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Chapter 4
Remi
Smug satisfaction fills me with being right. I should probably have some sense of compassion for everything Vander went though, but I don’t. I’ve grown, just not enough to give him what he needs right now. For some reason though, I let him keep his hold on my hand. The firm grip of it is soothing. It’s odd, but I can’t help from feeling like it’s a piece of coming home for the first time. Like I’ve been lost, waiting for him to reach out and hold my hand again.
“Can’t Vander grab the SUV so we can get the hell out of here?” I question the others. It seems like an obvious solution to me. Cole and I already discussed leaving the footage of him standing outside when the bomb went off.
“We could, but he’ll be seen and they’ll want to know why he’s taking off when the person he’s supposed to be guarding isn’t with him. Actually, you should go make a show of being out there. It will help sell the story,” Jasper announces, directing the last part toward Vander.
Frustration is clear on Vander’s face when he says, “And what story would that be?” Oh. Yeah. He missed the whole idea I rushed to share with the others. That’s what I was doing when I caught sight of him upstairs on the monitor peaking out from behind Cole’s strong shoulders.
“I faked our deaths,” I explain, pointing to Grayson, Jasper, and myself. “Cole is covering any traces of us leaving the building.”
“So who was it in your office?” Vander asks, trying to put all the pieces together.
All emotion drops from my features, a cold hardness taking over with the sudden anger I feel with the mere thought of them. “Trash that needed to be taken out,” I answer.
Confusion crosses his eyes, but I also see the decision to wait and ask about it later. “I’m not leaving her,” he objects, finally addressing the part where Jasper said he needed to handle the fall out. He inches closer to me, before losing an internal battle and pulling me against him once more. I can’t say I’m hating how he’s giving in to his desires for me right now. I knew he was hiding how much he craved to touch me.
Grayson presses against my back, sandwiching me between him and Vander. The latter shows his displeasure with a violent grunt. He’s moments away from some serious caveman behavior. Something I one hundred percent want to see, but now’s not the time. Grayson holds up a placating hand and leans into my ear. His hot breath feathers over me in the perfect angle that causes chills to run up my spine.
“Sweet cheeks, he thought he lost you. Do you remember the devastation you felt when he was shot, and you weren’t sure if he would live?” He pauses, waiting for me to answer. I give a small nod, recalling the strange sensation I never want to go through again. “Well that’s what happened to him. He wants the same reassurance you’re alive that you sought. Give him a break.”
Warring emotions grate against me. I hate that he felt the need to mansplain the situation to me. But on the other hand, his perspective does help. I can suddenly relate to what Vander’s going through. He steps away, leaving me with only Vander’s touch once more, who settles immediately.
Letting out a small sigh, I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lifts me by the hips so we’re on an even level. “I need your help to pull this off, big guy. I promise to stay in constant contact until you can meet up with us again.”
“Not enough,” he grunts.
“What else would you like then?” I counter, not really knowing what more I could offer. I’ve tapped the small amount of sympathy Grayson was able to inspire.
“I want two things. First, there will come a time when I ask you to forgive me. I need you to say yes; to not push me away no matter how much you want to. And I want you in my bed tonight,” he answers.
A warning sign goes off with his first request. He knows something is about to happen that will royally piss me the fuck off, and I don’t like knowing he hasn’t already fessed up to whatever it is. Then there’s the fact he waited till I’m in a position where I can’t really say no.
“You want to sleep next to me?” I clarify, surprised that’s something he wants, especially with how distant he’s been lately. Always hot and cold. This is simply another step toward him staying warm longer. Pretty soon I’ll get fed up with his games if he doesn’t knock it off. So far though, I’ve been distracted from it with the other men in my life, mostly planning things with Grayson and Ravenmaster for pulling off Mark’s murder.
Vander sucks in a sharp breath. “Want? No. I fucking need it. If you want me to do this, I have to keep you close tonight. If only to reassure my soul that you’re still here.”
I run my hand down his chest, feeling every dip and ridge of his muscles hidden by his clothes. “Of course. But if you’re in my bed, you have to be naked.” Can’t blame a girl for her priorities.
He rolls his eyes before narrowing them on me, a serious pinch to his glare. “It was a two part agreement, Remington. Don’t forget I know all your tricks, I’ve watched your every move for five years.” Damn. And here I thought I would distract him.
“You know I don’t like agreeing to things blindly.” I press my hands against his chest, and wiggle in his hold, trying to get him to release me. At least I try. Vander doesn’t put me down, instead his arms tighten. He rests his forehead against mine, and his eyes shutter closed. Utter defeat pulls at his lips.
“I don’t have time to tell you right now if I have to play my part in this plan of yours. The only way I’ll be able to survive being apart from you is if I know you won’t blindly push me away in your rage. Please, Reginetta. Don’t deny me this,” he whispers, trying to keep his words between the two of us. I know if any of them overhear that he’s keeping secrets, Jasper in particular, there will be hell for him to pay.
That damn fucking nickname… it pulls at something deep within me every single time he uses it. And it becomes more potent with each instance. Like whatever is reacting to it, is being pulled closer to the surface, closer to me being able to pinpoint what it means to me.
How could a nickname hold power over me? Me! The one who isn’t affected by anything, who’s… mostly emotionally dead inside. It’s disgusting.
“Fine. I won’t blindly push you away,” I reply with an exasperated sigh.
His fingers press into me so hard I know there will be bruises tomorrow. “Forgiveness, Remington,” he tries once more.
“You know I won’t agree to something I’m not sure I can give you, Vander. That’s not who I am. You have to accept the fact that I’ll take every consideration of my actions before I make them. But the way you’re going on about this is already putting me on edge. I don’t appreciate it, and quite frankly, it’s starting to irritate me. I know this isn’t the time for us to be arguing, fucking accept my answer so we can leave this godforsaken town.”
He sets me down and lets me step free of his hold. “Stay in contact. I want a text every time you reach a new location. I don’t want to be in the dark for a single second,” he commands, before striding around the building to play the distraught bodyguard.
