Page 17 of Myself

Ashlyn stands her up from their chairs and takes her off to Ryder’s bedroom to use the restroom. “How many times?” I ask him once they close his bedroom door behind them.

“What?” he asks, looking at me.

I tip my beer I’ve been holding with a vise-like grip. “How many times do you think he’s made her feel like that?” I should have fought harder four years ago. I should have never let him go with her to Seattle. I knew how he was, but would I be any better than Conner? I don’t want to control her. I just want to be with her. But he ... he treated her like shit. We all saw it but never did anything to fix it. To help her. It’s all our faults in a way. I would beat him up here and there, but never enough to make him not wanna return to her. We stood by and watched him tear her apart piece by piece.

“I don’t know, but I promise it will be the last,” he says, and I agree to that.

The bedroom door opens, and Ashlyn exits alone. “Where’s Becca?” I ask, watching the closed door as if she’ll appear.

“She’s in your bed, Ryder,” she answers, looking at him. “I hope you don’t mind, but she just wanted to lay down for a second. She said the room was spinning and then she just passed out.”

He shakes his head and offers her a shot. When she agrees and sits back down in front of us, he pours three shots. One for each of us. I look down at it as I fist my hands down by my side. How is Ryder just standing here right now? Why isn’t he doing something? Did he not see it? How he treated her? Is he afraid to cross that line? That if he were to touch him, Becca would hate him? It’d be worth it. A man like that never changes. I doubt she is the first woman he’s treated that way, and she won’t be the last.

“He needs to disappear.” I hear him say as if he’s reading my mind.

My thoughts exactly. I slam my shot back and then smile over at him. I take that statement as permission. “I’m already on it.” I take off toward the door as he says something to me, but I ignore it.

I make my way down to the main floor, remembering that Becca had said she found him in the bar. I pray that the bastard hasn’t already left for the airport. I’ll go there if need be, but it would be convenient if he was still in the hotel.

I walk into the softly lit bar full of people. Due to the rain outside, everyone was forced inside for the day, and I find him sitting there with his bag down at his feet. A blonde by his side. His left hand is on her thigh and his lips just inches from hers as she giggles like a fucking schoolgirl.

I walk over to him, grab the back of his shirt, and yank him off his stool. She gasps as he stumbles on his feet. “What the fuck ...?”

“He’ll be right back,” I inform her as she looks at me wide-eyed.

“Jaycent.” He growls as he realizes he’s about to get the ass kicking of his life.

I drag him to the end of the bar and down the hallway before I kick the door open to the men’s room. Shoving him forward, I make sure to the lock the door without even bothering to see if we’re alone.

I turn to face him, and he straightens his shirt as he stands to full height. He smiles at me like I’m his fucking buddy. “What is this? Gonna fight me for her?” He shakes his head, and that smile grows. “Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I don’t want her.”

I fist my right hand, pull it back, and then punch him in the face. He stumbles back into the hand dryer. And I hit him again without pause. His head snaps back, and this time, he hits the wall.

I unclench my hand and shake it out as he slides down onto his ass. He looks up at me, dark eyes hard, as he lifts his hand to wipe the blood that drips from his lip. “Jealous?” he asks as he rises to his feet, needing to use the wall to gain his balance.

“Not hardly,” I say.

He smirks again as his back rests against the wall. “You don’t have to lie, Jaycent. You might have had a piece of her, but you only had that once. I’ve had her over and over ...” I hit him again. This time, my punch makes him spin around, and he hits the countertop.

“Fuck.” He cries out as he leans over the counter and spits blood into the sink. I stand back and watch him burst out laughing. “You know last time you beat the shit out of me; it worked in my favor.” He smiles as he looks at himself in the mirror. “She nursed my wounds for days.” I hate how he makes her sound like his servant. As if she was nothing but a slave to him.

“Last time was just for fun,” I inform him. The last time, I beat him up outside his own home. He had gone to her house afterward and told her that he got mugged. I know because Ryder and I were there when he showed up. Ryder looked at me, and I didn’t have to say a fucking thing. He knew it was me. Later that night, he took me out and bought me drinks.

“And this is what ...?” He licks the blood from his lip. “You trying to be her hero?”

“This is a warning,” I say truthfully.

He fully stands and turns to face me. Pulling his shoulders back, he widens his stance. “A warning for what?”

“Come on, Conner, you can’t be as stupid as you look,” I say. His eyes narrow on me, and he growls.

“She came back to me. Each time.” He shakes his head. “And she’ll come back this time too.”

I hate how true he makes that sound. I don’t understand why she keeps going back to him, but I shake my head at his words. “No, she won’t. She realizes what a fucking piece of shit you are, and she’s glad you’re gone,” I lie. I’m not sure what’s going on in her head right now except for heartache.

His jaw tightens. “I did a favor by taking her back.” He points at his chest. “Me,” he shouts.

I tilt my head to the side. “You believe that? You did her a favor by treating her like shit?”

---