Page 102 of Forgotten Pieces

Memory hits me as I think back to Ryder telling me his stepdad moved backed to Towson. That his stepdad was supplying his mom with booze and smokes.

“Fuck,” I say as I scramble for my shoes. “Shit. Fuck. Shit.”

Laney looks at me like I’m crazy.

“I need you to drive me to Towson.”

“Okay,” she says.

“I think you should call Mac too.”

“What’s going on?”

“I think he went to his stepdad’s.”

“Shit.”

We get into the car and Laney calls Mac. I know I am risking a lot by letting him come with us but I am not sure what I am going to find once we reach the address Ryder sent me to.

Luckily, when we pick Mac up, he doesn’t ask questions about mine and Ryder’s relationship.

When we pull up to the trailer, I see a side of Ryder I have never seen before. The man I know looks like a boy, terrified and broken as an older man has him by the throat.

I jump out of the car before it even comes to a stop. Running up to the chaos.

His stepdad is not quite as large as Ryder but since Ryder is wasted, his strength is diminished.

“Ryder,” I scream as I reach the two men.

His stepdad drops Ryder and turns to me. “Who is this pretty little thing, Ry Ry? You robbin’ the cradle? We are more alike than you think.”

His stepdad’s words make me want to vomit. I step away as he tries to reach for me but Ryder finds his strength and hits him in the jaw causing his stepdad to fall back.

Mac arrives just as Ryder wraps his arms around me and pulls us both to the ground.

Mac kicks Ryder’s stepdad a few times until he is passed out and drags him back to the house.

“You got him?” Mac asks me as we both carry Ryder to his truck and push him into the passenger seat.

“Yeah.”

He nods at me and walks back to Laney’s car, not asking questions.

I walk around to the driver’s side and see the window is smashed in.

I take my hoodie off and use it to wipe the glass off the seat.

Ryder is passed out drunk in the car, soft snores coming from him as he leans against the passenger window. I stop at a gas station and grab some ice and a first aid kit before I head to the lake.

I park the truck and scoot over next to Ryder. I clean off the cut above his brow, the sting of the alcohol waking him up.

“Shhh. It’s okay.”

He looks at me in disbelief. “How—what is going on?”

I wipe away the dried blood before placing a band-aid over the cut. “You called me.”

“I did?”

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