Free Hijacked by Sidda Lee Tate

her neck, causing a chill to run down her back. She felt his warmth and turned to face him, hoping to stay strong and not allow their lack of distance to distract her as it had done many times before. She was shocked. His blue eyes were broken, and his hair was all over the place, but damn he looked good. “How did you find my house?”
    “I followed you.”
    “And you’ve been sitting outside my house for the last hour trying to conjure up your next lie? Why are you here?”
    “I told you. I can’t be away from you.”
    “Well, I guess your wife kind of screws that up for you, huh?”
    “She’s not my wife.”
    “Not according to her.”
    “Veronica is my ex-wife. She was there wanting money.”
    “Sounds logical. That’s a good one.”
    “I’ll give her all of it to make her leave us alone.”
    “Don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t do that.”
    He ran his hands through his hair in obvious distress. She brushed by him, chest jerking, skin begging to touch him, and went back to the living room.
    He followed close behind. “Please. God! Please listen to me. I can’t lose you.”
    “You never had me, Kyle,” she lied. He’d had her from the moment she caught him watching her at Night . “Don’t think for one minute you were anything more than a meaningless lay to me.” The words stung at her heart, but she would never let him know the truth—that he was everything to her.
    He flinched as if she’d slapped him. “That’s not true.”
    Shit! Damn tears threatened to pool. She fought them away. “Ask anyone. Ask Vic. He’ll tell you…I like to fuck, Kyle. I do it for fun. There’s no pain with fun.”
    His eyes were stricken. “You’re lying.”
    “Am I?” Crossing her arms, biting the inside of her cheek, she leaned against the back of the couch, not believing what she was about to say. “How long did it take before I let you finger me in the storage room?”
    His face went red and he rushed across the room. Grabbing her arms, he jerked her from the sofa and pulled her to his chest. He gave her a quick shake, holding her eyes with his. “Stop it, Sharon! Just…fucking stop!” He looked at his hands and let go, stepping away with panic seeming to ooze from his pores.
    “Leave. My. House.” Sharon broke, losing the battle with her tears. Her stomach lurched and twisted with nausea. She’d pushed him over the edge, destroyed him.
    Reaching for the doorknob, he paused, and with his back to her he said, “You can’t make me stop loving you.”
    * * * *
    Sharon tossed three empty bottles in the trash and turned to Gannon. “I need a margarita on the rocks and a whiskey sour.”
    “You all right?” He grabbed a bottle of tequila from the shelf behind him.
    “I’m fine. I need the drinks, my only table is waiting.”
    “It’s slow tonight, even for a Wednesday.” He dropped a few cubes of ice in a glass.
    Wednesday. Eight days since she’d run him out of her house. Eight days of misery. Eight days of thinking the next would get better. It didn’t happen.
    “Kayla will be here in a few.”
    Gannon’s voice pulled her out of her trance. “Okay.” She’d managed to avoid Kayla’s questions so far. Kayla knew something was wrong, it was written all over her, and Sharon was afraid she might break if Kayla were to ask.
    “Ah, you haven’t noticed the fridge all week. Ty helped me bring it in.” He handed her the finished drinks. “And it works great. I know you doubted.”
    “That’s good.” Puddles of tears formed in her eyes, she pushed them back and headed to her customers.
    I know you doubted. She should have doubted Kyle, but no, she had to go and believe everything he’d said. Believing though, it somehow justified all of her emotions toward him. If he felt the same, didn’t that make her feelings acceptable? She’d liked a lot of men, but she’d never loved, and she wasn’t positive what it felt like, but she was pretty certain from the way her heart ached knowing she