Chapter 19
“AFTER DARK” MR. KITTY
M y jaw drops as I stand frozen in place. Over my pounding heart, I barely hear Ryder’s words replay in my head. My stomach twists in knots.
Justin was waiting for me at home.
I’m glad Ryder took me to the hiking trail to hang out, but I didn’t think he was right about Justin searching for me at the house.
This means Dad knows about what happened—or at least what Justin told him.
Knowing him, he probably left out the assault in the bathroom, then painted me as the bad guy.
Ryder moves in front of me until our chests brush.
I bite my bottom lip as he gently undoes the straps beneath my chin, then rests his hand on my throat.
His grip is firm as he moves my head in different angles as he works.
My tense shoulders slacken, and I lean into his touch, hating how safe he makes me feel.
The way Ryder invades my personal space and forces me to look at him is enough to chase away the rising panic.
In the short time since he’s started talking to me, I’ve come to realize he grounds me.
No one—not even Minnie or my friends—has ever accomplished this.
I can chalk it up to my infatuation with him, but that wouldn’t be entirely true.
A hidden piece of myself recognizes him.
Maybe it has something to do with the struggles he refuses to voice.
The straps click, then loosen, as Ryder unsnaps them.
He eases the helmet off my head and tucks it against his side.
I avert my gaze and busy myself by fixing my hair.
Ryder keeps his expression blank, but his eyes hold no secrets.
He’s searching for signs of distress, seeking answers about why I’ve been freaking out since running into him earlier.
But I can’t bring myself to tell my stepbrother what Justin did and how it’s messing with my head. I can’t explain that my father has stripped me of my right to choose and is forcing this marriage.
Not finding the answer he’s looking for, Ryder steps back. “We’ll stay here for the night.”
Chewing the loose skin on my bottom lip, I face the mansion.
From the outside, it appears abandoned. Spiderwebs stretch across the dark windows, and unkempt bushes struggle to survive the cold.
Moss coats the horse fountain in the circle drive, its giant basin filled with stagnant water and algae.
Dead leaves litter the ground, and the trees look one big gust of wind away from toppling over.
“Who’s house is this, anyway?” I say. “It looks haunted.”
Ryder brushes past me and says over his shoulder, “Mine, and it probably is. Follow me, and I’ll help you out of the hoodie.”
My spine straightens.
Shit. I just insulted his home. I hope he doesn't take offense and punish me by ignoring me again. It doesn’t matter that he’s shown me more kindness and care in the past few hours. He could take everything back and treat me like shit again.
My fingers burrow into the bottom of the hoodie that smells like Ryder. I don’t know how I’ll survive another round of him undressing me. I don’t even want to give the hoodie back to him. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend, but this is the first time a man has given me something of his to wear.
Ryder unlocks the front door and swings it open. I rush after him, too afraid he’ll change his mind and lock me outside.
I breathe a sigh of relief as warm air hugs me as I pass through the entryway and shut the door behind me. Ryder flips on a light and strides down the massive hallway leading deeper into the house. I follow close behind him with my head on a swivel.
Dust blankets the portraits hanging from the chipped walls.
A lot of them remind me of Halloween decorations.
They feature creepy farmers posing with their families.
All that’s missing are the pitchforks. None of this screams Ryder , however.
My brother would go for a more gothic color scheme, not beige and forest green with a pop of yellow.
There are a few traces of his personality dotted throughout the space. A large TV hangs on the wall opposite the furniture, and large speakers tower in the corners of the den. Motorcycle helmets lie scattered on the floor, and two more sit on the coffee table.
Ryder leads me into the living room and picks up a remote from the dark coffee table.
Blue LED lights wrapped around the ceiling’s upper trim flip on, bathing us in a soft glow.
Ryder switches on a lamp on the end table beside a dark leather sectional couch.
Its back faces floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a back patio and forest.
“Wow,” I breathe. “How did you get this place? That’s a lot— oomph .” I bump into a solid wall of muscle.
Ryder catches my waist and squeezes a little harder and longer than necessary. Like all the other times he’s touched me, it’s as though he can’t help himself.
I mentally shake away the thoughts.No, there’s no way Ryder would be interested in me like that . Doesn’t matter we had a moment or two. He can’t stand me. Which means he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
He cocks his head while keeping his hold on me. His icy demeanor hasn’t melted a centimeter. I hate how he hides his emotions from me. It’s the equivalent of him holding me at arm’s length.
“Arms up.” Ryder’s deep voice draws me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“I can do it myself, really,” I say.
Ryder raises an eyebrow and taps my side with an impatient finger.
I groan and raise my arms above my head, holding as still as I can while he works the material to my chest. He has some difficulty getting the hoodie over my breasts, and I bite my bottom lip while he raises the material one inch at a time.
To my embarrassment, when the hoodie finally comes free, my shirt comes right along with it, leaving me standing before him—topless. His eyes widen a fraction. He’s just as shocked as I am as he stares at my breasts.
“Jesus!” I gasp and cover myself with my arm, then snatch the clothes out of his grip with my free hand.
Ryder backs away, his shock wearing off. I turn my back to him and unravel my shirt from the hoodie.
“Sleep in whatever room you want,” Ryder says, “but stay out of my bedroom.”
I turn after yanking my shirt on, but Ryder has already disappeared, his footsteps fading until I can’t hear them anymore.
“How will I know which one is yours?” I yell.
Silence meets my question.
After rummaging around the kitchen for something to snack on, I find Starbursts hidden behind two lonesome Vienna sausage cans in the cabinet. How Ryder has survived with an empty kitchen, I will never know.
I pop a pink Starburst into my mouth and suck on the candy with a low moan.
It’s not enough to stave off the hunger pangs, but this will have to do until Ryder takes me home in the morning.
I didn’t have a chance to eat at the restaurant with Justin, which I’m not upset about.
The man would have ordered a meal I can’t have or don’t like.
Ryder’s kitchen has the same personality as the front of the home—chipped paint in the same color scheme, and rooster decorations that aren't like him at all. If it weren’t for the living room full of helmets and LED lights, I wouldn’t think this is Ryder’s house at all.
I chew on the Starburst and check my phone for the first time since stepping foot in the house.
Eighty missed calls.
Ten voicemails.
Thirty unopened text messages.
I wince.
Justin and Dad have been trying to get ahold of me. Justin more so than my father. My thumb hovers over Dad’s name on the text messages, but I don’t know if I can read them right now. It’ll be bad.
I can already imagine what my father and Justin have been saying. Dad is likely scolding me for hurting Justin and running away from him. He’ll remind me how it’s my duty and place to serve my husband. Then he’ll sprinkle in a hefty dose of shaming me for embarrassing him.
Justin will be more passive-aggressive. He’ll warn me that we’re going to have a little talk about what happened.
It’ll all be silky words, aimed to relax me, but in truth, it’s a disguise to hide the malicious nature that is Justin.
He and I both know it won’t be just a talk .
I fear it’ll end up with him finishing what he started, and this time I won’t be able to get away.
My heart leaps into my throat as my phone vibrates.
The screen displays an incoming call from Justin.
The shrill ringtone blasts, killing the silence.
I check my surroundings, ensuring Ryder hasn’t joined me in the living room without my knowing.
Not that he would extend any hospitality by entertaining me as his guest. He’d likely give me the cold shoulder, maybe even give me the stink eye as Justin continues blowing up my phone.
The screen returns to its normal setting, and I barely have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Justin calls again.
I stare at the screen, counting the seconds ticking by.
It feels like forever before the call ends and sends Justin to voicemail.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to call me again.
My phone vibrates and chirps with a new voicemail.
With a trembling finger, I click it and listen.
“I can be a patient man, Madison,” Justin says, “but you’re pushing it. Answer the fucking phone.”
I barely exit the voicemail before his name pops up again. The ringtone echoes in the room, increasing my panic. My hold on the phone slips, and I accidentally touch the screen, sending Justin to voicemail.
“Shit,” I growl.
Great. Now he’ll know I’m refusing to pick up when I could have lied and said I didn’t have my phone on me.
I listen to the voicemail as soon as it comes through. Justin remains calm, but his voice holds an icy undertone, sending a chill down my spine.
“This is how you want to play, wife? Fine, have it your way, but don’t think I won’t be able to find you. That scum won’t keep you safe for much longer. I’ll see you soon.”
The remaining Starbursts falls from my limp hand. One by one, they thump against the marble floor.
I look through the large windows overlooking the backyard. With the lights on, all that looks back at me is my terrified reflection.
There’s no way Justin knows where I’m at. He’s never met Ryder—at least I don’t think so. Either way, it doesn’t stop the panic rising in me at the threat of Justin coming here and dragging me out by the hair.
I scramble to the coffee table and grab the tiny remote, clicking a button to turn off the LED lights. They flicker different colors, and I curse under my breath before I find the button to turn them off. I flip off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness.
I should feel better now that no one can look inside from the backyard, but I still have the urge to puke.
Ryder needs to know Justin is on his way. I wince, already feeling awful about crashing into his bedroom and telling him the bad news. But this is an emergency. I only hope he won’t be too upset with me after I explain what’s going on.