Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ryan
A soft patter of footsteps woke me. When I opened my eyes, a maid was tidying the room. The moment she saw me awake, she stopped and curtsied.
"Sorry, Miss Clark. I woke you."
"You are?"
"I'm Nora. Starting today, I'll be taking care of you." She smiled, her voice gentle as she explained.
I propped myself up on my elbows. "Taking care of me?"
"Yes." Nora set a silver tray on the nightstand—a glass of warm water, a fresh lemon slice, and two pills. "Mr. Valerius's orders from last night. Also, you'll be moving rooms today. Right next to Miss Rose's bedroom."
Next to Rose?
I knew that room. Declan had told me it belonged only to the lady of the manor. And today I was moving in.
"That's... Moving rooms isn't necessary. I can take care of myself."
"Mr. Valerius said you needn't worry about any of this." Nora's tone was gentle but firm. "You have class at ten. The car will be waiting at the manor entrance at nine-twenty. I'll have breakfast ready in the dining room at nine-ten. Does that work for you?"
My mouth opened, all my protests and objections stuck in my throat. Of course. This was so Ronan.
"Yes. Thank you, Nora."
Nora curtsied and slipped out quietly. I sat alone on the bed, unable to shake the feeling that everything since we'd returned from Long Island had been a dream.
When I came downstairs, Andrew stood by the dining room entrance.
Seeing me approach, he nodded respectfully.
Ronan wasn't there. I headed for my usual seat, but Nora stopped me.
She led me to the head of the table. Only then did I notice the place setting had changed—fine china, identical to what Ronan used.
I sat with my coffee cup, heart full of sweetness mixed with dread. I worried I couldn't fill this seat. More than that, I feared waking up.
"Ryan! Try this!"
Rose rushed over, clutching a white plate. On it sat a square fruit tart, golden pastry layers stacked high, topped with two bright red strawberries.
"Andrew just brought it from the kitchen!" Her little face was flushed, eyes shining like silver coins. "Daddy had the chef try a new dessert today and told me to taste it first. But I said I wanted Ryan to taste it first."
"You eat it, Rose." I touched her head.
"No, Ryan first." She pushed the plate closer. "Ryan takes a bite and tells Rose if it's good, then Rose eats."
I couldn't help laughing. This little troublemaker. I pinched off a small piece and popped it in my mouth. The pastry melted on my tongue, strawberry tartness mingling with rich cream beneath. Perfect. I made an exaggerated "mmm" and closed my eyes.
"Rose. This is way too good. I'm not giving it back."
She shrieked and threw her arms around mine. "Ryan!"
"Fine! It's all yours!"
She hugged my arm and whispered in my ear, "Ryan. I wish you were my mom."
My blood froze. Even though Ronan and I had made things official, we'd decided not to tell Rose yet.
I was afraid she'd think of Natasha, afraid she'd feel I was replacing her mother.
I'd thought she was still too young to understand, that we needed to ease into it slowly. But here she was, saying it first.
"Rose, as long as you want me to be."
I held her tight.
Before getting in the car for school, Ronan returned from outside. He handed me a thermos of honey milk. I'd caught a chill in Long Island and had been coughing. He'd noticed.
"What time do you finish tonight?"
"Class ends at five-thirty. The professor's doing a special session on stress disorders. Might run over."
Ronan nodded, reaching up to fasten a loose button at my collar. His fingertips grazed my neck, and my skin burned.
"Call me when you're done."
"Ronan, you don't have to—"
"Do it."
I smiled helplessly. "Fine."
The seminar ran longer than expected. The professor knew I was working with a real childhood trauma case and kept me after class, drilling me on details. We lost track of time. By the time I walked out of the building, it was pitch dark.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through messages. A few daily rants from Lulu, but nothing from Ronan. He must be waiting for me to call him. But I didn't dial. It was Friday, his busiest day. He often didn't rest until two or three in the morning. I didn't want to bother him.
At least I'd texted the driver about when class ended.
He should be at the school entrance by now.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and hurried toward the street.
Tonight was especially dark. The "24-Hour Pizza" sign that usually flickered was broken.
The corner store had a "Closed Early" sign taped to its glass door.
Half the sidewalk glowed orange, the other half pitch black.
I'd only gone a few steps when footsteps sounded behind me. I walked faster. The footsteps quickened, too. I reached for my phone, pressing the power button to unlock it.
The next instant, a rough, ice-cold hand clamped over my mouth. The reek of stale tobacco mixed with sour, unwashed funk flooded my nostrils. Another arm locked around my waist, brutally dragging me sideways into darkness.
I was hauled into a narrow alley without a single light. Panicking, I kicked at his shin with all my strength. He swore under his breath, and his grip on my mouth loosened slightly. I seized the opening and screamed, but the sound barely left my throat before he backhanded me into the wall.
"Bitch."
That voice. Dustin.
He was skeletal, his whole body withered and hollow like an emptied shell. Fresh, brutal scars crisscrossed old ones, but what chilled me most was his left leg, twisted and deformed.
He slammed me to the ground, his hand crushing my throat. "See me? Take a good look at how pathetic I am now."
"Let me go—" He slapped me again.
"You ruined me, Ryan." His eyes churned with bone-deep hatred. "You climbed into that man's bed and sent his people after me. You know what they did to me?"
I fought to break free, but his grip only tightened. He straddled me.
"I begged, Ryan. I got on my knees and begged them to stop." Dustin ground his teeth. "But look, look at my leg!"
"I begged for seven hours before he stopped." He completely lost it. "Now I've got nothing. You know the only thing I can still do?"
I kneed him, clawed at him, tried everything. But he was too strong. My jacket and shirt were shredded in seconds. He shoved my bra up, groping my chest while cursing nonstop.
I tried to bite him, but he dodged. One hand moved lower, yanking at my underwear.
"Help! Hel—"
He stuffed fabric in my mouth. I stared desperately toward the alley entrance.
Dead silence everywhere. The main street in the distance had sparse shadows.
No one looked this way. My strength drained bit by bit.
Just as I closed my eyes and waited for death, a massive force struck.
Dustin was ripped off me and hurled away.
I struggled up, clutching my clothes. A flashlight beam lit the alley. A tall figure blocked my view—Ronan.
Blood on his right knuckles. I couldn't tell if it was his or Dustin's. He turned, his gaze lingering on the red mark on my cheek, then quickly stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around me, pulling me tight against him.
Marco charged over, his usual cocky grin gone. He glanced at Dustin twitching on the ground, then at me wrapped in Ronan's jacket, and something vicious flashed in his eyes.
"Boss."
Ronan didn't look at him. "Take him."
"Got it."
Marco spat on the ground and yanked Dustin up by the hair. Dustin couldn't form full sentences anymore, just broken whimpers leaking from his mouth.
Only Ronan and I remained in the alley. I shook uncontrollably, tremors spreading from my fingertips to my shoulders.
"Ronan... I..."
"Don't talk." He pressed a finger to my lips. "We're going home."
When the car reached the manor, Ronan tightened his jacket around me. He carried me out and to my new room. He gently removed my clothes and lowered me into the prepared bath. Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, my lips. I finally began to settle.
"Take a bath. Andrew will have the kitchen make something you like. I'll come keep you company later."
"Ronan, Dustin, he—"
"This time, I'm ending all of it. You don't need to worry anymore. Just rest, okay?"
I saw the seriousness in his eyes. The unease in my chest grew, but I bit my lip and nodded. He called Nora in and gave careful instructions before leaving.
I cranked the water temperature as high as I could stand.
Hot water rushed over my body, but it couldn't wash away the darkness in my heart.
I grabbed the bath sponge, lathered it with soap, and scrubbed every inch of skin over and over, so hard I nearly broke the surface.
But I still felt dirty, like I'd never get clean.
I don't know how long passed before the bathroom door burst open.
Ronan rushed in and pulled me up. He didn't say much, just held me and carefully dried my hair.
After everything was done, he carried me to bed and patted my back like he did when putting Rose to sleep.
That's when I finally broke down crying.
Ronan stroked my spine slowly—from shoulder blades to waist and back again. Over and over.
I cried myself to sleep in his arms. When I woke, it was light out. And he was still there.
"What time is it?"
"Seven-forty."
"You didn't sleep all night?"
"Slept a little."
"Liar."
Ronan didn't respond. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes and buried my face in the hollow of his collarbone.
"Ronan, stay with me another half hour." My voice was muffled.
"Okay."
"I don't want to see anyone today."
"Then don't."
"Last night, how did you know I was in that alley?"
He held me tighter. "When you didn't call by seven, I went myself."
That afternoon, I got up to play with Rose anyway. I didn't want her to worry.
"Ryan, you're spacing out again."
I snapped back and quickly rubbed her little head, forcing myself to focus and finish the story.
Days crawled forward. My emotions slowly steadied, but my body started acting strangely. Waves of nausea kept hitting me. I figured it was from the shock, but even calming remedies didn't help.
Rose noticed first. "Ryan, you don't smell nice anymore."
"What?"
"You used to smell like roses." She wrinkled her little nose. "Not anymore."
"Did you smell wrong?"
"I didn't. I smell you every day."
"Maybe my body wash expired?" We dissolved into giggles.
Ronan hadn't been at the manor lately, and I felt more and more unmoored. Until three days later, when Lulu asked me to go shopping.
The moment we met, Lulu said nothing and just pulled me into a hug.
I hugged her back hard, and all the grievances and terror I'd been holding burst to the surface.
My eyes stung, and tears spilled over. So much had happened recently.
First, I'd hit my head, and she'd come to the manor to take care of me for three whole days.
Now this—almost raped by Dustin. One disaster after another.
We sat in that coffee shop crying and cursing until we'd gone through an entire pack of tissues. Mid-conversation, intense nausea suddenly surged up my throat. I covered my mouth instinctively, my stomach roiling, nearly bringing up everything I'd eaten for breakfast.
"What's wrong?" Lulu patted my back. "Food poisoning?"
"I don't know." I pressed my chest. "It's been like this lately."
"Did you see a doctor?"
"No. Maybe the scare messed up my stomach?"
"That's weird..." Lulu frowned and started searching her phone. Moments later, her eyes went wide, and she grabbed my shoulders. "Ryan, tell me. Did you get your period?"
I pulled out my phone and checked the calendar. It was two months late. I hadn't had it since we got back from Long Island. Lulu dragged me straight to the pharmacy.
"Two high-sensitivity pregnancy tests," she told the clerk.
"One's enough."
"Listen to me. Two." She was dead serious. "Didn't you learn about experimental controls? Keep one for reference. More accurate."
I didn't have the energy to argue. Back home, I did the test with Lulu's help. Three minutes. We stared at those two white plastic sticks.
First one: two clear lines. Second one: two lines again.
"Lulu, I'm pregnant."
"I see that."
"What do I do?"
"I don't know."
Lulu put her arm around my shoulders. We sat on the bed. After a long silence, she spoke. "Listen. I can't tell you what to do. No one can make this choice for you."
"But there's one thing I have to say. The baby's father has a right to know the truth."
"What if he doesn't want it?"
"Then I'll go with you to take care of it!" Lulu cut off my spiral. "My studio's doing well. Come be my partner. We'll figure it out together." She lowered her voice. "Ryan, since I met you when I was sixteen, I've never let you lose once. This time won't be any different."
I squeezed her hand and nodded hard.
"That's right!" She tucked that loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Also, I'm not collecting on the fifty-dollar bet."
"What?"
"Babe, you lost so completely I can't take your money."
The next morning, I deliberately put on a light blue dress—Ronan's favorite color. Standing in front of the mirror, I rehearsed over and over.
"Ronan, I have something to tell you."
"Ronan, about after Long Island..."
"Ronan, I..."
Finally satisfied with my script, I tucked the pregnancy test in my bag and went downstairs to find him.
Just as I reached the second-floor landing, I ran into Marco leaning against the study doorframe. Seeing me, he straightened immediately.
"Morning, Miss Clark."
"Morning. Is Ronan here?"
"Boss left early. Should be back in an hour or two. You can wait for him in the study."
"Okay."
I pushed open the study door and sat on the sofa. I pulled out my phone but didn't know what to look at, so I scrolled mindlessly through videos. I don't know how long passed before two knocks sounded at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened. An unfamiliar maid stood in the doorway. "You are?"
"Good morning, Miss Clark. I'm Helen. Just started today. Andrew has me helping on the third floor."
"What is it?"
"Mr. Valerius had Marco send back a note." Helen pulled a folded slip of paper from her apron pocket and handed it over respectfully. "He said to please meet him at the address he gave."
I unfolded the note. It looked like Ronan's handwriting.
"Ryan, come meet me here."
Red Hook? That area was all docks, abandoned shipping containers, and rusted scaffolding.
Why was Ronan there? I looked up to ask Helen, but she'd already backed toward the door.
"Helen. Did Ronan say anything else?"
"He also said that you come alone."