Page 62 of Twisted Bonds
Thirty-Five
Beau
I’m fucking up, and I don’t know what to do. I thought I’d be able to handle it. I mean, I did bully Ryan for almost three years of her life, so why is it so hard to be that way during sex? Instead, I let what D’Angelo did get to me, and I took it out on her. What I said afterward isn’t what I meant to have come out of my mouth.
I had paced the master suite for a while—most of the afternoon, actually. When I finally decided to shower and lay down, I hadn’t realized I would sleep well into late evening. I woke up a little after seven but stayed in the room until I could figure out how to apologize to Ryan. I owed it to her.
By the time I came out of the room and went searching for her, it was already after eight, and I began to freak out when she was nowhere in the house. Looking outside, I noticed her car was gone, so I waited another hour, hoping she just ran to the store, but she never came home. There were only two places she could have gone, and I was really hoping one of them wasn't it.
I knew I should have let her be and waited until she returned, but I couldn’t. I've spent too much time away from her. So, what did I do? I jumped in my truck and drove to the shelter houses, hoping I’d find her.
Liv is the one to answer the doorwhen I knock. When I ask for Ryan, she gives me a sympathetic look and her eyes move toward the Manor.Nodding at the big house, she says, "Your father took her to the Manor because she was having an attack."
"An attack?" I question, confused.
"Yeah, Laney and Heather found her sitting in the shower while the water was ice cold. She gets these attacks when things get bad. That’s why…" Liv lets her words trail off, knowing I’d understand the unspoken ones, and I do.
Ryan needed a session, which means she’s in my father’s playroom doing God knows what. I shouldn’t be mad; I knew how emotionally withdrawn she’d been. I should have known better than to do and say what I did today. I may have just pushed my girl into my father’s bed.
"Thank you, Liv," I say and give her a slight smile.
"Anytime, Beau. Good luck, I’m rooting for you—I hope you know that." She waits until I nod my acknowledgment before closing the door.
Confronting my father after finding them together in his playroom wasn’t easy. At the end of the day, he’s still my father, but damn, it hurts knowing that he’s been with Ryan. The worst part is that I can see how much he loves her.
Whatever has occurred between him and my mother will have to be addressed. I need to talk to her and find out what's happening because I thought she wanted to get back with my dad. Something isn’t adding up if he’s telling me something different.
After leaving my father’s office, I did what I said I would do; I went to see Ryan, but not to try and bring her home. I won't make her do anything she doesn’t want to do, so when she answers the door and sees that it’s me, I have to cut her off because she goes right into how she isn’t going home with me.
"I know. I’m not here to make you go home. I want to apologize for earlier."
"Well, you should be apologizing to your father, not me," she says.
"No. I’m talking about earlier today. What I did, and what I said. It should never have left my mouth. Ry, I don’t think of you in that light. I guess I was just confused and then angered when you said you liked what I was doing. My brain took it the wrong way and thought you were saying that you liked it whentheydid that to you."
Ryan steps outside and closes the door behind her. "Beau, what you need to understand is that even though I was planning on getting out of there one day, I knew there were no guarantees, so I needed to devise a plan of my own. I needed to earn their trust, and I also needed to learn to like what they did to me. Otherwise, I’d be miserable; that was no way to live. I wanted to live onmyterms. None of that means that I liked what they did to me. I just trained my body to enjoy it, and I did it for myself because, for once in my life, I wanted to live. Do you know why that is?"
When all I do is stand here because I don’t think she needs an answer from me, she says, "It’s because I was hoping that I’d be coming home to you. I was trying to keep living foryou."
Fuck. What do I say to this? I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I? Ever so slowly, I reach up and cup her cheek with my hand. I caress the silkiness of her skin with my thumb as I gaze into her eyes. "I am so fucking sorry, Ryan." My voice is just barely above a whisper.
She gives me a small smile and reaches up with her hand to place over mine. However, she doesn’t lean into my touch like she used to, which worries me. I rack my brain for something to say, but whatdoyou say after being told this?
"I still think we need to talk. We need to tell each other what we went through, so I don’t fuck up again—"
"I just need some time, Beau." She cuts off my words, but it feels like she’s cutting through my heart.
"Yeah, okay."
Before I leave her, I pull her in and kiss her lips. There is no force to make it into a deeper kiss, but I don’t remove my lips immediately, either. I want to feel hers for as long as possible. When I break away, it’s with remorse, and I press my forehead to hers.
"Please remember I love you with everything I’ve got, baby. We have a long road ahead, but I’m not ready to stop fighting for us. I hope you don’t stop, either." With one last kiss on her forehead, I walk away.
The sun is shining right through my window and into my eyes. Groaning, I stretch and feel the kink in my neck from sleeping in a sitting position in my truck. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the empty house—not without Ryan. Home is wherever she is, and if that means I have to sleep outside in my truck, so be it.
I jump when there is a sharp knock on the window and see a disturbed-looking Ryan standing just outside. God, she looks so hot when she looks at me the way she is right now. With her arms crossed in front of her chest and the irritated look on her face making her look adorable, my cock begins to stir.
Pushing my door open, I sit back with my head against the headrest and wait for her to start yelling at me. Only she doesn’t. In a calm voice, she asks me what I’m doing here. "You can’t be sleeping in your truck outside a shelter house for trafficked and abused women. Do you realize how scary this looks to them?"
