Breathe Again (12 page)

“You’ve already come so far, Tate. Let’s stay and we can close this chapter together. I am right here, okay?” she whispered softly in my ear and pulled away.

Hesitation and what-ifs swam through me. Could I leave and be okay with what I had found out? Would it be enough to move on? Would I be able to live the life I was begging for with the information I received?

Nodding slowly, I sat back down and took a long drink of my coffee. “So I have a brother or sister out there?” My question cut a deep, gaping wound in my heart.

“You have a brother. He is two years younger than you.”

“What was the woman’s name?”

“Diana Ryan.”

My world instantly felt like the biggest ocean in the world, an ocean whose massive waves were now crashing in around me, wiping out everything in its path .The sound of Sav gasping beside me made me realize she had heard exactly what I had. This couldn’t be happening. Not this. The past twenty-three years of my life boiled down to this—a concoction of lies, infidelity, and deceit. Everything came flashing back. The neighbors, the pitiful looks they would give Tanzi and me, the way they constantly had checked in on us, and the fact that their daughter had never visited but then out of nowhere their grandson had come to live with them. The grandson who was two years younger than us. The grandson who…

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Blake Ryan.”

Savannah

A
PREGNANT
woman running after her pissed off boyfriend was something I was sure the people who were stepping out of my way and mumbling obscenities under their breath hadn’t expected to see when they woke this morning. As the evening sky of Los Angeles fell around me, I ran after Tate, out of breath, panting, my eyes locked firmly on the back of my frustratingly fast-walking boyfriend.

The moment the truth had fallen from his father’s lips, Tate’s hand gripped mine to the point of hurt under the table and the vein in his neck pulsated aggressively. Secrets had exploded all over the place, and all I could do was sit there in shock, wide-eyed and mouth agape. I had tried desperately to keep my emotions in check, but no matter how hard I’d wanted, I hadn’t been able to help the loud gasp float from my lips the moment the truth had shattered reality.

Blake and Tate were half-brothers.

This was going to shatter him into a million pieces, a million pieces I would, until the day I died, attempt to glue back together. To be honest, I was scared of that one brutal moment when the truth actually hit him, that moment when the world would give him a massive ‘fuck you’ and would stamp its boot into the already bloodied shards of his destroyed heart and grind it farther into the earth. That’s the moment I was scared of, and all I could do was pray to the heavens above that I was strong enough for him.

“Tate, seriously, would you wait!” I yelled after him with every last bit of energy I could summon. Finally, he slowed his pace until he was almost at a standstill, allowing me to catch up to him.

The last shards of California sun beamed from the skies above, but the cloud surrounding Tate was overshadowing everything. His shoulders were slumped and his head dropped in defeat. My strong man was crumbling in front of me. I grabbed at his arm and swung him around to face me. The face looking back at me destroyed me. His blue eyes were overflowing with fear, confusion, and what looked like embarrassment. What did he have to be embarrassed about?

My hands flung up to his face, cupping his cheeks and making him look at me. “Talk to me.”

The slight movement of his head as he shook it frightened me. He was shutting down, his walls were flying up at a rapid speed, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Please, Tate. You promised me.” I pulled out the big guns. His eyes finally latched on to mine. I knew he would never break a promise he’d made to me. Trust between us was now everything, and if he didn’t talk, we both knew we would be back to square one.

His Adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he swallowed hard, anxious to find the strength he needed to allow me into his inner thoughts. “This is fucked up, Sav. I share blood with Blake fucking Ryan. Or should I call him Blake Connors now? That piece of shit who made my life hell for so many years is my brother. That piece of shit who fucked Sarah and who fucked…you.” His voice cracked under his words and my heart stilled.

Our eyes flashed to each other’s in pure desperation. My greens met his blues, anxious to pierce each other’s soul for a simple truth both of us craved. The rush and buzz of Los Angeles flooded around us, but the bubble we had locked ourselves in was intensifying by the second.

“Don’t let your mind go there, Tate. We will get through this. Together. Your heart is mine to fix, to soothe, to caress, to love, to cherish, and I’ll be damned if your father or Blake will take that from me. You thought you had witnessed stubborn Savannah before. Well you haven’t seen anything yet.”

A miniscule smile tugged at his lips but was taken the moment his thoughts escaped back to the nightmare he was currently living. “How am I supposed to tell Tanzi?”

How could I possibly answer that question?

Without another word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the street towards his Jeep, his face void of emotion, his eyes fierce, and his mouth pulled tight. When we reached his car, he opened the passenger’s door and helped me in, pulling the seatbelt around me and locking me in securely. His protectiveness was adorable. I watched him like a hawk as he sauntered around the front of the car before sliding onto the driver’s seat. He stilled, his hands gripping the steering wheel to the point on whiteness appearing on his knuckles. His breathing was rough, patchy, and aggressive.

Anxiety crashed within me like a massive wave. I had seen this Tate before and I knew exactly what it led to. Tate was ready to fight.

His shaking hands fumbled with the keys and the engine roared to life. Soon we were driving erratically through the streets of Los Angeles. If I hadn’t had complete trust in him, I would have been fearing for my life. He weaved through traffic, muttering obscenities under his breath when he had to stop. I remained silent but my eyes never left him.

As he pulled the car to a stop at the lights, his eyes closed momentarily and then shot open with a new vigor taking over them. Suddenly he punched the screen on his dashboard and the sound of a dial tone filled the air. Moments later, Jack’s voice was heard.

“What’s up?”

“Is he there?” Tate didn’t hold back.

“Who are you talking about?”

I didn’t even need to ask who he was talking about. Swallowing hard, I turned in my seat and softly gripped his leg just above his knee. His eyes flashed to mine and for the first time since our gazes had first locked with each other’s in the foyer of our apartment building, I couldn’t read him. His eyes were my door to what he was thinking and feeling, and now, as I looked at him, I saw nothing. No emotion, no unspoken words, no passion.

“Blake,” he spat.

“Don’t, Tate. Please,” I begged softly, my voice sounding like a pitiful school girl—whiny, weak, and losing my hold on him. Slowly shaking his head, he looked away and focused back on the road in front of him. Nothing I could say would stop the torment in his head. This had fucked him completely up.

“So is he there?”

“Yeah he is. He is chatting to the photographer. The after-party is in full swing. Fuckstick Chelsea is still here.”

“See you in a bit.”

Tate ended the call and didn’t say another word to me as he took off through the intersection when the light turned green. We weaved our way through the congestion of Los Angeles traffic and along the familiar roads I knew would lead us straight to Red Velvet. My hand didn’t shift from his leg, I was desperate to offer any kind of comfort I could, but as the minutes passed, I knew I was failing miserably.

One thing I was quickly learning about Tate Connors was that if he stood in the face of trouble, uncertainty, or fear, he would do one of two things. He would either shut down completely, silence would overcome him, and he would pull away from me, offering me nothing but silence or he would fight. He would fight until he was satisfied that he’d won, that the fight was his to own, that he was the ultimate winner. The scary thing about right now was that I was seeing both. I was witnessing the silence engulf him but seeing the fight ignite within him and I had absolutely no clue what to do about it.

“Tate, please talk to me. You are scaring me.” My voice was barely a whisper.

“I can’t talk now, Sav. I got the answers I wanted, didn’t I? This whole thing is fucked up, but now it’s opened up a whole new bag of fucking secrets.”

“Tate, you don’t need to do this. Just talk to him. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Tate turned to me and his eyes darkened to a shade I had never witnessed before. “I won’t regret this. That’s one thing I can promise you,” he scoffed and forcefully pulled out the keys from the ignition. I didn’t even realize we had stopped. My head swung around and I recognized the familiar car park of Red Velvet. Fuck it! He was out of the car before I could beg him again.

“Shit, fuck, bullshit,” I muttered to myself, pulling open the door and rushing after him. Seriously, would he ever not make me run after him? My feet pounded on the gravel as I ran across the car park, my breathing heavy when I finally got to him. His hand gripped the door handle of the entrance of Red Velvet and he was just about to swing it open. With everything I was I pulled him back and pushed him against the wall beside the door. His eyes scanned my face, shock at my sudden strength covering him. Inhaling sharply at the feeling of the heavy beating of his heart against my chest, I grabbed both his hands and interlocked our fingers, gluing our hands together.

“Sav, just let me go.”

“Never, Tate.” I rose on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against my body. My lips collided with the corner of his mouth and instantly I felt his stiff body relax ever so slightly against me. “I will never let you go.”

Tate turned his head slightly, allowing his lips to fall on mine with an insurgence that made me breathless. My hands gripped his shirt, drawing him as close to my body as my stomach would allow. The early evening shadows of Los Angeles were falling around us, but as his hips collided with mine, I couldn’t give a shit what was happening around me. He spun me in his arms and pressed me firmly against the wall without breaking contact with my mouth. His tongue slid between my lips as I gasped. Our tongues began furiously dancing with one another as we tasted every inch of our months. Fuck, I loved kissing this man.

Kissing was something that I’d never enjoyed. Kissing to me had always been more intimate than sex. Kissing was tasting, caressing, delving into a person’s soul, and that was one thing I’d never wanted. I had often refused to kiss the men I had been with, but with Tate it was everything I needed. I wanted to kiss him until my lips were swollen, red, and bruised, until the tingle stayed for days, until our heads were fuzzy due to lack of breathing. That was what kissing Tate Connors was like, and right now I was under his spell. Suddenly the tormenting situation we found ourselves in faded into thin air, even if it was just for a couple of minutes.

A deep cough sounded beside us and both of our heads spun around to find Steve, Tate’s trusty doorman, looking at us with a grin the size of the Grand Canyon plastered on his face.

“Fuck,” Tate hissed between his teeth while the heat from my reddening cheeks radiated. Without a second thought, Tate grabbed my hand and pulled me to the alleyway that ran the side of Red Velvet, and once again I found myself pushed against a graffiti-covered wall.

A silence fell between us, eyes scoping each other’s, our hearts beating feverishly in our chests. I grabbed the front of his shirt and smashed my lips to his. It was my turn. My tongue traced the length of his bottom lip, sweeping delicately and giving him a teasing taste of me. His hands gripped my arse, and before I knew it, I was on my tiptoes, moments away from being in his arms. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my legs tight around his hips and grind myself up against the delicious cock that was crushing against my thigh. When I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth, his groan filled the air and the wetness of my panties became apparent. His mouth claimed ownership of mine in a struggle of tongues, lips, and teeth. We couldn’t get enough and I knew I never would. This was my Tate. Rough, raw, and sensual.

“We have to stop,” Tate breathed heavily into my ear before sucking my lobe into his mouth and nibbling the tender flesh. My legs felt like jelly, my sex ached for attention, and my heart was exploding in my chest.

“Why?” my voice hummed with desire.

“I love you too much to fuck in you the back alley of our bar.”

“But you always say you like when I’m a dirty girl.” My words dripped with lust and oozed with sarcasm.

I felt Tate’s lips curve to a smile against my neck. “Yes, I love dirty Sav when she is talking dirty to me when I’m pounding into her at home or the car or my office. I have no interest to meet dirty Sav in the back alley of Red Velvet when we are probably standing in someone’s piss and vomit. We are classy, remember?”