere?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m reaching for him. But I am.
He glances over his shoulder. “Got some work to do. I’ll be out back.”
“Oh.” I nod slowly, even though it doesn’t make anything clearer. “Okay. I just…I didn’t expect you to act like this.”
He pauses and turns around. There’s something unreadable in his eyes. His expression is tight and shuttered. Restrained.
“Like what?”
“Like nothing happened.”
He pauses and takes a deep breath.
And then when he speaks, he devastates me.
“You put your life in danger. I left two men for dead. We had sex. What do you want me to say?”
I flinch like he hit me.
We had sex.Third on a laundry list of items.
“That’s it?” I whisper, blinking fast. “That’s all you have to say?”
His brow twitches, and I catch a flicker of fire—there and gone—in his eyes.
“What do you want to hear, Maxwell?” he says, voice dangerously low. “You went to the one place we knew was dangerous. Alone. After we found your photo posted on a fucking bounty board. Taken at that bar.”
He shakes his head once, like he's disgusted.
“So yeah,” he adds. “Emotions ran high. Adrenaline. That’s all it was.”
He lowers his eyes and says, quieter, “We got caught up in it. It doesn’t mean anything.”
I laugh.
Not because it’s funny. But because the alternative is screaming.
“Wow,” I say, voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Adrenaline? Really?”
He doesn’t answer. His hands brace against the doorframe, and he drops his head just slightly, like he can’t even make the effort to look at me.
“You can lie to yourself if you want, but don’t stand there and tell me it didn’t mean anything.”
