Chapter Thirty-Six
I run my hands along the wall as I walk down one of the long corridors, listening for any sign of life.
Last night was the first in three months that Ryker and I haven’t slept in the same bed. I’m not sure why I’m pulling away; maybe it’s because he’s letting Jeremy become a made man, or perhaps I’m just looking for any excuse to break things off. The sex is great, but deep down, I know this isn’t going to work either because of my insecurities or because I know the result of all of this. Playing house with Ryker is fun, but I’m still waiting for the purge.
I don’t think Ryker would betray me. He’s made it clear that nobody but him will ever touch me again; it’s just the fear of the unknown that makes me want to hold back.
I stop in front of the door I’ve been debating breaking down. I found it locked when I was first allowed upstairs, but over the past few months, I haven’t had a chance to sneak down there.
I pull out the lock picking kit Lincoln got me for Christmas and start working on the technique Lincoln has been showing me. I know it’s one of the simpler things, but being nimble isn’t my strong suit.
When the door finally opens, I can’t see anything. It’s too dark, but I make my way down the steps anyway. It looks as if it’s just another basement, maybe even the original one that came with the house. The one Ryker held me in seems to be an addition that was sound-proofed .
This side, however, has a less creepy vibe and looks more like something you would see out of a home magazine. I open the door off to the right of the stairs, finding a half bath.
I shut the door and stop next to a framed painting of a woman smiling as two people splash each other waist-deep in the ocean. I smile when I recognize the man. He has the same jet-black hair and dark brown eyes as Ryker. The little girl’s hair is a golden brown with large curls that whip in front of her face as the wind swarms around her. I can’t help but smile at how precious this memory is.
There aren't any other pictures in this house, besides a few framed modern photos in the living room.
“What are you doing down here?” A voice demands from behind me, and I stiffen. I look over my shoulder to find Ryker leaning against the basement’s door frame. I turn my attention back to the painting, focusing on the domestic scene.
“It’s just so… normal.” It comes out as a whisper, a hint of envy shining through. I never got to have any memories like this. Over the years, I’ve started to lose sight of what my mother used to look like. Now, her smile and bright blue eyes are nothing more than a faded memory.
I can feel his heat as Ryker comes up behind me. I have to hold my breath to stop myself from taking in his scent. I want nothing more than to lean against him and be engulfed by those large arms. Blinking a few times to clear my thoughts, I let out a heavy breath.
“That was three days before she passed,” he says, and I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are locked on the woman sitting in the sand, with a book in one hand and the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I turn back to the painting, getting a good look at the woman. She looks as if she could be Vivian’s twin.
“Your mother?” I ask, and when he doesn't answer, I consider it confirmation enough. I let a few heartbeats pass before I speak again. “She’s so effortlessly beautiful.”
I look over my shoulder, this time to see him staring at me with sorrow etched into his features. “She was.” We hold each other's gazes for a long moment.
His features are softer than I’ve ever seen them. He searches my face for something, and I wish I knew what. He breaks eye contact to look back at the painting.
“What happened to her?” I ask, scanning his features.
He hesitates before running his hands through his hair. I hadn't taken in his appearance before but seeing him in a suit makes my jaw drop. I’ve seen it once before, but he looks completely disheveled. His hair is wild, his white button-down is nearly halfway unbuttoned, and when my eyes trail down his torso, I can see the tiny drops of blood that managed to splatter themselves onto him.
“She had cancer. This was the last day she felt okay enough to do anything. My father had been out of town for about a week on business, but she wanted us to have one more memory with her.” I nod and turn my body so I’m fully facing him. He gives me a small smile as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His smile drops as he looks back at the painting. “The day my mother died, Vivian and I hadn’t gone to the hospital. We all had a stomach bug and didn’t want to get her sick. My father was the only one with her when she died.”
I grab his hand, interlocking our fingers. I lean my head on his shoulder, the question bubbling within me. “What happened that day?” I ask, my instincts telling me something is off with the story.
“My father claims she was already dead by the time he got to the hospital.”
“But you don’t think so?”
“I know that a lot of patients feel better a few days before they die, but even my mother's doctor said she was already doing better. They were even talking about sending her home.”
My hand tightens in his, “Your father?”
He nods. “He was gone for two weeks, and during that time, my mother improved. As soon as he comes back, she’s dead.”
“Poison?”
He clenches his jaw, “I tried to get an autopsy, but I had to have my father's permission.”
“Ryker…” I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
“You remind me a lot of her. She was smart and one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” He says after a moment of silence.
“I’m not strong,” I whisper. “Believe me, I’m anything but. A strong woman would fight, not hide behind a man.” I scoff to myself under my breath.
The corner of his mouth tips up, “You are stronger than you know.”
I glare at him. “I shouldn’t have to be,” I say sternly as I step back. “From the age of fifteen, I had to be strong for everyone, and every time I tried to protect them, I failed. Mia, Karmen, Maggie, and even Jeremy relied on me. I fought for them when everything in me wanted to cave, to let him win.” My anger starts to disappear, and the sadness begins to flood me at the reminder of my failures. “But I haven’t been fighting. I’ve done nothing but run.” My voice cracks, and a tear falls onto my cheek. I quickly wipe it away as I finally look at him. “Running doesn’t make you strong. I have been too weak to protect them, and I sure as hell haven’t been strong enough to protect myself.” I wrap my arms around my middle as I start to recoil.
I don’t know why I’m saying this, but I can’t help it. I don’t understand why I’m showing Ryker my vulnerabilities, it just pours out of me. He’s quickly become my person—the person with whom I feel safe, who understands me, and who will stay by my side no matter what. Maybe it’s all in my head, imagining a relationship that isn’t there. We haven’t talked about it, but it feels like more than that.
“He might not have gotten what he wanted, but he still managed to break me—just not in the way he wanted,” I say, turning my back on him.
He wraps a hand around my hip and pulls me into him. “The stars have to be surrounded by darkness for them to shine,” He whispers in my ear as I lean back into him, and tears begin to line my bottom lids.
He turns me, moves his hand up to my jaw, and lifts my head ever so slightly, placing a soft kiss on my lips. It’s so gentle that it causes goosebumps to rise on my skin. I press my body more into him, letting the desire consume me.
He brings his other hand from my hip to the other side of my face, keeping the grip light but still deepening the kiss before he breaks it and places his forehead on mine. “You might not see it, Angel, but everyone around you is in awe of your strength. ”
His words are the medicine I have been looking for in what feels like a lifetime. This is someone who understands the struggle of having to be strong all the time, that this world is cruel, and it’s okay to be a little bit broken inside.
He doesn’t look at me like I’m broken or damaged. Instead, he views me as a Queen, a warrior, and an Angel. Sometimes, when he forgets he is the devil, he can be charming, which is the most dangerous thing about him.
Another tear falls, and he wipes it away with his thumb. “I need you to promise me something.” I can see the concern and worry in his eyes.
“Anything,” I whisper, leaning into his touch.
“I need you to promise me that if Manzo gets his hands on you, you will stay strong and won’t break. I will do everything I can to stop that from happening, but if…”
“No matter what,” I say, interrupting him. “I’ll stay strong. For you. For when you finally take that son of a bitch down, I will be there, waiting for you, because no matter what, Ryker, you are mine, and I am yours.”
I know it took a lot for him to ask me to do this. The possibility of Manzo finding me has been in the back of our minds, even if we haven’t voiced it to each other, and it’s not a small thing to ask someone, to ask them to hold out during torture. It could take weeks, months, even before he could rescue me. The fact he’s thinking about this sends a rush of guilt and worry through me.
Does he think he will fail? Does he think he will get me hurt? Am I asking too much of him? I should have just run. I should have just left New York when I had the chance… before I roped him into my mess .
I smile up at him, ignoring my racing thoughts. “You know you don’t have to worry about this, right?”
He rests his forehead against mine, and we both close our eyes, trying to take in the moment before the reality of this cruel world strips us of our peace.
“You are the only thing that keeps me grounded. Nothing would be left of this city if he took you from me. I don’t care how many men I have to kill, how many lives I have to sacrifice to get you back.”
The moment he drops his hand, I know he’s pulling back, and trying to put distance between us, so I can’t see the worry behind his eyes. But I see it. I know he cares; being scared of losing someone you care for can be all-consuming. Even if you are one of the most powerful men in the United States, having something to lose is a dangerous game.
I grab his shirt, yanking him into me, and plant a punishing kiss. I rip open his white button-down, exposing his chiseled, tattooed chest. He stares down at me, lust swarming in his eyes. I bite my lower lip, a hint of embarrassment seeding itself in my mind. Ryker doesn’t let me get in my head. He lets out a growl before he picks me up like a rag doll, throwing me over his shoulder.
I’m not proud of the high-pitched scream that comes out of my mouth. He chuckles, swatting me on my ass. He carries me down the hall to another room. He opens the door, and I try my best to look around. All I can see are a few chairs facing the same direction.
“You have a movie theater?” I gasp in awe.
He sets me down in one of the seats, placing his hand behind my head on the back of the seat. He towers over me. I lick my lower lip, wanting to taste him .
Without another thought, I rake my hands over his exposed chest, tracing the lines of his abs as I find his belt buckle. I don’t dare look up at him. He loves eye contact, but this is my first time initiating anything between us. Ryker is always in control. I don’t mind it; hell, I prefer it, but being this needy and possibly not getting my brains fucked out, is a huge no, no.
I undo his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor. He kicks them to the side, finally grabbing my attention. Looking up at him, I slowly slide off the chair and onto my knees. He takes a step back, giving me room. He squats down to my level, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him.
I swallow, slowly letting my hand travel up his thigh. He stiffens, his eyes narrowing. “Angel, don’t start something you can’t finish.”
I don’t bother saying anything and let my body talk instead. I rub my palm against his growing cock, gasping when he grabs a handful of hair and pulls me inches away from his face.
“Last. Warning.” He growls.
The moment my hand slips under the band of his boxers and I grasp his cock in a tight grip, he loses his restraint that was hanging by a thread.
He pulls down his boxers, kicking them next to his discarded pants, before ripping off his now-ruined shirt. I run my hand up his growing shaft as he takes a step forward. On instinct, I open my mouth, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock.
He lets out a feral moan when I run circles around the tip with my tongue. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. The idea of the big and powerful Ryker Domincio being weak and needy for me does something to me .
I can feel how wet my panties are as I shift on my knees, trying to get a better angle. He has to be at least ten inches. A shiver rolls down my spine, remembering the feeling of him buried deep inside of me.
I lick from the base of his cock and run my tongue around his tip again. He gathers all my hair into a makeshift pony tail. I know what’s coming, so I take in a large breath before he shoves my head down on his cock.
He hits the back of my throat. I try to open up a bit more, allowing him to go deeper, but I can’t help but gag. He moans when I do and begins to thrust his hips.
I brace my hands on his thighs for stability, but the moment I do, a wave of panic takes over. Tears sting my eyes. Part of it is because I’m deep-throating him, but the leading cause of my panic is the instant flashbacks.
I know I’m safe. Ryker wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted this. I asked for it.
He hits the back of my throat again, and I whimper, digging my nails into his thighs. He stops immediately, taking his cock out of my mouth. A sob escapes me as my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Ang…”
I shake my head, stopping him as I stand. Before I make the situation even worse, I run out the door and up the stairs, slamming the basement door behind me.
My chest heaves as I pace around my room. I press each of my fingers to my thumb. What is wrong with you? Why do you have to be like this? All I wanted to do was to show him how much I care, to show him the same reciprocation he’s shown me dozens of times without asking for anything in return, but instead, I got in my head, unable to show him I care, that I… love him . Holy shit. I’m in love with the devil.
A soft knock at the door drags me out of my panic. I walk over to it and fling it open. “What!” I yell without looking, instantly regretting it when I see Vivian and Maggie.
Vivian doesn’t react to my rudeness. Instead, she looks over my shoulder into the room. “Are you alone? Do you have a second to talk?” The worry and fear plastered on her face sobers me.
I open the door wider, allowing them to come in. Maggie and I sit on the mattress facing the end of the bed, where Vivian sits on the white ottoman facing us.
Vivian flips her hair a few times before she sits on her hands. “What’s going on?” I ask, putting the throw blanket over my legs.
She lets out a long breath, “I think Manzo is stalking me.” I glance at Maggie, who is keeping her head down, not meeting my eyes. My best guess is she convinced Vivian to talk to me because she doesn’t seem surprised at the omission. “I’ve been getting packages sent to my dorm. Just random things. Threatening notes about turning you over or I’d regret it, and I’ve gotten one that said he was close to his final plan and I should prepare myself for what’s coming.” She wraps her arms around her middle, “I haven’t told any of the boys yet. They’ll all lose their shit.”
I look out the patio doors into the night, trying not to let my panic rise to the surface. I do my finger trick, pressing each finger to my thumb faster than usual and repeating the motion until my hand gets tired. I take another deep breath before turning back to the women. “You need to tell Ryker.”
“You think he’s going to come for me?” Her voice shakes in fear as tears begin to roll down her cheeks .
I grasp her hand, give her a light squeeze, and look over at Maggie, who has started crying, too. “He’s going to come for all of us,” Maggie whispers as her voice cracks.
“He can’t hurt us,” I tell them, but I’m trying to convince myself more than them.
“What if Ryker loses?” Maggie asks, “What will be our fate then?”
I shake my head. “He won’t. And even if he does, I won’t let Manzo take either of you.” I turn towards Maggie, gripping her hand a bit tighter. “I won’t fail you, not again. He’s after me, looking for any way to get me to come to him.” I shift my attention back to Vivian, giving her a soft smile. “I would never leave you to that fate. Getting either of you is his only plan. That’s why we need to tell Ryker. He will send you guys to a safe house where Manzo can’t find you.”
Maggie shakes her head. “I can’t do that.”
I know all too well why she doesn’t want to go. It's just another prison—locked away from the outside world, with no social interaction other than whoever is assigned to watch over them. “I know, but it’s either that or…”
I don’t have to say what will happen if we don’t protect them. Vivian stands, running her hands down her dress. “I can’t either. I have a performance tomorrow. It’s the last one before the New Year.”
“Don’t you have an understudy?”
Her tears start to fall faster, and she sits back down, burying her head in her hands. “Why is this happening to us?”
I scoot off the bed and sit beside her on the ottoman, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I know it’s hard. But it’s only a matter of time before Ryker’s plan is successful. I won’t let him get his hands on you. I promise.”
“If he doesn’t get me, he will take you. It’s a lose-lose situation.”
Maggie stands and comes to sit on the other side of me. She leans into me, and I wrap my free arm around her, leaning my head on hers. “I need you both to trust me.” I hug them both tighter before I stand. “For now, let's grab something greasy and get a bucket of ice cream?”
“Vanilla?” Maggie asks, and I smile, remembering that it’s her favorite .
“Absolutely.”