The Three Fates of Ryan Love Read Free

phone away? Humor her back outside and lock the doors behind her?
    The storm boomed so loud it shook the walls. He couldn’t throw her out in this.
    In his top drawer, she found his briefs, added a pair to the pack, and pulled open the next drawer. She rummaged until she retrieved some basketball shorts and held them up to her hips. When she tugged them on, she gave him an eyeful of long legs and bare behind.
    She turned and busted him staring. His gaze snared hers and something darkened in the uncertain blue. Neither one of them looked away.
    â€œDo you have shoes I could borrow?” she asked, her voice husky.
    He pointed to the other closet door. It took her a moment to turn around and slide the door open. She eyed his size 14 shoes dubiously before she spotted a pair of flip-flops on the floor and slipped her feet into them.
    â€œGet the money, Ryan.”
    Crazy with sprinkles on top. That’s what this was.
    â€œYou planning on robbing me?” he managed to say.
    She faced him. “Is that what you think? Are you afraid I’m going to tackle you and steal all your precious belongings?”
    She was swimming in his big shirt. The shorts hung down to her knees and the flip-flops looked like snowshoes on her feet. She had the threat potential of a puppy.
    Again he wished he could muster a laugh. Instead, “No” emerged in a wooden tone.
    â€œGet your stuff and wait it out on the sidewalk with me, then. If nothing happens by three, you can call your police and wash your hands of me.”
    She handed him his phone like a gesture of good faith. He took it.
    â€œOr I could do that now and save myself the trouble.”
    â€œYes. You could do that. But we’d both pay the price for your stupidity.”
    â€œDid you just call me—”
    â€œYou are in danger ,” she said, enunciating each syllable sharply. “You’re going to die if you don’t trust me. How much clearer can I be? I know you’re the kind of man who has to see something to believe it. But why not see it from the outside with me?”
    With that, she grabbed his backpack and dropped it at his feet.
    He still hadn’t moved, but Sabelle didn’t wait. She crossed to the front door with a stiff back and an air of determination, ridiculous in her borrowed getup and yet somehow . . . convincing.
    â€œHow would you know what kind of man I am?” he asked softly.
    The question made her pause. She shot a guarded glance over her shoulder, eyes wide and lips parted. Bravado and hunger stared back at him, a combination so mystifying that it shut his mouth.
    So what if she was right? It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to have happened in the past month. Hell, in the last week. Even as common sense told him that it was more likely she had someone waiting downstairs to relieve him of the money she’d insisted he pack, he felt himself giving in.
    She’d said beneath the floorboards. If she already knew where he kept the money, why not just break in and steal it while he’d been out for his run? Why the elaborate naked-and-afraid act?
    â€œI see you thinking,” she said. “You’re deciding on all the reasons not to trust me. But that’s wasting time you don’t have. Look at the clock, Ryan.” She paused. “ Please .”
    It was the hitch in her voice that unplugged his common sense and pushed him to the edge.
    He exhaled a heavy breath. “Let me get a shirt.”
    The tremulous smile she couldn’t hide fast enough called him a fool, but the baby blues sent another coded message he couldn’t be sure he was reading right. He ducked behind the screen that divided the rooms and pried up the floorboard by his bed with a long flathead screwdriver he kept in his nightstand drawer just for that purpose. He stuffed the whole hard-earned $10K into his backpack, shrugged on a shirt, and snagged jackets for both of them on his way out. What