Page 18 of Ryder

My answer was to seal my lips to his, my tongue searching for his warmth as he writhed beneath me. His hardened excitement elicited a primal need inside me, one I was powerless to control, let alone stop. The heat from him fueled my own, the need to crawl inside him such an odd feeling, yet it made perfect sense to me. As he dominated me with his kiss and while his hands cupped and squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples through my thin camisole, I couldn’t help but think that if we had sex right then, nothing would change.

Ryder would continue to keep me at bay, throwing me tiny scraps of affection and wilted promises whenever the mood, or alcohol, struck him. If I had any hope of recovering from the already brutal attack he’d had on my heart, then I needed to stop giving in to him.

One more second.

Okay, two more seconds. Then I’ll pull away.

Oh hell, I had to slowly count to twenty before I ended the kiss, pushing off his large frame and stumbling to my feet. He reached for me, the frown painting his face enticing me to jump right back into his arms.

This man is dangerous.

“I need to go back to bed now.” I backed up a few steps, keeping a close eye on him for any sudden movements.

“I’ll come with you,” he offered, trying to push off the couch, a feat which failed miserably as he simply couldn’t find his footing. Our sofa was worn in and super comfy, the cushions molding to the body like a second skin. Add in a large, muscular man, whose reflexes were compromised from drinking, and there was no way he was getting off the couch without some help. And I knew if I approached him, he’d just yank me back down on top of him.

Ryder quickly gave up, his eyes starting to close as his body leaned to the side. Eventually he ended up lying on his back, his right foot resting on the floor while his left one was stretched out in front of him. Reaching behind me, I grabbed a blanket from the recliner and draped it over him. Pulling off his boots, I tossed them to the side and tucked the edges of the blanket underneath him. I watched as his breathing evened out, a peace drifting over him as if nothing in the world bothered him. Too bad I knew it was only a façade. Ryder was plagued by things he deemed too dark to ever confess.

When I turned and quietly walked across the room, about to turn the corner, I heard him say, “I saw him kill my mom. How do I ever get over something like that?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, every muscle on lockdown while I waited for another confession, but no other words filled the air.

Ryder

The blare of a car alarm jolted me awake, my hands instantly clutching my head to try and stop the pounding. Normally, I didn’t suffer from hangovers; I must’ve drank an awful lot of shitty beer last night.

I hadn’t been so out of it that I didn’t remember what happened, however. I knew damn well I’d threatened Jagger to drive me to Braylen’s house, the need to see her greater than I’d ever felt before in my life. With minimal reluctance, he’d finally agreed, not so much to help me out but because I was sure he wanted to spend time with Kena. Either way, mission accomplished.

I remembered pulling Braylen on top of me as I fell onto the couch, then apologizing and spewing something about not being able to get her out of my head. Then kissing her sweet lips. Then trying to get off the couch but failing, my body finally giving in to exhaustion, the alcohol flowing through my veins thickening and rendering me useless.

As I struggled to sit up, I suddenly remembered the worst thing of all. My hands came up to cradle my face, a groan of disbelief barreling from my mouth as I tried like hell to wish it away. I’d said out loud that I saw my mother killed in front of me.

Did she hear me? Had she left the room by the time the words escaped? If she did hear me, will she ask me about it?So many questions, none of which I would find the answer to unless I brought it up.

Reaching inside my jeans, I pulled my phone out to check the time—5:00 a.m. A sudden feeling of nerves took hold, so I scrambled off the couch, almost fell the fuck over, righted myself and went in search of Jagger. I needed the keys to his truck. I had to get out of there before Braylen woke up, before she decided toshrinkme into telling her all about my sordid past.

After briefly returning home, I showered, changed and headed toward the club, remnants of my drunken haze still lingering. Being alone with my thoughts was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed a distraction, and who better to gift me with such a thing than my brothers. While it was still relatively early—six thirty, to be exact—I was sure someone would be there. And if not, then I’d set up at the bar and startforgettingright away.

Forgetting I’d made a fool of myself by showing up at Braylen’s house, drunk and insistent she see me.

Forgetting I’d basically passed out on her couch after having a taste of her sweetness.

Forgetting I’d mentioned my mother.

Forgetting Jagger was gonna be pissed that I’d taken his truck without his knowledge.

Forgetting I even cared.

I was close to ten minutes away from my destination when a vehicle unexpectedly cut in front of me, crossing lanes without any sort of warning. Besides being pissed, something screamed at me to pay attention, more so than I normally would have. An Oldsmobile Cutlass with faded and peeling blue paint, along with a bumper that was held on by duct tape, careened into the opposing lane before righting the wheel, slowing down and then speeding up. I kept my distance when normally I would have sped up and passed him off. At first glance it appeared as if a drunk driver was behind the wheel, but I quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

The Cutlass pulled closer to the side of the road but never stopped completely. I let up on the gas, slowing the truck even more. The next thing I knew something was tossed from the passenger side window, and as soon as the object cleared the car’s interior, the driver gunned it and took off like a shot. I was honestly shocked the ol’ girl had so much gumption left in her.

Several moments later, I pulled over to where the Cutlass had slowed, my tires kicking up gravel until I eventually came to a stop. I had no idea what had been discarded, but I knew I couldn’t leave without checking what it was. It could’ve been a bag of trash, the bastard too lazy to dispose of it properly, although my gut was telling me otherwise.

Throwing the truck in Park, I exited and walked around the back until I came to the side of the road closest to the small embankment. And that was when I saw a white garbage bag with black handles. Upon closer inspection, I saw the bag was moving ever so slightly. When I was a few feet away, I finally heard a noise, a whimpering sound trapped inside the confinement.

What the fuck?I proceeded with caution. For all I knew the guy could’ve tossed out a raccoon he’d caught, or a skunk, or any other kind of rodent. The closer I got the more I knew the animal inside wasn’t any of those things. Crouching down, I cautiously untied the knotted black plastic handles, pulling apart the ends of the garbage bag until I could peer inside.

Looking back up at me were a tiny pair of pale blue eyes, a face so bewildered it tugged at my heart. It was a puppy. I’d always been an animal lover, even had a dog I loved with all my heart when I was young, so when I saw what that bastard threw out of his window, fury pounded through me. My skin was hot, my heart thumping wildly inside my chest.

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