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Chapter Thirty
Ressa stared at him, her eyes wide and he thought he almost saw a flicker of hope in them. A flicker of . . . everything.
“So . . . can we work through this?”
She sucked in a deep breath and looked away, but he caught her chin and guided her face back to his. “I’m not asking for a declaration of undying love, but if you care—”
“If I care?” she interrupted. Her voice cracked. “You stupid idiot. I love you—if I didn’t care—”
I love you—that was all he heard. All he needed to hear. Pulling her up against him, he slanted his mouth across hers. When she didn’t open right away, he nibbled on her lower lip and whispered her name.
Her lips parted as she curled one arm around his neck.
A fist banged on the door.
“Not now!” Trey was going to hurt whoever was at the door. That was all there was to it.
The knock came again. “I said, not now!”
“Yes, now.” Travis’s voice sounded grim. “Your agent has been calling half the morning. Your editor just started calling. A hell of a lot of other people who shouldn’t even have your number are calling, too.”
“Tell them to go to hell.” Trey didn’t looked away from Ressa’s face. He cupped her chin and angled her head back. “Tell my agent to call back in two hours. Unless the world is ending. Then call back in one.”
“Unless the world is ending?” she asked, laughing weakly.
“I figure if the world is ending, there’s not much I can do to help anyway.” He shrugged, and then he hooked his arms over her shoulders. “We can’t undo the past. Any of it. And hell, the past—your past, Kiara’s past—all of that gave you Neeci. Would you undo that?”
Ressa closed her eyes and then buried her face against his neck. “No.” It was a soft, barely audible whisper. “And I feel awful for saying that. I mean . . . Ha
“Don’t.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “You didn’t cause her death, baby. You didn’t.”
“Trey!” Travis. Again. “Two seconds warning! I’m coming in.”
That two-second warning was literally all they got because the door opened and Travis filled the doorway. He looked at the two of them standing there half-dressed and cocked a brow. “Damn. I was hoping that two-second warning wouldn’t be enough.”
“Travis.” Trey kept his voice level. “Didn’t I just tell you to come back? Do you want to die?”
“It’s going to happen sooner or later.” Travis shrugged and then held out the phone in his hand. “You need to talk to your damn agent and don’t give me this shit about the world ending. He’s already tried to rip me a new one and I was in a bad mood to begin with.”
“Shit.” Frustrated, he looked at Ressa and then snatched the phone from his twin’s hand.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Ressa duck into the bathroom.
“What the hell is so important that I had to be dragged out of bed?” He almost sagged in relief when Ressa appeared back in the doorway a moment later, tying his robe around her waist.
“It’s almost noon, son. I take it you haven’t been online.” Reuben’s voice had that brusque, clipped tone—a sure sign that his temper was edging near the boiling point.
“No. It’s Sunday. I kind of take that day off—also, if I want to stay in bed until almost noon, well, bully for me.”
He slid Ressa a look then glanced at his brother, saw that Travis was slouched in the doorway. Travis had his own phone out and there was a muscle pulsing in his twin’s jaw.
Shit.
“What is going on?”
Reuben said, “You’d be better off seeing for yourself.” He named a popular publishing blog and said, “Pull it up. I’ll wait.”
Trey sighed. “I’m not in front of my computer right now, man.”
Travis just held out his phone.
Trepidation filled Trey as he took it. “Never mind . . . I got it.”
“Are you reading?” Reuben asked.
“I am now.” Something that started out as fury brewed in his gut. Only to give away to disbelief and then settle down into something cold and tight.
He kind of hates to talk about his writing in any way.
He did it for his wife, you see . . . Started them on the a
He still loves her. It’s going to take a long time before he gets over her.
Each book is written for her.
Every sentence made that knot of cold fury draw tighter. And every time he saw the name the so-called article was attributed to, he wanted to hit something.
Sebastian appeared in the doorway and either the youngest Barnes was too tired or too senseless to realize the stupidity of it, because he stood there for a long moment, just staring at Ressa, gaze roaming over her with a little too much leisure.
Travis smacked him across the head.
“Fu . . .” He rubbed his head and then looked down the hall with a grimace. “Ah, sorry. Sorry. Ah, Ressa? Your phone has been vibrating non-stop for the past ten minutes. Clayton almost answered it, too. The kids are getting restless downstairs, too.”
“The kids?”
“Yeah.” Sebastian gave them both a look. “Angeline brought Neeci over not that long ago.”
Sebastian’s gaze drifted once more to Ressa, his eyes lingering on legs left bare by the robe she’d tied around her waist. Trey bared his teeth at his younger brother. Sebastian held out her phone and when she accepted, Sebastian gave Trey an unabashed grin.
“Trey, damn it, son, are you even awake?” an irate voice bellowed from the phone.
He lowered the phone he still held to his ear, glanced at it. Then sighed an answered, “I’m here, Reuben.”
“Who is this Bliss woman? Did you pick up some crazed stalker?”
Trey managed to keep his voice neutral through sheer will. “No, Reuben. She’s my girlfriend.”
There was a faint pause and then Reuben said, “Part of me is glad to hear that. The other part is wondering what the hell?”
“Stick with the first part. Somebody is messing with me.”
Then he hung up.
He tossed the cordless to his brother and turned to find Ressa staring at her phone, ashen. Her hands were shaking and he reached out to the electronic device. She clung to it but he persisted and finally, she let go.
She sagged back onto the bed and lifted her eyes to his. “I didn’t do this,” she said, her voice a low rasp.
He held her gaze for just a moment. “That was never even a question for me.”
Then he started to read. It was a different blog, one geared more for readers and the blogger had taken a different slant; the post was filled with more than a little speculative doubt. The comments, though, they ran the gamut from scathing to outright cruel, and most of the condemnation was directed at Ressa.
His vision went red because a few had already dug up information about her cousin’s trial. In that moment, more than ever, he was glad he hadn’t decided to take any kind of legal action for what happened that night.
Right there, in the comments, people were already laying her cousin’s crimes at her feet—testified against her own blood . . . what kind of woman does that?
He did see more than a few snide comments about how naturally he’d hidden behind a name because he was too embarrassed to claim the romances.
Bite me, he thought. He scrolled down to read more but before he could, a text popped up.
Girl, I am not kidding. You need to call me and now. Thompkins is on my ass and they are talking about firing you over this. Call me. Now.
He stared at the name, frowned. Farrah. Tapping on it took him to the contact and he found himself staring at a woman that was vaguely familiar. He’d seen her a time or two at the library where Ressa used to work, he thought.