We leave the hospital an hour later, and I’m mentally and physically drained. Kat insisted there’s no point in us hanging around, and the doctor concurred. The last time Luc slipped into a deep depression, he didn’t speak to anyone for two weeks. But I still feel guilty and restless as we board the private jet for the return journey.
Zeta yawns, and I tell her to take the bedroom. Mike is already reclining in a chair with a heavy blanket over him, and I intend to do the same.
Her only reply is to take my hand and pull me to the bedroom with her. Her gaze bounces between the bed and me. “I know it’s not exactly the biggest bed in the world, but we’ll both fit.” She caresses my cheek. “I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t think you should be either.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.” I kiss her forehead.
“Just to sleep though, Ryder,” she adds, and I nod, not expecting anything more. Just getting to sleep beside her is more than enough.
She goes to the bathroom to get changed, and I toe off my Vans and shuck out of my jeans and shirt, climbing under the covers in just my boxers.
“I’ve been thinking,” Zeta says as she slips under the covers in her silk pajama top and shorts. I try hard not to lower my gaze to her impressive rack, but it’s challenging.
“What’s on your mind?” I pull her back into my chest, draping my arms around her waist.
She rests her arms on mine, and a deep sense of contentment settles over me. I nuzzle my nose into her hair, soaking her all in.
“A change of scenery might be good for Luc. Maybe he needs a break away from Orange County. He could come and stay with me for a while.”
“With us, you mean.” I prop up on one elbow, leaning over so I’m looking her squarely in the face.
“His sister said he’s likely to be in the psychiatric facility for a few months, at the very least, so …”
I can’t decide if her uncertainty is cute or delusional or if she’s already having doubts. “So, you’ll be with me, and he can come and live with us. The U.S. tour doesn’t kick off until next year, and while there’ll be some promo stuff with the new album release in November, it won’t take me away for more than the odd night or two.”
She turns around so we’re facing one another. “I don’t know if I can stay out in the Hamptons that long. I’ve got work and—”
“And I’m your boss’s boss. He’ll do what I tell him.”
She scowls. “You can’t do that!”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s nepotism, and it’s wrong. I can’t be treated any differently than any other employee.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Babe, there has to be some benefits to dating the owner.”
She quirks a brow. “Is that what we’re doing?”
I frown. “It’s actually much more than that, but I know you want to take it slow, so dating works for me.”
She traces patterns on my chest with her finger. “I think we’ve moved way beyond that.”
My heart stutters, and panic is waiting in the wings. “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
“No!” She circles her arms around my neck, and I pull her hot body against mine. “It’s far too late for me to protect my heart. We’re both way too invested.”
I capture her lips in mine, pulling her flush against me, my erection hardening to the point of pain as her taut nipples press into my chest. But I keep my hands loosely on her spine and resist the urge to thrust my hips up into her pelvis, kissing her slowly and passionately, pouring everything I’m feeling into every brush of our lips, every sweep of our tongues. When I reach the point of no return, I gently break the kiss, wrapping my arms around her shoulder and holding her face to my chest. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, pressing a delicate kiss to my left pec.
The bed sways ever so gently as the plane accelerates, taking off into the sky.
“Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more about it when we get home, and we can call Kat and see what she thinks. If moving Luc in with us will help his recovery, then I’m all for it. But only with you by my side.”
“Together,” she murmurs in a sleepy tone, and I drift off to sleep rocking her gently in my arms, committing my new favorite word to memory.
CHAPTER 29
Zeta
I bolt upright, awoken by shouting and movement in the bed. Ryder is thrashing about, legs entangled in the sheets, screaming and whimpering, in obvious distress. “It’s my fault! It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry.” Tears pour out of his eyes, and the most agonizing cry punches through the air, as if it’s been birthed straight from his soul.
“Ryder.” I gently shake his shoulders, not wanting to alarm him but needing him to wake up. “Wake up, Ryder. You’re having a nightmare. It’s not real.” I caress his face, continuously murmuring the same sentence, until his eyes blink open. He frantically gasps, as if he’s just surfaced for air, and I whisper assurances as I stroke my hands lightly up and down his arms, over his face, and across his chest.
The sheet underneath us is stuck to his back, and beads of sweat cling to his forehead, dampening the edges of his hair. “Sit up,” I urge, helping him lean back against the bedrest, before swinging my legs out the side of the bed. I continue to hold him, watching as his breathing recalibrates to more normal levels. When I feel it’s safe to leave him for a quick minute, I press a kiss to his forehead and stand. “I’ll be straight back.”
I head out of the bedroom and hunt down the flight attendant, asking her for supplies. “You need any help?” Mike asks, straightening his chair up as he looks at me through troubled eyes.
I shake my head. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got this.”
I take the bottles of water and spare bed linen from the attendant, thanking her before returning to Ryder. His legs are bent at the knees, and he’s hunched over his body, softly crying. My heart bleeds for him. Placing the fresh covers down, I sit beside him, wrapping my arms around his trembling body. “It’s okay, baby. Let it all out.” I hold him as he sobs, my heart breaking for him.
When his tears dry, I give him the bottle of water, urging him to drink it all. He stumbles to the bathroom, and I change the bed linen, tossing the sweaty covers in a ball over in the corner of the room.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispers, crawling back up onto the bed, looking at me with bloodshot eyes.
“Don’t be. We’re together. That means we’re there for each other through the bad times as well as the good.” I brush damp strands of hair back off his forehead. “And I understand better than most how past memories can haunt your sleep.”
“It happens to you?”
I nod. “Not as frequently as it used to, but, yeah, I sometimes wake up having had a vivid dream of my mom.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “I see her bleeding out. Clutching her fingers to her chest, trying to quell the blood flow.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
He kisses my lips, softly, a few times until my shoulders relax.
“I tried to kill myself a month after Luc jumped off the roof,” he quietly says, and I instantly tense up again. My heart aches as I take his hands, entwining our fingers. “My life was already a mess, and that happening to him was my breaking point. I got fucked up on drugs and booze and took my car out on the highway in the middle of the night. I put my foot to the floor, pushing the car to its limits, knowing I’d spin out of control and welcoming it.”
I fight back tears, not wanting to make this about me. He needs to get this off his chest.
The media reported details of his car accident for days, and I’ve wanted to ask him about that night, but I didn’t want to pressure him into telling me. I knew he’d tell me in his own time. What he says next surprises the heck out of me.
“You saved me, Zeta.” My eyes pop wide. He clasps my face in hi
s big hands. “I lost control of the car, and I was spinning toward the barrier, head-on, when your face popped up in my mind’s eye, as clearly as if you were right there, and I knew in that instant that I couldn’t leave you. I managed to jerk the wheel around so the passenger side of the car took the brunt of the impact. If I’d plowed headfirst into the barrier, I would’ve been dead instantly. As it was, every part of my body was shattered from hitting it at such high speed. I had so many broken bones, and I was in a coma for a couple days.”
“I remember.” I hold onto his upper arms. “I collapsed when I saw the TV coverage. When I saw how mangled your car was, I couldn’t stop crying.” I wet my dry lips. “I went to the hospital. I tried to see you. I just needed to know that you were alive, but of course, they wouldn’t let me in.”
I let my mind wander back to that night. “I joined the fans who were camped outside the hospital, and I didn’t leave for three days. My God, Ryder there were so many of them. The police had to put up barricades to control the crowd as thousands of people arrived to be near you. They lit candles, held up banners, played Torment’s music, and prayed. As long as I live, I will never forget those few days. The camaraderie and support were like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It helped to know you were so loved. To know so many people were praying for you to come out of it alive. When a spokesperson came out and told us you’d woken up and were going to be okay, there was a colossal outpouring of relief. We were all hugging and crying, and it was the first time in days I had properly breathed.”
“I felt you there,” he says, shocking me again.
“What?”
“When I woke up, the first thought I had was of you. I could almost feel your arms around me, almost see your smile, almost smell the strawberry scent of your hair. The feeling was intense, but I dismissed it afterward, blamed it on my wishful thinking and the cocktail of drugs they had me hooked up to. But it was real.” He crashes his mouth to mine, kissing me fiercely. “You were there. It was real, and I felt the connection. Do you get what we have, Zeta? Do you truly understand it?” His voice is almost frenzied.
“We’re soul mates, Ryder. It’s what my subconscious has always believed.”
He nods agreeably, and his lips kick up. “I think I’ve eradicated all evidence of my man card.” He tugs me with him as he lies back down under the covers. “Because that word makes my heart sing.”
I giggle. “Trust me, I think you’re good. The new-age man card allows you to embrace your feelings and still hold onto your masculinity.” I press a kiss to his bare chest, inhaling the musky scent of his skin. “You’re all man, baby.”
“Our bond saved my life that night,” he adds, the conversation turning more serious again. “And it forced me to face some harsh facts about my life. Rod had been bitching at me for ages to tackle my drug and alcohol dependence, so I voluntarily checked myself into rehab after I was released from the hospital. Spent ninety days getting clean, trying to come to terms with my past.
“And did you?” I snuggle in under the crook of his arm.
“Not really. I felt more in control, and the psychologist I saw in rehab gave me some strategies for dealing with my panic attacks and nightmares, but they didn’t go away, and I don’t think they ever will.”
“And what about the other stuff?”
He kisses the top of my head. “I can admit to myself now that I was falling into a dark hole again. Recently, I’d been partying too hard, and slipping back into my old ways, but I told myself I had it under control. These last few weeks have helped enormously. Being back in the Hamptons house has always been my salvation. I keep to myself, bury myself in the music, and avoid all other temptations. I never invite people back to my house. It’s my only sanctuary. My only privacy. And having you back in my life has given me purpose. Given me a reason to clean up my act.” He tilts my face up to his. “Because I want to be the kind of man you deserve.”
“You already are.” I stretch up and kiss his lips.
“I’m broken, babe, and a part of me always will be.” He looks so unbearably sad, and I want to erase all trace of sorrow from his face.
“I’m broken too, Ryder. Maybe that’s why it works between us.”
He’s pensive for a few minutes. Then he looks at me, and a wealth of emotion flickers in his eyes. “Before we get home, I need to know you’re mine. I need to know you’re in this for the long haul, because there’s more stuff I need to tell you, and I can’t do this if you’re still having doubts. I need to know you’re willing to work with me on this. To build something together. Something we should’ve had all these years but were denied.”
I prop up on one elbow, threading my fingers through his beautiful, thick hair. “I’m committed to you. To us. One hundred percent. I know we’ve still got stuff to work through, and I know it won’t be all smooth sailing, but I’m going nowhere. I’m yours, Ryder. I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.”
Things settle back down over the next few days even though Ryder has horrific nightmares every night, waking up in a cold sweat. Seeing Luc has brought it all back for him. I’ve moved into his room, into his bed, so I can comfort him through it, and helping Ryder deal with his demons is keeping my own at bay. I’m feeling huge guilt for cutting Luc out of my life, and while I can’t change it, I’m determined to be here for him now.
Ryder and I still haven’t had sex. Still haven’t moved beyond heavy kissing and petting, but neither of us is in a huge rush even though we’ve both admitted to being horny as teenagers. But this feels normal. Like we’re doing things the way they would’ve been done if we’d stayed together after juvie.
I continue to have weekly Skype calls with Harrison, updating him on progress with the biography and sending him my regular report for the magazine, and the articles are being well received. Sharing little snippets of lyrics from some of the new album has the fans going gaga for more, and it’s helping to build buzz for the album and the bio.
Being in the studio with the guys and watching their creative process play out in front of me has been one of the highlights so far. Ryder is their main songwriter, and while he usually comes up with the lyrics, the melody is something they all work on together. It amazes me how Ryder will come up with a loose melody, strumming it on his guitar, and then Gar will come in with the bassline, Micah will effortlessly pick up the rhythm on his guitar, and Scott will start pounding the drums in sync with the beat.
I’ve been so lost in the music, that half the time I forget to record stuff I should. But it’s all good. I’ve been taking photos and videos, and the plan is to link to them in the e-book edition of the biography to give fans a real intimate view of the process involved in writing and producing an album. I also spend dedicated one-on-one time with each band member on a weekly basis, asking them questions about their personal lives, and I’m getting to know all of them better.
They’re a great group of guys; although I’m still struggling to warm up to Gar, because he has a predilection for speaking before thinking and a mind that’s firmly fixed in the gutter. Just yesterday, he told me he’s jerking off so much right now he thinks he has repetitive strain injury. I rolled my eyes so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t roll right out of my eye sockets. From the sordid stories he keeps insisting on sharing with me, it’s clear life in the Hamptons is a world away from their usual routine in the city, where they work hard and party hard in equal measure. I worry about Gar’s influence on Ryder once we return to New York, and it’s something that keeps me up at night.
Ryder spoke to Kat, proposing the plan for Luc to come and live with us when he’s up to it, and she was enthusiastic about the idea, suggesting a change of scenery would do wonders for her brother. Ultimately, it’ll be Luc’s decision, and he’s not of sound mind yet to make that call, but I’m really hoping he will come here with us for a bit, hoping to get the opportunity to renew our friendship and s
upport him like I should’ve been doing all these years.
It’s Friday morning, and I’m in the kitchen making eggs and bacon for breakfast with the boys grouped around the counter behind me. Poor little Mattie is sick at the moment, so Linda and Scott have been holed up in the guesthouse looking after the little guy. Louise is on loud speaker, currently flirting up a storm with Ryder, Micah, and Garrett. I’ve been calling her a couple times a week to check in, and she’s on first-name terms with all the guys now.
“Garrett, darling,” she purrs, as I plate up our food. “I need another favor.”
“Another one?” Gar teases. “You’re a dirty, dirty girl, Louise.”
Three sets of eyes instantly dart to Garrett.
“What kind of favor are we talking about?” I say, pausing what I’m doing.
“Now, now, lovely,” Louise says. “Don’t you go spoiling my fun. I may be old but I’m not dead yet. When else am I going to get an opportunity to drool over hot, young men? My darling Garrett understands, so he sent me a dick pic, but I accidentally deleted it when I was trying to enlarge it, and now, I’ve nothing to get my rocks off to.”
Micah spits his coffee all over the island unit while I stand staring at Gar in shock, and Ryder is doubled over, laughing and clutching his stomach like he’s in pain.
“You sent her a dick pic?” I screech, rounding the unit. “Are you fucking insane? You’ll give her a coronary!” I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Chill out. I’m just doing my civic duty.” He waggles his brows, smothering a smile. “Helping the elderly is a noble use of my time.”
I shake my head repeatedly. “Do not send her another one. Next time she’s trying to enlarge it, she’ll probably accidentally post it online.”
“I can hear you, and I’m not a child,” Louise pipes up, but we all ignore her.
“The public at large is well accustomed to my dick,” Gar says with a gloating smile. He turns to Ryder. “Remember that video the bunny boiler posted? There were closeups of both our cocks on full display in that one, and I have it on good authority that our cocks have their own Twitter and IG accounts.” He puffs out his chest as if it’s something to be proud of.
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