“He has sustained some very critical injuries.” I can tell she’s trying to let him down easily, but she doesn’t know him as well as we do. He’s a fighter. He’ll pull through. He has to; I don’t know what I would do without my best friend.

“I’m going to stay here with him tonight,” he states as he turns to face me.

I nod. “I’m gonna take Taylor to my house and get her settled. I’ll be back in a few hours.” I look at my watch. Is it really eight in the morning? Shit!

“No. Stay with her tonight. Come back tomorrow after a long night’s rest.” He hangs his head. He feels responsible. He came back to check on Taylor and me when he should have run after and helped Brecken. I would have done the same, but telling him won’t make him feel any better.

I turn away from his room and see Taylor walking down the hallway toward me, that stupid nurse hanging onto her arm by her side. No doubt Taylor talked her into leaving the wheelchair back in her room. She leans down and whispers something into her ear as Taylor stares at me with narrowed eyes.

“Ready?” I ask once they reach me.

“Yes,” she says not bothering to stop. She just walks on past me toward the front door.

“Bastard,” the nurse whispers. I just ignore her because, in a sense, she is right. Just not the way she thinks.

I make my way to the car and open the door for her. She doesn’t even bother to thank me. We get on the highway going south toward downtown, and she swings her head around to look out the back window. “Where are we going?” she questions in confusion. “I thought we were going to the club?”

“Even if I hadn’t shut the club down, I still wouldn’t go there.” I give her a quick glance before placing my eyes back on the road. “I’m taking you to my home. My real home.”

“Right,” she quips. “You’re an undercover cop. Of course, you don’t live at the club.” She gives a dark laugh. “Did you only stay there when I stayed over?” She swings her head to look over at me. “You just needed a place to fuck me?” she demands. “Let me guess. You’re married. And you didn’t want your wife to find out about your little whore.” Her voice cracking proves how hurt and angry she is with me. I hate that’s what she thinks. That she thinks I could be that low of a person. But aren’t I? Does it really matter what I lied about? I don’t think so. You only have to tell one lie before you lose all trust.

I tighten my hand on the steering wheel. “No. I’m not married. And no, I didn’t just stay there when I fucked you. I have been living at the club since Brecken and I opened it. It was part of being undercover.”

“What is your real name?” she demands. “’Cause I know it’s not Cason.” Her words drip with sarcasm.

I take a deep breath. “My name is Tyler.” A silence settles over the car and a quick glance over at her tells me that she has tears running down her face. “Taylor, I …”

“Stop,” she says brokenly. “Just stop, Ca … Tyler.” She sniffs. “Just drop it.”

I do as she asks. We pass downtown in silence. The only sound is her occasional sniff or the movement of her hand wiping the tears from her eyes. I hate what I’ve done to her. But I never thought it would go this far. I never thought I could fall for her or she could feel the same way about me. I’m just a drug dealer, remember? How could someone like her ever see anything in me other than failure?

I get off the highway and drive a few more miles. I pull off the four-lane road onto the one-way road to my house. I’ve owned this house for about five years now. And to be honest, I’m scared to death to bring her here. This is my only place away from the life I have made for myself. It holds every secret I’ve ever had. It is the real me! All I can do is hope the fact she’s mad at me will keep her from asking any questions.

I reach up and hit the garage opener on the visor of my car and pull into the garage. She stays quiet as I close the garage and open the car door for her before the door to enter the house as well. She walks into the back part of the kitchen slowly as she looks around. I take the chance to look around as well. I’m never here because it hurts too much. I have a cleaning lady who cleans every so often, but I can’t recall the last time I actually stayed here. Even before Brecken and I opened the club, I didn’t live here.

“Blane should be here soon with Savannah. They are bringing your things,” I inform her as I close the door behind me.

She stops in the living room and turns to face me. Tears run down her beautiful face and she holds her wrapped wrist to her chest with the other. “I can’t do this,” she whispers. “I thought I could. But I can’t stay here with you.” She looks away from me.

I take a step toward her, and I watch her chest rise and fall as she takes a deep breath. “I know you’re mad at me.” I hate you is what she said to me at the hospital. And she should. “You have every right to hate me. But I am still doing my job. I’m going to protect you, and this is where you will be the safest.”

More tears run down her face. “So now, I’m just a job.” The words are spoken softly, but they still have the power to knock the wind out of me.

I wanna tell her of course you’re not. Do you have any idea what I’ve done in order to keep you safe? Do you know how many rules I have broken because you became my addiction? The one thing I soon found out would destroy me in the end but considered to continue with this facade? But instead, I say, “Blane and Savannah are going to be staying here as well. It won’t be just you and me.” Her shoulders sag in relief. “You can have my room. I’m gonna sleep on the couch.” It’s almost nine in the morning now; Brecken had woke us up a little after five. And we had only been asleep for about an hour when he woke us. I know she has to be exhausted.

She nods her head, and I take that is the best I’m going to get from her at the moment. I pass her and walk to my room to grab a few things. I wanna shower and just go to sleep. Put this horrible day behind us. I would say tomorrow is a new day, but hell, this day just started. And we all know that tomorrow isn’t gonna get any better.

TAYLOR

I wipe the tears from my face as he walks off down a hallway. I sniff and wipe the tears on his sweatpants I am still wearing.

I’m trapped here! I’m trapped in a house with a man I allowed myself to fall for. A man I don’t even know. At least he did say Blane and Savannah would be here soon.

Looking around his house, I take in a shaky breath. Just calm down, Taylor. No need to let him see how worked up you get over him. A picture on his mantel catches my eyes. I walk over to it and pick it up. It has him and three other people in it. It looks like his family. He looks young, sixteen maybe. His hair is dark and shaved close to his head, and his face is clear of facial hair. He’s smiling big as he’s hunched over, and a woman is up on his back, piggyback style, her long dark hair thrown over one shoulder. She looks just like him! It’s almost scary at how much she looks like him. They have the same smile. The same beautiful blue eyes. Her nose is a little slimmer, but they look just alike. She could be his sister. And she’s absolutely gorgeous.

A woman stands to the right of them; she’s looking over her right shoulder at them with a big smile on her face. A man stands behind her; he’s much taller than she is. His arms are around her waist, and he’s looking down at the older woman, who I’m guessing is his mother. You see these family portraits in a magazine. The kind used in family ads. They all look perfectly happy. And it makes me mad because I know he is no longer this guy in this picture. I’ve never seen that smile on his face. One so carefree. You can feel the love these four have for each other, yet he has never once mentioned them.

I set the picture down and take off down the same hallway he had. I open a few doors trying to find the master bedroom. I open the last door on the right and I find him standing in the room, a towel wrapped around his hips. Water still drips from his hair down onto his hard chest and chiseled stomach. I watch it as it goes lower into his towel. I look him in the eyes, not wanting to think anything except for the hatred I have for this stranger.