Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Wind whips through my hair as I step onto the porch. The air is damp and sticky, laced with the sharp tang of electricity and the earthy aroma of wet dirt, while in the distance, a single bolt of lightning streaks across the deep blue-black sky.
I close my eyes and count to ten before a rolling clap of thunder reaches my ears.
Good, the storm’s still at least two miles off.
Zap. I flinch as the light trap Dad installed a few weeks ago claims its first victim of the night. The winged carcass of a large moth drops onto the wooden deck with a soft thunk .
Evenings on the rocking bench might be much more tolerable without a swarm of winged critters in my hair, but the incessant hum of the contraption feels ominous, its purple glow eerie and somehow cruel…
I shiver, rotating my body toward the heavy footsteps crunching across the gravel on the right side of the house. A second later, Ryker’s exasperated sigh spills from the darkness. “God no, don’t do that. Stay in Denton.”
My stomach tightens. Denton? If that was his little sister calling, then I’m even more of a jerk than I thought I was. With my arms wrapped around me to ward off the guilt nibbling at my insides, I head for the far corner of the porch. In true Texas fashion, the temperature’s dropped at least twenty degrees since sunset, but it’s still so hot out I’m almost tempted to go back inside to wait for him in the air conditioning… Then again, the thought of apologizing in front of my brother is enough to give me hives.
My ears perk up as Ryker’s voice draws closer, but with the wind howling through the trees, I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from.
“Dammit, Jenny,” he snaps, this time at full volume. “We agreed it was just fucking. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
Okay. Definitely not talking to his sister…
“It was fun while it lasted, but no,” Ryker says firmly. A few seconds go by, and then he laughs. “Driving three hours for a booty call is a bit excessive. There are apps you can download if you’re really that horny.”
I lean away from the railing. Is he seriously telling someone he’s been sleeping with to download a hookup app? What a dick.
“Fuck,” Ryker groans, and my brow lifts at the gravelly shift in his tone. “Don’t fucking say that. I’m twenty feet from my best friend and his family.”
A light flares to life in the yard about ten feet from where I’m standing, the soft-white glow illuminating Ryker’s pensive brow as he glances at the screen.
“ Fucking hell,” he breathes, tilting his chin skyward before returning the phone to his ear. “Did you just take that? Are you touching yourself?”
Every muscle in my body tenses. Oh my God.
My first instinct is to run inside—because I do not need to be listening to this—but he’s so close there’s no way I can move without drawing attention to myself. My heart races. If he sees me now, he’ll think I was spying on purpose…
With no other option, I lean against the support beam while praying the shadows and poor lighting keep me hidden .
“If I make you come,” Ryker growls, gravel crunching beneath his boots when he starts walking again, “will you leave me the hell alone?”
A bolt of lightning tears through the sky, highlighting Ryker’s massive shoulders as he paces back and forth across a small patch of grass.
“Fine, but this is the last time. Put me on speaker and place the phone on your stomach so I can hear.” He’s so close now that the tobacco clinging to his clothes tickles the inside of my nose. “Good, now slide your hand between your legs and tell me how wet you are.”
Holy shit. My pulse skyrockets so quickly I feel lightheaded. At this point it doesn’t matter if he sees me or not, I need to make my escape.
I’ve barely lifted my foot when Ryker starts talking again, his voice several octaves lower. “Yeah? Then beg me to help get you off.”
My entire body freezes as the command slams into my chest, his tone so low and dangerous that I shudder… It almost sounds like he’s talking to me.
The girl on the phone must say something because Ryker laughs, the timbre throaty and a little demeaning. Heat courses through my traitorous body, each rapid beat of my heart sending an odd sensation of fear and lust straight between my thighs.
“Tell me what you’re imagining. Am I fucking you with my fingers or my cock?” Another pause. “It’s my cock, isn’t it? You never were patient enough to be properly finger-fucked. Such a shame.”
My jaw drops and I clench my legs together. It might be my inexperience showing, but I didn’t know people actually talked to each other like this. And I definitely didn’t expect it to be so… hot . If it were anyone but Ryker saying these things?—
Nope.
I shake my head. Absolutely not. There’s no point in finishing that thought because it is Ryker, and something is obviously wrong with me… I place my palms over the pulse points on either side of my neck, hoping it will slow my erratic heartbeat so I can come up with a pl an on how to get myself out of this situation without him realizing I’m here.
All I need to do is stay quiet. Then, the second he turns his back, I’ll dart inside.
“You’re close? Already?” Ryker says in a mocking lilt. “Then stop touching yourself.” He pauses. “You heard me. You interrupted my night, which means you don’t come until I say so. Do. Not. Touch. Yourself.”
His voice is so authoritative that my hands lift from my neck without conscious thought.
“Good. Now squeeze your tits for me.”
Mindlessly, my hands slide across my breasts, gently palming them over the fabric of my T-shirt as my nipples pebble into sharp points.
“ Harder ,” Ryker orders, and once again, I listen, closing my eyes and kneading myself roughly enough that I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
It feels incredible and so unlike any way I’ve ever touched myself before that I can almost imagine it’s someone else. Someone with a smoky voice and calloused hands… A shiver drags up my spine, and I keep going, losing myself to the delicious sensation of my thumbs running over my hard nipples as I suppress a breathy moan.
“Is someone there?” Ryker calls out.
My eyes shoot open, hands flying away from my body.
Oh God, I didn’t actually moan…did I?
“No, Jenny , not you.” He glances around, eyes straying to the bug zapper when another moth succumbs to the light. “I swear I just heard somebody out here with me.”
I hold my breath, not daring to move a single muscle as Ryker charges straight for the house. My brain screams for me to run, demanding I vault myself over the railing and hide in the yard, but my feet won’t move. It’s like my body already died of embarrassment and I’m frozen solid with mortification.
Normally, I’d have come up with seven different plans to deal with this by now, but for the second time today, I’m having trouble forming coherent thoughts. Even so, I can’t let Ryker catch me out here, and under no circumstance can he ever find out I was listening to his weird phone sex. Or what I was doing while I listened…
The first porch step groans beneath Ryker’s weight, and I stop breathing. He’s close enough that if he looked just a little to his left, he’d see me standing in the shadows… Close enough for me to notice the crease forming on his brow when his phone lights up with a new incoming call.
Without a second’s hesitation, he ends the previous conversation and swipes right.
“Hello? Mrs. Palmer?” he says in an anxious tone that couldn’t be more different from the one he was just using. “Yes, ma’am, I’m stuck here until I get my truck fixed. Is Charlie okay?”
Palmer —that must be the last name of Charlotte’s foster parents.
Ryker turns back toward the yard. “Okay, good. One of the cops here thinks Beau’s arrest today might damage his chances at having his parental rights reinstated… Yes, ma’am, I’m fine. I’d let that bastard wail on my face every day if it kept Charlie safe and out of his house.”
My chest pinches at the slight tremble in his voice—the odd mixture of fear and defeat drenching each syllable erasing all traces of whatever madness was coursing through my system a few moments ago.
“Not likely,” Ryker laments. “Beau’s uncle is still a local judge. I’m sure he’ll be out in twenty-four hours, like every other time… No, I haven’t talked to Kane yet. I’ll try again tomorrow to see if he’ll help us.” He bobs his head. “Absolutely. Hey, I know it’s close to bedtime, but do you mind putting Charlie on? I promise I won’t keep her long… Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
With one hand on the back of his head, Ryker takes a deep breath and walks off the stairs onto the grass. My own breathing slowly evens out with each step he takes away from me.
“Hi, Charlie.” Ryker’s voice is cheery and bright, only a slight strain buried beneath it. “Oh yeah? Well, did you tell them your big brother is visiting in a few days?” He laughs, the sound deep and rumbly like the distant thunder. “Good.”
A beat goes by before he says, “For you, I’ve got all the time in the world. Tell me everything.”
Ryker moves farther and farther away from the house until the howl of the wind steals his voice and the black night once again swallows him whole.
Tension easing from my strained muscles, I head for the front door. But instead of opening it, I pause, glancing over my shoulder to stare into the darkness. In a matter of minutes, I’ve seen three sides of Ryker I never knew existed. He was calm and respectful with Charlie’s foster mom, gentle and patient with his sister, and then there’s whatever that was on the phone with his not-girlfriend…
What else don’t I know about him, and why does that question feel oddly terrifying?
Shivering, I turn back toward the house and slip inside, softly closing the door behind me.
“I don’t care how old you are,” Dad says, pounding his fist on the table forcefully enough that it rattles the glassware. “You live in my house and you eat my food, that means you follow my rules. If you fuck up again or mess up Ryker’s plans, I’ll kick you out.”
“That’s rich,” Noah spits through a bitter laugh. “Especially since you’re the one who begged me to stay and look after Willa.”
My eyes bulge. That’s why Noah didn’t move to the coast when he got the job on the rig? Because Dad guilted him into staying here for me?
Appetite ruined, I keep my head down and scurry across the living room to take a shower. The rain starts not long after I step out of the bathroom, the excruciating throb in my shoulder pulsing in time with the downpour pinging against the roof as I change into pajamas and collapse into bed.
With my brother’s revelation still heavy on my mind, I’m about to drift off to sleep when my phone vibrates. I crack an eye open, a smile creeping over my lips when I read the name on the text.
Isabel
Have you heard anything from UT? Because I just found the perfect apartment for us in Austin.
Two years ahead of me in school, Isabel technically started off as Noah’s friend. But she quickly caught on that I was the superior Dunn sibling, so I don’t hold it against her. She was also the one who encouraged me to apply to UT in the first place. Although, I think that has just as much to do with her struggling to declare a major and find friends as it does with my need to get out of Deadwood.
I grab my phone, two more texts coming through before I’ve responded to the first.
Isabel
Also, are we still going to the eclipse party tomorrow? I desperately need some fun.
You’re thinking about bailing, I can feel it. Don’t make me remind you about your bucket list.
Clutching the phone to my chest, I glance at the new black bikini draped across the faded mustard-yellow armchair in the corner. It’s too dark to see, but after staring at the very small, very cheeky triangles of fabric for the last month, I can imagine every detail of the white lace trim around the edges and the cute little cowboy boots scattered throughout like polka dots.
It’s adorable and looks amazing on me— until I turn around.
Dammit . I never should have told Isabel about the bucket list because, like the good friend she is, now she’s going to force me to actually do the things on it.
So annoying.
I guess I could just wear the long-sleeve one-piece I’ve been sporting whenever I go fishing on the lake with Dad, but that feels like a cop-out. If I’m making changes and taking control of my life, shouldn’t I go all in?
I roll onto my side, the sharp twinge of pain in my shoulder giving me an unrelated idea.
Willa
I need to run an errand in Jonestown before we go. If you give me a ride AND swear not to ask me about what I’m doing, I’ll promise not to bail on the eclipse party.
Isabel
Deal. Yay! We’re going to have fun, I promise.
A GIF of a blue-haired granny cannonballing into a river pops up in our text chain, and I set the phone down to charge with a grin.
Even if I never get in the water at the Springs tomorrow, I’ll still be checking off the eclipse party from my bucket list. Technically, it also counts toward number seven: Stop hiding. No one said I have to show my scars, and I can always find other ways to be daring and check off number eight later.
Listening to the rain pelt against the roof, I can’t help but feel proud. This list might seem like a stupid idea to some, but for me, it’s the first step in taking control of my life and not allowing what happened to define me.
My text alert goes off again, and the smile slides straight off my lips when I see the name on the screen. Against my better judgment, I grab my phone and pull up the message, my stomach bottoming out as I read.
Trouble
Was that you on the porch, Princess?