Page 21 of Redemption

“You’re killing me.” He clutched at his heart.

“Alright, don’t die on my watch.” Mia relented semi-jokingly and moved to the door, hanging onto the knob. “If I didn’t love you, I’d kick you out myself.”

“Don’t I know it.” He turned back toward Victoria as Mia let the door click shut.

It was just the two of them, and carefully, as though he had to plant one footstep in front of the other, he made his way closer but stopped parallel, not coming close to the edge of the mattress.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She finally managed to get over her aversion to the spoken word around him. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Odd, how there was a two-foot gap between him and her bed, but he seemed miles away. Ryder had seen her in her most needy, most vulnerable moments, but now they had this awkward threshold of appropriateness. Forget that he pulled a gun from her hand so she didn’t murder a bastard. Forget how she fell apart, crying and shaking, exhausted after weeks of living in fear of Ivan Mikhailov.

Ryder had barely said a word, and that was what she needed: to be held for hours and cry. He didn’t make her talk about it. Not a single word. She let it all out. But why was he here now?

God, he was such a beautiful man.A protective one.Her eyes dropped to his arms, and she remembered how safe they made her feel.

She sank back into the mess of covers, letting it swallow her alive. If she wasn’t broken or depressed, she’d be attracted to him. But she was so damn tired. Victoria closed her eyes.Tired, broken. Ruined, probably.Would she feel anything again except for this all-encompassing shame from not keeping herself safe? No. The likely answer was no.

“Mia mentioned you hadn’t come out much.”

When she’d been held against her will in Russia, living in a room with a dozen other girls, she’d been the strong one, the one they turned to and relied on. She was strong for them, for herself. Victoria had promised there would be a way out of hell, that they would go back to wherever they came from, and she’d been right.

Except now she didn’t want to face Mia and could barely look at Ryder.

“Victoria?” Ryder’s low voice was like a soothing touch. “Is there anything I can do?”

She wanted another hug. Instead of asking, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to sit right here.” The side of the mattress dipped slightly under his weight.

She didn’t say anything, but she nodded, not trusting her voice to lie to him again. What was it about him? Needing him close? Of course, she cared. He protected her, saved her when she couldn’t do that for herself.

Her eyes burned, tears escaped, and she swatted those bastards away, hating how out of control her mind spun.Raped three times by one of the most powerful men in the world.This, she knew, would affect her. By training, by career, by natural logic, she should know this and accept it.

“You should cry. Kick. Scream. Whatever you need to,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to,” Victoria gasped, unable to contain her choking tears. Her shoulders shook. Memories of Ivan’s face, his hands—they were too much. Once, she fought him and was hurt far more than the other times. Then she lay there and was mentally worse off. The last time, she did both and had both the bruises and the mindfuck to remember Ivan by.God! Why? And how did this happen?

The tears came. She couldn’t stop them, and she hated the path they burned down her cheeks, hated that Ryder was witness to her unraveling, just like he’d been in Russia.

He rested his hand on her back, not speaking, and he didn’t move to shush her. His palm simply rested there.

“Ryder.” She fell against him, and he wrapped his arm around her.

“Easy, love,” he whispered. “Take a breath.”

“I can’t.”

His chin touched the top of her head, and the arms that she knew could hug her like all hell did the job, wrapping her away from the world until the tears stopped.

“Feel better?”

Nodding, Victoria drew in a deep breath, wiping under her eyes. “Could you hand me a tissue?”

He was already halfway off the bed as if reading her mind and handed her the box. Again, Victoria wiped her face. With another fresh tissue to cover her eyes, she could barely look at him.

“This can’t be what you signed up for,” Victoria mumbled. “Sorry.”

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