So, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. I fucked up spectacularly, and now I’m paying the price.
Valeria has made it her mission to torment me every chance she can, and that includes draping herself over Ryder any opportunity she gets. He doesn’t encourage her in any way, and he’s constantly rejecting her advances, but it still kills me, and she knows it, so she continues to do it. According to Luc, she’s fucking Kelly and Wright now that Lopez is gone, and she’s still bouncing up and down on Watson’s cock too, and while I hope she’ll get bored of heckling me soon, I’m not naïve enough to believe she isn’t planning something.
I’m watching her watching me as I perform my usual jog around the yard the next day. I’ve never been able to relax out here, constantly feeling eyeballs glued to my back, fully aware that the hushed whispers and pointed fingers are leveled in my direction. Although exercise is supposed to loosen the muscles, mine are permanently locked tight out in this yard, as my entire body stays on high alert.
The thirty-foot chain link fence topped with barbed wire, and the guard tower, reminds me I’m in a serious predicament, and that doesn’t help my mood either. I’m in a particularly pissy frame of mind today, and Valeria’s suspicious behavior has me on edge.
She’s whispering in a corner with Sam and Sofia, and every few seconds, they cast a glance in my direction. All the tiny hairs lift on the back of my neck as I wonder what they are plotting. I slow my pace a little, not wanting to exhaust myself if they are planning to strike today.
Shouting at the far end of the yard draws my attention, and I slow down to a stop as I watch a fight erupt between Torres, Kelly, and Wright. Fists are flying in all directions as a few other boys join the melee. My eyes scan the group for Ryder and Luc, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot them standing back by the fence watching shit go down.
“Zeta.”
I spin around at the sound of Valeria’s voice, instantly on my guard.
I suck in a gasp as intense pain slices across my belly, ripping through my insides like a deadly tornado. I’m instantly light-headed, swaying on my feet as an icy-cold chill tiptoes up my spine. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m gasping for air as my hands instinctively move to my stomach.
Valeria’s glare is evil incarnate as she stands right in front of me, flanked by her posse of bitches. “That’s for blowing my boyfriend,” she snarls. She twists the knife in deeper, and warm liquid bubbles up my throat. “And that’s just for being you.”
My eyelids flicker open and shut, and I stumble backward, my hands cradling my stomach. I glance down, barely hearing their laughter as horror engulfs me at the sight of so much blood oozing from the deep wound.
She roughly yanks the knife out, and I scream as indescribable pain rips through my body. Blood gushes out of my stomach like a river overflowing its banks, and I crumple to the ground. I land on my side with a thud, my head slamming painfully into the asphalt.
Blood leaks out of my mouth as I frantically clasp my hands over my stomach, desperately trying to stem the blood loss. In the background, the sound of approaching footfall mixes with the shrill ring of a whistle, but over it all, I hear Ryder repeatedly shouting my name.
My eyelids shut, and I shiver as a cold, bristling wind washes over me, freezing me from my head to my toes. Darkness is calling, beckoning me with a seductive promise of no more pain.
Before I black out, I feel his hands on my face. “Baby, please open your eyes.” His voice is riddled with torment. “Stay with me, Zeta. Open your eyes.” Forcing my eyes open, because I hate to hear the pain in his voice, I feel an immediate sense of peace as I stare into his beautiful yellow-green eyes. Tears spill down his cheeks as he whispers my name.
“Ryder.” I try to speak over the blood frothing in my mouth, but my voice is muffled and indistinct. “I’m sorry.”
“Baby, shush. Don’t try to speak.”
A gurgling sound emits from my throat, and I’m struggling to breathe. My eyes pop wide with fear as it dawns on me that I’m dying. Tears seep from my eyes as I stare at him, wanting his face to be the last thing I see, knowing it’s the only comfort I can take in this moment.
“Don’t give up, Zeta,” he begs, his voice breaking. “I need you to fight because you are everything to me.” A look of determination ghosts over his face. “I love you. I love you so much. Please don’t die because I can’t exist in a world without you in it.”
Darkness encroaches, summoning me with an invisible reach I can’t avoid. I try to fight it. I try to force the words from my mouth to let Ryder know I love him too, but I’m not strong enough to resist.
The last thing I hear as my world turns black is the sound of Ryder crying and pleading with me not to die.
CHAPTER 11
Ryder
The car ride from juvenile hall to the hospital seems to take forever, and my anxiety increases with every second that passes. My feet and hands are handcuffed, and I’m sitting stiff as a poker in the back seat alongside Powell. That dickhead Watson is driving. I’m only here because Zeta begged that I be permitted to visit her. Apparently, she had a bit of an episode when her stepfather showed up at the hospital earlier today, and her therapist, Dr. Reynolds, spoke to the administration, explaining my presence would help calm her down.
I can’t wait to see her. I spent several hours last night thinking she was dead, and I almost lost my fucking mind. I paced my cell nonstop, in between bouts of crying and futilely hitting the wall with my bare fists. My knuckles are torn to bits, but I welcome the pain. All night, I’ve been beating myself up for pushing her away for so long. Chastising myself for my jealous, bitter feelings. I know she did what she did for me, but every time I’ve closed my eyes, I see her—on her knees, sucking his cock into her beautiful mouth—and I’m enraged.
But her almost dying puts things into perspective.
We can’t change the past, but we can salvage our future.
A future that was almost torn away when she nearly died.
I’m done punishing the both of us, and I hope she’ll give me the chance to make it up to her.
“Ryder!” She calls out to me the minute I step foot into the room, her face lighting up as I shuffle toward her as fast as I can with my leg restraint.
She’s wearing a hospital-issued gown, sitting up in the bed, propped against a bunch of pillows. She looks pale and drawn, but she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“Zeta,” I rasp, my voice overcome with emotion. I want to hug her, but I’m restricted by my cuffs. I pin pleading eyes on Powell.
She walks toward me with a wary expression. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“You won’t, and it’s not as if I can do anything with you in the room.”
“You’re unpredictable, lately,” she murmurs, unlocking the restraints from my ankles before moving to my wrists.
“I’m here for Zeta. There’s no other agenda. I swear.”
“Very well.” She turns her gaze on Zeta as I sit down on the chair, pulling it in close to the bed. “I’m glad you’re okay. You gave us all a fright last night.”
“Thank you for getting me here in time.” Zeta reaches out, clasping Powell’s hand.
“I can give you an hour, no more. This isn’t exactly standard protocol.”
“I appreciate that,” Zeta says, casting a quick glance at me. “Thank you for bringing him here.”
Powell pops earbuds in her ears. “I can’t leave the room, but I’ll give you as much privacy as I can.” She drags a chair over to the door, facing it to the wall, and sits down, plugging her earphones into her iPod, giving us space to talk alone. Not for the first time, I’m so grateful for that woman and all the ways in which she’s tried to help me over the years. I don’t know why she does it. Maybe she’s just a fucking awesome human being, but I know my juvie experience
could’ve been hella worse without her presence in my life.
I give Zeta my full attention. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” she whispers, smiling softly.
I take her hand in mine without hesitation, mentally fist pumping the air when she threads her fingers through mine. “How much pain are you in?”
“They’ve given me strong painkillers, so it’s not too bad. I’m trying not to move too much, because my stomach feels like it’s ripping in two every time I reposition myself.”
“I thought I’d lost you.” My voice cracks and I take a second to compose myself. “And I had so many regrets. For being such an asshole. For not accepting your apology. For continuing to let Lopez and Valeria come between us. But mostly for not telling you how I much I miss you.” I swallow over the nervous lump in my throat. “How much I love you,” I whisper.
“I thought I dreamt that,” she murmurs, her face slightly flushed.
I smile. “No, I’m pretty sure the whole yard heard me declaring my love.”
Her eyes are brimming with emotion as she tightens her grip on my hand. “Ryder, I love you too, and it terrifies me.”
My heart soars. “I know the feeling.” I rub my thumb in soothing circles across the back of her hand. “I’ve never told anyone that before or had anyone say it to me,” I admit.
“I’ve never loved any other boy but you,” she confirms, and I want to kiss her so badly. “But my parents used to tell me they loved me all the time when I was little, before everything turned to shit.”
She averts her eyes and I sit up on the edge of her bed, careful not to hurt her. “Hey.” I brush my thumb against her cheek. “I’m always here for you if you want to talk about it.”
The look of anguish in her eyes when she meets my gaze almost undoes me. “I’m frightened, Ryder, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Talk to me. Let me help you figure it out.” I continue rubbing her cheek with my thumb, and she seems to draw comfort from it. “Is this something to do with your stepdad coming here earlier?”
She nods. “He’s my guardian and the reason I got put away for my mom’s death.”
I peer into her eyes, seeing everything she wants me to see. “You didn’t kill your mom, did you?” She shakes her head. “He did it? Your stepdad?”
She pauses for a beat and then nods. “I haven’t heard from him since that night, but he showed up here this morning because he’s listed as my official guardian and he was notified by the warden.” Her lips pull into a thin line, and her eyes flash with anger. “He only came to warn me to keep my mouth shut.”
A whole heap of confusing emotions rushes me in that moment, but I focus on Zeta. This isn’t about me; this is all about her. “Why are you covering for him?”
“Because I was afraid if I told the truth that he’d get away with it and I’d be forced to live with him until I turned eighteen. That night, when it all went down, being sent to juvie seemed like the lesser evil, but I didn’t realize they’d convict me of voluntary manslaughter and that it might mean transfer to an adult prison. I don’t want to go to jail, Ryder, but I don’t know how to fix the mess I’m in.”
“Do you feel up to telling me about it?”
She leans her head back against the bedframe, sighing deeply. When she pulls her eyes back to me, she nods, her chest heaving. “I want to tell you. I need to tell someone, because it’s eating me up inside.”
“You can trust me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“I already know that.” She smiles, reaching up and cupping my face. My hand drops down to the bed. “Before I start, I want to thank you. For looking out for me from day one. For being my friend and giving me a reason to open my eyes every morning. For giving up your guitar for me. I know that guitar means everything to you, and I still can’t believe you did that for me.”
“My Fender doesn’t mean everything to me.” I plant my hand over hers on my face. “You mean everything to me. You’re my entire world, and whatever we need to do to fix this, we’re doing it, because I want us to be together, to build a life together outside those damn walls.”
“I would love that too, but I don’t know if it’s possible. How can I get anyone to believe I’m telling the truth when I’ve lied under oath?”
“Because you were scared, and your mom had just died.”
“Will that be enough?”
“We won’t know until you try.” I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Tell me what happened, babe.”
She drops her hand to her lap, and I thread my fingers in hers again. “Mom wasn’t always a bad mom, but after my dad was killed in action overseas, she changed. She was heartbroken and incapable of looking after me. I was only six, but I had to grow up fast. We’d been living in a house the military provided, so we had to move. I know it wasn’t her fault, but she took me away from everyone and everything I knew and loved. I had no friends at my new school, and I was bullied because Mom was such a drunken mess. Then she met Bob.” Her face contorts into a grimace, and she clenches her jaw tight.
“Your stepdad?”
She nods. “He was nice, at first. Brought Mom flowers, brought me candy, whenever he came for dinner. Joked around with me, and he put a smile back on Mom’s face. I didn’t want a replacement Dad, but things were better for a while. However, it all changed after he moved in, and especially after they got married. Then he showed his true colors.”
A tear trickles down her cheek, and I smooth it away with my thumb.
“He was a pimp, and he got my mom addicted to drugs and coaxed her into prostitution. I was too young to know exactly what was going on at first. All I knew was that something wasn’t right. All these strange men coming and going from my house scared me. When I was thirteen, one of the boys in school propositioned me. He said he wanted to know if I was as good a fuck as my mom.”
My heart hurts for her, and I squeeze her hand tight.
“He took great pleasure in telling me how his dad had paid for her to take his virginity. He was fourteen, Ryder. Fourteen.” She shakes her head. “I was sickened, but I didn’t deny it, because everything slotted into place. I confronted her when I got home, and she belittled me. After that, she made no attempts to hide anything. Assholes were constantly in my house doing drugs, getting drunk, throwing parties, and fucking my mom and other women.”
Tears cascade down her face, and I wish I could take her pain away. “When I came home the day of my fifteenth birthday, Bob was waiting for me; said he had a birthday surprise lined up.” Her eyes burn with anger. “His present was to force me to watch three guys fucking my mom while she was coked out of her head. He watched me the whole time, grinning as I trembled in fear and disgust.”
My stomach lurches unsteadily as I guess where this story might be going.
“He told me my present was the fact he would allow me to wait until I was sixteen before I joined the family business. He said he’d let me live under his roof for free once I watched and learned.”
Her lower lip wobbles. “I ran away that night, but he found me sleeping rough under the bridge two nights later and dragged me back. He beat me black and blue and said if I tried that again he’d kill me. He told me I belonged to him and to get used to it.”
“Shit, Zeta.” I gently lean in and hug her, careful not to press against her stomach. “I’m so sorry you had to live with that.” I understand what it’s like, more than she realizes. “Didn’t you have any other family you could turn to?”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Mom’s parents died in a car accident when she was twenty, and my dad’s parents are old, and they live in Florida. I hadn’t seen them in years, and I didn’t feel I could approach them with this. The only one was my mom’s younger sister, but they’d had a big falling-out when I was a toddler, and I didn’t know her at all. All I knew was she worked overs
eas, and her name was Jillian Roberts. There was no one. I was completely alone.”
She looks off into space, and I can only begin to imagine the horrors toying with her mind. She shakes herself out of it a few minutes later, continuing. “I threw myself into school and my studies because it was the only way I could avoid the horrors that played on repeat in my mind. Every day, I was forced to watch and listen to mom as she fucked an endless stream of different guys. And they leered after me, some of them tried to touch me, but Bob always kicked them out. I was under no illusion. I knew he wasn’t doing it out of the goodness of his heart, and that terrified me.”
I’m struggling to keep my emotions in check listening to her. I hate that she grew up like that. That she’s been deprived of love. It’s no wonder we felt such a strong connection to one another the first time we met. We have so many similar experiences. I run my fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss atop her head. I just want to bundle her up and protect her from all the evil in the world, but I know I’m too late.
She’s already seen more than her fair share.
She places her hand against my chest, peering into my eyes as she continues explaining. “I couldn’t eat for weeks in the run-up to my sixteenth birthday, and I thought about running away again, but I had nowhere to go, and I knew there was a chance he’d make good on his threat to kill me, so I felt trapped. I pleaded with Mom. Begged her to leave him, but I didn’t even know if she heard me. She lived in a permanent drugged-up state, and I had given up all hope.”
I stroke her cheek, needing to touch her, to comfort her.
“But he didn’t come near me, and as weeks turned into months, I gradually started to relax. He still made me watch, and I knew it was only a reprieve, but I took the wins where I could. I signed up for self-defense classes after school, and I also fitted a lock on the back of my bedroom door because, more and more, assholes were wandering into my room while I was sleeping.”
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