Page 133 of Ryker

Ryker approaches cautiously, dressed in jeans again. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Trembling, I cover my face and try to hold myself together. Saying all that to my mom was terrifying and overdue. I’m a mix of guilt and pride about it.

He steps closer. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-yes.” I can’t breathe. I think I’m going to throw up. “I feel sick.”

“Shhhh.” He folds me into his chest and holds me tightly. The pressure of his embrace lets me fall to pieces. I scream-cry until the room darkens. It’s ugly. Years of rage and hate blast out of me until I’m a sobbing mess in his arms. He sinks us to the floor and rocks me back and forth. “You did so good, baby.”

“I feel like the worst daughter in the world.”

“You’re not.” He clasps my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. “You’re not. You’re a brave, strong woman who just did the greatest thing in the world. You took back your power.” He kisses my forehead hard. “You stood up for yourself.” He kisses my cheeks. “You know your worth and you made damn sure everyone else does, too.” He kisses my mouth and the world swirling around us faster and faster finally slows down.

I’m suddenly so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open. The fight’s out of me. I have nothing left to give. At some point, I fall asleep in his lap on the floor, and he carries me to bed.

When I wake up, Ryker’s gone.

Chapter 45

Ryker

It’s three in the morning. After tucking Tara in bed, I held her for a while and whispered a million things to her while she lightly snored against me. I didn’t touch her, except to kiss her forehead before I left. I’m too wired to sleep. There’s a tornado of things swirling in my mind.

Knocking on Dmitri’s dungeon door, I wait for him to say, “Come in.”

His room smells like a light musk, leather, and something unmistakably Dmitri. He’s over by a punching bag, swinging his fists which are already bloody. “What’s up?”

“I need to go out for a bit. Can you watch over her for me until I get back?”

He punches the bag one more time, then gives me a hard frown. “Yeah. No problem.” The bag swings like a hefty pendulum and D stops it before it hits him. “What’s going on?”

Too much. “I just need to clear my head.”

D’s brow digs down, making him look scarier than usual. “Need help with something?”

What a loaded question. “No.” My ass drops onto the cot he sleeps on. I’ll never understand why D likes to live this way. He’s got plenty of money yet lives like he’s still the poor kid from Paxton Street. “I saw your flowers on her grave. I didn’t know you still went there.”

The only emotion he shows is a flinch of his bottom lip. “Yeah, well, I miss her too, you know. You’re not the only one who lost a mom that day.”

Sometimes I forget how her death affected more than just me. We all dealt with her loss differently. I’d shoved my grief in a hole and kept it buried for so long, I barely recognize it now that it’s resurfaced. It doesn’t bite and slice anymore. There’s just a small pinch that comes and goes. Like a butterfly with razors on her feet, landing on my heart to let me know that the shriveled organ can still feel things. Then she flies off again.

What does it feel like for Dmitri?

Vault and Knox?

Natalie?

“She loved you.” My elbows dig into my knees as I lean forward and stare up at him. “She loved all of us. No matter what.” We could never do wrong in my mom’s eyes. She’d excuse our bad behavior even after she scolded us for it.

D leans against the concrete wall and crosses his arms. Sweat drips down his bare chest, and even in the low light, I can see all his scars. He’s been through Hell and there’s no telling when he’ll crawl out. “Remember when we thought it was a good idea to set fireworks off the rooftop?”

I’ll never forget it. Knox almost blew his damn hand off, trying to fuck with one that fell over after he lit it. Vault tackled him backwards just before the thing blew up. We accidentally melted a big hole in the rubber roofing pads and the rocket shot off in the wrong direction, crashing into the side of the brick building across the street. The cops were called. We all hid in my apartment and pretended we were innocent. My mom totally lied for us and said we’d been playing video games all night under her supervision.

I didn’t even own a gaming console…

“Have a good night, officer.” Mom shuts and locks the door, then spins on us with a mix of anger, fear, and adrenaline. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Vault holds a papertowel to his hand because he’d cut it shoving Knox out of the way of the rogue firework. “We’re sorry.”