Chapter 2
DELANEY
According to the news, it’s always the pretty girl everyone loved who lit up the room who ends up murdered.
Maybe I should be grateful for my RBF and introverted ways.
Most people have no clue who I am, and the only room I light up is my bathroom with a vanilla-lime candle before I get lost in a really good book.
The only killers I meet are tucked safely between the pages and are typically thousand-year-old vampires or devilishly sexy fae.
Doubt I’m coming across them in a dark alley any time soon.
—Delaney’s Secret Thoughts
We were ready to leave West End twenty minutes ago but only made it as far as the booths on the other side of the dance floor before Ryker was stopped over and over again by teammates. By fans. By his family. He was kind to each one, giving them his full attention but never dropping my hand.
Not sure exactly what I think about that though. At least, other than recognizing the panic attack sitting at the very edge of my psyche for those entire twenty minutes.
Fuck anxiety and fuck my father for giving me that as an unending gift.
Just when I think the door is finally in sight, an older man with a gentle smile stops next to us.
His hand shakes as he waits to say hello, and my heart does something funny when this man takes the time to sign the letters.
I know how hard learning ASL can be, and I get the feeling this man may have learned it just in case he ever got this chance.
Okay . . . This one might take a hot minute, and I swear to God if I don’t pee soon, my eyes are going to turn yellow. Squeezing Ryker’s hand in mine, I turn in front of him and point to the hall. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Thankfully, he nods, although I have no doubt I got most of that wrong.
It only takes me a minute before I’m washing my hands in front of the mirror, staring at the woman reflected back at me.
Not too bad, considering it’s closing in on one a.m. My hair still has some bounce, and my makeup isn’t completely gone.
A little smudged maybe but not too bad. Straightening the cute black shorts I bought to match the pink and black Kings tee Ashton insisted I wear, I accept that this is as good as it’s getting and step out of the ladies room, ready to find Ryker and hopefully go home.
I wonder if the older man is still with him?
What the—
A hand covers my mouth, stifling my scream as another wraps around my waist, lifting me from my feet.
Oh. My. God.
What the hell?
I kick my legs and claw at whatever I can.
But it happens so fast.
I’m being carried.
Someone is carrying me down the dark hall toward— No.
The exit sign flashes above the door.
I kick harder, but don’t connect.
I’m being kidnapped.
This is not happening.
I didn’t escape one hell to be dragged into another.
My fingers claw and my nails break as I try to scream.
To bite.
“Shh . . . quiet now,” a voice threatens in the darkness.
Fuck that.
I try to scream again and again, but the music and his hand drown out the sound.
Tears stream from my eyes as my kicking feet finally make contact with something, eliciting a huff. But it doesn’t stop my attacker from moving quickly through the hall. It’s seconds really, but it feels like everything slows around me.
We’re outside before I can take my next breath, and I’m slammed against the brick wall, my head ricochetting as the pain explodes and stars dot in my vision.
The hand holding me moves, and my breath explodes from my lungs as I suck in oxygen. But before I can scream, that hand wraps around my throat instead of my mouth, clamping down and stopping me.
Stopping everything.
Cutting off my airway.
And I still.
Fighting only makes it worse.
Some things you learn and you never forget.
“You fucking whore. You think you’re too good for me?”
That voice.
That breath,
My mind slows, and my vision clears as the douche from earlier comes into focus. “You and golden boy have a real good laugh at my expense, huh?” His rancid sweet breath makes my stomach roil. His eyes are wild with unfocused fury.
Oh God. What’s he on?
Where’s his friend?
Are they in on this together?
“You want to play, little girl?” My fingers claw at the single arm holding me suspended off the ground against the sharp brick wall. My toes no longer touch the pavement below.
The sound of metal on metal as his belt unbuckles makes me want to die.
I’ve avoided this my whole life.
Snuck around and away from a million men like him in and out of my house, and now I’m about to be raped outside of a bar.
Dennings leans in and drags his tongue up my cheek, licking the tears that stream down my face. “Now it’s time you learn what happens when you play with the big boys.”
“No,” I gasp soundlessly, with my lungs on fire and my vision darkening by the second.
I’m going to die.
This man is going to kill me.
He slams my head against the wall again, and the pain—it’s too much.
My fingers claw at his hold as he drops his pants and tosses me to the ground like a rag doll, never letting go of my throat.
Can’t breathe.
How long can a body go without oxygen?
A rough hand shoves under my shirt as I stare at the pitch-black sky.
Not a star in sight.
I just started to make a life for myself.
One I liked.
One I could be proud of.
My sisters’ faces flash behind my eyes.
Ashton’s happy smile and Kyrie’s beautiful baby giggles.
I kick one more time, trying so hard to break free.
But it doesn’t work.
When Dennings hits back, something cracks inside.
A rib maybe.
The night fades as the feel of his hand on my thigh makes me sick.
Or it might have, but the world goes black first.
Ryker
“Hey, Kaleigh.” I want to tell her and Dawson to get a damn room instead of dry humping on the dance floor, but whatever works for them, I guess. Instead, I look around again. “Have you seen Delaney?”
“Uhh . . .” She glances from me to Dawson, and yeah, I know exactly what they were doing and how little attention she was paying to anything else. “Wasn’t exactly looking for her once she said you were taking her home. I know she’s small, but seriously, Ryker, did you lose her?”
Fucking Kaleigh.
She might be the biggest ball buster I know, and that’s saying something because my family is full of them.
I pat the team’s center on the shoulder. “Good luck with that one.”
The crowd is thinning as closing time gets closer, but she’s nowhere.
Fuck.
I look in the men’s room first because, well, it’s easier.
Men are scared of the women’s bathroom. Why the fuck does everyone go in pairs? What the hell do they do in there? Truthfully, I’d rather not find out, but when Delaney is still nowhere to be found, I suck it the fuck up and knock on the door in warning.
Damn, I hope I don’t regret this.
“I’m looking for Delaney, and I can’t hear your answer,” I call out. “I’m opening the door now.”
Oh, this could be so bad.
Slowly, I crack open the door, but luckily, there’s no one there.
Luckily and unluckily, I guess, because where the hell did she go?
Stepping back out into the hall, I check the owner’s office.
Locked. Guess my cousin learned his lesson about leaving it unlocked when one too many of us used it for our own reasons.
The exit sign shines brightly over the door at the end of the hall, but there’s no way she went out there. Not at night. Not by herself. This woman is too street-smart for that.
Isn’t she?
Fuck.
Cracking it open, I’m about to call out her name when something to the right catches my eye.
Someone. Not something.
Is that—Dennings?
What the hell is he—
Beautiful brown hair splays against the asphalt as he slams someone—wait, not someone.
Fuck.
Delaney.
I don’t think. I just move.
My fist flies into Dennings’s face with a satisfying crack, knocking him off her.
His pants are shoved down, but Delaney’s are still on.
She’s unconscious with a bruise already blooming on her face.
Her shirt torn and bra showing.
“Lane,” is ripped from my lungs as I try to wake her.
With a shaking hand, I lift her head and pull my hand back to find blood on my palm.
I’m going to kill him.
My vision goes fucking red right as I’m knocked off her.
Dennings slams me to the ground, but I’m not Delaney.
I’m not smaller.
I throw my leg at his chest and kick him off me.
He hurt her.
He hit her.
He made her bleed.
He—
She won’t open her eyes.
Fueled by a rage like I’ve never known, I straddle this sick fuck’s chest and lose myself.
My mind. My control.
Tunnel vision takes over.
His bones crunch beneath my fist, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
The picture of her unconscious—broken—it’s burned into my brain.
I hit him over and over.
Until my knuckles are bloody and raw, and even then, I don’t stop.
I can’t.
Because when I do, what am I going to find?
Is she—?
No. She can’t be.
Hands grab me from behind and pull me off.
I swing like a wild animal before I realize it’s Hendrix.
He screams, but I don’t hear him. Can’t read his lips. My brain isn’t processing.
“Stop, man,” he signs. “You’ve got to stop.”
“He hurt her,” I pant as my eyes fly to Delaney. Kaleigh’s next to her, sobbing, and a crowd is forming in the parking lot.
Phones raised.
Cameras on.
Fuck.
I yank my shirt off and cover her with it as the lights from an ambulance appear.
I don’t even look at Dennings as the EMTs jump out. Everyone is talking at once, and I can’t keep up. Can’t hear them. Can’t read their lips.
I’m shoved away as they kneel next to Delaney.
“Ryker,” Kaleigh signs as she moves next to us, sobbing. “What happened?”
I shake my head and move back to Delaney as she’s placed on a stretcher. Squatting down by her side, I take her hand in mind. “Lane . . . Open your eyes. Please.”
The EMT tries to move me again, but I growl. “No.”
No clue what the hell he’s saying, and I don’t care.
They bring the stretcher up to full height, and I go with it, refusing to let go of her.
Hendrix grips my shoulder but I shrug him off as her eyes open and find mine.
“That’s it, beautiful. Keep those eyes open, Bambi. Keep looking at me.”
“Ryker . . .” she cries, her hand shaking in mine.
“I’m right here,” I tell her as the police show and the EMTs load her into the ambulance. “I’m right here, and I’m coming with you.”
The EMT says something again, but I don’t catch it.
“Don’t leave me, Ryker,” she cries harder, and the EMT shakes his head as the other one moves around the back of the ambulance, hooking Delaney up to oxygen.
“You can’t come with us,” I think the EMT says.
“Fucking watch me,” I warn him and point to my hearing aids, refusing to move.
“Sorry, sir,” I watch him say this time. “Immediate family only.”
Fuck that. I lean down over her, my hand curving over her head protectively.
I don’t need to hear her words to feel the fear as she cries, “Stay.”
“I’m here,” I promise and carefully wipe the tear from her cheek as another flash from a camera outside of the ambulance blinds me.
The EMT grabs my shoulder like Hendrix did, and I swear to every fucking thing I love, I’m hanging by a thread when I look at him again.
“Family only, sir.”
Fine.
“I’m her husband.”