Page 18 of Redemption

“No, it’s stupid.” She pulled it to her chest. “I don’t know why I even made it.”

“Because you’re you, and you’re awesome.” He wrapped an arm around her neck, knocking them both to their sides, and took it from her.

Twelve. Because once upon a time, you told me that we might only be in this place for a few days, a few months, or years, but that it would be okay if we were buds.

Thirteen. I like you. A lot.

Fourteen. More than friends. Happy birthday, I hope you don’t hate me.

The tingly feeling in his stomach flooded his mind. He read the last line over and over before he noticed that Zoe was still as a log and quieter than she’d ever been. They were both laying on his bed, side by side with only the handmade card in between him. He slowly took it down and stared at her. She didn’t make a peep. Her unsure eyes were unlike anything he’d experienced before. She was worried he’d back away—that he’d say it wasn’t like that between them, and everything between them would fade away?

“I don’t hate you,” he promised.

But that wasn’t what she’d said, just her biggest fear. Ryder swallowed, unsure what he was supposed to say. These things, they didn’t come up between them. He didn’t know the right words. But he knew she was the closest person to him. He felt as though he was supposed to be hanging out with her, getting in trouble with her, helping her stay out of trouble, sneaking in, out. Stealing cupcakes.

Nerves swarmed in his chest, but words didn’t form on his tongue. Ryder leaned forward and wanted to explain but couldn’t. His lungs pounded, and the echo of his pulse drummed in his ears as he leaned to her and pressed his lips to hers.

A surge, a thrill, unlike anything he’d ever known ran through him when the softness of her mouth met his. His nerves left as he eased closer, having never tasted anything sweeter than icing on the lips of a girl.His girl.

She kissed him back, and they stopped, laying side by side, eyes open.

“More than friends,” he said, and his best mate became his girlfriend for his birthday.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The mid-morning sun pushed through the east-facing window, and Victoria cringed against the new day in the giant, welcoming house. She could’ve been there an hour, could’ve been there a year. At this point, it was all the same in Colby and Mia Winters’s guest bedroom.

Victoria was smart enough to realize that her complete exhaustion was dangerously close to a mental breakdown. By the time Colby picked her up and Mia greeted her at the door, Victoria had been positive that her arms weren’t functioning properly, her mind had moved the pace of sludge, and her legs were baby deer weak. Somehow, she’d showered and slipped into bed in clean clothes.

Yawning as she fought the decision to wake up or force herself back to sleep, Victoria pulled a pillow over her head. Had one day gone by? Or was it two? Embracing sleep was all she wanted to do—with occasional trips to the bathroom and eating because she had to. That was the only way she was surviving because the sleep wasn’t working.

Damn it.

Detaching from reality was the only option for recovery because so far, closing her eyes and fading away in the lush blankets and thick pillows had meant nothing but fitful, nightmare-riddled sleep. Not even the sound of kids laughing and playing from somewhere in the house woke her up, and Victoria loved playing with kids. She didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or give up.

“I’m a fake.”

She rolled over in the thick comforter and pulled the soft fabric to her nose. The Downy-fresh scent should have semi-comforted her while sleeping, but awake again, she didn’t want to deal with life.

It wasn’t that she was raped. It wasn’t that she’d been imprisoned. It was that she’d been taken against her will—that she hadn’t seen it coming and couldn’t figure out a way to escape it once the play was in motion.

What kind of bounty hunter had she been? How good were her self-defense skills?

A light knock on her door interrupted the career-questioning spiral she was prepared to go on. Maybe, if she didn’t answer, no one would bother her. Or maybe she should because if there was one thing Victoria had learned in the short time she’d spent awake, it was that Mia Winters was a pint-sized force of nature who got what she wanted. That whole deceptively innocent act was bull. If she knocked, she was coming in.

The door cracked. Mia poked her head inside with her brown hair curling around her chin. “Are you alive?”

“Questionable.”

Mia stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “At least you’re awake.”

“That’s debatable too.” Victoria burrowed under the covers and cringed. What kind of bitchy nut job did she sound like? Mia let her stay in her house, eat her food, and found her clothes that fit, sight unseen, and still Victoria was a wreck. What kind of woman would put up with her BS?

Her eyes went wide under the covers.Maybe… someone who had been there before?Victoria pulled the blanket down, eyeing the petite lady as she padded past the bed with a tray of food.

“Ah, um.” She cleared her throat, thinking of ways to apologize for the bitchiness while still somewhat paralyzed. “That came out different than it sounded in my head.”

“How’d it come out?” Mia turned from the side table where she’d placed the tray.

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