WYLDER

by Kristina Weaver

  I expect a softening, something other than the scrape of his chair and his contempt when he looks down at me.

  “You didn’t tell me any of this.”

  “Rory—”

  “I can’t do this with you. It’s one thing to be kept at bay because you’re injured and need time to recover. It’s another to have to deal with…all the rest. I can’t be the guy who has a traumatized girlfriend, Leila. I just don’t think I can deal with it if this is going to go on for months.”

  My throat is aching when he leans down to kiss my hair.

  “This is for the best, and I mean you well. Get some help, Leila. You need it.”

  ********************************************************************

  My hands are shaking when I shove the key into the lock and stumble into the dark house, the silence eerily comforting because I feel so adrift and alone as I walk to my room and strip down.

  I’m shivering, even in the heat, as I have been doing since Rory walked out of the restaurant and left me there to fend for myself. He didn’t even pay the bill, which is okay, I guess, because I feel so bad about how things ended it’s eating me up.

  Mixed in there is a lot of anger because some of the things he said to me after he told me to get help and I lost my temper…let’s just say that having the guy who just five minutes ago expressed his love for you tell you that the thought of someone violating me gave him the creeps is…

  Yeah, put it this way, things did not end well there. I yelled some really unflattering things at him, and trust me, everyone in that place now knows that I was raped by some pig and that my boyfriend rejected me for it.

  Because that’s what it was. The way he looked at me is what finally did it. I feel dirty and disgusting, and all I want to do right now is crawl into bed and cry under the covers.

  So, that’s what I do, and it feels good. With every tear, I relive the feel of his breath on my face while pain rages in the rest of my body. His hands, digging in, bruising me while his teeth mashed into my mouth and tore into my lips.

  His body in mine, burning because I was dry and trying to fight him off.

  I see and feel it all and cry because I had succeeded in making it small and in one moment of contempt and disgust, Rory made it big, so big I feel like my skin is crawling and there’s nothing I can do to escape it because it’s me I’m disgusted with.

  The phone rings around nine thirty, but I ignore it and curl in tighter, my throat too raw from the wracking sobs to make a sound. I feel awful and gross and wrung out, but in a weird way I feel free too because if this was going to happen, then thank God it happened here and not while I was trying to make myself push forward with Rory.

  Mika isn’t here, and I finally remember she’s gone to a friend’s house to rework her resume and get away from the house she’s been trapped in for weeks.

  That suits me because I don’t want company, and knowing Meek, if I tell her the whole story, she’ll hunt Rory down like a dog and do bad, bad things to him.

  I am alone, blissfully alone, and I use the time to cry out every iota of grief I have inside me. Grief for the rage I’ve felt but didn’t acknowledge. The pain. The feeling of betrayal when I begged someone, anyone, God to help me and no one did.

  I cry too because it isn’t easy to look at what I’ve become in the last months and accept that this has been a big part of me. I just didn’t want to admit it.

  I was violated. Hurt. I wanted to die.

  Accepting that I didn’t want life after what I experienced is the real heartache because after what Meek went through, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t ever take life for granted.

  And I have been. Wolf, Bear, they’re all right. I haven’t been living, and if this hadn’t happened, I would still be drifting through a life that holds no meaning.

  Nothing. I broke a promise I made to not only God but myself as well because I’ve spent years choosing the safe bet. My job was the safest bet instead of one I was offered in San Diego.

  I bought this house instead of the one I wanted because it was more cost effective at the time and I didn’t want to take the risk of getting something more expensive and upmarket in case I lost it.

  I’ve been living safe for a long time, and as dawn appears and the crying stops, just a few hiccups here and there, I feel like I have just woken up from a long, restful sleep.

  No, I don’t feel great, but I feel at peace. This isn’t about the rape or beatings or almost dying. This is about me finally letting go and saying I’m strong and okay and I won’t let the past make me. I make me, and I can choose what I want from life.

  So, I’m going to choose, and I choose…to live.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lyon

  I’ve been home for three days, and I’m starting to get pissed because Leila hasn’t answered one of my calls, texts, or the message I left with her assistant.

  She’s blocking me at every turn, and I can’t for the life of me understand why. We left things in a good, if unresolved, place the last time we talked.

  “Goddammit!” I mutter, slamming a hand into my useless leg, the cast groaning as loud as I do when pain shoots up my leg.

  I took a bullet on the rooftop of the compound we infiltrated, and the force threw me off the roof before I could catch myself. I fell a few feet, thankfully landing on the balcony below, but I broke the bitch hitting a table, and that was painful, let me tell you.

  The only comfort I have from that experience was that my bullet hit the asshole right in the kisser before I was taken out of commission. Admittedly, my anger right now is born of frustration because nothing can make a man re-evaluate life like a bullet and almost falling to his death, and I realized something when I was lying there with my brothers going nuts. I don’t want to live another eight years in a ghost town of my own making.

  I want to live, really live, and I want Leila in that life with me. Not as a friend or a confidante or just as the woman who’s a family friend over on Sundays because Mom won’t let her pull away.

  I want her forever. Intensely, and fuck anyone who thinks the love we share isn’t healthy. We have something that only comes once in a lifetime, and I won’t let her or me screw it up or ignore it.

  And now she’s pulling a vanishing act on me. And I can’t do anything about it because my goddamn leg is making driving an impossibility!

  “Yo, Lyon!”

  I hear Bear and Hawk from my convalescent pose on the living room couch and grin, knowing I have two assholes at my disposal if I want. Yes!

  “In here!” I yell, casting around to find my crutches.

  Dammit, Ma! The evil woman put the things out of reach against the far wall so I can’t move around. Meddling old busybody.

  They walk in with smiles that fade quickly when they see my grin, and I laugh because Bear may be our unofficial leader and Hawk may be a purposely scary sonofabitch but I’m no pussy cat either and I’m about to maul them.

  “Crutches!”

  “But Ma said—”

  “Give me the crutches, Hawk, and go get the car out, asshole. I’m going out.”

  “But, Lyon,” he whines, glancing nervously at the stairs, his face amusingly terrified at the prospect of helping me thwart Mom’s wishes.

  “I said get me the fucking crutches and get the car ready, Hawk. Bear, go grab me a clean shirt and my cologne.”

  They share a look, and it’s only when Hawk obeys amidst a lot of cursing and stalks out that I see Bear shifting from foot to foot, his face contorting in a mask of guilt.

  “You’re gonna see Leila?” he asks slowly, and I roll my eyes at his stupid question.

  “No shit. You’ve all succeeded really admirably with keeping me stuck in this house, but enough is enough. I have shit to do, and I won’t wait forever.”

  “Look, man, I, the thing is that we just don’t want you going to see her, Leila, I mean, until you’re at your best because well…I asked her to leave you alone if she was
n’t going to love you like you need her to,” he rushes out, cringing when my face goes hard.

  “You did what?”

  Don’t flip out. Just be calm and listen to the man before you shoot him. He’s your brother, Lyon. You love him.

  Bear shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks and shuffles around nervously, his eyes darting to the door every few seconds.

  “Don’t even think about it! What the hell did you say to her?” I grate, my teeth grinding as my temper spikes.

  “Don’t be angry. I just had a talk with her about…you’re my brother, Lyon, and I love your stupid, ugly ass. I can’t stand to see you running after her the way you have been if she’s going to stay with her boyfriend and ignore the fact that she’s hurting you.”

  “She isn’t hurting me! Goddammit, Bear, she could only hurt me if she hated me, as she has every right to. And she doesn’t! That’s the part that none of you understand. Hawk grumbles about how Leila is stringing me along, and Lynx is all up in my face with the blaming her shit, and even Wolf hardly talks to her when she’s around, but what none of you understand is that I hurt her! I chose revenge over her. I didn’t just push her away. I ran her off, and she has a right to despise me. But she doesn’t. She’s been great about it all, offering me her friendship when I don’t deserve the time of day after the way I treated her. This? This whole thing with you assholes having my back? I don’t deserve it, because I hurt the woman I love so that I could shake her off and pursue your plans.”

  I’m yelling and a little incoherent in my thoughts, but I can’t help it. Jesus. I never thought my own family would be so blind they’d see me as a victim in this mess.

  Me! The guy who played the villain.

  Bear’s flushing with guilt and a whole lot of discomfort as he swallows and curses under his breath.

  “I’m sorry I interfered.”

  “Don’t be. Like I told Lynx, I appreciate all the love, but be reasonable, Bear. I came back into Leila’s life after she’d moved on from me. I had no right to expect anything from her, but she was willing to give me a piece of her because we were so close once. I do love her, and I think she still loves me, but I can’t just barge into her life and start throwing my weight around. And you assholes sure as hell can’t do it,” I yell, waving him over to help me up.

  The pain in my leg is not great. It throbs like hell, and the through-and-through in my upper thigh isn’t a picnic either, but I grit my teeth against the burn and stand, leaning against Bear.

  “I need to see her. Something isn’t right. She’s not returning my calls.”

  “Uh, that’s my fault. I told her to leave you alone if she doesn’t…”

  I won’t hit him, I tell myself as he helps me out to the car and takes my crutches to deposit them in the backseat. I really just won’t make things worse by attacking my brothers, but I come close when her assistant informs me she’s not at work and I get to her house to find her in bed with the shades drawn.

  Mika doesn’t look any better when she shows me to Leila’s bedroom, and I get the sense this has been going on a while.

  “How long?”

  “Two days. She hasn’t moved, Lyon. I wanted to call you, but I just…I don’t want to make things worse if she doesn’t want to see you.”

  I get that, but honestly, letting Leila shut herself away isn’t a good idea either.

  “I’ll talk to her. Why don’t you go with Hawk and Bear and grab something to eat,” I say gently, throwing Hawk a look. “You be nice.”

  “Yeah, okay. Come on, kid.”

  I listen to them file out, and when I know they’re gone, I slowly walk into the room, closing the door with a soft click. Leila doesn’t move, just keeps staring at the closed drapes, so I have no choice but to get down beside the bed and take her chin, forcing her to look at me.

  “Lay?”

  Her eyes look empty, but I’m relieved when she starts talking.

  “You know, when those guys took me, they hurt me a lot.”

  God, the pain that shoots through me has my hand shaking, and I have to force myself not to tighten the fingers softly cupping her cheek.

  “I know, Lay.”

  “And he liked me, Lyon. He liked me a whole lot. So much he decided to get some use out of me before he left me to die.”

  “Lay—”

  “After the hospital, Rory wanted, yeah, but I couldn’t, and I thought…I thought I was okay with it even when my skin crawled, but I wasn’t, and I…I kept telling myself that maybe it was just that I wasn’t ready. And he got so mad the other night when I wouldn’t let him…and I thought, okay, I have to tell him because he deserves to know. But it made him pull away in disgust, and I just…I feel so dirty now,” she whispers, one tear tracking down her cheek.

  Goddammit, I will kill that guy, swear to God.

  “Lay, that is all wrong,” I manage, because the lump in my throat is so thick it physically hurts to talk. I want to cry and break something, release the anger I feel for what she went through.

  All I can do though is be here because I know that nothing I do will make her feel better and—

  “It was, but not…you know why I couldn’t be with him?” she asks softly, looking at me finally with so much sadness I don’t know what to do.

  “You’re hurting, and naturally, you need time to get through this. Take it slow, Lay. Just take your time, and maybe one day you’ll feel okay enough to be touched and—”

  “But I do feel okay about it, Lyon. I do. I just don’t feel okay when he touches me, because he’s not you.”

  Sweet Jesus, I feel myself go still at her words, and a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time spreads through me, humbling me to the core.

  “I feel awful about it, and I deserved Rory’s anger because it wasn’t trauma that held me back from him. It was this reluctance to be with him. And then I got it, and now, now, I don’t know what to do because I need something but I can’t ask you because I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”

  “Leila, you are what I need. Just you.”

  “I know, and that’s the problem. I’m not ready to be in a relationship with you again, Lyon. I’m scared and confused, and part of me thinks that I shouldn’t risk myself with you. And I know…I know that sounds so hard, but it just…you killed me. You really did, and it took me a long time to get back up. So, so, I can’t make you any promises, and that’s not fair. I can’t expect anything from you when I can’t give anything.”

  She’s crying as she says this, and I have to clench my body to keep from getting on the bed and wrapping myself around her. I want in her, all over her, with her in every way, and I will give her exactly what she needs. Fuck commitment and promises.

  My heart is already hers, and no matter what she can or can’t give me, whatever I do get, will be enough. It has to be because I won’t hurt Leila anymore. I can’t.

  “I want to be with you any way you’ll take me, Lay. If all you can handle is friends, we’re friends. If it’s me never touching you, I’ll be happy just seeing you smile. I love you, Lay. I always have, and that won’t change no matter what you do or say. Just don’t leave me. That’s all I ask,” I tell her solemnly, begging her to take whatever she wants as long as she takes just a piece of me.

  “Will you hold me?”

  She doesn’t have to ask twice, and I slide onto the bed and get under the covers with her, holding her to me with gentle hands while tears track down my cheeks.

  “Have you talked to anyone yet?”

  “Yeah, and I am honestly okay, Lyon, really. What happened isn’t this big issue for me, and I know you don’t get that, but it’s true. I’ve dealt with it in my own way, and like you told me once, things can only hurt me if I let them. It’s not the problem. The problem is I only want you but I can’t do the whole relationship thing. I’m not ready, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I shouldn’t even be asking you to hold me now, because it’s not fair.”

  “
Fuck fair. Since when do we talk about fair? It’s you and me, and whatever we need to do, we do together,” I growl, kissing her hair with as much tenderness as I can muster.

  I’m raging inside and on the verge of breaking down, but I force it all down and just hold her because she needs me and that’s all that matters right now.

  She doesn’t shy away, even when she shifts and her thigh grazes my shaft. Not a problem, because I’m limp, all my energy focused on being with her and giving her my strength. I feel myself quake inside when she snuggles closer and sighs, closing her eyes tiredly.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “Never.”

  Leila

  I wake to the feel of Lyon’s body blanketing mine on one side and smile when I shift and he grunts. It takes me a while to acclimatize myself to what I’m feeling, but after a bit, I realize I just feel okay. Not happy, exactly, but that aching feeling I’ve been living with for hours is finally gone, and that’s all I need right now.

  Shifting slowly, I slide out from under the covers and notice a lump under there where Lyon’s leg should be. I don’t want to wake him, but I’m curious, and well, I’m just curious, okay?

  The cast isn’t all that much of a surprise, but what gets me is the fact that I just spent hours in bed, sleeping beside him, and I didn’t feel it once. And he didn’t complain even though I know his position must have been uncomfortable.

  Deciding that I need to clean myself up because I feel nasty, I tiptoe out of the room and into the bathroom. The shower feels great. Warm and soapy and steamy, cleaning off the old pains in this clichéd way that makes me grin into the spray.

  The pain isn’t there anymore, and for that, I have to thank Rory and Lyon both. I needed to cry, so Rory’s insensitive show at the restaurant is just what I needed. Lyon showing up was the healing part, and I am grateful to have him, even if I’m not quite sure what to do with him yet.