Ryan
I’d saddled up my horse, Sergio, and gotten ready to go for a run, when I realized Sergio, as fast as he was, wouldn’t be able to give me the speed I was craving.
I patted him down. “Another time, boy,” I said.
Then I wandered back up to the detached garage at the guest house where I kept my pride and joy—my Porsche 911 Turbo. Sleek navy blue—custom paint job—and posh leather seats, the convertible sat under its chamois cover. His name was Jake.
I removed the cover and stared at it in all its glory.
Neither of my brothers were into cars. They were more comfortable in their pickups than in the luxury sedans they both owned. Me? I loved them, though I didn’t take Jake out as often as I would have liked to.
Right now? I needed speed. I needed the wind blowing through my hair as I sped a hundred twenty miles an hour down deserted country roads.
My life was in shambles.
The woman I—
The woman I what?
Loved?
Fuck. I shoved my fingers through my hair.
I fucking loved her.
Ruby. Ruby who’d kept a secret from me. She’d taken my punishment for that. A woman who had only recently opened her body and mind to sex had let me take what I needed from her.
Damn.
My life was a mess.
I couldn’t have a relationship, and I had no idea if she felt the same way anyway.
So for now, I’d get Jake out onto the open road and scream through the next couple hours at top speeds.
My phone buzzed.
Shit. It was Joe.
“Yeah?” I said into the phone.
“Hey, Ry. Tal and I just wanted to…”
“What, Joe? What the fuck do you want?”
“To make sure you’re all right.”
“All right? Of course I’m not all right. My life has been shattered, and I just spent the last hour listening to my biological mother spin all kinds of tales.”
“You went to see Wendy?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
“No. Of course not. But we should have been there with you.”
“Ruby went with me.”
“Good. Then you weren’t alone.”