Chapter 2 Ryker #2
Blake had talked about her throughout the years, had told us stories.
Hell, he’d even shown us a photo of her once.
At the time, I told myself I was fascinated with her because my friends meant everything to me.
Plus, I had a sister myself and couldn’t imagine not knowing every detail of Tessa’s life.
So, naturally, all that intrigue was simply empathy for Blake.
Right?
Did I happen to find her picture stunningly gorgeous? Okay, fine. Yes. And when I found out she was going to start coming around, was I a little more excited than Axel or Jace? Sure. But that didn’t mean anything.
After all, I was the guy who vehemently rejected the idea of dating a friend’s sister.
Been there, done that, got the emotional scars to prove it.
Back in high school, I’d dated my close friend’s sister.
When things ended between us, my friendship with him got messy, then ugly, then busted completely.
People can swear up and down that it won’t affect the friendship, but trust me, it did.
So, when it came to the men in this group? That line would never be crossed.
These guys meant too much to me.
That’s why, when Blake started dating my sister, Tessa, I completely lost it. Blake and I literally rolled around on her front lawn, exchanging blows.
So, as intrigued as I’d been about Faith, I told myself I’d never ever act on anything.
Famous last words. The second she started showing up in person, my logic died on the cross-examination of her beauty and all her enchanting mannerisms.
Like the time she’d laughed at something Tessa said, head thrown back, and I’d watched the column of her throat like a man possessed.
Or the first time I noticed the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous.
How she held her drink with both hands, like she needed something to anchor herself.
I’d forced myself to look away every time.
But one night, she’d caught me staring, and instead of looking away, she’d held my gaze. Five seconds that felt like forever. Her lips had curved before she finally broke eye contact.
After that, I couldn’t stop cataloging details.
The way she sipped wine slowly, like she was punishing herself for something.
How she’d go quiet when the conversation turned to families, her fingers tightening around whatever she was holding.
The night at the mansion when we’d both noticed Blake doing his weird superstitious thing with his poker chips at the exact same moment, and our eyes had met across the table.
We’d barely held back our laughter, and for the rest of the night, we kept catching each other’s eye, sharing this silent running commentary no one else was in on. Like we had our own language.
That’s when I knew I was in trouble.
And the more she’d started coming around our friend group, the more my intrigue heightened to levels I could barely contain.
I tried to fight it. God knows, I tried. But Faith was unlike anyone I’d ever met. Something about her pulled at me, made me want to unravel every word that came out of her mouth, decode every sharp look she threw my way.
She was a walking contradiction, all light banter and razor-sharp wit on the surface, but I sensed something heavier underneath. A weight she carried, no doubt from whatever hell she’d survived.
And then there were those other moments.
Like the night I found her standing in front of Blake’s building at midnight, staring at the sky.
She hadn’t heard me come outside, leaving after another get-together.
For once, her mask seemed completely gone, and the raw devastation on her face had gutted me.
Failing to locate the source of her distress, I wondered how many times in her childhood she’d stared up at the stars, perhaps to remind herself she was part of something bigger than herself.
In any case, seeing her like that … I’d almost turned around, given her privacy.
But then she’d looked over, and instead of the walls slamming back into place, she’d just … let me see her.
We’d stood in silence for twenty minutes. I didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t explain. But when she finally turned to go back inside, she’d squeezed my shoulder in passing, like she’d appreciated the silent time with me.
I’d replayed that touch for days.
It wasn’t long after that, that she almost broke that douchebag’s fingers. The day everything between us shifted from possibility to inevitability.
“HELLO? EARTH TO RYKER.” Blake’s voice yanked me back to the present, to the poker table, to my friends staring at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Did you just blue-screen on us? Should I try turning you off and on again?” Axel smirked.
“You still with us, man?” Jace asked, exchanging glances with the others.
I blinked, realizing I’d been holding the same cards for God knows how long, completely lost in memories of Faith.
Shit.
“Yeah.” I forced my attention back to the game. “Just thinking.”
“Ten bucks says he’s having a whole montage moment,” Axel said. “Complete with sappy background music.”
“Thinking about what?” Blake wondered aloud.
“Your sister.” Axel smirked.
If Blake only knew.
If only he knew that I could still taste her after what happened in Axel’s elevator. That little gasp she’d made when I first touched her. The way her fingers had fisted in my shirt, like she was trying to pull me closer and push me away at the same time.
If only he knew what happened at his wedding. How her nails had left moon-shaped marks on my shoulders. How she’d whispered my name between breaths.
I’d tried to convince myself it was all just physical. Just chemistry. Just two people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
But then there were the other moments. The ones that terrified me more than any courtroom ever had.
Like the way she’d brought me a bottle of whiskey—some rare label a bartender friend had recommended—because she’d thought of me. Because she remembered I drank whiskey. The way she’d laughed at my terrible joke about tort reform, and I’d felt it in my chest like something breaking open.
Or how she’d change the subject every time someone asked about her past, that careful mask sliding into place. How badly I wanted to know what she was protecting, what she was running from. How badly I wanted to be the person she finally told everything to.
I was falling. Had been falling since that elevator. Maybe even before.
And the best—or perhaps worst—part? I think she was falling too.
She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet. Not to Blake. Not to our friends. Maybe not even to herself. So, I’d wait. I’d keep our stolen moments secret, keep catching her eye across crowded rooms, keep finding excuses to brush past her when no one was looking.
I’d never look at bridal suites the same way again—that was for damn sure. Hell, I’d never—
The front door burst open with such violence that it slammed against the wall, the sound echoing through the mansion like a gunshot. We all jolted to our feet, chairs scraping against hardwood, cards scattering across the table.
A figure stumbled through the doorway, and my heart stopped.
Faith.
But not the composed, carefully put-together woman I’d been thinking about moments before. This Faith was shaking violently, her breaths coming in short gasps. Crimson turned her white dress into a macabre canvas of red, and her hair hung wild and tangled, dark stains matting sections together.
And in her trembling hand, she clutched a blood-soaked knife.
What. The. Fuck.
For a suspended moment, I forgot to breathe, staring at the blade. Watching as it suddenly fell to the ground.
My attention swept back to her face.
Locking eyes with me, she muttered four words that would change everything.
“I need a lawyer.”
For a heartbeat, none of us took a breath. Maybe it was the shock of it or how our brains can only register so much information at one time, but whatever the reason, we stood, unmoving.
Until her knees buckled.
Blake lunged forward, but I was faster. Always would be when it came to Faith.
I caught her before she hit the ground, my arms wrapping around her trembling body, pulling her against my chest. I told myself it was to preserve evidence, that holding her myself versus Blake doing it was the smart legal move.
Bullshit.
It was because if Faith fell, I’d be the one to catch her. Always.