Play to Win by Tiffany Snow

growling at a woman waiting outside.
    “McClane! Heel!”
    Ryker’s command had no effect on McClane’s growling, and as I got closer, I got a better look at the woman just as Ryker froze.
    “Natalie?” he asked, his voice a mix of awe and horror.

Chapter Four
    D ean,” the woman said with a tentative smile. “It’s good to see you.”
    Ryker moved forward as though in slow motion. McClane shuffled aside. I stuck close because a) this was unreal and b) I thought Ryker was about to pass out.
    “But…you’re dead,” Ryker said.
    She gave a little shrug, looking slightly abashed. “False alarm. Can I come in, Dean? I have a lot to tell you and explain.”
    Ya think? My spidey senses were firing off all kinds of warnings. Why was she here? How was she even alive? And why did she keep calling him “Dean” in that familiar way that made me want to rip out her long, shiny hair?
    “Um, yeah, of course.” Ryker stepped aside and held open the screen door. He still looked dazed, as though he were responding automatically. McClane growled again as she walked in the door and that seemed to break Ryker from his trance. “McClane,” he snapped, and for once the dog obeyed, quieting.
    Natalie paused when she saw me, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize you had company. Am I interrupting?”
    Um, yeah, you’re interrupting his life .
    I couldn’t explain why I instinctively didn’t like her, didn’t trust her, and felt a knot in my gut that said this was bad bad bad—it just was.
    “Oh, yeah—um, Natalie, this is Sage, my girlfriend. Sage, this is…” He seemed at a loss for words so I stepped up and shook her hand.
    “Hi, Natalie,” I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster. “I must admit, I’m surprised to see you. Ryker had told me you passed away some years ago.” She looked just like the photo I’d seen of her, Ryker, and Parker. Like she hadn’t aged a day. Which, unless she was a freaking vampire, was impossible.
    And no, I didn’t bother correcting Ryker on referring to me as his girlfriend.
    Natalie’s smile had grown more brittle when Ryker introduced me, but was still firmly in place.
    “I was hoping I might have a private moment with Dean to explain,” she hinted. I just smiled and said nothing. “But…ah…I suppose if you’re his girlfriend, then you’d want to hear the story, too.”
    You got that right , I thought but didn’t say. Instead I replied, “That would probably be best.”
    “Have a seat,” Ryker said, gesturing to the sofa. He sat heavily in a chair opposite, and I thought he was still struggling with his shock. I chose to remain standing and felt a small bit of satisfaction when McClane came and plopped his butt on top of my feet.
    At least the dog liked me better.
    Natalie walked by me and that’s when I realized how little she was…and how huge I felt in comparison. She couldn’t have been more than five feet, four inches tall, which was a good four inches shorter than me. Talk about feeling like an Amazon…
    She sat primly on the sofa and brushed her hair back from her face. She was even prettier and more delicate in person than she had seemed in the photo. Her hands twisted in her lap as though she was nervous. Wearing a summer dress a soft shade of pink, she looked beautiful and innocent.
    “When I left Parker’s that night,” she began, “I went home. It was there that I got the message.”
    “What message?” Ryker asked.
    “The message that my…husband…was out of jail.”
    “You told me your husband was dead.”
    “There were times I wished he were dead,” Natalie said. “He was violent. Possessive.” She shuddered. “When he went to jail, I was relieved. I was free. Or so I thought. But his dad…he pulled some strings and got him out early. I had to run.”
    Natalie’s story conveniently would elicit sympathy, especially from Ryker…which made me immediately suspicious as to its