Chapter 20 Maya
Maya
Emma went to the grocery store, Ethan disappeared to who knows where, so it’s me and Squeak at the beach house. The deck off the back door is fenced in, so she’s able to roam and play while I lounge by the pool.
The water feels so refreshing; I dipped my toes in earlier. I never learned how to swim, and I don’t have a bathing suit, so I settle for lounging in a chair watching videos on my phone.
A good smut book would be nice to read, but I don’t have any actual money. One of the girls I worked with at the diner used to lend me some of hers to read on my breaks. It’s the only way I was ever able to read anything other than schoolbooks.
I assume what money I would’ve made from working on the farm went towards funding my living expenses. That’s only fair. Nick never told me, and I’m too afraid to ask.
Now that I’m back here, I’m even more curious about what kind of job he’s going to have me do. I try not to let myself get bogged down in that, since it can’t be worse than anything I’ve been through so far.
I’m lost in my own thoughts when a deep voice from behind me nearly sends me launching into the pool. “How many times are you going to watch that same video of a man jumping rope?”
I drop my phone. Busted. Thankfully just me and not the phone.
“That’s none of your business.” I don’t dare look at him as my cheeks heat from embarrassment.
Good thing it wasn’t the ex-delivery guy’s videos. The way he makes you think he’s talking directly to you, the way he blushes during some of his videos, the tattoos covering him all over—he’s my favorite.
“Everything that goes on in this house is my business, cupcake. I ask to give you a chance to tell me. If I really want to know, I’ll just pull your browsing history from the Wi-Fi data.” His shadow lingers over me as he steps closer.
“Can you do that?” I really hope he’s bluffing.
“I can and I will,” he murmurs, amused.
Shit. I’m in trouble if he pulls my data and sees that I put his name in my Google search earlier.
Naturally, I was curious about the man I’ll be living with—and the women he’s been photographed with. There was only one though. A blonde bombshell with long legs and perfect figure. She could be an ex-girlfriend.
My gut twists a little, maybe she’s his current girlfriend.
After all, I haven’t spent enough time with him to say I know him on a personal level.
I only spent a few days here before I moved to the farm, and it’s not like he talks to me unless it’s something pertaining to me and my therapy progress.
I shove the imaginary thoughts of me by his side in the back of my mind. I’m not tall and lanky, and I’m definitely not pretty enough to catch his eye. “What would sir prefer me to do?” I give him a questioning look.
A hint of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips. “Take a walk with me.” He holds his hand out for me and my heart skips a beat.
“I have to get my shoes and put Squeak back in the house.” I stand, without taking his hand, and turn towards the house. Physical contact with him makes me too nervous and I’m already embarrassed that he caught me scrolling thirst traps.
“You don’t need shoes and she’s fine out here.” He opens the gate to the boardwalk leading to the beach and motions for me to go ahead of him. I get butterflies in the pit of my gut just being within such close proximity to him as he follows just inches behind me.
I try to hide my excitement, I’ve always wondered what the sand would feel like between my toes—and as I always imagined—the warm, soft, and grainy sensation is amazing.
Nick walks by my side to the edge of the water, I take a deep inhale through my nose, reveling in the smell of the salty sea air.
The sun’s glittery reflection off the endless horizon just about takes my breath away.
I’ve dreamed my entire life about the moment I would see the coastline.
Pictures do not do it any justice. I’m completely enamored.
“Theres something to be said about something that’s so beautiful but dangerous at the same time.” Nick’s looking directly at me, catching me off guard.
“Excuse me?” Was he talking about me? Am I hallucinating?
“The Gulf, oceans, large bodies of open water in general. The exterior is so breathtakingly beautiful we often forget the dangers that lurk beneath.” He turns away from me.
My subconscious scolds me for trying to interpret something in a way it wasn’t meant. I’m smart enough to know that he wasn’t talking about me.
Maybe…he’s talking about himself. That would make more sense. He looks like he was personally designed by the heavens, but he’s as dangerous as the devil underneath the gorgeous facade.
Isn’t that how nature works though? Poison and venom hide within the most beautiful creatures. Nick Ryker is no exception.
“You’re welcome to swim in the pool but don’t swim in this water. Not only are the double red flags out today, but the bacteria count on the Mississippi coastline is exceptionally high.”
“Double red flags?” I know the beaches have colored flags and each has their meaning, I just can’t remember which color means what.
“They mean the beach is closed to swimmers. The water conditions are dangerous. Could be high surf, strong currents, or other hazards.”
The water looks calm from the surface but looks can be deceiving, like Nick. Even when he appears calm, he’s eerily calm. The kind that sets your soul on edge but is exciting at the same time.
“Oh. I just thought the red flags were to warn people about the owner of this house.” I snicker to myself, and maybe even audibly, but now I’m starting to panic.
The heat from his glare is so intense, I feel like a magnifying glass under the sun. “That, too.” He doesn’t look away.
I stand my ground despite my overwhelming urge to run from him. I’m skating on thin ice. Even if I was just joking, he doesn’t seem like the playful type. I don’t want to find out what would happen if I offended him.
“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” I break the stare and look away.
“Don’t look away from me and don’t say you’re sorry when you don’t mean it, cupcake. Whether you had malicious intent, or not, you meant what you said. Backtracking won’t earn you respect. Say what you mean with conviction and stand by it.” His voice is icy. He’s the one radiating with malice.
“What are you going to do to me if I overstep and push you too far?” I do my best to hide the fear in my voice. I grew accustomed to bantering with him over the phone, but in person—is too intense.
“Trust that I won’t hurt you, but I will correct you if you’re wrong.” His demeanor softens just a tad and I try to relax.
“I’m trying. It’s not easy for me.” I cross my arms to cover my midsection, insecurity threatening to overcome me. I hate opening up to him and feeling so vulnerable.
“Nothing worth working towards is going to be easy. This is how you learn to thrive under pressure. If you can stand your ground against me, you can stand your ground against anyone. Start by maintaining eye contact. Never be the first to break a stare, it shows weakness.”
“Didn’t you say you will always win a staring contest? Does that mean we will have to stare at each other until the end of time?” God, I hope not, I would melt into a puddle under his intensity.
He rubs his chin for a second before answering. “You’ll eventually get bored of undressing me with your eyes.”
He’s so full of himself, but a man who looks like that has earned the right to be. I bet he’s used to women throwing themselves at him. I refuse to be one of them, even if he’s correct in the undressing part.
Just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu.
“You’re not my type,” I lie, knowing I’m not convincing enough.
“Is Kaleb Cherry your type?” His jaw clenches when he says it.
I nearly choke on my own saliva. Not the comeback I was expecting. “How the hell do you know Kaleb Cherry?” I look him dead in the eyes.
“That’s not the answer to my question. Is he your type?” He sounds even angrier and looks way too tense, like me knowing him is pissing him off.
Kaleb Cherry is a disgusting individual. Why the hell would he think he’s my type? My stomach sinks. He can’t know what I did, can he?
“No, he’s not my type. Now please tell me why you thought that?” I beg, hoping he doesn’t know the truth but since he’s asking about him, it’s safe to assume he does.
“He said you had a mouth like a hoover. That you’d do anything for a dollar.” He’s stern. I can’t read his expression, though his irises appear a few shades darker.
“Why do you even care? It has nothing to do with you.” Tears prick in my eyes. As if my personal shame for the things I had to do to get by wasn’t enough, I’m now being exploited for it. I might as well strip down to my bare bones for how exposed I feel right now.
“I beg to differ. As stated before, everything that happens in my house is my business,” he snaps, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to stand taller.
“It didn’t happen in your house.” I counter defiantly.
“But will it? You need to know that I will gut any man you bring in my house to perform favors on—make that any man you bring in my house, period. This is your only warning.”
My body trembles at his words.
“I did it to survive!” I wail. “You don’t know what it’s like to go hungry or without water or electricity.
” I fight back the ugly sobs wracking through my body.
This beautiful day went to shit real fast. “You don’t know what it’s like to not know if you’re going to be raped or beaten when you walk through the door.
All I wanted was to get my GED and get the hell out of Whiskey Rivers so I could do better for myself. ”
I turn to walk away but he grabs my wrist, “Let me go! Please!” I beg.
He grabs my other wrist “Maya, stop. Look at me.” I try to look up, but his face is blurred by my tears.
“I’m just laying some ground rules. While you’re here, you won’t want or need for anything and you damn sure won’t be performing any favors to get it.
Everyone has a past, but that won’t be your future.
Even after you leave here, got it?” He pulls me in close to his body.
“Yes. Please let me go.” I don’t want him to see me cry.
“You have to promise me you won’t run off, you can’t run when things get tough.” His grip loosens but he doesn’t let me go.
“Why do you keep repeating everything you’ve already told me? I hear you the first time.” I sniff, trying to calm my sobs.
“Your actions suggest otherwise. You can either stop trying to run from everything or you can listen to me drill it into your head over and over again. Your therapist and Ethan both said you were making improvements, show me. Relax, dry your tears, stand tall, and get your emotions under control. I’m not shaming you for surviving. ”
“It’s different with them, they make me comfortable.”
“I’m here to shake up your comfort zone—life is not comfortable, cupcake.
I will push you until you’re able to conquer the world on your own.
Tomorrow we’ll discuss what you will be doing undercover, how you’ll do it, and your new training schedule.
For now, promise me you’ll come to me if you need something and not do anything out of desperation—ever again. ”
I look in his eyes like he asks. “I promise.” He has me in such an intimate position while holding me close to him. I try not to look too much into it, but I can’t help but think he does actually care for my wellbeing.
“Good. I’m going to put food on the grill. You can swim in the pool if you want.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.” I don’t about to tell him I can’t swim, he will drag me in the pool next.
“Swimsuits are optional, not a requirement.” And there goes that million-dollar smile with a wink. He finally lets go of my wrists and steps back, leaving me wishing he was still touching me.
It’s a short walk back to the deck. I scoop up a sleeping Squeak and head to my room. I need a break from everything that just happened. I’m questioning if I’m ready to do whatever it is he wants me to do.
“Trust me.” A phrase that seems like such a common paradox in my world. Trust is earned and not given. Can I so blindly follow him and his plans for me when my history with men is so dark?
If it was Ethan, it would be much easier. I had the best time working with him on the farm. Sure, he made inappropriate comments but there was never any tension or invasion of my boundaries.
Nick pushes every boundary, limit, and ounce of sanity I have left. He never said how he knows Kaleb.
I’m not sure I want to know.