Page 80 of Sinner’s Game

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ronan woke to the feel of Brandy under his fingers. That was all that lingered of the dream, a sensual dream that he couldn’t recall but craved the memory of.

The memory? Hell, he craved the woman. It had been less than two days since she’d walked away, but it felt like a lifetime.

He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, then told himself this feeling would go away. This craving for her, and not just sexually. He missed her smile. Her laugh. He missed talking to her. Hell, he missed not talking to her and simply being.

She was a light in his dark world, and he’d intentionally snuffed it.

For the best. Walking away was for the best.

The words slammed through his mind, bold in their blatant truth. A truth he’d told himself for years, ever since he lost Michelle.

It was easier—better—to be alone.

But more and more, he was doubting that axiom. He loved her, after all. More important, she loved him. And instead of honoring that, he was running from it.

You have to.

The dark, familiar voice filled him.

You have to in order to keep her safe.

But did he?

Maybe Devlin was right. Maybe the best way to keep her safe was to keep her close.

More important, maybe it wasn’t about keeping her safe at all. He would, of course. He’d do whatever it took to keep the dark parts of the world from finding and hurting her. But maybe that wasn’t the most important thing. Maybe the most important thing was being with her. Loving her. And letting her love him back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, realizing he was speaking to Michelle. For all these years, he’d focused on his guilt when he should have been cherishing the time they’d had. Cherishing it—and letting her go. Letting them both move on. Not acceptance so much as peace.

He pushed up off the bed, wired and edgy. He was about to head into the shower when his security system announced that someone was opening the gate.

Brandy?

Immediately, he called himself a fool. She didn’t have the gate code, and when he looked at the monitor app on his phone, he saw Tamra parking his Range Rover and walking to the front door.

Five minutes later they were at his kitchen table, him in sweats and a tee, her looking as professional as always. Which made sense, of course, as it was already past noon.

“Thanks for bringing my car.”

“Not a problem. You can drive me back to the foundation or I’ll call for a rideshare.” She smiled, then reached out to put her hand over his. “Mostly, I was glad for the excuse to see how you’re doing. Devlin’s worried about you.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing specific. But I know that you and Brandy broke up.”

“We weren’t ever together.”

“Weren’t you?” she said as if he was the one who was wrong. Hell, maybe he was.

She cleared her throat. “I have some news. The team was finally able to decrypt more of the recovered footage from Mr. Matheson’s phone.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Nothing helpful at this juncture. Just images of Matheson with the woman under the mask. And with her wearing the mask. A few of the two of them looking at blueprints. Specs, I assume, for a job. And we’ve scoured the place again, ensuring that all the cameras are gone. The odds are no one else had access to the feed, but I don’t like the idea of Brandy living in the eye of hidden cameras.”

“Neither do I.”