24. Devina
Fuck Ryder.
Fuck him for making me feel. I don’t know what I feel, but feeling anything makes me feel everything and I’ve spent years trying to feel nothing.
His chiseled jaw that ticks when I challenge him. The way his new scar makes my heart flutter, knowing he got it just for me. His damn smirk was both mischievous and sexy as hell.
All the reasons I want to hate him.
All the reasons I’m beginning to love him.
I’m taking my coffee in the sunroom this morning, waiting for MaryClaire to come over. Having people in our home is something I’m still getting used to. While she is one hundred percent against going for a run with me, she’s on board with settling in with our Kindles and reading books that make us kick our feet and giggle like teenagers.
My phone rings and I’m surprised when Declan’s name flashes on the screen.
I kick my feet up on the chair across from me and take a large inhale before answering.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I hadn’t spoken to him since our wedding. Not even after the ‘three-day debacle’.
“I need you to get to the office to look over some paperwork with the attorneys.”
“I’m doing great, thanks. Married life is blissful, although I’m sure my husband has told you. You see him more than you see me these days.” My eyes roll to the ceiling.
“That’s good news and I’m not exactly over the moon about having to spend time with your husband. For the record, we don’t talk about anything but the job.”
One thing I hate about myself is that I can’t stay mad at Declan, even when he deserves it. “Fine. I can’t come today. I have a friend coming over.”
“Devina, this is time sensitive. Can’t your friend visit you tomorrow?”
“No.” Jerk. “I can be there in the morning. What is so time-sensitive that I need to drop everything?”
“I don’t want to discuss it over the phone,” his annoyed sigh makes me smile. I will always be that little sister.
“Well, I have a friend now, believe it or not, and she should be here any minute. I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Fine,” he lets out a frustrated grunt before going silent. I know he wants to ask about any progress I’ve made but won’t speak the words.
“Everything else is fine.” I finally say.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
He hangs up and I let my head fall to the back of the chair.
This was supposed to be a stress-free day of snacks and smut. Those are the best kind, right? Now I’m mentally clenching a bat, swinging at the anxiety that’s threatening to take over.
I’ve never had to question my loyalty. It has always been to Scarlet. To my family. But Ryder is my family now.
Fiona steps so softly, that I don’t notice her until she approaches the table. “Ms. MaryClaire is here for you.”
My eyes remain shut as I chuckle. “Just MaryClaire, Fiona. Her name is MaryClaire. You don’t have to be so formal,” I tease.
She lifts her chin and gives me a wink as my husband strolls in with the paper to take a seat next to me. I wonder if Declan makes Darlene refer to him as ‘Mr. Sullivan’. I never understood the formalities when you’re all living in the same house, but to each their own, I guess.
“You’re in my seat, Mr. T.,” MaryClaire announces as she approaches the table scooping up a danish and making her way to my side.
Ryder doesn’t seem to take offense as he gives me a crooked smile and stands to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I should have known,” he says, “I should be heading out anyway.”
MaryClaire plops down in his place and our girl’s day is officially underway.
***
I’m not sure what time it is when I wake up. After a few hours of reading, we decided to take a swim and MaryClaire headed home to her beloved, Ivan. One of these days I plan on meeting this mystery man.
I stretch and wiggle my toes. The oversized lounge chair is just as comfortable as our bed. The warm glow of the orange sky tells me it’s late afternoon. Several days have passed without nightmares. In fact, I’ve slept better than I have in years.
This morning I didn’t think about killing myself and because of that, I realized how horrible it was that I had spent so many mornings plotting my demise when I should be enjoying the limited time I have left. I woke in the embrace of a man. Before I could open my eyes, I was overcome with a heat that ignites and burns from the inside out. It’s like coming home. I almost smiled and then I remembered Scarlet. She seems so far right now. I want to hate Ryder for it. My mind is so consumed with him that everything else becomes hazy in his presence.
Tomorrow we attend the gala. My one big chance to take Nico out. The Cap. Even his name screams entitled prick face. Who refers to themselves as… never mind. Not important. I need to check in with Taylor and make sure everything is set.
Grabbing my towel and Kindle, I head inside, stopping in the kitchen to grab a water bottle.
Ryder’s house - our house - is much different than the estate Declan built for us. From the outside, it is a grand historic mansion of red brick and black shutters. The interior is sleek and modern, while still maintaining many of the original accents. The kitchen has bright white counters and warm oak cabinets. The white stone wall, built around the stove shelters a special faucet for Fiona to fill her pots with water.
The family I came from had money long before I was born, but Declan, and my father before him, maintained a humble home. I always assumed it was to not draw attention from unwanted eyes. But now, I think they just didn’t care. Ryder has more money than God and he won’t dare scrimp on a single thing, especially if it’s something I ask for. Right now I don’t have to ask for a lot and I’m grateful. It still makes me uncomfortable.
I wonder if it was a single moment in my childhood or a series of responses from the adults around me that made me uncomfortable asking for things I needed.
I lean against the counter of the island, the very one I was taken on not too long ago, and take a sip of my water and my cheeks flush at the memory. The slam of a door makes me jump and drop my water. The house is quiet once again. I grab the nearest towel to clean my mess when a blood-curdling scream sends a jolt of electricity up my spine causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand.
This time, the noise doesn’t stop.
Doing what you should never do, says every scary movie ever made, I start stepping toward the shrill screams. One foot is placed in front of the other until I’m standing at the top of the stairs that lead to the basement. This house is so old, it could be haunted. Right?
I want to turn around but my adrenaline is working overtime and I’m pretty sure I’m excited, not scared. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. The door is open, which must be a mistake. Ryder never leaves this door unlocked. It’s the only place in the house I’m not supposed to go.
The lack of light at the base makes the stairs look like they descend into the deepest depths of Hell. Complete black and the thought makes me shiver. My right foot lifts to begin my descent when I’m shocked back into the present with a large hand grasping my shoulder.
I shriek louder than the person screaming at the bottom of the stairs, only to turn and see Ronnie.
“You’re not supposed to be here Mrs. Totaro,” his voice is full of warning.
My eyes are wide with what I realize now is not excitement. It’s fear. I go to speak but I’m not sure what to say.
“Where is Ryde?” I need him here. He takes away the fear.
Ronnie’s eyes shift to indicate that the gentle, loving, caring man I’ve started to fall for is at the bottom of those stairs, and he likely isn’t the one screaming.
“Why don’t you run along, Mrs. Totaro and I’ll tell your husband you’re waiting for him.” He’s going to tell Ryder I’ve been snooping around. But was I? Maybe they should have shut the door before they started torturing people.
Declan never brought work home. If he did, I never knew. I wonder if he has a secret torture chamber I wasn’t aware of.
I back away slowly before turning to run upstairs to our room. The screams grow faint with the distance of each step and disappear once Ronnie enters the door to the basement, closing and locking it behind him. Soundproof.
I wonder how many people have been brought to that room since I’ve been in this house. How many souls have been tortured, screaming in pain and fear?
When Ryder finds out I’ve lied, or realized who my target is, will I be taken down there? He doesn’t love me, but he feels something for me. Will that all disappear once he learns the truth? Will I live out my last days in a dungeon begging for death?
I find my way under the covers and curl into a ball. He’s making me weak. Before Ryder, I would have done anything to make one particular man scream for mercy. Now, I wake up smiling and the darkness I’ve held onto for so long to keep me strong is slowly being lifted away.
I’m craving a man who makes people scream for mercy.
It’s fucking terrifying.