Reckless Fall (Sinful Truths Book 3) Page 3

  Still, I need information, and Hugo might be my best bet to get it. He may be the only one who hates Julian more than I do.

  I park in the parking lot and walk inside. I smile at the receptionist who remembers me from the other night and tells me that Hugo has been moved to a regular room.

  The hospital is small, and there are only two main hallways, which makes it easy to find Hugo’s room.

  My temper flares when I see who is occupying his room—Siren.

  Their conversation stops, and both of their heads snap to me as I step in. I walk in like I own the place. My plan is to ignore Siren and show Hugo just how powerful I am and that he shouldn’t mess with me, at least until I figure out if he’s on my side or not.

  But when I see Siren’s hand resting on Hugo’s leg, I can’t help myself. “You sure do spend a lot of time here for a woman who claims she doesn’t love her husband.”

  Siren rolls her eyes like my jab didn’t hurt her, but I know her well enough now—it does.

  The reaction I care more about is Hugo’s. He doesn’t seem surprised at all to learn that his supposed wife doesn’t love him. He just eats his Jello with a small smile.

  Hugo looks horrible. There are bruises and cuts everywhere. Tubes connect into his arm and chest. A cast wraps around his right leg.

  But the way he’s moving happily and eating without difficulty feels off. I’ve had full body injuries like him before, and I could barely breathe, let alone eat twenty-four hours after it happened. How can he move so easily? Even with pain medication?

  And this hospital looks like it’s barely standing upright, let alone able to handle his extensive injuries. That was why Siren took me to Julian to get me medical help. This hospital can’t handle severe injuries. Something isn’t right.

  I look from Hugo to Siren. She’s an expert at figuring out liars and deceit. Yet, if she realizes something is off, she doesn’t let on. Unless she’s in on the deceit?

  Fuck, I can’t trust anything when it comes to Siren. This was a mistake; I shouldn’t be here. I can’t trust Hugo anymore than I can trust Siren.

  “And you are?” Hugo asks.

  “The man who slept with your wife,” I answer. Not really the best way to get this man on my side, but I want everything out in the open. And I want to hurt Siren as much as I can.

  Siren glares at me. “This is Zeke Kane. He owes a debt to Julian.”

  Hugo stops eating his Jello as he looks from Siren to me. And I know immediately that he wants her. He may not love her. And I may not understand what happened in their marriage, but the desire is there. Siren’s eyes don’t look at Hugo, though. They sink into me, straight to my heart. Like she knows why I’m here, and she thinks I’m stupid to trust Hugo. Her eyes tell me not to trust Hugo. Which gives me even more reason to trust him.

  Hugo wants Siren, but what does Siren want? Who does she love? If she loves Hugo, it makes me want to hurt him just to hurt her. And if she loves me…she doesn’t, so it doesn’t matter.

  My guess is she loves no one. She’s a selfish minx incapable of love.

  I turn my attention back to Hugo. It doesn’t matter who Siren loves or even who Hugo loves. It matters who Hugo is loyal to.

  “I’m Zeke, and I’m looking for an ally. Are you that man, Hugo? Do you hate Julian Reed?”

  Hugo throws back the rest of the Jello into his mouth like he’s doing a shot, then swallows with a big smile.

  “No one hates Julian Reed more than I do,” Hugo answers.

  I grin. “I do.”

  5

  Siren

  I look back and forth between the two men. One is my asshole of a husband. The other—a man I wish was my husband.

  These men should hate each other’s guts. Hugo is my technical husband, who I never told Zeke about. Zeke feels betrayed because I’m married, even if it’s only on paper.

  And even though Hugo has slept with countless women since we’ve been married, he should hate that Zeke has been the one warming my bed.

  Instead, these two men just made an arrangement. They became allies with a couple of words and a handshake.

  What. The. Hell.

  This can’t be happening. I must be dreaming. I must have lost my mind. I’m sleep deprived from sitting outside Zeke’s bedroom door all night, wishing I didn’t have to be the devil in disguise for just once. But I don’t think I could dream up an entire conversation. Could I?

  Zeke nods at Hugo. “Rest up and get better. I’ll check up on you when your wife isn’t here, and we can talk gameplan.”

  It’s happening. Zeke is talking about making a gameplan to take out Julian.

  “I look forward to it,” Hugo answers.

  No, no, no! These two men are supposed to be enemies. Hate, not love each other.

  Zeke starts walking out the door as I’m still gaping in shock. That was the last thing I expected to have to worry about.

  Hugo raises his eyebrow at me, just as shocked by the turn of events as I am. But unlike me, Hugo just grabs another Jello off his tray and goes back to eating while he flips the TV back on to some baseball game.

  Ugh.

  I’ll deal with Hugo later. He’s not going anywhere. Although, he’s surprisingly chipper today for someone who was just hit by a car.

  Instead, I run after Zeke.

  “Zeke,” I snap, when I reach the hallway and see him about to round the corner. I don’t expect him to stop, to give me any time to talk. He didn’t last night, why should he today?

  Maybe it’s the desperation in my voice. Maybe it’s the heartbreak he wants to stick around and witness. Maybe he wants to rub his new alliance in my face. Maybe he’s just tired of ignoring me and wants to have it out.

  Whatever the reason, he stops.

  I jog down the hallway to where he’s standing in the hallway of the small hospital. I don’t want to have this conversation here in public, but I doubt Zeke will follow me somewhere more private.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as I stand a foot away from him. So close, yet so far. What I really want to do is throw my arms around him and kiss him. Remind him that he likes me if not loves me.

  He puts his hands in the pocket of his jeans as he tilts his head with a smile. He hasn’t shaved, and the scruff on his face makes me drool. And he wore his hair down, just how I like it—the bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing—driving me insane with need. He’s trying to play me like he thinks I played him. The only difference is, I wasn’t playing him for my own enjoyment. I was playing him to protect him.

  “Why would I tell you anything, Siren?”

  “Don’t work with Hugo.”

  “Hugo is your husband. I would think you would want me to work with him.”

  “You shouldn’t trust Hugo. He only looks out for himself. He’s only interested in money.”

  “I trust him more than I trust you.”

  I close my eyes at the impact of his words. He has no reason to trust me. None. But it still hurts. Like a knife to the chest.

  I miss the old Zeke. The Zeke who would protect me with his life. The Zeke who would bring me coffee and flowers for no reason. The Zeke who was a romantic deep down. This Zeke is cold and calculated. This Zeke is closed up.

  “Don’t, Zeke. Don’t trust Hugo. If you want to work with him, fine. But don’t let your guard down with him.” I can’t look at Zeke. Seeing him hurts. Being near him and not touching him hurts. Seeing how pissed he is at me hurts. Because all I want to do is explain. If I could show him my heart, I would. Because my heart holds the truth.

  Zeke’s fingers go under my chin, tilting up so that I look at him. He looks into my eyes, like he can tell all of my secrets. I wish he could. Then he would know the truth.

  His words still hang in the air—I trust him more than I trust you.

  Zeke has no idea who Hugo is. He has no idea that on a scale of an angel to devil, Hugo falls second only to the devil himself. I may have once thought of him as an innocent, b
ut now I know that he and Julian are more alike than different. The main difference is that Julian tells you exactly who he is, while Hugo hides his monster better beneath layers of charm and pretty blue eyes.

  “You trust Hugo more than this,” I say, and then I do something wonderfully stupid.

  I grab Zeke’s T-shirt and close the gap. He opens his mouth to speak, but it’s too late. Our lips have collided in one hungry kiss—his eyes hood and then close. And then I let my eyes fall closed.

  He doesn’t fight the kiss like I expect, but I keep my grip on his shirt just in case. Zeke may not let me explain with my words, but maybe I can explain with my tongue.

  The kiss is open-mouthed. It’s the kind of messy kiss that involves teeth clashing and heads tilting the wrong way to make the most of the kiss. It’s sloppy; our tongues battle each other in a frenzy.

  But the kiss still does things to my heart. It makes it beat harder. It gives me hope. It sets me on fire.

  And from the erection poking me in the stomach, I know that it does things to Zeke too.

  Someone moans. Me? Him? Both?

  And then his hands start greedily exploring my body. Over my ass, then under my shirt.

  He wants me. He can hate me all he wants, but his hate won’t stop him from fucking me.

  I should want him to like me before I let him fuck me again, but I need this. And sometimes, fucking can lead to more truths than words can.

  A throat clears.

  “If you are going to continue on like this, I suggest the hotel up the street.”

  We both stop, turning our heads to face the surly nurse who is grimacing at us. My leg has somehow wrapped itself around Zeke’s hip. His hand is on my ass. My hand still grips his shirt. And I know my hair is completely disheveled.

  The nurse walks away, satisfied that we will stop making out in the hallway of the hospital like two unruly teenagers.

  Slowly, Zeke lowers my leg, and he removes his hand from my ass. I loosen my grip on his shirt and run my hand through my hair. And then we separate.

  I have no words, and yet, I have so much to say. Zeke doesn’t give me the time to speak, though.

  He clears his throat, and I think for a moment he’s going to speak, but it seems he’s just clearing his head of his impure thoughts as much as he’s readying his throat to speak.

  And then he’s walking away, leaving me standing in the hallway with no answers.

  “Zeke!” I shout again.

  He doesn’t turn this time.

  “Promise me you won’t trust Hugo,” I yell after him.

  He pauses for the briefest of seconds and then continues walking out of the hospital. Zeke doesn’t make me any promises.

  I stand in the hallway, torn between running after him and returning to Hugo. Right now, the best way to protect Zeke is to keep him away from this idiotic deal. And if Zeke won’t listen to me, I know a man who has no choice but to listen to me as he’s stuck in a hospital bed.

  I storm back to Hugo’s room. The look I give him is full of anger and rage. My eyes shoot into him like bladed knives.

  Hugo chuckles. “Really? You going to give me that look when you’ve probably just fucked the guy while still married to me?”

  I march over to his bed and yank the remote from his hand before turning off the TV.

  Hugo huffs.

  “You are not going to work with Zeke, under any circumstances. You are not allies. You are not friends. You are nothing to each other. Understand?”

  Hugo smiles. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t work with.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “No, you can’t. We’re married; you aren’t my boss. You have nothing on me. You’re the reason I’m in this hospital bed, in fact. If anything, you owe me, not the other way around.”

  I cross my arms, glaring at him and wishing that car accident had killed him. It might have been on my conscious that Julian killed him because of me, but I’d rather have that than put Zeke at risk.

  “You will stay away from Zeke,” I say.

  “And what will you do for me?” Hugo’s smile cuts deep into me. It’s not a happy smile; it’s a smile that says I own you.

  I may not be a slave, but it doesn’t stop me from being owned. Three men own me, all in different ways.

  Julian owns my actions and loyalty.

  Hugo owns my name and past.

  And Zeke owns my heart.

  Someday, I won’t be owned anymore. Someday, I will claim everything back. Everything except my heart.

  Today isn’t that day, though. Today, I have to save the man I love—a man who, even after one betrayal, continued to protect me—only giving me up after I betrayed him twice, both in unforgivable ways.

  “How much?” I ask.

  Hugo’s smile falters. “You really think my loyalty can be bought?”

  “I know it can. All you care about is money.”

  He shakes his head. “Oh, Aria, my sweet. You really don’t know me at all.”

  “One million, all you have to do is avoid Zeke, stay the hell away from him. It will be the easiest money you’ve ever earned.”

  “No.”

  “Two million.”

  “No.”

  “Five million.”

  “And who exactly will you be stealing this money from, Aria?” He laughs. “You don’t have that kind of pocket change.”

  I glare. “You don’t know me that well.”

  He leans forward. “I do know you that well. And we’re married. So if you have five million stashed somewhere, half of it is mine.”

  I frown. Money apparently isn’t the way to go with him.

  “What do you want, then?”

  His eyes run up and down my body in a slow, seductive way, telling me exactly what he wants—me, on my knees, sucking his cock before I spread my legs for him.

  “Not going to happen.” I flip my hair. Although, I would. I’d fuck him if it meant saving Zeke. Surely, I can find a better way to convince Hugo just to stay the hell away from him.

  I sit down on the edge of his hospital bed, turning up my charm as I take his hand in mine. I rub my thumb across the back of his hand in a slow, teasing way I used to when we were teens. “What else do you want, Hugo?”

  “You can play your games on me all you want, Aria, it won’t work. I know all your tricks.” He grabs my hand with his other hand, forcing me to stop.

  I sigh.

  “What do you want, Hugo? I know you don’t want to work with Zeke. What will it take to get you to stay away?”

  He grins, and I know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it. And it’s the one thing I’m desperate for yet can’t have because of what it will mean.

  “I want a divorce, Aria.”

  I suck in a breath. So do I, but the consequences of getting a divorce are too great.

  I stand up, done with this conversation. My hands falling from his as I walk to the door. I tried with Zeke. I tried with Hugo. But in the end, I lost my fight with both. I have to find a different way to keep them from working with each other.

  “Tell me when you’re ready for that divorce,” Hugo says as I walk out the door.

  I stiffen, not letting him get to me. As I round the corner, I spot something on my hand and stop. There’s a red substance on my fingers, similar in color to blood. But it’s not.

  Dammit, Hugo.

  And suddenly, I know exactly why Hugo wants to work with Zeke. Not because he hates Julian, but because Julian is paying him to be in that hospital bed. And none of it is real. He’s not really hurt. It was all a lie. He never got hit by a car. I don’t know when Hugo went from being Julian’s enemy to his ally, but I’m going to figure it out. And my vow to Julian to protect Hugo’s life just went out the window in my book.

  6

  Zeke

  That motherfucking kiss.

  Why did she have to go and do that?

  Or did I initiate the kiss?

  I can�
�t remember. It just happened. Like neither of us had any control over whether we would kiss or not. It was inevitable.

  It should have felt like poison to my lips. The kiss should have tasted bitter.

  But of course, what my mind thinks and what my body feels is constantly at odds. I can never get my body to feel what my mind tells it to.

  Fuck!

  I throw my whiskey glass across the room and watch it shatter against the far wall of my kitchen, its contents rolling down a cabinet. It’s much too early to be drinking anyway. But the outburst does nothing to tamper my pent up frustration.

  When did everything in my life get so fucking complicated?

  I used to have an easy life. I worked for my best friend. I was the muscle of the group that got things done. Not the man tied up in drama, women, and complications. But that’s my life right now.

  I almost want to march over to Julian’s and demand he gives me another task just so I have something physical to do. I’d love to kill a man with my bare hands right now.

  A soft rattling at my front door stops those thoughts. Because I know exactly who is standing behind that door—Siren.

  And instantly, all my thoughts shift to her. I just can’t make sense of my feelings. You know that game—fuck, marry, kill? You are supposed to choose one for each person in your life. Who you’d fuck, who you’d marry, and who you’d kill. With Siren, I don’t want to choose just one. I want to do all three.

  Dammit, why’d I have to go and throw my drink? I’m going to need it to get through this conversation. I need to use it as armor to keep her away from me, so I don’t do something stupider than that kiss.

  I open the door and find Siren standing on my porch. I glance behind her and spot a red corvette behind her. Where’d the car come from? Usually, she takes a cab if I don’t drive her. Or that beat-up thing I’ve seen her drive in the past.

  It’s Hugo’s.

  “You can’t trust Hugo,” Siren says, pushing past me to come inside without waiting to be invited.