Page 101 of Ryker

“You’re here now.”

Why does she excuse my behavior? “I’m not sure why I’m back.”

“Yes, you do.” Tara bends down and runs her hand over the top of the tombstone. “Hi. I’m Tara. Your son has grown into a great man.” She looks back at me and smiles. “And he’s missed you very much, Ashley.”

I want to throw myself off a fucking bridge.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a minute.” She keeps her head down and walks away, leaving me alone to face the consequences of my actions.

I have no clue why I brought Tara here. Maybe it was to introduce her to my reasons for everything. Maybe it was because I had no clue where else to go.

Maybe it’s because I’ve missed my mother terribly and it was time.

Ever since Tara stepped into my world, it’s been upside down. This is one more snowflake in my globe, whirling around me.

“I love you,” I say, falling to my knees. Gripping the top of her stone, I fight too many emotions assaulting me at once. “I miss you so much.” My throat tightens. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when I should have been.” I say a dozen more things that seem to tumble out of my mouth in a jumble of pathetic words. My eyes burn. My chest feels like someone’s stabbed it with a railway spike.

Hundreds of memories flood me. Some bad. Some good. Some beautiful and innocent and wonderful because they were before she got sick and deteriorated on me. My heart clenches because I miss the sound of her laugh. God, I’d give up everything I have just to hear her laugh one more time.

Or to taste her spaghetti again.

I hated it when I was a kid because I knew every time she made it, we’d be eating the leftovers for a week. The number of attempts I’ve made to recreate her sauce since she’s been gone is countless.

“I think I’ve found someone,” I whisper to her stone.

Look, I know my mom’s not here. And I’m not sure if I believe in Heaven or Hell or even God because what the fuck kind of creator would have my mom suffer her whole damn life—surviving one tragedy to battle another and another? But it feels good to talk to her. I haven’t done that. Ever.

“I have no idea how long it’ll last, but she makes me do all the things you said would happen.”

My mom once told me I’ll know I’ve found my person when they simultaneously make me feel the chaos of every emotion under the sun while bringing me complete peace. I said the dosage of her meds was too high, and that she needed to cut them in half. She threw a pillow at me and said, “You’ll see. If they don’t make you a little crazy and a little calm at the same time, they’re not it.”

“Tara’s it.” Searching across the cemetery for her, I spot my girl leaning against a tree, looking away from me. Her flowery sundress blows in the breeze, and warmth fills my hollow chest.

I’m done sabotaging myself and our potential.

Marching across the graves with my sight trained on her, I know what I want and by God, I’m fucking taking it.

She must hear me trampling through the grass because she turns around with a smile.

I grab her face and smash my mouth to hers. Lifting on her toes, Tara sinks her hands in my hair and runs them down my neck, holding me captive. Our bodies press together, and my impenetrable glass enclosure shatters, spilling a lifetime of heartache, anger, hunger, depravity, and grief all over the ground. Each of my snowflake terrors slide and scatter, melting in the warmth of her touch.

It’s like being gutted and resurrected at the same time.

Pressing her back against the tree, I deepen this kiss for all I’m worth.

And I’m worth a fucking lot.

Our tongues twirl around one another. We breathe the same air. Her body presses completely against mine and it’s like being fused to passion itself. I can’t get enough of her. I want to feel every inch of her sweet skin. I want to fuck us both into oblivion.

She doesn’t make me forget my pain, but Tara quiets the storm inside me. I simultaneously love and abhor it. The storm is all I’ve known. To see a ray of sunshine almost hurts because it’s so fucking precious. I’ve been afraid to look at it, feel it, embrace it.

There’s been a lot of push and pull between us. I’m done pushing. I’m done pulling. I want to take her. Keep her.

“Come on,” I say, carrying her away from the tree.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.” I want to bring Tara to my safe place. “We’re going home.”