Page 89 of Just Forever

I’d argue it is since we filed for a confidential marriage license, so this information should absolutely not be available to random people. I mean, we flew to freaking California and then found some weird tiny town in the ass crack of nowhere to get married expressly for the purpose of keeping this thing to ourselves. The fuck?

I debate arguing about it, but in the long run, does it even matter?

I carefully fold the certificate and place it back on the table.

“You can pay some minions of yours to find out stuff. Good for you,” I say as calmly as I can. “And?”

He eyes me with something that almost looks like pity. He taps his forefinger on the folded certificate. “Think of this as insurance. We both have something we’d rather keep to ourselves. Talk to a reporter, and so will I. An up-and-coming NHL player married to his own brother. Sounds like something that would make a splash if spun correctly. And, kid? I will spin it correctly.”

I’ve never been more tempted to punch somebody. My nails dig into my palm. The pain of betrayal has long come and gone, leaving behind only helpless rage, and I’m dying to act on it. Holding on by a thread.

But then my eyes land on the sheet of paper on the table, and it’s like a bucket of cold water.

Scott’s eyes are still on me, studying my every reaction, lips quirked in apparent amusement. Or maybe that’s plain old satisfaction.

He’s getting what he wants.

And I can’t stand the sight of his smug face a second longer.

“Go fuck yourself.” I turn around and walk away.

LAKE

It takesme forever to stop after I’ve stormed out of the hotel bar and onto the busy streets. All I know is that I need to put as much distance between me and Scott as possible, so I fucking commit.

I walk, and I walk, and I walk, with no idea where I’m even going, fighting the urge to run. Literally and metaphorically, because Scott in his casual cruelty has ripped something open inside me, and now all the fears and insecurities Ryk has meticulously soothed and kissed better are out in the open once again.

You can’t trust people.

But you trust Ryker.

But you can’t trust people.

But you trust Ryker.

But you can’t trust people.

My insides are at war, and my mind is a mess, and all I really know is that I need Ryker. You can’t trust people, but Ryk is family and freedom and spring days and sunrises. Lying on the grass on a warm summer’s day. Laughter. Joy. He’s happiness and a dream come true, and I need him.

I trek through the city toward the rink, too much of a mess inside to get a cab or even go on the subway. I rush through the streets. I need to move and clear my head. I need to be able to think again.

I finally get to the rink, but by then the game is long over.

It takes me a second to remember that I haven’t even glanced at my phone in hours, so I pull it out. The screen is dark. I guess I forgot to charge it.

I drag my fingers through my hair and let out an angry shout because absolutely nothing is going my way right now, and I’m tired and cold and alone.

I give myself another second to get it together and then I start to walk again.

Home.

I just need to get back home, and then everything will be okay.

It has to.

It takesme forever to navigate my way through the city back to our apartment. Once I reach the front door of the building, I could almost cry from the sheer relief. I close my eyes and breathe deeply a few times before I head upstairs. I unlock the door and get inside. The moment the front door clicks shut behind me, Ryker is in the hallway. I can see the moment he breathes out and his shoulders relax.

“Where have you been?” he asks and steps closer. He takes my backpack and drops it on the floor, then helps me pull my jacket off.

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