Chapter Twenty-Seven
When we pull up to the cemetery, I get out of the car and pause— looking over all the graves of the loved ones buried here. This particular cemetery is where the mob families get buried. Even if there isn’t a body, they bury an empty casket so people have a place to mourn.
I scan the gravestones, seeing a woman and a young child standing over a grave in the far back right, sobbing. The little girl’s face is buried in the woman’s black dress. I shift my gaze to find Ryker standing beside me. I startle. Without a word, he begins walking, and I follow close behind. He stops six rows from the back and three stones away from the aisle.
A shiver runs through my body, and I swallow hard as I pass Ryker and stand before my mother’s gravestone. I run my hand along the granite, and a sob builds in my throat.
“Hi, Mommy,” I whisper, falling to my knees and resting my forehead against the stone.
The tears begin to fall. It’s out of my control. Since my mother was taken from me, I can count how many times I’ve cried on one hand. It was a weakness. It is a weakness—something I can’t afford to have. Having emotions is something that will get me killed. Normally, I can just shut them off. It’s like a switch in my brain telling me it’s not safe and I need to be numb. But this is the first time I’ve seen my mom’s grave, and it breaks something inside of me.
The silent tears turn to sobs as I bury my head in my knees. My shoulders shake as my heart breaks over and over again with every breath, becoming more painful each time. I lift my head, trying to slow my shallow breathing. Blackness forms outside my vision. It starts to make its way in when a figure stands before me.
Ryker grabs my shoulders and pulls me up onto my knees. He kneels in front of me, and I see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear anything. I shake my head and close my eyes as I grip my chest. The tightening intensifies, and the sobbing triples. Maybe not crying in ten years isn’t healthy. It’s like a floodgate.
“I. Can’t. Stop,” I say with a sob and a panicked breath between each word.
I open my eyes when Ryker starts shaking me. He grips my hand and puts my palm on his chest. I can feel his steady breaths, so I try to copy them. It takes a second before my vision evens, and my hearing returns.
“That’s it, Angel.” He says as he strokes the back of my head.
He scoots closer and puts my head against his chest. “Breathe.”
I take a deep breath, but it stutters on the inhale. My lower lip trembles for about a minute before my breathing completely evens out. Even with my breathing back to normal, I haven’t stopped crying.
Ryker sits on the grass, pulling me into his lap. He holds me, continuing to stroke my hair. I take in his scent, letting it calm me. I grip his shirt and tug on it, wanting him closer. He wraps his free hand around me, pulling me closer to him. Time ticks by with me in my enemy's arms, a place I should feel anything but this… safe .
I ran out of tears about thirty minutes ago, but he continues to hold me. It isn’t until my eyelids grow heavy that I finally lift my head and look up at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in a hoarse voice. “I don’t know what happened.”
“You had a panic attack.”
I sniffle and look up, “I’ve never had one before.”
He looks down, and instantly, fresh tears start forming. I quickly look away, trying to raise my hand to wipe them away, but he still has hold of my hand. He starts to stand, forcing me to do the same. We face my mother’s headstone, hands clasped together, and for some unknown reason, it’s easier to face it with him by my side.
Without looking up, I say, “Manzo sent people after us after my father killed his. They found us in one of my father’s safe houses. It was just my mother, me, and a guard. For some reason, I was so tired I had gone to bed early.” I take a deep breath and let out a long exhale. “In the middle of the night, I woke up and went into my mother’s room. She was up reading a book, and she let me climb into bed with her.” I smile and let out a weak chuckle. “She read me to sleep, and that book was inappropriate for kids when I read it years later.” I chuckle again. “She had skipped some spicy scenes, but I loved the love story.” My smile falls, and my hand tightens against Rykers.
I can feel his stare on me. I don’t know why I’m telling him this.
He has no right to know. Nobody knows—nobody but me.
“The next day was my birthday,” I start again. “I was so excited. She had promised we would be moving to a new house. A much bigger one where I would feel so much safer. She said not even my father knew where it was.” I swallow hard. “The next morning, we woke to a loud crash outside. The guard went to check it out. There were raccoons, so we assumed that’s all it was, but while he was running out the back door, someone else was coming in through the kitchen window. My mother heard the window open and began yelling for Howie, but it was too late.” My voice cracks as a tear falls onto my cheek. “Manzo’s man kicked in the door and fired. My mother managed to get me behind her, but when she was shot and when she fell, she exposed me.” I shake my head and look up at the sky. “Howie came and put a bullet in his skull before he could kill me, but he still managed to kill a part of me that day. She was all I had.” My voice cracks again, and a sob escapes me as Ryker wraps his arms around my waist.
◆◆◆
A few hours later, I’m left alone. I know Ryker and Vivian are both in the kitchen arguing about her not being invited to some dinner Ryker had planned. With him distracted, I thought about lock-picking the mystery door but decided against it. With Ryker home, he could catch me snooping at any point, and he would probably kill me.
I choose to sit my ass down on the couch like a “good girl” and watch a movie. I’ve been looking through the options on all the streaming platforms, but nothing looks appealing. Regardless, I turned on one of my favorites, the original Scream.
I get about halfway through the movie when the front door opens. I try to ignore it, but the fighting between Ryker and Vivian intensifies as she slams the front door behind her. I jump out of reflex and try to submerge myself back into the movie.
“What are you watching?” I try not to react to the deep voice that stands eerily close behind me. I ignore Ryker, still pissed that he isn't acting quicker to rescue Maggie. "Freeing Maggie is on the agenda, okay? Now, what are you watching?"
“Scream,” I respond, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “You like horror movies?” Ryker asks, sounding genuinely
shocked.
I can’t help but chuckle, “It’s one of my favorite genres.”
“I thought you might be more interested in romance, considering your life is basically a horror movie in itself.”
I shrug, “Romance isn’t the worst thing in the world. But from my experience, life doesn’t have happy endings. I like more realistic things.”
“That’s a bleak way to view the world.” He settles himself onto the couch next to me, unbuttoning the top button of the white button-up.
“Well, it’s a bleak world.”
“How is this…” He gestures to the T.V., “Realistic?”
“A man hunting you down as some sort of revenge and killing everyone you know and love? Sounds pretty realistic to me, don’t you think?”
He briefly thinks about it before changing the subject, “So you were never into fairytales?”
“I didn’t say that.” I laugh, pausing when I break my trance from the movie to look at him, finding him staring at me. I hitch my breath as subtly as I can as I take all of him in. Every time I see him, he wears the same outfit: a black shirt, jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket. But seeing him in a suit takes my breath away. Man, does God have favorites.
“Do you?” I finally ask .
“Believe in happy endings?” He shrugs, “I guess not. I always hoped but never put any faith behind it.”
I smile softly, turning my attention back to the movie. “So fucking stupid,” I mutter under my breath as one of the girls runs up the stairs to try and avoid the killer when the front door is wide open.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryker smile, and I can’t help the one that is plastered on my face, too. I face him, bracing myself for the question I want to ask when his phone rings.
“Yeah? Okay, perfect.” He hangs up the phone, gets up, and leaves.
Confused, I turn my attention back to the movie. A few minutes later, Ryker comes back with three take-out bags and sets them on the table in front of me. I raise my eyebrows in question as he opens the first bag.
The best smelling Chinese food fills the air around us, and my stomach instantly growls. I can’t help the drool that I have to lick off my lips. Ryker watches the movement and smirks.
“Lincoln told me you haven’t eaten since before we found you.”
I stare at the food, willing it to go away. I bite my lip and shake my head. “I-”
As soon as I open my mouth, Ryker forces a piece of chicken into my mouth. Shocked, I let it sit there for a minute. I debate, spitting it in his face, but decide not to. I have to remind myself that he’s doing this to be nice. I hope.
I begin to chew, and he seems to relax back into his seat. “I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I got a little of everything.” He says, opening the other two boxes.
◆◆ ◆
He wasn’t lying. I ate as much as my stomach could handle, but now I feel like I could slip into a food coma.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and Ryker just nods, looking me over again. I shift uncomfortably, absentmindedly wiping the pieces of rice that have fallen onto the blanket onto the floor. “Can I ask you a question?” Ryker lifts his chin, and I brace myself for the answer. “Why didn’t you just kill me?”
He stares at me for a moment, the silence growing awkward as the seconds tick by. “I don’t know. I should have. I was planning to.”
“But you didn’t.” “But I didn’t.”
I bite my lower lip, and his eyes dip down to my mouth for a split second before finding my eyes again. He leans in, and the woodsy, rain scent takes over my senses. I take in a sharp breath, but before anything can happen, the front door opens, breaking the spell we had cast ourselves in.
Lincoln settles himself on one of the armchairs, grabbing himself a plate of food as the credits roll.
“How did it go?” Ryker asks, placing his arm on the back of the couch, barely skimming my shoulder with his fingertips.
My skin grows goosebumps, and I see Ryker smirk out of the corner of my eye. “How did what go?” I ask, trying to submerge myself into the nonexistent conversation to try and distract myself from Ryker’s touch .
Lincoln looks at Ryker momentarily before answering, “Manzo is opening a restaurant tomorrow night; I managed to get our names on the list.”
I pause mid-chew, glancing over my shoulder to look at Ryker with my eyebrows raised in question. He sits up, running his hand through his hair.
“Does he know we are coming?” Ryker asks.
“Not that I know of,” Lincoln says with a mouth full of food. “Wait, wait…” I say, setting down the fork I had been using to
push around a piece of chicken. “Why are you even going?”
“He attacked our docks and killed my men; he needs to be taught a lesson,” Ryker says, standing and grabbing his empty glass.
“You will get innocent people hurt.” I protest.
“That’s why you are going to come,” Ryker says matter of factly.
“What? N-no, I’m not. I can’t.” I hear my heart pounding in my ears. I finally feel safe for the first time in as long as I can remember, and he wants to walk me right into the Lion's Den.
“With you there, he won’t attack.”
I scoff, “You saw what he did to me at the motel. He has no problem hurting me in public.”
“He knows better than to touch what's mine.” Ryker's voice lowers two octaves, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise on end .
“Can you promise me that nothing will happen to me? Will you protect me?”
“We all would. Hawkins included.” Lincoln says, finishing off his plate in record time.