Page 37 of Ryder

“Bra . . . Braylen,” he slurred, “What are you doin’ here?” Before I could answer, he yelled, “Go! You need to go.”

Marek and Tripp tried to hold him back, but he pushed them, causing them to lose their footing. Jagger was right, Ryder seemed to have the strength of ten men. Okay, maybe not ten, but definitely superhuman strength.

“What’s wrong, baby,” I soothed, reaching out to touch him, to try and offer him some sort of solace in his crazed state of mind.

“You can . . . can’t be here. You ca . . . can’t see me like this.” He erased the remaining distance between us and all of the men froze, waiting to see what he’d do. When I looked into his eyes, they were blank, a void shadowing his essence. I’d never seen anything like it, not in all my life.

“Ryder, please tell me how I can help you. Do you want to go somewhere? Just you and me?”

It was like he never heard me, schooling his expression before grabbing me and pulling me impossibly close. The smell of the whiskey on his breath made my eyes water.

“Let her go!” Jagger shouted, trying to pry Ryder’s hands off me, but to no avail. My upper arms started to ache, but I needed to make him see that I was right there with him. For him.

“Tell me what happened,” I pleaded.

A tear fell from the corner of his eye but he made no move to wipe it away, allowing the trickle of emotion to show his distress. I’d never seen him look so broken before and it tore at my soul. Something had devastated him. Destroyed him.

“I couldn’t do it,” he whispered, another tear falling as his shoulders started to shake. He was having some sort of breakdown.

I had to try and be strong enough for the both of us. I had to push aside my fear and attempt to reach him, make him tell me what happened.

“You couldn’t do what?”

“He stole every . . . everything from me,” he slurred, “and I couldn’t fu . . . fuckin’ do it.” His breathing turned labored. “My mom,” he garbled, but I’d heard him.

“Who did?” I tried to keep him on point, but he was drifting all over the place.

“I gave him a ch . . . choice and he didn’t pick her.”

At that point, I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Had he really split from reality? Were his nightmares filtering into his consciousness, making it difficult to decipher what was real and what wasn’t?

As if finally realizing he was holding me, a look drifted over his face before he shoved me away from him, stronger than I believed he meant to. I lost my footing and fell on my ass, hurting my wrist on the way to the ground because I was trying to break my fall.

“Goddamnit!” Stone yelled, rushing forward with Jagger and Tripp. They tackled him, but not before Ryder threw out a few punches on his way down.

Kena rushed toward me and helped me to my feet, pulling me back toward the other side of the room. Other than my wrist, I wasn’t hurt.

Scared.

Shook up.

But physically intact.

“Don’t hurt him,” I cried, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. It took all three men just to hold him down. “Please, let him go.” I cradled my head in my hands. I just couldn’t bear to watch them hurt him any longer.

“Hold him still,” someone shouted. “I need to get this in his arm before he hurts someone else. Or himself.”

Several moments passed before the shouts subsided. I was afraid to look, so I kept my head down until someone tapped my shoulder. When I didn’t budge, they smacked my arm. My head shot up.

Kena.

He’s out cold. I think they injected him with something.Tears drifted down her face, she was so shaken up. I hated that she’d witnessed Ryder shove me, but I was fine. I had to convince her of that. Besides, the man who pushed me wasn’t Ryder at all. That was someone else inhabiting his body. There was a reason, a dark reason he went off the rails, and I needed to find out what it was.

Jagger finally came over to see me. “Are you okay, Braylen? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I really thought you being here would’ve calmed him down. Instead I think I made it worse.” Jagger looked so distraught. I felt bad for the guy.

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