"Blondie, it's okay. Everything fine now."
I bite back a whimper, from both his words and his touch.
"Right before you asked me to help you find your parents, I was contacted for a job. It was big. Huge! The payout was more than I've ever received, but the risk was just as big. This job was different than anything I've done before, and I didn't know if I wanted to go down that road, but after I started working on finding Fred and Anna, I decided I wasn't interested in the other job, so I turned it down. Well, fast forward to the day we got back from our trip to Texas, the reason why Wells was trying to get a hold of me was because the Feds were looking for me."
I gasp.
Then he launches into what happened and why he couldn’t reach out to me.
“I asked my uncle to reach out to Wells to let you all know I was fine, but I'm starting to think it was never relayed to you."
I shake my head. "No, it sure wasn’t."
He mutters a swear under his breath. He reaches for my hand and clasps it in his own. "Zella, I tried to contact you so many times, but I wasn't allowed. It killed me nearly every day. I couldn't talk to you, and not knowing if you knew drove me fucking insane."
Tears threaten to fall, but I hold them back. Looking up into his face, I ask what's been gnawing at the back of my mind. "Were you in jail?"
He gives me a half-smile. "No, but it sure as hell felt like it. After a few days, after they had proof I didn't fuck up this hack job, they admitted they never thought it was me, but wanted to get as much information as they could. They also wanted me to help them take down the organization that was behind the job. They held the fact that they knew all about my past jobs over my head, gave me no choice really, but I helped. They kept me under lock and key while I worked with their guys to identify the players. Once that was done, I was free to go."
"What about all the past jobs? What happens now that they know what you've been up to?"
He chuckles. "Apparently, they've wiped my slate clean. Told me to stay out of trouble."
I think about everything he just shared. It's crazy and doesn't feel real, but I know crazier things happen in this world. I know he wouldn't lie to me.
"That all sounds too easy." I mean, the Feds just letting him walk away?
"Yeah, tell me about it. But what I did, helping them bring down a crime organization, it wasn't easy, took a lot of work, and a deal is a deal." He shrugs.
I stare up at him, still processing everything.
He looks down at me with hope-filled eyes. His voice low and guttural. "Blondie."
I open my mouth to tell him the truth—what I went through without knowing where he was, if he was safe or hurt—when I hear my name from down the hall.
"Zella, come on girlfriend, you're missing the ball." Cameron walks toward us as he speaks. He nods at Ryker, like he isn't surprised he's here. "You've been looking forward to this thing for a month. Your man's here. There's time for talking later; it's dancing time now, baby." He smiles wide, and it's contagious.
Next to me, Ryker chuckles. The sound soothes my soul.
"All right, you've got a point," I tell Cam, but turn to Ryker, holding out my hand. "Come on. You owe me some dances." I smile up at him, and for the first time tonight, he looks utterly relieved. Maybe things are going to be alright. He grabs on tight, and we walk hand in hand into The Glass Room.
Surprisingly, Ryker leads us out onto the dance floor, just as the DJ starts playing a slow song. He pulls me into him without missing a beat. I wrap my arm around his shoulder, and he takes my other hand in his and places them on his chest.
"Blondie, I heard the heels, but how are you still so short?" He laughs, and I just smile softly and lean into him. Truth is, I've got on three-inch heels. He's right, I'm still short, but he's not that much taller now.
We dance in silence for several minutes, and as if the DJ knows we need more time, the song flows right into another.
"Blondie." My name vibrates through my body; we stand so close. I pull back slightly and look up at him. "The past two weeks have been hell without you. You are all I've thought about. I've craved you, missed you—wanted you so fucking badly."
My heart hammers in my chest at his words.
"The conversation we had in the car, on the way home, I still mean it all. You and me. I don't ever want to be apart from you again. Please tell me I'm not too late."
I blink back tears. "Ryker, I fell for you the moment you showed up in my tower. I've craved you, missed you, and wanted you so much too. I've been a wreck. Between worried out of my mind and mad as hell, one thing remained consistent."
He leans down and presses his cheek to mine. His warm breath in my ear. "What was that, Blondie?"
"That I love you and just wanted your arms around me," I whisper.
I know he hears me. He turns his head slightly, so we are nose to nose. His breath now tangled with mine. "I love you too, Zella." He lingers as I let out a shaky sigh, and then he kisses me.
Epilogue
Three months later
Ryker
"Oh, my God. I can't do it," Zella cries from the passenger seat.
"Blondie, you promised," I tell her.
She sighs and slumps back in the seat, covering her face with her hands. I can barely make out her muffled words, but I've become a bit of an expert when it comes to Zella Raps over the past few months.
"I'm sorry, did you say you were freaking out because you were scared?" I tease, she might be freaking out, but my girl is not scared.
Her hands drop from her face, and I'm greeted with the most beautiful glare. "I'm not ducking scared, and you know it."
I chuckle at her use of the word, ducking. Collectively, Cam, Wells, and I have been trying to expand her vocabulary to include more unsavory words. She's hard to break though. Using similar words in place of the ones that make her blush. For example, saying duck instead of fuck. It's cute. It's also a step in the right direction, but then again, I wouldn't change a thing about her.
I toss my hands up in surrender. "My bad. But you do have an appointment, and you're now two minutes late."
She hangs her head. "Blah! Fine, I'm going." Her head shoots up, and she points a finger at me. "If I look like a monster when this is all said and done— so help me— if you laugh, I'm cutting you off."
I grin because she might not be able to swear but damn she's a sex kitten. She wouldn't be able to handle cutting me off.
I wink at her. "Right, Blondie."
She pushes out of the car. "Ugh. Fine."
"I'll be back in two hours," I yell behind her as she slams the door. I chuckle as I watch her disappear into the hair salon.
I pull away from the salon and head to a coffeehouse nearby. I'm going to get caught up on some homework. I'm working with one of the professors on campus to create a computer coding camp for younger kids. I've stayed true to my agreement with the Feds and kept my nose clean. Well, for the most part, but nothing that would have them come knocking.