Chapter Forty-Eight
Present - Evelyn
SO TIRED I could fall asleep standing up, I sigh in relief as we get the door to our condo open but come up short at what waits on the counter. There’s a full spread of nachos, pancakes, and a coffee jug that smells amazing. The weirdest combination of three foods, but my stomach growls and heart warms knowing each individual who is behind them.
We’d contacted my parents, Marcy, and Connor yesterday, told them that it was a motorcycle accident. A tire on Ryder’s bike blew out and it took us down, our phones destroyed in the process. A freak accident, but we’re okay.
They don’t need to know how we sat in a room, tied up and tortured. It’s a dark truth we’ll share only with each other, facing it together when we wake up in the middle of the night, chased from sleep because of the nightmares it brings. Just like we’ve done our entire lives.
Glancing around the condo, adrenaline begins to flow through me as I remember what it was like to be dragged out of it, but that’s when I notice the five heads lying on our couch, completely asleep. They must have used the key I lent to Ara when she’d brought the dress over for me. Our friends came for us.
Ryder rests his hands on my belly as he kisses my neck from behind. “Guess I’ll never shake them.”
I laugh, delighted that despite Ryder’s best efforts, they stuck around.
Theo stirs first, sitting up quickly and shaking Ara, who snorts awake. My eyes well up and I blink toward the ceiling as a stray thought crosses my mind, about never getting to hear such noises again, but then there are arms wrapping around me. Ara.
Then two more sets. Lou and Brooke.
“We were worried sick,” Ara blubbers. “Turns out you can’t just show up and demand to see whoever you want at the hospital. And you didn’t have your phones, so we had no idea when you’d be home.”
“Thank you for being here.” I sniffle into her shoulder.
“Thank God you’re back,” Lou mumbles into my ear. “I’m fucking starving, and Ara wouldn’t let me eat the food we brought until you were here.”
I choke on a laugh, mixed with emotions of every kind as Lou lets go of me and heads toward the kitchen. Ara hobbles after her, complaining about the pins and needles in her foot.
Brooke remains, looking long and hard at the two of us. “A motorcycle accident, huh?”
“Yeah.” Ryder answers, voice gruff.
“I’m glad you guys are okay.” Brooke’s words are accepting and true, despite the knowing glint in her eyes. “Are you done with motorcycles now?”
Ryder nods. “For good.”
Brooke nods, a silent conversation passing between them as Connor and Theo finally approach, shaking off the sleep.
“Mate, weren’t the tattoos enough? You just had to get some scars, too?” Connor smiles despite his eyes lining with silver. “I might jump you myself now.”
Ryder laughs, embracing his best friend and Theo after. “Thank you guys for being here. It…means a lot.”
“I wanted to tell you the news in person.” Connor grips Ryder’s shoulder. “While you were off grid, Living or Dying hit number one. They want us back in Tennessee to record the rest.”
“You’re kidding!?” Excitement brightens Ryder’s eyes as he smiles wider than I’ve ever seen. Despite the horrors we faced, he’s still got it in him to take part in the joy that life is offering him, rather than sinking into that hopeless, bleak place he was when I found him again.
There’s a knock at the door, slicing right through the moment.
Ryder and I flinch, but only Brooke seems to notice. “Want me to get it?”
Ryder shakes his head. “I’ll get it.”
Nausea churns in my gut as I wonder if we’re not as safe as we’d like to believe. What if the shadows still lurk, tracking Ryder’s every move?
I peek over his shoulder as he opens the door, relaxing when I see that it’s Agent Blackhall on the other side. But my relief is short lived as I take in the set of his face.
“What’s wrong?” Ryder asks, observing exactly the same thing.
Agent Blackhall’s mouth forms a thin line. “Where were you after yesterday’s events?”
“The hospital. We were discharged less than an hour ago and came straight here. Why?”
“Preston’s body was found in a dumpster behind The Swan. Mutilated. Indications of torture.”
My jaw drops on a soft intake of breath, but I force my eyes to remain fixed on Agent Backhall rather than darting to the man next to me.
“Can’t say that I’m not grateful for it, but it wasn’t me. You can check with hospital security. I never left.”
Lou yells from somewhere behind us, “Is that the pizza!?”
“Had to check.” Blackhall nods. “I’m sorry for intruding.”
“How are you doing?” Ryder asks, forcing me to wonder if perhaps their relationship had crossed further toward a friendship than I’d thought.
“Times have been better. Thinking about taking a vacation.”
I take a step toward the door, my heart suddenly aching for the man who helped Ryder take back his leash. “Would you want to come in?”
“That’s very kind of you, but I have a flight to catch.”
“Where to?”
Blackhall pulls out a silver lighter, flicking it open and closed. “Barbados.”
“Good luck with your hunt.”
Pause. “Who said I was hunting?”
Ryder smirks. “You don’t take vacations.”
There’s a twitch at the corner of Agent Blackhall’s mouth before he turns and makes his way back to the elevator. Closing the door, Ryder and I face our friends.
A sense of comfort falls over me, one I didn’t think I’d ever get back. I’d offered for us to get a new place, but Ryder said it couldn’t get more perfect than this. At the time, I wasn’t sure how he could feel that way, but now I do.
I was afraid that Ryder would feel out of place, too harsh next to the soft colors and simple neutrals. He’s a hard contrast against it all, but my sofa has never felt so cozy. My bed has never felt so welcoming. My kitchen has never been so inviting. And after ten years spent never belonging, I realize at last that my home has never once been a place.
My home is the boy who was orphaned too young. The boy who saw too much, and having never been given opportunities, stole them for himself. The boy who clawed his way into surviving, eventually turning to stone, an assortment of dark, jagged edges.
The boy who was softened by the hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair of an orphaned girl, too small for her age and a picky eater. A girl who blossomed into something special under his cold, black gaze.
She belonged to him. And he belonged to her.
The only home we ever needed, we found in each other.