Chapter 39
Violet
I pressed the pen harder against the paper, the blanket I’d stolen from the living room draped around my shoulders. My hand moved without thought, the ink tracing idle lines more for comfort than creation. Moonlight was my only light, and after a moment I realised I wasn’t drawing aimlessly at all.
Eyes stared back at me from the page, familiar, a hint of amusement caught in the shadows of his irises.
I crumpled the page into a tight ball and hurled it toward the trees, as if throwing it away could somehow take my anger with it.
It didn’t, of course. Nor did it travel far considering it was made of paper.
I never drew eyes. Or faces, for that matter. The fact that my subconscious had drawn his eyes made it even worse.
The back door opened behind me, but I didn’t bother turning until the wicker seat to my right creaked under a new weight. I expected Elena, not her hostile husband.
“I swear if you threaten to carry me inside, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.” Ryder’s butterfly knife lay crushed beneath my left thigh, close at hand.
“Does that mean you’ll throw something at me again?” he retorted, and I could have sworn there was humour in his tone. “I see you’ve been practicing with paper.” He nodded toward the notepad.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. I’d put money on it being his wife who’d sent him out here.
Dinner had been… unsettlingly normal. Comforting, even. Elena had carried the conversation without much effort on my part, and Hendrix had been… well, Hendrix. But the way he looked at her, as if she were the only light worth following, was strangely intimate.
Elena had said their story began in darkness, and somehow knowing they’d found their way to the other side brought a kind of relief I hadn’t realised I needed.
If they could make it through everything they’d faced, then I knew mum and I could too.
Setting down the notepad, I faced him fully. “Elena told me you’re a detective.”
Hendrix’s brown eyes darkened when he turned, though he didn’t reply.
“If I asked for help,” I pressed, “would you give it?”
For a long moment, the only reply was the wind whispering through the trees.
Then finally, he said, “If you’re asking whether I can pull you out of whatever mess you’ve landed yourself in, I can’t.”
The words hit heavier than I expected, settling like a stone in my gut.
“I don’t have that kind of pull without cashing in favours,” he added.
“Then I’ll ask for the favours,” I said quickly. “Just tell me who to go to.”
Hendrix tilted his head, studying me. “Depends on how deep you’re willing to sink into debt,” he said. “You have the Beast, but I doubt you’d be able to afford what he asks. Which means your best bet would be Roman Antonov.”
My breath caught, and I leaned forward. “How do I contact him?”
A faint glint sparked in Hendrix’s eyes, something between amusement and warning. “Don’t worry,” he said, looking back out into the distance. “You’ll meet him soon enough.”
The wind whistled again, rustling the trees and carrying the faint rush of running water somewhere beyond the cottage.
“I can’t stay here,” I said at last, breaking the silence. “I have to get back to my mum.”
“She’s already on her way,” he replied simply. “Why else do you think Ryder’s not here?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “Maybe because he feels guilty?”
Hendrix’s mouth twitched. “I’ve known Ryder over twenty years. That man doesn’t feel guilt.”
“Then why did he come back for me?”
“Why indeed,” Hendrix murmured, studying me curiously.
“I don’t understand him,” I admitted. “He’s hot one minute, cold the next. He literally handed me over to those men. And for what? Money?”
Hendrix gave a low chuckle but didn’t answer.
“You were fostered together, right?” I asked, desperate to keep him talking. To learn more about the man my body seemed stupid enough to react to. The same man who lived as if decency was beneath him.
Hendrix nodded, eyes unfocused for a moment. “Yeah. We lost touch for a few years, but we found each other again later. But time… it changes a person. Especially with the kind of start Ryder had.”
I shifted in my seat, restless. “What happened?” When I was met with silence, I let out a sound of annoyance. “His past isn’t an excuse.”
Hendrix’s eyes flicked up, steady and sharp. “Ryder might act like some hedonistic god, but he’d cut off his own arm if it meant protecting the people he loved.”
“Loved?” I laughed. “I doubt that man’s even capable of such a thing.”
“Love,” Hendrix said quietly, “doesn’t look the same for everyone. Ryder’s just learned the hard way that love doesn’t always save people. It can destroy them.”
I couldn’t sit still any longer. The urge to move, to pace and peel at my skin, was too overwhelming. Getting up, I grabbed the knife before making my way towards the trees. I expected Hendrix to follow but was thankful when he remained where he was.
I just needed space, a moment to breathe, to think, to quiet the storm building inside me before it tore through everything I had left.
The cool metal of the knife bit into my palm, and I found myself flicking it open before closing it again. Over and over, fidgeting as if the motion could calm me.
I walked aimlessly, the wind teasing. After a while, I found the source of the running water, a small stream that I followed until it widened into a lake, a crooked boathouse perched on the edge.
“Hi, blondie.”
I shrieked in surprise, flicking the knife out as I turned, only to find Ryder leaning against one of the trees facing the water. I stepped forward on instinct, moving until I had the blade pointed only an inch from him.
“Ryder,” I whispered, my heart hammering so hard it hurt. “You left me.”
“I did.” Reaching for my wrist, he tugged me closer, until my breasts hit his chest and I automatically lifted the knife so I wouldn’t cut him. “But I came back.”
“You think that makes it okay?” I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened around my wrist until he held the blade against his skin. “God, you act like you have your own atmosphere. Like you’re untouchable, and that your actions don’t matter. But they do, Ryder.”
His eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t believe you.” My voice cracked, and it took everything in me not to tremble beneath the rush of anger. “I think you fill this void where your heart should be with meaningless things and money, but it’s not enough, is it? I don’t think it’ll ever be enough for you.”
Red decorated the tip of the knife, a single drop glistening that had me trying to pull away. Ryder grabbed my arm, twisting hard until my back slammed against the rough bark instead of his.But he didn’t let go of my arm, instead forcing the knife up until its blade pressed against his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Fuck your sorry!” I screamed, trying to pull back, his blood hot as it dripped onto my hand. I didn’t actually want to hurt him, but he kept me pinned. “You left me there, with those men.”
His fingers tightened enough to bruise, but I didn’t have time to feel trapped. Not when I was too busy blinking back the stupid burn behind my eyes that came with my anger.
“You’re right. I sold you out, and I never planned on coming back.”
I shoved him with my free hand, but he didn’t move an inch.
“And yet,” his voice dropped lower, rougher, “I did. Because of you, Violet.”
I was breathing heavily, the coolness of the night long forgotten with Ryder’s body heat pressing against mine.
“I broke a rule,” he continued.
I stared at him. “A what?”
“A rule. My rule, and you made me break it.”
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Ryder, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His jaw flexed. “I don’t kiss, Violet. Ever. But I kissed you.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s that—”
“I don’t care about anyone,” he cut in, his head dipping closer. “Not unless they benefit me. But here I am, risking everything. Going against my own fucking nature, for you, and I hate it.”
My pulse hammered, my chest tightening until it hurt. “Ryder… I don’t… this is too much. You betrayed me, tied me up but… I just… I can’t do this.”
“No.” The word barely left his mouth before he pulled back the knife and drove it into the bark beside my head.
“Let me go,” I whispered, every nerve in my body vibrating.
“I can’t.” His voice wavered, but I refused to acknowledge it.
“God, what’s wrong with you?”
He let out a short, broken laugh. “Where do I start?” He finally released me, though he didn’t step back. “Did you know I killed my first man when I was twelve?”
I went still, the confession catching me off guard.
“I was so scared. I shook so fucking hard that Roman had to hold my arm steady.” Each word came out flat, stripped of emotion. “Want to know why I did it?”
I waited, not because I didn’t have an answer, but because for once the words had jammed somewhere in my throat.
“Violet,” he said calmly, “do you want to know why?”
I still couldn’t speak, so I dipped my head in a nod.
“Because he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
My stomach clenched, and I pressed my back against the bark just to feel it cut into my skin.
Ryder stepped closer, his palm flattening against the tree just above my head, closing the distance between us.
“You see,” he said quietly,“thieving wasn’t paying the bills.
Not with mum’s habit. And she wasn’t exactly looking her best anymore, you know?
” His eyes stayed fixed on mine. “So some of her clients started looking for something… younger.”
“Stop,” I whispered, revulsion clutching me in a vice, but he kept going.
“Do you know how hard it is to fight off an adult as a child?” He frowned, thumb reaching up to brush away a tear I hadn’t realised had fallen. “It’s fucking impossible.”
“Stop,” I said again, weaker this time.
“Why? Is this too fucking real for you?” he asked, anger cracking through his calm like lightning.
“I was hurt. Repeatedly. Brutally. Put on my knees and forced to do things that almost broke me. It’s why I promised myself I’d never again get on my knees for anyone.
That I’d never give anyone else control over my body.
Not even for a kiss, because that would drag me back to being that powerless kid. ”
My heart twisted, my body trembling as his words sank in. “Ryder, why are you telling me this?” I whispered.
“Because you’ve ruined me!” His exhale was harsh, his frown deepening even as his lips hovered dangerously close to mine. “You called me heartless, and maybe you’re right. But I don’t know if I want to be anymore. Not for you.”
His fingers moved to cup my jaw, and I found that despite my anger, I wanted him to kiss me. To use my lips to somehow fix the fractured look in his gaze.
I’d never seen him so close to breaking, like the smallest touch could shatter him.
“I fucked up, Violet, I admit it,” he said, his voice deepening. “I chose me when I should have chosen you.”
He finally closed that last distance, kissing me like he was searching for redemption. My hands fisted in his T-shirt, and I went to shove him back. But instead, I found myself tugging him closer, until I could feel the violence of his heartbeat against mine.
“I hate you,” I breathed against his lips.
“I know.” His hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth claimed mine again. Rougher this time, almost desperate. “I hate you, too.”