Chapter Six Ryker
Chapter Six
Ryker
Goddamn it, I want her to stay. I hate that she’s driving back and forth, and I have a project going in the house as we speak that will make it possible for her to work here. But it’s her choice. I won’t force her.
When Willow’s car fades from view, I turn to look at Aiden, who’s suddenly taken a keen interest in the ground at his feet. His hands are in the pockets of his baggy jeans, and he shuffles back and forth on his sneaker-clad feet.
I see a lot of myself in him when I was that age.
Attitude.
Chip on his shoulder.
Ready to tell everyone to go fuck themselves.
But he scared Willow today, and that’s never going to happen again. Christ, just seeing her shaken up an hour after it happened has me rattled, and this kid is standing there, looking like he doesn’t give a shit.
And that pisses me the hell off.
“I haven’t seen you much the past few years,” I say, mirroring his stance by putting my hands in my own pockets. “You kept to yourself last weekend when Wills brought you out. I have a question.”
He glances up and lifts his eyebrows.
“Why didn’t you come to Ray’s funeral?”
He shrugs, clenches his jaw. “I was busy.”
“Nah, man. I don’t buy that. Your Aunt Willow could have used you there, you know. It was a hard day for her.”
He shakes his head. “She doesn’t need me. She had you and Gideon.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Let’s walk to the barn. Come on.”
He falls into step next to me.
“So why’d you punch that wall today?”
He lets out a sigh. “She’s always on my case. So what if I stayed out all night with my friends? Who the fuck cares?”
“She cares. Are you fucking some girl?”
His gaze snaps up to mine, surprised, and I gesture to the hickey on his neck.
He shrugs again. That seems to be his go-to mode of communication.
“So you were out all night, doing things you probably shouldn’t with some girl, and you came home this morning and got pissed that Willow had plans for you today.”
“I’m tired,” he says, his voice hard with defiance.
“Tell me you’re using protection. Don’t get that girl pregnant.”
He lets out a gusty breath, and his cheeks darken. “I didn’t fuck her. We just fooled around.”
My stomach loosens with that admission.
“Here’s the thing,” I tell him as we step inside the barn. The other guys are still at the bunkhouse, having breakfast. “Your aunt is one of my favorite people in the world. One of two, now that my dad’s gone. Three, if we count you, but you’re pissing me off today.”
His lips twitch like he wants to laugh, but then he schools his features back into his signature scowl.
“You don’t get to bully her.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, you were. You thought you could intimidate her into getting your way. Don’t bullshit me—I’ve been you before. Shit, I was worse than you. But today’s the last day you treat her like that.”
“Sometimes, I just get so mad.”
“It happens. Come yell at me or use my gym. Hell, I’ll hang a punching bag out here, and you can go to town on it. But you won’t take your shit out on the one person in this world who has stuck up for you and taken care of you. She loves you.”
He blinks rapidly and turns away from me.
“Deal?”
“Yeah. I won’t do it again.”
“Great.” I clap him on the shoulder. “I have some grass for you to mow today. Did you get some breakfast?”
“No, there wasn’t enough time.”
“Let’s get you some food, and then on a mower. It’s going to be a long fucking day.”
I should make him miss breakfast altogether. It’s his own fault for pulling the shit he did on Willow last night and this morning, but I’ve been hungry before, and I’ll never intentionally withhold food from anyone.
We make our way to the bunkhouse, where Dusty’s serving up some scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast, and there’s plenty for Aiden to join in. In the two weeks since Gideon left, I’ve hired five other guys from town, and it seems they’re all getting along just fine.
I make the introductions and then point to Dusty.
“This is your other boss,” I inform Aiden. “You’ll do what he says, no questions asked. If I’m not around, he speaks for me. You won’t sass him.”
“Yes, sir,” Aiden says with a nod, munching on his bacon.
Once everyone has eaten, we go our separate ways to get our chores done. We just got a shipment of cattle in, so Dusty and the other guys will be working with them today.
I’ll have Aiden with me.
“Do I really have to mow all day?” he asks me.
“Yep.”
“I’ll get sunburned.”
“You can borrow a hat,” I reply and clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
I lead him to the equipment shed and show him where the riding mower, the Weedwackers, and all the tools he’ll need are stored.
“Have you mowed a lawn before?”
He frowns over at me. “Of course I have. I mow our lawn at home, but it’s just a push mower because the yard isn’t that big.”
“Same philosophy, different equipment.”
I point out everything that I want him to mow—the entire area around the house, down either side of the driveway, and out in the east pasture by the tree line, where I plan to add some animals.
“That’s ten acres, easy,” he says with huge eyes, finally dropping some of the attitude.
“Roughly that,” I agree, impressed that the teenager can eyeball that off the top of his head. “Did Ray teach you that?”
His face falls, and he shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“I miss him too.” I ruffle the kid’s hair and pass him a hat before putting one on my own head. “While you mow, I’ll be clearing brush and cutting down some trees.”
Aiden nods and, to my surprise, jumps right on the mower and gets it started.
“You’ve done this before.”
With a half smile, he takes off to start his job, and I watch him drive off.
He definitely helped my dad do this before, and that’s good.
I can see that he’s grieving for the only grandfather he had in his life.
I don’t understand why he didn’t come to the funeral to be around family, to take a little solace in us.
He could have spent way more time with us over the past month, and it might have helped him feel better.
He’s a complicated kid, but I’m determined to figure him out. I’m also determined that his days of hurting my Willow are over.
Three days later, we’re inside for lunch.
Aiden is sweaty and dirty, and I actually get a smile out of him when I toss him a can of cola before I make us a couple of sandwiches.
This has become our daily routine, coming inside to make lunch, and he already feels comfortable enough to help himself to a fresh bag of chips in the pantry.
“Do you eat roast beef?” I ask him as he peels open the bag of BBQ chips.
“I eat anything,” he replies with his mouth full, and I can’t help but smirk. He frowns down at his can, as if he wants to say something.
“You can talk,” I tell him. That’s another thing he’s started to do more of over the past few days.
Talk. The first day, he barely said three words.
By this morning, I couldn’t shut him up.
He’s not telling me about what’s going on at school, or why he’s so pissed off at the world, but he is talking, so I won’t complain.
“I don’t want to ask weird questions or something.”
“There’s not much you can ask me that will surprise me.” I pass him a sandwich and get to work building one for me. “Shoot.”
“I want to know about hockey.”
I raise an eyebrow, watching as he consumes a quarter of the sandwich in one bite. I slide the second sandwich over to him. He’ll need it.
Building a third, I nod. “Okay. Ask away. I happen to know a lot about that sport.”
He rolls his eyes. “Duh. People at school always try to get me to ask you for tickets, or jerseys, or whatever. It’s stupid.”
“They know we’re family?”
He nods, stuffs more roast beef in his mouth. “Aunt Willow knows everyone, and they know that you guys grew up together, so that filters down to me. It’s not a big deal. But people are weird.”
“You can say that again.” I take a bite, watching him. “Does it bother you?”
“No, I just tell them to get lost. I don’t have that kind of pull.”
“I would have flown you out for every weekend game, if you wanted to go.”
His eyes widen and jerk up to mine. “Huh?”
“Willow and Gideon used to come to every single game,” I continue. “Before he was with the Secret Service, back when it was early in my career, they’d follow me to every game, whether we were home or away. Then life sort of takes over, you know?”
“She got me and couldn’t travel with you anymore,” he says quietly, staring down at the last of his lunch.
Christ, this kid is smart.
“I don’t think it was much of a sacrifice,” I reply and reach over the island to ruffle his already messy dark hair. “She was happy to have you. Have you ever noticed that whenever I give an interview, I always wink at the camera at the end?”
“Sure. I figure it’s because you’re being cocky.”
“I am cocky,” I confirm, and then make the boy another sandwich because he still looks hungry. “But the wink is for Willow. She knows.”
“That’s why she always watches ESPN, looking for your interviews.”
I pause with a slice of cheese in my fingers. “She does?”
“Yeah. She watches more sports than me. Hockey, anyway. She watches every game. We had a ritual where we wore our jerseys and she made us nachos, or pizza, or burgers, and we ate while we watched. She mostly did that by herself last year because I was out with friends.”
He frowns and swallows hard but takes the new sandwich and bites in.
Willow watched every game.
I always hoped she did, but I knew she had Aiden to take care of, so I never assumed. She was always sure to call me to talk about the game, but she could have easily watched highlights to have talking points.
But she didn’t just watch the highlights. She watched the games. And that has my chest feeling tight.
This does not help my growing obsession with this woman.