hair, kissing him with the same fervor. Suddenly, she realized what he was doing.
Damn him for turning alpha male on her and trying to control their relationship. She jerked her head to the side, ripping her mouth free of his, then slapped her palms into his chest and shoved back. Remy stumbled away, halting inches from the couch.
Tears coated her vision. “You take this path without me, there won’t be an
us
anymore.”
He shook his head then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You just don’t get it.” He jerked his arm to his side. “I won’t watch you die.”
Unbelievable. He’d risk their relationship over some stupid vendetta. Cody’s legs wobbled. Steeling herself, she thrust her shoulders back. “I’m done taking this shit from you. You want to go play hero and leave me home to worry? Then go. But I won’t be here waiting for you.” She pointed at the door. “So get the hell out of here.”
He hesitated. She stomped forward, grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the door. “Leave!” She spun on her heels, stumbled a few steps away. A small piece of her hoped he’d rethink his plan and take her with him, apologize for being such an ass. When she heard the door click shut, her heart shattered.
Oh, God. He did it.
He ended their relationship with one fell swoop. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed as she fumbled down the apartment hall to her room.
• • •
Every fiber of Remy’s being begged him to reconsider, to go back into the apartment and tell Cody he was sorry, tell her he was wrong and he wasn’t leaving without her. He had to free her from him—for her own protection. He just hadn’t expected it to go this way.
And it hurt worse than any knife wound or bullet to his body.
It was better this way. Her anger at him would fuel her, keep her going, keep her from following. Remy returned to his bike and mounted. Turning the key, he revved the engine and sat there a moment, glancing back at the apartment building’s second-story window. Maybe he could return to her and fix this. For now, with no vulnerable connection left for his enemies to exploit, he could go into this mission with a clear head.
Cody was safe.
Kickstand back, he settled on the bike, twisted the throttle, and roared out of the parking lot.
Remy’s enemies were not so lucky.
Chapter Three
What should have taken Remy a day to get to New Orleans took him two and a half. Several times he nearly turned the Harley around and returned to Dallas and Cody. Each time he talked himself out of it. And once . . .
Once he almost took the coward’s way out. When had he lost that much faith to believe, again, that ending his life was the right choice? Damn the demons that tormented his soul.
As he guided the bike through the western edge of New Orleans, nothing appeared the same as it had six years ago. The once grand trees rising out of Lake Pontchartrain’s swamp on the west side of the Causeway Bridge had been decimated. Katrina had done a nasty number on the city Remy once called home. It would be interesting to see how the tourist area, the French Quarter, looked now.
He merged onto Lakeshore Drive, leaving the thick cluster of homes and businesses to follow the Pontchartrain’s southern shoreline. Rounding the gradual curve, the marina to his left gave way to the yacht harbor. White masts speared the blue expanse while seagulls glided on the wind currents. A breeze off the lake cooled his face. The Harley’s rumble seemed too loud for the peacefulness, so Remy slowed the bike to ten miles under the speed limit.
To his right, the ground levee and the cement barriers blocked most of his view of the homes on the opposite side. On his left, he had an uninterrupted view of the Pontchartrain. A few people walked along the sidewalks on both sides of the road, some people sat on the benches facing the setting sun. On the lake, a small boat bounced over the waves, heading east.
Gliding along, Remy’s nerves strained.
Damn him for turning alpha male on her and trying to control their relationship. She jerked her head to the side, ripping her mouth free of his, then slapped her palms into his chest and shoved back. Remy stumbled away, halting inches from the couch.
Tears coated her vision. “You take this path without me, there won’t be an
us
anymore.”
He shook his head then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You just don’t get it.” He jerked his arm to his side. “I won’t watch you die.”
Unbelievable. He’d risk their relationship over some stupid vendetta. Cody’s legs wobbled. Steeling herself, she thrust her shoulders back. “I’m done taking this shit from you. You want to go play hero and leave me home to worry? Then go. But I won’t be here waiting for you.” She pointed at the door. “So get the hell out of here.”
He hesitated. She stomped forward, grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the door. “Leave!” She spun on her heels, stumbled a few steps away. A small piece of her hoped he’d rethink his plan and take her with him, apologize for being such an ass. When she heard the door click shut, her heart shattered.
Oh, God. He did it.
He ended their relationship with one fell swoop. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed as she fumbled down the apartment hall to her room.
• • •
Every fiber of Remy’s being begged him to reconsider, to go back into the apartment and tell Cody he was sorry, tell her he was wrong and he wasn’t leaving without her. He had to free her from him—for her own protection. He just hadn’t expected it to go this way.
And it hurt worse than any knife wound or bullet to his body.
It was better this way. Her anger at him would fuel her, keep her going, keep her from following. Remy returned to his bike and mounted. Turning the key, he revved the engine and sat there a moment, glancing back at the apartment building’s second-story window. Maybe he could return to her and fix this. For now, with no vulnerable connection left for his enemies to exploit, he could go into this mission with a clear head.
Cody was safe.
Kickstand back, he settled on the bike, twisted the throttle, and roared out of the parking lot.
Remy’s enemies were not so lucky.
Chapter Three
What should have taken Remy a day to get to New Orleans took him two and a half. Several times he nearly turned the Harley around and returned to Dallas and Cody. Each time he talked himself out of it. And once . . .
Once he almost took the coward’s way out. When had he lost that much faith to believe, again, that ending his life was the right choice? Damn the demons that tormented his soul.
As he guided the bike through the western edge of New Orleans, nothing appeared the same as it had six years ago. The once grand trees rising out of Lake Pontchartrain’s swamp on the west side of the Causeway Bridge had been decimated. Katrina had done a nasty number on the city Remy once called home. It would be interesting to see how the tourist area, the French Quarter, looked now.
He merged onto Lakeshore Drive, leaving the thick cluster of homes and businesses to follow the Pontchartrain’s southern shoreline. Rounding the gradual curve, the marina to his left gave way to the yacht harbor. White masts speared the blue expanse while seagulls glided on the wind currents. A breeze off the lake cooled his face. The Harley’s rumble seemed too loud for the peacefulness, so Remy slowed the bike to ten miles under the speed limit.
To his right, the ground levee and the cement barriers blocked most of his view of the homes on the opposite side. On his left, he had an uninterrupted view of the Pontchartrain. A few people walked along the sidewalks on both sides of the road, some people sat on the benches facing the setting sun. On the lake, a small boat bounced over the waves, heading east.
Gliding along, Remy’s nerves strained.