by T. S. Joyce
The ghost-sound of a resounding slap echoed through the room. You fuckin’ little freak!
Ryder closed his eyes against the vitriol in Robbie’s voice.
Desperate to escape his head, Ryder rounded on Lexi. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t. He should let her go back to sleep so Robbie’s evil reach didn’t touch her through Ryder, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted out of his head, and Lexi could make it all better.
Ryder pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. When he plunged his tongue deeply into her mouth, she gasped. Keep her.
But then she gave him salvation. She didn’t push him away and tell him to get his shit together. Lexi—his Lexi—slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. And as if she knew what he needed, she straddled his hips and rocked against his half-mast erection. That did it. He hardened by the second, and she was already wet. She would be so fuckin’ tight right now because he wasn’t taking the time to prepare her, but fuck it. He needed her wrapped around his dick now. He needed to lose his mind.
Ryder flipped her over onto her hands and knees and gripped her hips as he pushed into her. Stroke one, and the tension was already easing from his shoulders. She cried out as he pushed into her again, and as he froze, thinking he’d hurt her, she gasped out, “Harder!”
Fuck, she was saving him, and she didn’t even know it.
Ryder reared back and thrust into her again, buried himself balls deep inside her. He didn’t stop but pummeled her until she was screaming his name, touching herself, rubbing her own clit. His balls clenched as he yelled out and shot his load into her. He wanted every creamy drop he had to give inside of Lexi right now. He wanted her messy. He wanted it running down her thighs and pooling on the bed sheets. He wanted her to smell like him, salty and rutting.
Lexi came hard, clenching his dick in quick, pulsing release as she moaned over and over. Good mate, knowing what he needed.
Like she had no bones at all, Lexi fell forward on her elbows, chest heaving and ass up in the air. So fucking sexy, but he shouldn’t have done this. Not as a reaction to Robbie. She deserved better.
With a slick sound, Ryder pulled his dick out of her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. Fuckin’ failure.
“What for?” she asked, confusion tainting her pretty voice.
Ryder grabbed his cell phone from where he’d dropped it, snatched his jeans off the floor, and bolted out of the bedroom.
“Ryder!” Lexi called. Her bare footsteps sounded hollowly on the floorboards behind him, but she wasn’t fast like him. She wasn’t a freak like him.
He bolted for the woods and then hid in the shadows. He hated himself as he watched her cry on the front porch. He wanted to rip his hair out and scream as the flashbacks pummeled him again. Robbie was supposed to care for him more than anyone in the world, but he’d broken him instead. Not just once or twice, but systematically for years. Pain made up his first memory. Fucking Robbie and fucking shifter healing that allowed that prick to hurt him as much as he wanted.
He should’ve told mom. She would’ve killed him, and then Robbie wouldn’t be scratching at the locked safe of nightmare memories. Or he should’ve told Mason. Mason would’ve split Robbie from dick to throat and pissed on his intestines, but abuse didn’t work like that. The physical part hurt, but the mental part was even worse. Abusers knew how to make their victims think the pain was their own goddamned fault. If Ryder had only been good enough, or human enough, Robbie wouldn’t have had to hurt him. Blah, blah, fuckin’ blah. Robbie’s apologies afterward were always the same. Non-existent or blaming Ryder for not being a better kid.
Fuckin’ little freak, you better not tell your mom. Little pussy. Are you still crying? God! Sometimes I really hate you.
He used to lock him in a dark closet afterward so Ryder could think about what he’d done. It was a cop-out. Robbie was just hiding his bruises and cuts and broken pieces from the world. Ryder had been scared of the dark, but did Robbie give a fuck about that? No. He reveled in Ryder’s crying. Told him over and over it was time to “man up.” Five fucking years old, and he needed to man up after being beaten?
Ryder remembered Robbie fighting his mom hard to get time with him, but then he would leave him for days with Ryder’s grandparents. And when he did show up, his temper was like dynamite, the fuse already lit and half-burned up. If Ryder wasn’t the perfect little pretend-human in every way, he got shattered. Ryder would Change into his owl out of terror, and it would make his real dad even madder. Robbie was openly anti-shifter and so ashamed of Ryder’s inner owlet.
Ima beat that animal right out of you.
Five fucking years old, and Ryder had twenty memories of abuse to conjure in flashbacks. Stupid fucking mind for being like a steel trap, clinging to all the goddamn horrors. He was supposed to love me! Ryder clutched the back of his head and wished to God he could cut that part of his brain out of his skull.
In the porchlight, Lexi wiped her damp cheeks and went back inside, closed the door behind her with a soft click. Good, at least she was safe, and now he could get ahold of himself the only way he could think of. Ryder strode along the edge of the woods until he reached his cabin up the hill, and then he bolted up the ladder and sat down on the roof like he and Clinton used to do when the world got too fucking heavy to shoulder. Spinning the phone end over end between his fingers, Ryder stared at the blue half-moon surrounded by all her stars.
Ryder hit the speed dial for home. Two rings and then, “Boy, you okay?”
At the sound of Mason’s voice, Ryder wanted to curl up in a ball and cry like a fucking baby.
“No,” he said, his voice breaking on the word.
“You want your momma to hear?”
Ryder shook his head like Mason could see it, swallowed hard, and forced the answer past his tightened vocal chords. “No.”
“Hang on, I’m headed to the roof.”
A minute of static on the line later, and Mason said, “Boy, tell me you can see that moon.”
“I’m looking at it right now.” The same one, and somehow that made him feel better, like he wasn’t so far away from the man who should’ve been his real, biological father.
“Tell me.” Mason’s voice was deep and sleepy, somber.
“Robbie sent me a message.”
“Fuck.” A rasping sound came through like Mason was rubbing his hand over and over his beard. “Fuckin’ mother fucking fucker.”
Ryder huffed a hollow laugh. “Yep, that’s about right.”
“Tell me what it said.”
And he did. Ryder repeated the messages word-for-word from memory because apparently his mind was broken enough to cling tight to the shit that hurt him the most.
“You know, I told him this would happen. I called it. I told him not to give up his rights because he would regret it someday and come crawling back, and look what happened. I want to kill him. Not because I’m jealous he’s your real dad, but because he’s a fuckin’ asshole. Messin’ with your head like this,” Mason grumbled. “Well good. I’m glad he’s dyin’. I hope it’s going slow for him. What are you gonna do?”
Feeling completely lost, Ryder shook his head for a long time. “I met a girl.”
Mason was quiet for the span of three breaths before he murmured, “The girl?”
“I think so. I get heat in my chest around her, and she makes me want to fix all the bad shit in my head just to be good enough for her.”
“And now Robbie comes along.”
“Exactly. Terrible timing.” Ryder was tempted to tell him everything. Every awful memory Robbie had given him, but what good would that do now? It would only make Mason and Mom think they’d messed up somewhere along the line and been unapproachable. It wasn’t like that. Robbie had just convinced Ryder that if he tattled, he was weak and would always be weak. And he’d so badly wanted to be strong like Mason and the other Boarlanders he’d grown up idolizing. “I can’t think of a single reason why I should see him. Nothin
g he could possibly say would change things. I don’t want to spiral, you know? I’m just getting my life together, and I don’t want Robbie to hurt Lexi in any way. And I just get this awful feeling deep down in my gut that the backlash would trickle through me and into her.”
“And it would, especially if you’re bonded.”
“I don’t know if we’re bonded. I’ve thought that a dozen times before, and I wasn’t.”
“You got heat in your chest around her. That’s a good sign.”
It could also be a good sign Ryder was just desperate to see signs where there weren’t any, and he was determined to take things as slow as Lexi needed.
“Ryder, you know I have to tell your mom, right? I tell her everything. She should know Robbie’s trying to get back in your life.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Will you call us tomorrow and let us know how you’re holding up?”
“Sure.”
Mason let off an explosive exhale. “Ryder, you’ve always made me so fuckin’ proud. Anytime I was out with you in public and someone commented on you behaving, or being cute, or complimented my beautiful family, well I just puffed up a like a proud rooster. And then I got to watch you grow into this funny, loyal, good man, and I get cocky about it, like I had somethin’ to do with you growin’ up right. But it’s you. You’re strong like your momma. I’m sorry for what Robbie’s done. I always hated it, but I’m glad I got a shot at being your step-dad.”
Ryder swallowed over and over to make sure his voice would come out steady. “Mason, Robbie’s just Robbie.” His eyes burned, and he scrubbed his hand down his face. “You’re my real dad.”
Mason sounded all choked up when he said, “I love you, boy.”
Ryder wiped his damp cheek on his shoulder and murmured, “Love you, too.”
And after they hung up, Ryder responded to Robbie’s message.
You have the wrong number.
Ryder wasn’t the son of some abusive, prejudiced, dead-beat asshole.
He got lucky enough to be the son of the most honorable man he’d ever met.
Fuck Robbie.
Ryder was the son of Beast Boar.
Chapter Thirteen
Lexi wrung her hands over and over from her place on the couch as she stared directly at the front door. Even if it took him all night to come back, she would be here waiting.
Something was wrong with Ryder.
There was some deep ache inside of him that he was trying to soothe. She hadn’t realized it when he’d come at her like an animal earlier. She’d just recognized he wanted her and got lost in the moment because she loved him wild.
But the sick look on his face when they’d finished pierced her heart.
He’d bolted, but she wasn’t angry. She was worried.
His eyes—they’d never looked so bottomless and hollow. And his smile lines had disappeared like they’d never existed at all. It was as if he’d seen a ghost.
The door creaked open, and Ryder cast her a quick glance, then away. She didn’t miss it though—the shame there.
His voice cracked when he said, “I’m sorry I left like that.”
He stood there, gaze averted to the floor, shoulders hunched like he had a thousand pounds resting on them. His jeans were folded neatly and draped over his arm. Perhaps he’d Changed and hadn’t bothered to dress again.
“Can you come here?” she asked gently.
Ryder ran his palm roughly from the back of his hair to the front, mussing his fiery hair. He clenched his jaw so hard a muscle twitched under his eye, but he gave in and sat beside her.
“What happened?”
The air grew heavier, harder to breathe. “I know you want answers, but I need a little time.”
His rejection hurt. “Why won’t you just let me in?”
“Because I don’t want you to see this part of me. Not yet. It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone, and I’ve only had you one week, Lexi. I want more before you run.”
“I’m not running, so—”
“You will if you see how fucked up everything gets in my head. I’m working on being good enough for you—”
“You are good enough—”
“No, I’m not! Not yet. I will be. I swear it. I’ll work hard and get through my shit, but I want to tell you everything when I won’t break down like a fucking baby in front of you. Okay?”
“Give me something, Ryder. Please.”
Ryder grimaced, baring his teeth for a moment before he composed his face and poked a couple buttons on his cell phone. He handed it to her and then stood and strode for the bedroom, leaving her to read the damning messages alone.
His real dad was back, messaging him after twenty-five years of rejection and silence. After abandoning him and signing away all his parental rights. And as she read Ryder’s simple, clipped response, You have the wrong number, she knew his story was much deeper than he’d told her, or anyone else.
His real dad was dying, and still, Ryder wanted nothing to do with him.
Lexi clutched the phone to her chest, and something white caught her attention.
On her lap sat Ryder’s apology, a promise that he was still here. There sat his pledge that he was trying. He couldn’t give her all the answers yet, but he’d given her the piece of himself he was able.
On her lap sat a long, snow-white feather.
Chapter Fourteen
“Sexy Lexi, tell me you’re off work.”
Lexi giggled over the phone, but it was barely audible over all the raucous in the background. “Sorry, lover. I’ll have to join you boys later. I’ve got a bachelor party, and they hired me for a few extra hours to play bartender and make snacks. At least it’s in the big cabin! Plus they are tipping like crazy.”
Something big shattered in the background, and Ryder winced away from the phone. “What the hell was that?”
“Oh my gosh, I have to go. Someone just knocked over a vase. I love you. I love you! Don’t get drunk until I get there! Oh, and Ryder?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Congratulations. I’m so fucking proud of you! Tell Wes hi. Okay, gotta go.” She made a couple of smacking kiss noises into the phone, and then the line went dead.
Bachelor parties were now Ryder’s least favorite part of Lexi’s job. She was a professional personal chef, not a beer wench for drunken, sloppy wanker-faces.
Wes sat down at the bar beside him and ordered them a couple of beers from Bubba, Drat’s Boozehouse’s newest bartender.
“Is Lexi stuck at work?” Wes asked.
“Yeah, she’ll be here when she can.”
A lot had happened over the last week. A major push from Ryder and Wes had the Big Flight ATV Tours building almost finished, and today they’d booked their first paid tour, happening one month from today. With the deposit, the business was officially up and running and cause for celebration. Nine o’clock was still early to go hard at the shots, but Wes had wanted to meet up for dinner, just the two of them, like a fucking bro-date. He would have given him some major shit if he didn’t find it so cute. Wes played like he was hard, but ever since they were kids, he’d always made sure they got one-on-one blood brother time. The little stage-five clinger. Ryder hooked his arm around the back of his neck and ran his knuckles roughly over Wes’s dark hair.
“Get off, asshole,” Wes muttered, shoving him hard. He rubbed a hand over his hair and grumbled, “Man, that’s why I like wearing a baseball cap around you. Fuckin’ knuckle sandwiches, really? You’re like a child in a man’s body.”
“You looooove me,” Ryder sang, then took a long swig of beer and waggled his eyebrows once at Wes over the bottle.
“Speaking of loooooving someone, how are you and Lexi doing?”
“Fucking awesome, I want to marry her and put a dozen owl babies in her.”
Wes’s face went completely slack, and he jerked his gaze away.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Wes said too fast.
Wes opened his mouth, then clacked his teeth closed, took a long drink of his beer, stalling like a pro. Ryder was a patient hunter, though, so he let him down his whole stupid beer.
Bubba set the burger baskets Ryder had ordered for them on the bar, but the second Wes reached for a fry, Ryder yanked the food away from him.
“What the hell?” Wes asked.
“Tell me what that look was for, or no food for you.”
“Come on, man.” Wes reached for his basket, but Ryder snatched it away and licked one of the burgers.
Ryder stuck his tongue out right above the other one and made his eyes as big as he could. “I’ll thuckin’ do ith,” he swore around his tongue.
“Lexi told Alana about what happened last week, and Alana told me.”
Ryder frowned and tossed Weston’s un-licked food to him. Four fries fell off the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and furthermore, Alana is being a terrible second best friend.”
“She’s worried about you, so that would make her an awesome second best friend. She asked me to talk to you, but I already know you’re a horrible sharer, so I just wanted you to know if you need to talk…you can talk to me, and I probably won’t make fun of you.”
“Noted, now what was that look really for? Because I know it wasn’t for that bullshit.”
“Nope, that was it.” But Wessy-poo wouldn’t meet his eyes, and now the Novak Raven was very busy stuffing his face with his burger.
Ryder didn’t buy it, but whatever. He had beers to drink and onion rings to devour and pussy to lick, because he was gonna get Lexi’s tasty little morsel tonight. His dick thumped against the seam of his jeans just thinking about her writhing under his mouth, gripping his hair, pulling him closer, begging shamelessly, screaming his name. His mate was a noisy little critter.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Wes asked through a grossed-out grimace.
Ryder took a giant bite of burger and nodded to the dark-headed loner at the end of the bar. With a gulp, Ryder jerked his head in invitation and said, “Kane, come be social.”