Chapter 39
RYDER
“Jamie bippity-boppity-booed me with this shit, and I need it to stop!” I inhale, but the oxygen doesn’t make it very far.
“I’m itchy and twitchy and want to crawl out of my skin.
I can no longer sleep in my own bed, and the house is too damn quiet now that Jamie is gone, even with Jos’s constant sass.
” I fall back in the recliner. “I need everything to go back to the way it was.”
Kerry’s head tilts to the side slightly, her eyebrows drifting upward.
Shit.
I need her commiseration today, not her wisdom.
I groan, letting my head fall back toward the ceiling.
It’s been two days since I left Cole’s apartment and moved back to the townhouse. I’m about to go out of my ever-loving mind. The only thing I can do in all that quiet is think about him. All the damn time.
Fuuuccckk.
Kerry snorts, and I realize I said that out loud. “You know, I had a similar response this morning. It feels good to just let a “fuck” out sometimes, doesn’t it?” She grins, and my shoulders slump.
I switch back to work since that’s my only distraction. “I spent the entire morning yesterday rehashing what they found on Mindy and then the whole night trying to make sense of it all. Something isn’t adding up.”
She takes a slow sip of whatever it is in her mug. “Do you think maybe that’s because you don’t want it to?”
Ok. There she is. I knew she was about to bust my ass, and she’s pulling out the big guns.
I glare at her, and she just sits there so calmly and relaxed, sipping her tea while I want to slide out of this chair like one of those cartoon characters and melt into the floor where she can no longer see me.
When I ignore her incredibly insightful question, she lowers her weapons. She shifts us back into less threatening territory, allowing my anxiety to take a breather.
“What does your gut tell you? Do you think the PR rep, with her loads of sexy-quarterback paraphernalia and her obsessive tendencies, was the one threatening Cole?”
Based on everything the police confiscated from Mindy’s apartment, she definitely spent years creating a treasure trove of all things Cole. But why start threatening him now?
I tug on the neck of my T-shirt. “I don’t know.
She was definitely infatuated. She’d built a shrine.
Her closet was wallpapered with notes and photos from the last ten years.
But. . .I keep going over and over it, and I feel like I’m missing something.
” I rub my forehead where the pounding won’t cease.
Maybe she’s right. I wasn’t ready for it to be over, and that makes me want to ram my head into the wall.
I take some deep breaths and decide to surrender. If I don’t, I’ll walk out of here, still patting around this unfamiliar dark tunnel, trying to find my way out. I loathe it.
“I’ve never felt. . .any of these things before.” I let it trickle out delicately. “I never thought I could or, maybe, that I even wanted to.”
She sets her mug aside and leans forward in her chair.
I pinch my eyes shut tight, not ready for what she’s got coming.
“Ryder.” Her tone is so soft, and she gives me a second to prepare. “What are you afraid of?”
Every. Single. Thing.
“He cares for you. Probably more than you know. He’s been patient. Kind. Honorable. Thoughtful. He’s made you laugh and smile. He’s held your hand. Kissed you.”
I need her to stop as the fire licks up my throat.
“He asked you to stay with him.”
When he said those words, all I wanted to do was grab onto him tightly and never let go, but I’d only be hurting him.
“He doesn’t know anything about me.” I choke it out through my constricted airway.
She eases back, giving me space. “You’ve spent a lot of time together. I suspect he knows more than you think. Maybe not the details, but he knows you, the person you are. He’s seen this, what you do. He even helped you when you needed it.”
He’s helped every time I’ve asked.
She pauses, and it’s possible all the broken pieces inside me might actually crumple to the floor.
“What would happen if you told him? What if he knew. . .everything?”
My stomach pushes into my throat, unable to handle the thought of him seeing me that way.
I ease out slow breath as something deep inside cracks wide open. “He’d see that there’s nothing good or innocent left in me. Every pure, beautiful, peaceful thing I ever had was gutted from me each time someone opened that door.”
I meet her soft, pain-soaked eyes. “He’s the most stunningly beautiful and kind person I’ve ever met.” I point to my chest, my eyes burning with tears that won’t fall. “In here. He deserves nothing but that in return.”
Kerry is quiet for a long, long time, letting it all hang there, and I want to run. I don’t want to hear whatever will come out of her mouth because I’m afraid it might be the scariest thing she’s challenged me with yet.
“What if you let him decide what he wants and deserves?” She inspects her mug and tea bag as if that makes her question less intimidating.
“You told me his life is full of people’s expectations, building him up to who they want him to be.
What if he meant it when he told you he wanted to know you?
What if you take his hand and pull him into the darkest place you’ve ever been and.
. .you let him decide if he wants to stay there or if he’s going to run? ”
I can’t look at her or face any of those questions.
She sets her tea aside and rolls closer in her chair. “Ryder.”
I swallow, and it’s so painful I’m not sure my throat won’t rip open.
“I don’t think you’re afraid of showing him. I think you might be afraid he’ll stay. That he’ll want you anyway.”
Damn her.
A tear streams down my cheek. Then another and another.
“Maybe it’s time to lay down your sword.
Maybe you’ve finally found a place where you don’t have to fight so hard.
” Kerry’s voice is so soft it pierces all of my tender wounds.
“Maybe you’ve fought long enough, and it’s time you let someone else do a little of the fighting. . .with you and for you.”
I swipe at my face, trying to breathe through the eruption in my chest. “Even if he could see past it, I don’t know if I can give him all of the things he’ll want someday.”
“Maybe you just need to take the first step and let him in.”
I huff out a laugh, wiping my nose on my wrist. “That sounds like a shit load of pure torture.”
One side of her mouth turns up. “Well, it might be, but what if it’s worth it.
All of these things you’re feeling for the first time are good things.
You have to give yourself permission to be happy.
Not all the time, but you could start letting yourself be happy sometimes. For now. Until you get used to it.”
She smiles at me. “It’s time to stop punishing yourself. You not only survived, you’re a gift to the world. To every child you bring through these doors. You’re proof to each of them that you can win. Keep proving that, not only for them, but for yourself.”
“This is all I know how to do.”
“I think you can do both. Love someone, let them love you back, and try to save the world.” Her smile grows wider. “I think you may have already been doing that. Maybe for a little while now.”
I dry my face, and we sit in silence for a few minutes before she stands and hugs me tightly, transferring strength and courage.
“You’re not all by yourself. Ok?”
I nod, and she sends me on my way to shovel through the large piles of professional intellect she dumped at my feet. I’m exhausted, so they’ll have to sit there until I find the energy to wade in and see if she might be right.
Let myself be happy. Sometimes.
I drag myself through the house on the way to the kitchen, but stop when movement in the backyard catches my eye.
I watch through the window as Cole lobs a ball with his left arm to Matt, which tells me his wrist is still healing. Matt backpedals to catch it, wearing a Stingrays jersey two sizes too big.
“Matt’s been asking about him, so I had Tracker call to see if he could stop by.” Hope slides up beside me. “They have a connection.” She smiles. “He doesn’t say much, but Cole seems able to get a few words out of him.”
He was my safe place, too.
It hurts to think it, so I shove the thought away. “Any word on a placement?”
Hope weighs her head from side to side. “Homes for boys this age and above are a challenge to find. I won’t let him be tossed just anywhere. It’ll take time, and in the meantime, he’s making progress.”
A long moment passes while we watch the two of them—Cole giving instructions and Matt attempting to follow.
“How about you? Are you ok?” she asks quietly.
Not even a little bit.
I blow out a breath. “Not sure.”
Her arm slides around me, and she pulls me to her side. I’ve never hated Hope’s hugs, and I really don’t mind today. I need its magical healing touch, but also for her to tell me what in the hell I’m supposed to do now.
“You know, when Tracker and I opened this place, our mission wasn’t just to offer freedom but new life as well.”
She pauses. “That quote is painted on the wall for a reason. That letter “A” stood for something on Hester’s chest, but its original purpose backfired.
There was a reason she embroidered it. She transformed it from something ugly and demeaning to a beautiful work of art.
Eventually, she seemed to wear it with pride. ”
She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.
“We wear invisible brands that may burn for eternity, but with time, I think we can also choose how we wear them and what they represent.”
I close my eyes, so damn tired of running and fighting. “I’m so confused.”
She squeezes me tighter, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Track and I want nothing more for you girls than to wear them proudly, no matter how or who put them there, where they’ve taken you, or who wants to tell you that you shouldn’t.”
She turns toward me, her eyes welling with tears. “When you’re ready, we want you to embroider or bedazzle or tattoo the shit out of those scars. Baby, you let those things shine loud and proud because they aren’t going anywhere.”
I stare at this woman, who seems to know way more about this than I’ve ever known.
Her shiny eyes hold mine. “When you crack the door and let the light in, whether it’s to one or thousands, that darkness, that shame, it no longer holds the power.”
She slides her arm around me again. “There’s life beyond waiting for you, Ryder.” Her attention returns to the backyard, specifically, the man laughing with a little boy about his terrible throw. “That’s all we want for you. To love and be loved.”
I quit breathing to keep from crumpling into a ball, and we watch them in silence while I wonder if I’ll ever be brave enough to let myself have a chance at any of it.