Page 4 of Erik's Redemption
Her heart didn’t feel safe. She’d given it to Erik. Trusted him with its keeping. And that heart was already feeling the loss of him, even though he hadn’t gone anywhere.
CHAPTER 2
Erik pumped his legs fast as he ran, the air soaring in and out of his chest while every fucking muscle in his body ached. But he didn’t stop. If anything, the ache forced him to work harder. To run faster.
Sometimes, when he pushed himself close enough to the edge, he could almost forget what he’d done. What he’d taken from Hannah, and the heartache it had caused her.
And he could almost convince himself that they’d be okay.
So he ran as fast as his body allowed, like he could somehow outrun his reality and the ticking clock that followed him. Haunted him. Reminded him that eventually, he’d have to tell her.
He was so damn angry at the world. For giving him this beautiful woman, convincing him he could have it all, then ripping it out from under him. It almost felt like just as he’d reached for a fucking fraction of happiness after years of being alone, God laughed at him.
Maybe it was his fault for choosing to fall for her. But whenever that idea started to pulse at his temple, he was reminded that loving Hannah had never been a choice. Thesecond he’d seen her, touched her, heard her sweet, lyrical voice, his heart had been chained to hers.
He ran so long that the small shadows of light began to fade and the moon cast a dim glow over the road in front of him. He’d been pushing his body to the limit almost every day lately. But it didn’t help. Nothing helped.
When he finally returned to his house, his jaw ground at the absence of Hannah’s car. He’d told her he didn’t want her leaving the office late. She hadn’t listened. But then, was that a surprise? He’d barely spoken to her lately, because he’d barely beenableto talk to her,look at her, without feeling like every fucking rock in the world was sitting on his chest, crushing him. So why should she listen to his advice or heed his concern?
He pushed inside and moved up the stairs, tugging his phone from his pocket as he went.
Erik: Are you on your way home?
When he reached the bathroom connected to his bedroom, he turned the shower on so fucking hot that the air immediately thickened with steam. Then he stripped off his running shorts and stepped under the water.
The same question repeated in his head every single day…when was he going to tell her? When was he going to drop the bomb?
At some point, he had to. But the very thought of doing so, of setting those words free, made a band pull against his lungs. Stopped every breath to the point he almost keeled over.
He didn’t spend long in the shower. When he turned off the water and grabbed his towel, he went straight for his phone. He cursed when he saw the blank screen, and his fingers twitched to text her again. To call her.
Instead, he pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, then went down the stairs to his office. He’d just sat behind his desk when hisphone rang. But it wasn’t Hannah’s name on the screen, it was his sister’s.
He let Andi’s call ring out, feeling like the asshole he was for not talking to her. It wasn’t just Hannah he’d been avoiding for the last month. It was his family as well. Because every time his world imploded, he did the same damn thing—closed himself off from the people who loved him most, afraid they’d see the cracks in his walls.
He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out the documents he’d printed a month ago. He’d read them so many times, he could recite the information word for word. Yet he still pulled them out, needing the repeated confirmation of what Hannah’s foster brother, Nico, had done…and why Erik had killed him.
When his phone rang a second time, it wasn’t Hannah or Andi. It was Chandler—a man who was both a friend and his eyes and ears for every job he went on.
He touched the cell to his ear. “Chandler.”
“Hey. I sent over the notes for tonight’s job.”
He swallowed, eyeing his laptop. “Okay. Great. We’re still set for midnight?”
“Yep.” There was a small pause. “Hunter, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
His gut clenched so damn tight it took a moment to form words. “I already know what you’re gonna say.”
“Good. So you know you’re working too many jobs.”
“I can handle it. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me. What are you doing right now? Are you sitting at your desk, looking over the information I sent you on Nicolas Spalder for the hundredth damn time?”
He dropped the papers like they’d burned him.
“He was involved in a human trafficking ring,” Chandler said slowly, as if it was the only way the words would make sense toErik. “That was confirmed information. He was a scumbag, and the day he died, this world had one less threat to worry about.”
