Chapter twenty Rylan
Chapter twenty
Rylan
I’m sipping a glass of scotch when the notification comes through on my phone that there’s movement near the front door.
Admittedly, I installed it after Bex caught me off guard when she stormed in here after her mom died. I have no qualms with her barging in and throwing herself at me again, but I realized other people could—like Olivia. And I’d rather avoid that disaster.
Pulling up the camera, I smile as Bex walks up the steps, hesitating at the door. Watching, I wait to see if she lets herself in since she knows the code.
A laugh bubbles out when she opts to ring the doorbell like a normal guest, clearly remembering the last time as well.
I exit the camera feed and send her a quick text, telling her to just come in.
By the time I’ve left my room and wandered downstairs, Bex is standing in the foyer with a smile on her face.
“Afraid to burst in again?” I tease.
“More like avoiding your father,” she mumbles, obviously deflecting since I already told her earlier he wasn’t here. Stubborn woman.
I cross the floor when I reach the bottom, pulling her flush against me. She melts into my frame, leaning up on her toes to bring our lips together.
Fuck. She tastes and feels so good. It should kill me how much I’ve grown to detest her absence, but I find that I don’t care.
I hate that we’re in this predicament. The ridiculous feud continues to rear its ugly head, reminding all of us that there might be no happy ending when everything is said and done.
I won’t let that happen though. I’d rather lose everything if it means I get to keep her.
Despite all odds, against the legacies engrained in us, Bexley made my world seem a little less lonely. She saw me—the real version—when no one else cared. To them, I was just a leader, expected to do my job and be at everyone’s beck and call.
I was deemed selfish if I wanted to do something for myself.
Or ridiculed when I failed to live up to my father’s standards.
But where they saw fault, Bexley saw strength and a real person.
It’s how she was able to bring us down—the walls we built were made with the bricks of others.
But hers? Those walls were created through tenacity, authenticity, and determination to prove and show her worth.
They are designed to weather the worst storms… because she’d already survived them.
“I heard what happened,” I say, pulling back with reluctance. “Just say the word and I’ll have Perkins dealt with.”
Bexley grins, pinching my cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re protective.”
“I’m not joking. They are taking it too far.”
Her eyes soften, holding mine. “Don’t blame yourself,” she murmurs, voicing the guilt I most definitely have inside at the moment.
It’s true though. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t said those words, my father would be none the wiser, and Liv wouldn’t have sent the Willowbrook cohort after her.
It’s my fault that she’s being targeted. And it’s my fault she got hurt.
Even if she hasn’t admitted it.
No one is speaking up about the incident.
The three of us already tried to interrogate the possible culprits.
But other than Perkins, who conveniently disappeared from classes for the rest of the day, we have no idea who else was involved.
Even then, we only know it was Perkins because Soph heard his voice shouting at Bexley before finding her on the floor banged up.
I also have my suspicions that the shady dealing I witnessed between him and Liv probably has a little something to do with it all too.
Perkins may be an idiot, but he’s physically strong, and extremely easy at being convinced to do something if there’s a benefit for him too.
The thought of him putting hands on Bexley has me convincing myself that orange is my color.
“It is my fault,” I answer, deflated. “I’m better than that, Bex.
I should have realized we weren’t somewhere private.
And I should have done more to protect you.
” Pausing, my face hardens. “The only reason I’m not already going after him is out of respect for you.
Because you better believe I want nothing more than to make them all pay for it.
I know a great spot on my running trail to hide a dead body. ”
Bexley’s eyes dance with amusement as she fails to fight back a grin. “Wow. We’ve jumped from love confessions to promises of murder. Honestly, what more could a girl ask for?”
“Three dicks and an endless supply of caffeine?”
“Well, shit,” she breathes out. “You’ve just raised the bar, Astor.”
“Consider it done then. Good job breaking Hunter, by the way. He seems much less stressed now. I was nearly about to smother him.”
My joke is cut off as Lawless Dragons starts playing—one of their new songs—the pair of us glancing down at my ringing cell. I tense up when I spot the name flashing across the screen, on the verge of rejecting the call when Bexley places a kiss on my cheek.
“You can answer it if you need to.”
I grimace. “I have nothing to fucking say to him, Bex.”
Her lips linger on my cheek, breath tingling my skin. “You can’t avoid him forever. And I’m here for support.”
My eyes close as I allow myself a brief second to indulge in her touch. Realizing she’s correct, I curse under my breath, hitting the accept button just before it rings out to voicemail.
“Father,” I answer coldly, opening my eyes and locking them on Bexley’s. Her gaze is firm, unwavering as she sends me silent strength.
The usual detached tone doesn’t take me by surprise, but his words do. “Why is that girl in my house, Rylan?”
I don’t know how he knows. I haven’t told him about the camera I installed. But I wouldn’t put it past him to have his own hidden ones somewhere.
“She has a name,” I snap back, not bothering to deny it. “And she’s here because I want her here.”
His gruff laugh is loud and clear, Bexley’s eyebrow cocking at the sound. “You stupid boy. One day you’ll thank me for this, Rylan. I know what’s best for this family.”
“And you think the best option is to bribe her into leaving?” I growl.
“Hmm,” he agrees. “It worked for your mother, didn’t it? They are very alike. Trust me, Rylan—one day you’ll look back on this moment. Whether you have regrets is dependent on your next move. I’d choose wisely.”
Bexley’s warm hand cups my cheek, and it’s only then I realize it’s because I’m shaking with unbridled anger. I’ll never forgive him for making her leave. He tried to justify it back then as well, and for a while there, I disgusted myself for believing his reasoning.
But now I know everything he does is for manipulation and control. And if he can’t control someone or something, he makes them go away…
“I choose her,” I reply firmly, holding Bexley’s gaze. “Every fucking day.”
I hang up the phone before I can fully implode and unleash nearly two decades of unspoken thoughts. Bex reaches for the device, carefully slipping it out of my death grip and pocketing it as I close my eyes and try to calm myself.
I can be a real asshole. Hell, Bex has been on the receiving end her fair share of times when I was still under his influence. I don’t want her to see me like this—have to deal with the anger I have for that man when he’s already threatened her because of me.
“Ry,” she whispers. “Look at me.”
Shaking my head, I blindly snake an arm around her waist so she doesn’t think I’m mad at her. “I need a minute, Bex. God, I fucking hate him so much.”
She molds into me, her scent already doing more to calm me in this moment than that man has ever achieved in my entire life.
“I need you to look at me,” she murmurs softly but full of strength, both hands cupping my face. “Please.”
I open my eyes, unable to resist. She leans forward, capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. “I love you,” she breathes out.
That asshole is long forgotten as an unfamiliar warm and captivating feeling spreads through my body, embracing every single fear, doubt and regret I’ve ever had.
“Thank fuck,” I say with a laugh, relieved. Bex lets out a squeal as I crush her against my body, hugging her tight.
Let him do his worst. Let him try.
He’s already stolen so much from me. I won’t let him take this.
He can’t take her.
I’ll fucking kill him without thinking twice about it.
“I should probably mention something weird,” Bex murmurs, fingers dancing aimlessly along my bare chest.
My eyebrow shoots up as I glance down at her, enjoying the feel of her naked body pressed into my side. “Should I be concerned?” I ask jokingly. “But if you need an ice pack, I can definitely get one.”
Bexley slaps my pec. “Hilarious,” she muses. “Good to see your ego is still intact. I was worried you’d turn into a lovesick marshmallow.”
“That’s Tai’s job,” I answer. “And you love my ego. You said so yourself.”
“I said I love you,” she shoots back. “Your ego still drives me fucking insane.”
I grin. “That’s not what you were saying ten minutes ago.”
Her expression deadpans as she shakes her head, muffling a laugh. “Can I finish my story or are you a lost cause?”
“Fine, proceed,” I mumble, running a hand along her back.
Nuzzling into me further, she rests her chin on my chest. “This is going to make me sound paranoid, but on the off chance I’m not insane, I had the feeling I was being watched today.”
Well that’s a damn buzzkill.
I still my hand movement, gazing at her. “I don’t think you’re paranoid or insane. What happened?”
Bexley frowns. “After I left Peyton with Steele,” she pauses, glaring at me as I let out a small growl at the mention of him. “I kept seeing the same car behind me when I drove home. But it would disappear before turning up again. So, I can’t be sure.”
“What did it look like?” I ask.
“Black standard kind of town car. The windows were heavily tinted so I didn’t get a look at the driver. But I mean, it could have been different cars. I just thought it was worth mentioning after everything.”
I nod, serious. “No—I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t put it past my father to be tailing us. Him and George have connections, and I’m certain I’ve pissed him off.”
Bexley strokes my cheek. “Pretty sure I pissed him off first.”
“I’m starting to get the impression that this feud has a darker history than they’ve let on,” I reply. “Did anyone ever explain why we have to uphold the tradition?”
She sits up slightly, deep in concentration. “No,” she says slowly. “Just that Willowbrook hate us and we hate them. Seems kind of stupid when you think about it. What about you?”
I shake my head. “The only information I’ve ever come across is that the feud started between two men decades ago. They had a dispute which they couldn’t sort out so they separated into the two academies. And when that still didn’t resolve the tension, eventually the fight nights were introduced.”
“Do we know what the dispute was about?”
“No,” I answer. “It wasn’t relevant apparently—just that we were expected to continue to defend Willowbrook’s honor.”
Bexley raises an eyebrow. “We don’t even know why we hate each other. Just that we should?”
“Yep,” I sigh, then chuckle. “And then you came along and shattered the decades-long illusion.”
“Oops?” She offers dryly. “My bad.”
I throw her a smirk, suddenly flipping her onto her back as I cover her body. “Oh, yeah,” I mumble sarcastically, pressing my lips to her neck. “I can tell you’re really torn up and feeling guilty about it.”