Chapter 60
Violet
Ryder’s shoulders were tight, his breath unsteady. I could see the panic he was trying to swallow down, every muscle trembling beneath the weight of a past I didn’t understand.
He looked like a man ripping open his own chest and offering his heart, all while mine shattered.
“Ryder…” I whispered, his name breaking apart on my tongue. “Don’t.”
He’d been beaten so badly, blood dripping steadily from his hairline, and his left eye was almost entirely swollen shut.
“You can do whatever you want with me,” he said, voice rough, deeper than usual, but still steady. “You can hurt me. Sell me. Kill me.”
“STOP!” I managed to scream. I wanted to crawl to him, stop him from making this mistake. “PLEASE!”
He lifted his chin just enough to make sure everyone heard him. “Just let Violet go.”
It took me a moment to process his words, and when I did it was like a punch to the chest. Because he meant them. Every single one.
He was exchanging his life for mine.
Ryder kneeled there broken, bruised, and yet he was still choosing me.
“Pathetic,” Caretaker said with a sneer. “A real man never kneels.” Swinging his arm, he pointed the gun at Ryder and pulled the trigger.
“NO!” I choked, scrambling toward him on shaking hands. My dress tore beneath me, my knees scraping across the ground. But I didn’t care, didn’t even feel it.
All I could see was Ryder collapsing sideways, his body jerking from the impact.
“No, no, no,” I chanted like a prayer, crawling despite my bound wrists, refusing to stop until I was beside him. My hands immediately found the wound, pressing down to stop the blood.
Fingers clamped around my upper arm and dragged me upright so abruptly that my whole body jolted.
“Get off!” I shrieked, throwing my weight backward, kicking, clawing, anything to break free. But Caretaker’s grip only locked tighter.
“We have a plane to catch,” he grunted, unfazed when my elbow slammed into his ribs just as Jürgen aimed his own weapon at Ryder’s head.
“Please,” I gasped, the word torn out of me. “Let him get medical attention, and I’ll go, willingly.”
“Blondie,” Ryder groaned. “No.”
“I won’t fight,” I continued, begging. “I won’t run. I’ll do whatever you want. Just… just let me help him.”
Caretaker gripped my chin, forcing me to turn away. “Do you think you’re in any position to bargain?” he asked, tone almost amused. “You think you matter here?”
I shook my head, or tried to, but his grip made movement impossible.
“Please,” my voice cracked. “He needs help, or he’ll die.”
“That’s the point.” Caretaker tilted his head. “Maybe now you’ll understand your place.”
His fingers pinched, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the single shot.
A whimper dragged itself out of me, my body trembling so violently that I thought my legs might give way.
A low, dark chuckle rolled across the air, and Caretaker stiffened, turning with a snarl.
“Do you really think I’d come alone?” Ryder grinned, the smile manic as he winked at me through his good eye. My heart clenched so hard it hurt as Jürgen collapsed beside him with half his head blown off. “Although, he’s rather fucking late.”
Tears clogged my voice, thick and burning, making it almost impossible to speak.
I swung at Caretaker with everything I had, the shock of it causing his grip to loosen, allowing me to launch myself at Ryder.
He’d fallen onto his back, breath shallow, one hand pressed to his side where blood was seeping through his shirt. His face was pale, jaw clenched against the pain, but he was alive. Barely.
“Ryder!” I dropped beside him, hands trembling as I desperately added pressure.
There was a commotion behind me, words in a language I didn’t understand, but I refused to look away from him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice weakening.
“No, no, no, no.” My breath hitched as I whipped my head around, searching for help. Roman was there, emerging through a group of men dressed in black tactical gear. “Roman! Please, over here!”
“Blondie…” Ryder exhaled.
“Roman!” I screamed, voice breaking. “I need help!”
“Violet…” Ryder murmured, dragging my attention back to him.
I looked down at him through blurred, wet eyes. My heart clawing at my ribs with every frantic beat. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered, even as terror crushed my chest. “Please… you promised!”
He gave the smallest broken laugh, barely a sound at all. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“It doesn’t matter. Please, Ryder, it doesn’t matter,” I choked out.
Where the fuck was Roman?
“You need to stay awake,” I begged, pressing harder and using my weight to try and slow the bleeding. “Please, you need to stay with me. Please, I forgive you!”
His gaze slipped, unfocused, drifting.
“Ryder, look at me. Look at me!”
“Sorry, blondie,” he whispered, his good eye fluttering shut as his hand went slack beneath mine. “Thank you… for being my new dream.”