Ryker

Chapter Fifteen

We are both panting and bleeding, and I’ve come twice now, but he’s still pounding into me. He’s so deep that I can feel him in my chest. Before I know it, I’m already needing more of him.

I’m not sure what else I can take. He's already hate fucking me like a madman. I meet his thrusts again, and he smirks up at me where I’m still pinned against the wall. He finally releases my breasts. I look down to find it bleeding, with his teeth marks marking my skin. I glare at him.

“If I want to mark you, then I fucking will,” He growls as he bites the same spot again, this time going deeper. I scream a moan, relishing in the pain. I run my fingers through his hair before gripping it as hard as I can and pull.

A stinging sensation courses through my right breast, but I don’t bother looking down. I know he bit hard enough to pierce the skin. He stops moving, and we just glare at each other.

He keeps his cock buried deep inside of me. I’ve never felt this full before. He’s stretching me out to the point of pain, but with every thrust, the stinging sensation heightens the throb in my core. I need more.

He slowly turns, walking us over to the bed. He slams me down onto it, and it creaks under my weight. While holding eye contact, he slowly reaches for one of my favorite knives that I keep hidden under my pillow. How the fuck did he know I kept that there? The blade glints in the light, and I swallow hard.

“Scared, Angel?” He lightly trails the tip of the blade across my collarbone, and a shiver runs down my spine as he slowly works his way across my chest .

“Of who, you?” I scoff and roll my eyes, “Someone has a god complex.”

His only response is slowly pressing the tip of the knife into my skin, sliding it down between my breasts. He starts where Jeremy’s necklace lays and stops right where my bra would normally sit.

I hiss at the burning pain as it makes purchase on my flesh. I’m not proud of the fact that my pussy clenches even tighter around his shaft. He lets out a chuckle as he leans down and licks the blood from the shallow wound.

The grip I have on his hair tightens when he rakes his tongue over his top teeth, cleaning off the blood with a smirk. I follow the movement with my eyes, and a very small whimper leaves me. I try to suppress it, to suppress the craving my body is having for this man, but that was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

I’ve never had consensual sex. In a sense, this is kind of like me losing my virginity. Granted, he stalked me through the city, broke into my room, and fingered me while I was sleeping, but he gave me every opportunity to back out. Still, some sick, broken part of me wants this… no, I need this.

He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he kisses me. Hard. It’s so frenzied and dominating. He parts my lips with his tongue, and I let him, letting our tongues dance. I rock my hips and let go of his hair to grip his shoulders.

He slowly pulls out to the tip before slowly thrusting back in. Every time he reenters me, my stomach seems to drop. I gently run my hands through his hair, letting my nails scrape his scalp. He pulls back, giving me a puzzled look as he searches my face. I scan his in return.

“If you’re going to drive me mad, you will fucking worship me. You will beg for me. You will fucking pray to me, Bianca. When I am gone, and you touch yourself, you will fucking wish it were me. You invade my mind every second of every fucking day, and now, I will be hiding in the recesses of your mind, ready to occupy your every thought.”

Reading people is easy. I’ve done it my whole life—But at this moment, I’ve never felt so clueless. We sit there frozen, staring at each other for a long moment. I can’t take the intensity anymore, so I close my eyes and rest my forehead on his. I take a deep breath, and he starts to pump into me slowly again.

His words do something feral to me. My entire body becomes as stiff as a brick as I curl my toes, coming instantly. For the goddamn third time. With a grunt, I feel him pulse inside me. Even after we both come, we still don’t move. He stays buried in me, and I stay clutched to him.

We stand there for what feels like minutes. Once he pulls out of me, his jaw clenches at the sight of his come dripping onto my bare thigh. He slides his hand up my thigh slowly, gathering as much come as he can onto his fingers before he slips them inside of me. I gasp, too sore from our fucking session to do much else.

I open my mouth to say something, but finding nothing, I shut my mouth and furrow my brows. Once his fingers are out of me, I stand up, letting the come he just pushed back inside of me drip onto my inner thigh. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t move.

I slowly back away. I know I’ve made it to the bathroom when my back hits the door. I take him in one last time before I open the door and slam it shut behind me. I lean my head against the wood and let out a heavy breath.

When I come out, he will be gone. This has been nothing but a very realistic dream. I repeatedly tell myself that as I turn on the shower and get in.

I don’t bother letting it warm up. I’m ashamed of myself. I’ve said this a thousand times by now. I know these men. They are cruel and care about nobody and nothing other than their own selfish wants and needs, but I still tried to masturbate to the thought of Ryker. I tried to fight it. I really did, with everything in me, but the thought of actually being able to get myself off for the first time was too good to let go. I’ve never been able to do it.

What just happened in there was… Intense. For the first time ever, I felt something flicker inside of me. Something I can’t explain. It was like he was fucking the life back into me. Something that I can’t let happen. Some connection happened in the moment our eyes met. Hatred, yes, but for a split second, it was almost like… I don’t finish the thought. I grab a towel off the rack and hesitate with my hand on the door handle. I know he’s gone. He has no reason to stick around. He got what he wanted.

I turn the handle and walk out with indifference. I internally curse when I see him sitting in the corner of the room on one of the armchairs, watching my every movement.

I swallow as I walk to the end of my bed, where I had discarded my sweatshirt. Without hesitation, I get dressed. I don’t bother worrying about him seeing me naked. I just have to act as if he’s not here. He hasn’t said anything other than the warnings before he fucked my brain up, so I think ignoring him is the only way to get him to leave.

I slip back into bed, leaving the lights on as I get settled again. I turn onto my side toward him, staring at him. I make sure to keep my expression just as blank as his. I don’t know what kind of game this is, but I’m a very sore loser, so he better tread lightly.

My eyes start to get heavy, and I can barely keep them open. I can feel my breathing starting to deepen and even out. My eyes close completely, but my other senses stay on alert for a few seconds longer. It’s long enough for me to feel him brush the hair away from my face as he whispers in my ear.

“My Angel.”

◆◆ ◆

I rub my eyes as the sun shines through the open window. I sit up quickly, looking around the room for any sign of Ryker. I would have thought last night was a dream if it weren’t for the soreness between my legs and in between my breasts.

I scramble out of bed and check every dark space in the room. I run to the closet and bang the sliding door open, flinging my arm around in the darkness. My breathing is heavy as I run my hands through my hair.

I turn in a circle, and my reflection gives me pause. I take a tentative step forward and bring my fingers to my bruised lips, lightly tracing my lower lip with my finger. I tilt my head to the side to check out my neck. There aren’t any markings, but then I remember his bite mark on me. I lower my eyes with a gasp.

There is still a bit of dried blood in a few of the tooth imprints. I run my hand over the cut Ryker had left, pulling my hand away quickly when it begins to burn. I’m not sure if it will scar; it doesn’t look like it was deep enough for that, but it sure as hell will be there for a while. I run my fingers lightly over it, wincing at the light stinging.

What the hell was I thinking? He broke into my room and violated me. He wouldn’t be the first, but that doesn’t make it any better. Does it count as a violation if I enjoyed it? I didn’t exactly fight him.

At first, I thought Manzo had found me, but the moment I looked into those deep chocolate eyes, I knew I was safe. As weird as it sounds, Ryker doesn’t give me the sense that he wants to spend the next ten years tormenting me.

Sure, he’s a psychopath, but he’s the lesser of two evils or whatever they say. I’m not even sure what this particular monster wants from me, especially after last night. Every touch started with hatred and a dark flame that morphed into something light and airy.

The kind of sex you hear about in movies. I wouldn’t call it sweet, but it definitely turned into something it shouldn’t have. I wish I could put it into words, but that type of connection isn’t real. I made it up to feel better about myself, about giving in and allowing him to fuck me.

I’ve heard that sometimes, when someone loses their virginity, they form some sort of attachment to whoever took it in that moment. Mine was a mental virginity, a part of me I gave away to a monster. At that moment, maybe I didn’t want to see him as one, so I didn’t. I made up a connection to feel better about it. Yes, that’s all it was. That’s all it can be.

I shake my head and turn back to my closet. That’s when the smell of him engulfs me—the scent of a forest right before a thunderstorm—wood, pine, and fresh rain. If I could turn it into a candle, I think I would make millions of dollars. Whatever cologne he uses, I need it.

I go to my duffle bag and pause when I see the Goodwill bag with the outfits I bought yesterday. I think I lost them somewhere in the park while I was running. Does that mean he was the one who was chasing me? I grab my bra and matching underwear— it’s nothing special, just black lace, then put on my thigh and chest straps and place the weapons in their respective places.

I open the shopping bag, making sure everything is still there. The only thing missing are the sweatpants I had put on before. I shake my head and toss everything onto the bed, looking through the haul.

I put on the black joggers, which are about two sizes too big. I use the drawstring to pull them as tight as I can. Then, I toss on the large gray sweatshirt. I slip on my tennis shoes, grab two twenties, and shove them in my bra .

I head downstairs, earning a few glares from the workers behind the desk. This is a really nice hotel, and I came in looking like a hooker and leaving looking like a druggie.

Once outside the hotel, I use the burner phone I bought yesterday to dial the number I've memorized for the past few years.

“Who is this?” The familiar stone voice answers. “Nolan Burke,” I say with a smugness.

“Bianca? Jesus fuck. How are you? Where are you?”

I let out a sigh as I stop at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. “I’m around. Could you make it to the diner in the next twenty minutes?” I ask, keeping my head down as I enter the subway, slipping between the bars, running to the platform, and leaning against the pole.

“Hell yeah…” He pauses, and I hear a chair scratch against hardwood. “We can finish this later.” He says to someone else, and there is a long, silent pause. I think that he’s hung up, but the time is still running when I look at the phone.

“So, the diner?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Do you need the stuff?”

I think for a second before I shake my head. “No, I don’t have the money for it right now.”

“On me.” He says, and I hear a door shut.

“That’s up to you. I won’t refuse it. Won’t you get in trouble, though?”

He laughs. “No.” A car starts, and I furrow my brows. “Are you driving?”

“Yeah, I have so much to catch you up on. Is Jeremy going to be there? ”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “No.” I croak out. “Look, the train is pulling up; I’ll see you there.” I hang up the phone without waiting for an answer and slip the phone into my pocket.

Jeremy and I often went to the diner in the Bronx, not too far from the motel I used to stay at. It’s a cute place. It has a fifties vibe, jukebox and everything.

I take a seat at the booth in the back, making sure to take the bench facing the door so I know when he enters. The waitress comes over, and I order an iced coffee with creamer and peanut butter chip pancakes for me, and for him, I order a black coffee and a jumbo meal. It has three pancakes, three strips of bacon, two eggs, a sausage, and a biscuit.

Once the waiter has taken the order, I hear the bell on the door chime. When I look up, a soft smile spreads across my face. I stand as he approaches, opening my arms for a hug.

Nolan was a boy that Jeremy and I had found in a very similar way to how I found Jeremy. He had been sitting in front of a department store with a sign asking for spare change. His mother had disappeared again with one of her new boyfriends, leaving him alone.

Jeremy asked if we could help him, and I agreed. He had been sixteen at the time, the same age as Jeremy. They roomed together for a few weeks before he disappeared for a few days. When he came back, he was bloody and covered in bruises.

When I asked what had happened, he said he had entered an underground fight club. He had won three back-to-back fights, earning him five thousand dollars. He said he was recruited by one of the club’s owners, who had offered him payment for weekly fights. I knew those places were run by the families. But I also knew that most fighters never got investigated by the mob. I didn’t have a problem with it. He enjoyed it, and he made money doing it.

He didn’t tell me at the time that his trainer was an enforcer for the Hawkins family. When I went to one of his matches and came face to face with one of my nightmares… it was a shock. I spent the next few days begging him to stop, but I was too late. The enforcer knew his name, knew he was a good fighter, and wouldn’t let him go. He didn’t know it at the time, but he was a member of the Hawkins family.

He looks different now. He is bulky, standing at six foot two with broad shoulders and a triangle face. He has stubble now that helps shape his face. He has the same natural tan skin, and I can’t help but feel jealous. His dark hair has lightened a bit with natural highlights from the sun. He kept the same hairstyle. He likes it longer. It comes right above his ears and has the beach wave look.

His blue eyes shine with happiness as he takes me in. I hug him tighter before I pull away from him.

“You’ve bulked up.” I chuckle as I punch his bicep. “What do they have you doing? Benching sumo wrestlers?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Something like that.” He says as he slides into his seat. “So, what are you going by now? Last I heard, it was Sophia?”

“Sophie, and that’s dead now.” I mix my coffee with my straw. “I’m Joey Baker.”

He nods and cracks his neck before putting his arms on the table. I stop and narrow my eyes on his forearm. I clench my jaw as I lean over the table and shove the sleeve of his jacket up, revealing the tattoo. I glare at him, and he has the audacity to look sheepish.

“What the actual fuck.” I hiss in a whisper.

He rubs the back of his neck and looks out the window. “I’ve been inducted.”

“I see that.” I raise an eyebrow as I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “I leave you alone for a few months, and you go and pull something like this.” I gesture to his forearm .

He turns his gaze back to me. “They had been talking about it for a few months. Once Leo was killed, they figured war was about to start because it was a professional hit.” He shrugs, “They wanted me to be inducted anyway, so I did it.”

I let out a heavy sigh and run my hand down my face. “Nolan.

Those men…” I start, and he holds up his hand.

“They aren’t as bad as you say they are. Yeah, many of them are tools, but some are actually great guys. Plus, it pays well. I never have to worry about money or where my next meal is coming from.” He gives me a small smile.

I nod and look down at my hands in my lap as I tap my thumb to each of my fingers. We sit in silence for a few minutes until our food finally arrives. I wait a minute to eat my food, letting a few of the peanut butter chips melt from the steam.

Nolan doesn’t wait. He starts in on his bacon, throwing a piece on my plate. I smile and take it. Whenever we came here, I would steal it off his plate while Jeremy distracted him. He would try and fight me for it, but I would always have half of it eaten before he crossed the table.

“So, what’s your role?” I ask, taking a bite of the bacon.

He pauses mid-chew and stares at me. I already know this is going to be bad based on the look of worry in his eyes. He swallows, opens, and shuts his mouth a few times before finally spitting it out in a rush. “I’m a Lead.” My eyes grow wide, and this time, I’m the one who stops chewing. “I know you hate everything about the families and I get it, I do, it’s dangerous. But I promise I’m safe. I’m good at my job, and I have the respect of the men under me. The other Leads have become like brothers to me. It’s not all bad. I promise.”

I slam my fork onto the table, and a few heads turn towards us, but I ignore them. “They aren’t your family, Nolan. ”

He nods. “You’re right. They aren’t. You and Jeremy are. You are the overprotective big sister, while Jeremy is the pesky little brother, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t bonded with them too.”

“They are monsters who will turn on you on a dime.” I snarl. “You really think they would have your back if you get in trouble? Would they take a bullet for you? Would they do everything in their power to stop one of the higher-ups from burying you six feet under?” I cock my head. “Because I can guarantee you they will stand by and let it happen.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do.” I hiss, trying to keep my voice low so I can’t be overheard. “More than you know. They aren’t as loyal as you think.”

“You disappeared on me. Again. Do you think that’s loyalty?

What separates you from them?”

A pang of guilt and hurt enters my heart, causing it to crack. I suppress a wince as I hold his gaze. “The difference is, I didn’t want to. I had to.”

“But you took Jeremy.”

“Because he was still trying to get his GED.” “So, because I’m not in school, you left?”

I let out a frustrated sigh, “That’s not what I meant. He needed me.”

“I needed you!” He yells, and a few more heads turn towards us. I reach out and grab his hand.

“I’m sorry,” I say in all honesty, trying to show how sorry I truly am. “I thought you could handle being on your own for a few weeks. I had a few things to take care of, and things spiraled, and it took longer than I thought. I contacted you as soon as I could. ”

His jaw ticks. “What did you have to do?” he asks, relaxing his jaw, and I release his hand. I stay silent for a moment before meeting his eyes. He lets out a forced chuckle. “Of course.” He throws a bag with the items he bought for me and a few bills on the table before standing.

“Nolan,” I say, but he ignores me. In a rush, I grab the bag and chase after him into the parking lot. “Nolan, wait!” I call after him, but he doesn’t stop. I sprint up to him and grab his elbow.

“No,” He hisses. “I’ve had enough.” He opens the door to his car.

“Nolan, please,” I whisper, and he pauses. I swallow as burning starts to form behind my eyes. “Jeremy.” I croak out and peer at him through tear-filled eyes. I look up at the sky and blink away the tears before they can fall. “They killed Jeremy.”

“What?” His face pales.

“There is so much that I want to tell you. You have every right to know, but if I do, you would have to choose sides. I can’t put that on you.” I whisper.

“What did you just say?” His low, deadly voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard and finally meet his gaze. “I-I.” I stutter, and he grips my shoulders, leading me to the car’s passenger side.

As forcefully as he can without hurting me, he shoves me into the passenger seat. He rounds the car and slams the door before starting the car and peeling out of the parking lot.

“I always knew you were involved in something dangerous,” he says, turning onto the main street leading out of town. “Tell me what happened, down to every last detail.”

“Nolan, I can’t.” I plead, and he speeds up, zipping through cars and making a sharp turn onto a highway .

“Tell me. Now.” He spits the last word, and I glare at him. He doesn’t seem to care.

“You’re done protecting me.” He hisses and shifts gears, barreling down the highway at top speed. I brace a hand against the dashboard. “Jeremy and I talked about it a few weeks ago. He said you were getting involved in some pretty fucked up shit. Coming home bruised and beaten to a pulp?”

“I was just training.”

He lets out a humorous laugh. “That’s what he said, too, but I don’t buy it. You are going to tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t,” I repeat this time, more annoyed.

“It’s not your choice anymore. Whoever it was killed my brother. I have every right to know.”

He’s not wrong. He does deserve to know what happened to Jeremy, but in order to tell him that, I would have to tell him everything—from the moment I turned fifteen to that day. There is a sliver of me that thinks he might choose to stick with Hawkins and turn me over, but the other part, the sister part of me, refuses to believe that. He is my brother. Blood doesn’t make a family; loyalty and love do.

I take a deep breath and begin telling him everything.

As I talk, his eyes grow darker, and his jaw is clenched so tight that I think he will crack a tooth. He doesn’t say anything the entire time, just listening and absorbing the information. The only reaction I get from him is when I tell him I was a princess of the Marcello family. That earns me a wide-eyed stare.

When I finish, we sit in silence. He doesn’t look my way as he thinks everything over. I can’t help but start fidgeting. I touch my thumb to each of my fingers over and over again, trying to calm my brain from whirling, but all I can think about is him leaving .

What if he doesn’t want to see me? Worse, what if he does and puts himself in danger? What would happen if he came face to face with Hawkins again, or worse, Manzo? He would get himself killed. Oh god, what have I done?

He places his hand over mine and squeezes. “Thank you for telling me.”

I search his face for any sign of what is going through his mind, but he’s giving me nothing. “W-what…” I stutter and trail off.

Nolan ends up doing a circle, bringing me back to the diner. He pulls into a parking space and shifts the gear into park. He hasn’t said anything the entire drive back.

I know I should be probing him for some sort of response. I just told him my life story, and he acted like it wasn’t a big deal. He now knows what happens to people who know me. Mia, Karmen, Maggie, and Jeremy were all killed, yet he’s acting like everything is normal.

I feel like I’m in a state of limbo now. Repeating everything that happened with Jeremy. Only this time, it’s so much worse. Nolan has ties to the families, and his punishment would be so much worse than a few stab wounds.

“Let me see what I can do,” Nolan says, finally looking towards me.

“What? No. That’s why I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want you involved.”

“You don’t have a choice now. I’m not sure what I can do without getting myself killed, but I’ll keep an eye out, and I’ll update you whenever I can.”

I clench my jaw but nod. “Please check in regularly. Use the number I called you on today.”

He smiles, “Of course. ”

He gets out of the car and opens the door for me before hugging me tightly. “Please don’t do anything stupid,” I whisper, and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry about me, Scrappy. Keep using those fighting moves I taught you, okay?”

I nod against him, and he backs away. Looking me over one more time before getting in his car and pulling out of the parking lot.