by Paige Weaver
He was squeezing my wrists, breaking the bones under his hand.
“You’re going to like thisssssss,” his voice hissed, sounding more like a snake’s than a human’s. “That boyfriend of yoursssss issssss dead. He bled sssssso much when I cut him.”
I struggled but the fight was draining from my body. In horror, I watched as redness started oozing out of his eyes and mouth. He laughed evilly as blood trickled down on me, warm and sticky. At first, it was just drops but then it started gushing out of him, covering me completely, entering my eyes and mouth. Holding me down, he started carving designs into my stomach with his knife. I screamed again and again.
“MADDIE! WAKE UP!”
I jerked awake, fighting the hands that held me down. He was back! Not again! Please, not again! I started to kick at him, struggling to get away.
“Maddie! It’s me!”
I stopped fighting when I heard the familiar voice.
“Ryder! He was here!” I cried, sitting up and throwing myself at him. My arms went around his neck and held on for dear life. “He was holding me down and there was blood everywhere! It was in my mouth and soaking into my skin!”
He pulled me into his lap, shushing me the entire time. His arms wrapped around me, tugging me close. I was surrounded by warmth immediately. It seeped into my body and chased away the chill.
“He wasn’t here, Maddie. It was just a dream,” Ryder reassured me, his voice low in the stillness of the night. “It’s just the two of us. No one else is here. You’re safe.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, the awful images still there. Awake or asleep, the last twenty–four hours haunted me.
“Hell, Maddie, you scared the shit out of me screaming like that,” Ryder said softly as his hands moved up and down my back. With each stroke of his hands, my heartbeat slowed down and my breathing returned to normal. The shaking left my body, little by little, leaving me exhausted. Pulling back, Ryder looked at me, concerned. The darkness of the room couldn’t hide his black, swollen eye or cut lip. I cringed to think that I was the cause of it.
He smoothed my hair away from my face before dropping his hands to my waist. The soft cotton of his shorts rubbed against my inner thighs, making me feel that familiar flare of desire. His naked chest and the tattoos wrapped around his arms and torso only added to the feeling. I saw him swallow hard when his erection nudged me through his shorts.
“Crap, I’m sorry,” he said, looking away in disgust. He moved me off of his lap, putting distance between us. “Go back to sleep, Maddie. I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”
When he started to leave, I grew frightened. I didn’t want to be alone. With him beside me, I wasn’t scared. I was safe.
Desperate, I clambered over to the edge of the bed and grabbed his arm.
“Don’t go.”
“I can’t stay. I can’t be near you without wanting you. Trying to resist you is close to impossible and you don’t need that right now.”
“Please? Stay.”
I saw the indecision on his face for only a second. When he started crawling into bed next to me, I felt relief. His muscular arm went around me, pulling me close as the other hand flung the covers on top of us.
“I don’t know if this is smart, Maddie,” he said, resting his hand on my hip. “It kills me every time you push me away but I’m scared to be near you because I can’t keep my damn hands off of you.” He laughed but it held no humor. “Pretty fucked up but hell, everything’s pretty fucked up right now.”
His thumb made slow circles on top of my hip. With each movement, my t–shirt inched up a little more but I didn’t care. I was safe and starting to feel relaxed. Nothing could replace the feeling of Ryder next to me. I was starting to drift off to sleep when his deep voice rumbled beneath my ear.
“I was so scared,” he said, his voice breaking. “We parked a mile outside of town and walked in. It was a hell–hole. People were begging, sick, and starving. It looked like a war zone.” He took a deep breath and continued. “When we ran into the sheriff, he told us some guys were sniffing around, asking about you. As soon as he described them, we hauled ass back.”
I studied his hand, resting innocently on his abdominal muscles. It was capable of bringing me to my knees in passion, holding me upright when I needed it, or taking someone out with violence. He had more power in that one hand than I had in my whole body. Yeah, I was safe here with him.
“When I walked in and Mom said you were gone, I lost it. I was out of my mind. When we got to your house, your dad was lying on the ground and weakly pointing toward the house. Then you started screaming.” He yanked the covers off of his legs in frustration. “God! Your screams went on and on! I thought I would go berserk, listening to you. Gavin yelled at me to stop – not to go in the house and get ambushed – but I went anyway. There was no way anyone could have stopped me. That big guy met me as soon as I opened the door and I didn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him. But when I saw you lying under that weasel, screaming…” He laid his arm across his forehead and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve never been so fucking scared.”
Shadows danced across his face. The anguish in his eyes caused me to hurt. Most people would think that Ryder was hard and incapable of caring but I knew differently. This was a side of Ryder that he didn’t let many people see.
“I’m sorry your dad died, Maddie. He was a good man.”
Hearing his words, tears made trails down my face. I wiped them away, wondering how I had anymore tears left. Did they ever end?
We lay in silence as night sounds echoed through the open window. When his hand went lax against my hip, I thought he had fallen asleep. His rough voice proved otherwise.
“Go to sleep, Maddie. I’ll stay next to you for tonight.”
I closed my eyes and wished it would be for more than just one night.
Chapter Thirty–Three
Time passed slowly. For weeks, Ryder and I were roommates only, barely speaking and trying to avoid each other at all costs.
At night, we slept separately — me in his bed and him on the couch. Many nights, I had nightmares of men and blood. When I cried out in my sleep, Ryder would check on me but he never crawled into bed with me again nor did he touch me again after that first night.
Our days were filled with surviving, doing what was necessary to make it one day at a time. Ryder worked outside most days but he was never far from me, never leaving me alone. For that I was thankful. His parents came by often, as did Gavin. The fight between Ryder and Gavin was a thing of the past, chalked up to the grief and horror of that day.
We continued to live as best as we could despite the lack of electricity and the threat of war. News of what was happening was sporadic and not very reliable. Roger listened to the shortwave radio and sometimes a lone traveler would stop but it didn’t happen very often. From what we learned, conditions had not changed. In fact, things had become worse. Millions of people were dying from starvation, dehydration, diseases, or the war. Thousands were vacating the cities. Not only was the United States under attack but Americans were also fighting Americans. There was no societal structure left, no police, and no government. There were reports that the terrorists had landed on our soil and were scouring the countryside in droves. We didn’t know how safe we were but Ryder made me keep a gun on me at all times.
I thought of my dad and cried for him often. Ryder took me back to his grave every few days. Each time, I didn’t dare go into the house. One day, I would return but for now the horrific memories were still too fresh in my mind to venture inside. My house was no longer my home. It was a place of death and sadness, somewhere I didn’t want to go.
Most of our days were spent in silence. The only time Ryder and I talked was during meals and even then our conversations centered on simple things such as the weather or surviving. Ryder insisted on teaching me how to make fire using only sticks and the best way to purify creek water. He taught me how to tie a knot that would hold
anything and how to set a small trap.
But we never talked about us.
~~~~
It was early one morning that things begin to change. Ryder announced he was going hunting and insisted I go too. I refused.
"I’m not leaving you alone. You’re coming," he said, growing angry.
We were standing in the kitchen, glaring at each other, neither of us willing to bend. He wanted me to go hunting with him. I just wanted to stay home.
It was the end of September and still hot. My threadbare shorts were now hanging off of my body and my t–shirt had seen better days. I had lost weight over the past few weeks but what did a person expect when we lived off of canned goods, wild game, and the occasional vegetable from the garden?
I wasn’t feeling too well that morning so I was determined to stay behind. I thought that I was getting a cold because the nights had turned chilly despite the warm daytime temperatures.
“I don’t want to go,” I whined. I know I sounded childish but my stomach was churning and I didn’t want to go traipsing through the woods. I refused to tell Ryder that I was sick. If he could become so cold and distant toward me, I could keep a simple thing such as a little stomachache from him.
“You’re going. We’re getting low on meat and you need to know how to kill and skin an animal,” he insisted as he loaded a rifle with bullets. He laid it down on the kitchen table and started loading a second rifle.
I watched his long fingers work effortlessly for a second before my gaze traveled up his trim body. He had also lost weight over the last couple of weeks, becoming leaner and harder. My mouth watered as his muscles flexed beneath his tan shirt and worn jeans. The ever–present baseball cap shielded his eyes and left his unshaven jaw bare, begging to be caressed.
“I’m not killing anything,” I said stubbornly, ignoring the heat rushing through my body.
“If something ever happened to me, you need to know how to survive,” he said, finally looking at me. "That means killing something."
I squirmed under his gaze. “Don’t say that, Ryder. Nothing will ever happen to you.”
He stayed quiet, refusing to argue further with me. Crossing his arms over his chest, his icy stare drilled into me, breaking my resistance to mere pieces.
~~~~
The woods were shaded and silent as we crept through them. I followed Ryder closely, my stomach churning the whole time. I tried to focus on the hunt but it was impossible to do with the way I felt.
After about half an hour, I tried to shoot a squirrel but missed (which I was secretly thankful for). An hour after that, Ryder shot a good–sized buck, sending it to the ground with only one shot. The wind blew dead leaves around the animal’s body while sunlight peeked through the canopy of branches above us, spotlighting his kill. As my eyes ran over the deer, my stomach churned in protest.
Ryder pulled a large hunting knife from his jean’s pocket and kneeled down next to the deer.
“I’ve got to gut it before we take it back.”
I averted my eyes when he placed the tip of the knife near the deer’s lower abdomen.
“Maddie?”
I turned away, wrapping my arms around my middle in comfort.
“I can’t, Ryder,” I said, barely able to get the words out.
“Okay. We’ll work up to the field dressing later. Just don’t look.”
I soon realized that having my back turned didn’t help. First, I heard a cutting sound and then an awful smell hit me. I covered my mouth, fighting the nausea but it was too powerful to ignore.
“Oh, no!” I cried, running over to a fallen log and losing my breakfast in the dirt and leaves.
“Maddie? Are you okay?”
I shook my head as another wave of nausea hit me.
“Shit!” Ryder said, distressed. Within a second, he was kneeling beside me in the dirt.
For the first time in weeks, he touched me. His warm hand rested on my back for a second before disappearing.
“Take a drink.”
I felt weak and shaky as I took the water he offered. Taking a long drink didn’t help much but it did make my raw throat feel better.
“I’m sorry I made you do this, Maddie. Let’s just head back,” he said, helping me to my feet.
“No, you stay. I’ll go.”
He shook his head, staring down at me coolly.
“I have a gun and it’s a short walk. I’ll be fine,” I said.
When he opened his mouth to argue, I added, “We need that meat, Ryder.” No longer did I have an appetite but I knew that he was getting tired of eating meals that came from a can. Right now food was more important than my queasy stomach.
“Three shots in a row and I’ll come running, understand?” That was our signal for trouble — three gunshots, one right after the other.
I nodded. Leaning closer, he gathered my long hair in one hand. Taking off his baseball cap, he placed it on my head, tucking my hair underneath. I knew what he was doing. If any strangers wandered onto our land, they might see a woman alone as an easy target. With my long hair hidden beneath a hat, I appeared as only a boy from a distance, keeping me safe.
Ryder was standing so close that I could smell him. Something woodsy, sexy. Something that spoke to my insides, making them come alive. Glancing down at my lips, his hands lingered on the back of my nape. His fingers lightly brushed across my skin, burning me. My heart jumped when his eyes met mine again. Gone was the coldness. Now hunger blazed from his eyes, leaving me spellbound.
A split second later, I watched as a blanket came down, hiding his emotions. His whiskered jaw clenched before he turned away.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said over his shoulder, returning to the deer.
As I walked home, I tried to pay attention to my surroundings but my mind was on Ryder. I ached for him still.
We were living in the same house, we were together twenty–four hours a day, seven days a week but I missed him with all my being.
~~~~
By the time I made it home, I was feeling sick again. Pulling out some homemade bread that Janice made, I took a few small bites, hoping it would help settle my stomach. Instead, the nausea became worse. Suddenly feeling weak and sick, I plopped down in a kitchen chair. Closing my eyes and resting my head in my hands, I tried to push the queasiness away.
Knowing I couldn’t hold it down any longer, I ran outside. In what had to be an all–time fastest record, I crossed the porch and made it to the edge of the grass before my stomach emptied its contents for the third time that morning.
My body shook violently, sending chills through me. Did I have a stomach bug? The flu? I hadn’t felt good for a couple of weeks but the nausea had just started.
Suddenly, all the blood drained from my face. Pushing myself to my feet, I feebly made my way back into the house. Going through the kitchen, I hurried into the extra bedroom where a small desk stood against a stark white wall.
Pulling open the top drawer, I yanked out the Sports Illustrated calendar that Ryder always kept there. Ignoring the blonde smiling back at me from the month of August, I ran a shaky finger over the dates. My heart started pumping wildly in my chest.
I was over a month late.
I was pregnant.
Chapter Thirty–Four
“Maddie?” Ryder yelled.
The back door slam shut, echoing throughout the house. I lay in bed, curled on my side, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was pregnant.
Fright flowed through me, making the nausea return. What was he going to say? He didn’t want a relationship and I didn’t want to push him into having one because of a baby. Without question, I wanted this child but how could I tell him when he didn’t love me? And how would we bring a baby into this Godforsaken world?
“Shit, you scared me!” he said, stopping in the bedroom doorway to glare my direction.
I pushed myself into a sitting position and met his stare. He looked rugged in his worn jeans and the cot
ton shirt that hugged his body perfectly. His light brown hair was in desperate need of a haircut but looked sexy as hell, curling around his ears and neck.
“You didn’t answer me,” he snapped, walking over to the edge of the bed and frowning down at me. His cutting blue eyes were cold as they traveled over my body. “You look like hell. Still feeling bad?”
“I’m just tired.”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed near him, determined to pretend as if nothing was wrong. It was time to change the subject. Quick.
“Did you finish with the deer?”
“Yeah, the meat’s in the smokehouse now.” He scrutinized me closely. “You sure you’re okay?”
Oh, hell! He knew me too well to know when I was lying but I wasn’t ready to tell him the truth yet.
“I’m fine, Ryder.”
I know he didn’t believed me but he accepted my answer and left without another word.
Heaviness settled over me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him yet. By my guess, I wouldn’t show for a few months yet. By then, maybe I could come to terms with the fact that I might be having his baby but I didn’t have his love.
~~~~
While the sun slowly set outside, we were inside, eating a dinner consisting of deer meat and canned vegetables. Neither of us spoke, the tension stretching between us like a tightly pulled string ready to break at any moment. Ryder seemed distant and withdrawn, more than usual tonight.
I pushed food around my plate, anger replacing any hunger I had. I needed him now more than ever. I was pregnant and I was scared. But I was also tired of playing his games. Ryder either wanted me or he didn’t. The mixed messages he was sending me were annoying. And I was tired of living in this house with him as if we were two complete strangers.
“Eat, Maddie.”
I jumped as Ryder’s deep voice boomed from across the table. Glancing up, I caught him staring hard at me, waiting for me to take a bite.
“No,” I said, glaring back at him in defiance.