Chapter 35
I didn’t even know how it had gotten to this.
One moment, I was upstairs, half-conscious, listening to Reid stomp around, throwing things into a duffel bag and muttering about taking Connor and me “home where we belonged.”
Connor.
Thank God he wasn’t here. Thank God for that sleepover at Liam’s. The thought of Connor being anywhere near this monster made my stomach churn.
Reid had shown up at three in the morning, the sound of shattering glass jerking me from sleep.
For one groggy, disoriented second, I thought it was a dream.
But then came the footsteps. Heavy. Deliberate.
The kind of uneven rhythm I’d memorized long ago, burned into me from nights of waiting, dreading the moment he walked through the door.
Something scraped against the floor below.
Panic seized me.
I stumbled out of bed, my pulse hammering, and rushed toward the stairs. And there he was. Standing in the middle of the living room, hunched like a predator waiting to strike.
Reid.
My blood ran cold. His blonde hair–once kept neat to perfection–hung in greasy, uneven strands that caught the faint glow from the hallway light.
His skin was pale, almost sickly, making the raw redness in his cheeks and nose stand out even more.
His eyes, wild and bloodshot, darted around the room and when they landed on me, a shiver tore down my spine.
His jaw was clenched tight, the muscle ticking with a rage barely contained, and the reek of alcohol hit me even from where I stood.
His shoulders hunched forward, his whole frame coiled with an energy I knew all too well–volatile, dangerous, about to snap.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I’d shouted, my voice trembling.
He didn’t answer. Just stared at me with this awful, twisted smile.
“You think you can hide from me?”
Ice shot down my spine.
I turned and bolted up the stairs, my only thought to grab my phone and call for help. I made it halfway up before his hand clamped around my ankle.
I screamed, clawing at the banister, but he yanked me back with brutal force. My head slammed into the edge of the stairs, pain exploding across my skull like a lightning strike.
The world blurred. Distant. Wrong.
When my vision cleared, he was standing over me, breathing heavily.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he spat, his grip was like iron as he crushed my wrist and hauled me to my feet.
Then he shoved me into the living room–and the tirade began.
For hours, he screamed at me, his words slurred yet sharp as glass. How dare I leave him. How dare I keep his son away from him. How dare I think I could live without him.
Every time I tried to get up, he hit me. A slap, a punch, a boot to my ribs that sent fire through my lungs. I curled up on the floor, shielding my face with my arms, but it didn’t matter. He was unrelenting, his rage pouring out in waves, every strike landing with brutal intent.
“You’re mine,” Reid snarled, his fingers clamping around my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grip was bruising, his breath hot and sour against my skin. Trapping me. Drowning me.
“You think you can just run away and play house with someone else? Think again.”
Tears streaked down my face. My voice cracked under the weight of my terror. “Please, Reid, just go. Please…”
He didn’t care, though. My pleas were nothing to him. Just noise.
He hauled me upstairs, dragging me like a ragdoll. The drawers were slammed open. Fabric tore. Clothes hit the floor in a chaotic blur. My head swam from the pain, but his words cut through the fog.
“I’m taking you and Connor home.”
Home.
My stomach twisted. That wasn’t home. That was a prison.
Home was Connor’s laughter at the dinner table. Home was the way Ryan’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, the warmth of his arms around me, the way he held me like he could shield me from every bad thing in the world.
Ryan.
A sob stuck in my throat. I pictured him the last time I saw him, the quiet way he looked at me–like I was more than just my past. Like I was worth protecting. Worth loving
He didn’t even know how broken I really was.
Would he still look at me like that if he saw me now? Beaten down. Helpless. A trembling shell of the person he thought I was?
I tried to shove those thoughts away as Reid yanked me back downstairs, shoving me into the armchair. My body slumped, too weak to fight, too battered to resist.
Even as his voice thundered around me, his venomous words blending into a dull roar, a tiny part of me clung to the thought of Ryan.
Then the front door exploded.
Ryan.
He barrelled through, eyes blazing with fury. A storm. A reckoning.
Reid didn’t even have time to react before Ryan was on him.
The force of the impact sent them crashing into the coffee table, splintering wood, scattering papers and shattered glass across the floor. A strangled shout tore from Reid’s throat as Ryan’s fists came down, relentless and unyielding.
For the first time in hours, the fear that had gripped me eased–just slightly.
Ryan was here.
They were a blur of motion, fists swinging, bodies colliding, furniture rattling with every brutal hit.
My heart pounded, hammering against my ribs, my breath coming in short, shaky bursts.
Blood smeared the floor. Ryan’s brow was split, a crimson streak running down his face, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. He was winning.
Reid thrashed beneath him, his voice hoarse and wild, “She’s mine! You think you can just take her from me?”
My stomach lurched. The delusion. The possessiveness.
I wanted to scream, to tell Ryan to be careful, to tell Reid to shut the hell up. My voice wouldn’t come, though. My body was trembling too much to move.
Reid let out a guttural snarl and somehow wrenched free, jabbing his elbow into Ryan’s ribs with a sickening crack.
Ryan grunted, staggering, but before he could recover, Reid’s fist crashed into his jaw. Ryan’s head snapped back. He groaned but didn’t stay down. He pushed himself up, jaw clenched, eyes locked on Reid like a predator about to strike.
But then–Reid disappeared.
My breath caught. “Ryan!” I whispered, voice raw, shaking.
Ryan started to rise, muscles tensed, gaze fixed on the hallway where Reid had vanished.
My blood turned to ice.
Reid was back. And he was holding a gun.
My breath hitched. The world shrank to the black barrel, to Reid’s finger hovering over the trigger. A cold, paralyzing fear wrapped around my ribs, squeezing the air from my lungs.
Don’t panic.
Reid’s eyes flicked between me and Ryan, wild and unfocused. He lifted the gun slightly, pointing it straight at me.
“Don’t you dare move another step,” he hissed.
Ryan froze. His hands half-raised, his entire body rigid, like he was one second away from lunging. My pulse roared in my ears.
“Sit down,” Reid jerked the gun toward the couch, voice sharp, vibrating with barely restrained rage.
Ryan didn’t move right away. His jaw clenched, tension radiating from every inch of him. Slowly, he obeyed, lowering himself onto the couch with controlled precision. Before he sat fully, he turned his head, locking eyes with me.
He didn’t speak, but I knew what he was asking: Are you okay?
I couldn’t answer. Could barely breathe. I just willed him–please, just listen. Don’t push him. Stay alive.
Reid’s hand trembled slightly as he waved the gun, pacing like a caged animal. His breaths were ragged, uneven. Then his attention snapped to Ryan, his face twisting in rage.
“She’s probably told you all kinds of shit about me, hasn’t she?” he spat. “About what a monster I am? How awful I was to her?” His voice climbed, sharp and bitter. “Like I didn’t do everything for her! Like I didn’t give her everything she needed!”
He whirled, whipping the gun in my direction, though his eyes stayed on Ryan. “I worked my ass off for her! And for what? So she could turn around and play the victim?” His voice cracked. “Run off and shack up with some other guy like I’m nothing?”
His hand shook harder now. He was unraveling.
His chest heaved with every breath. “You don’t know her like I do,” he continued, voice sliding into something almost pleading.
“She’s a liar, man. She’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, make herself look like some saint while I’m the bad guy.
But she doesn’t get to erase me. She doesn’t get to throw me away. ”
Ryan hadn’t moved. Hadn’t blinked. His entire body was taught, coiled tight like a spring waiting to snap.
“She thinks she’s better than me now, huh?” Reid sneered. “She always thought she was better than me. Like I didn’t put food on the table. Like I didn’t keep her in line when she needed it.”
A sickening chill rolled through me.
“She needed me,” Reid muttered. “She still does.”
Then he turned, stepping closer, gesturing wildly with the gun. His lips curled. “She’s just a selfish, ungrateful little–”
“That’s enough.”
Ryan’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. Low. Firm. Unshakable.
Reid’s head snapped toward him, his expression darkening. “What did you just say to me?”
Ryan lifted his gaze, calm despite the blood trailing down his temple.
“You heard me.” His voice didn’t waver. Didn’t flinch. “You don’t get to stand here and blame her for your mistakes.” A beat of silence. Then, quieter, sharper– “Harper’s stronger than you’ll ever be.”
Reid let out a roar of pure fury and lunged, slamming the butt of the gun into Ryan’s face.
I screamed.
Ryan’s head snapped to the side, blood splattering against his jaw. He didn’t even react. He slowly turned back to Reid, eyes darkening with something unreadable. Something lethal. Blood dripped from his split lip. But he stared. Steady. Unmoving. Unshaken.
“Shut the hell up!” Reid bellowed, his voice cracking. “You don’t know anything!”
The gun wavered in his grasp. His breaths were erratic now. Desperate.
And Ryan?
Ryan didn’t look like a man who’d just taken a gun to the face.