Page 63 of Shared on the Ranch

She felt the bed shift with Chandler’s weight on one side.

“Chy?” Aaron asked at the same time, and out of the corner of her eye she could see him leaning on the other side.

No. They’ll trap me here, they’ll make me tell them… I can’t.

Even as the desperate thought crossed her mind, she had to acknowledge there was a part of her thatwantedto tell them. To come clean and unload the burden she’d been carrying. She knew they’d take it without question, and could even carry it easily between them.

And it was that part of her, the part that was willing to give in, that she hated the most.

Almost before she knew what she was going to do, she was bouncing up and swiftly off the bed.

“Chyanne? Where are you going?”

“What the fuck is happening?” Aaron asked, bewildered.

“Hell if I know,” Chandler replied.

Then they were following her, but not at a run, and she was pacing the kitchen by the time they got to her.

“Chy—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, spearing Aaron with a glare. “It’s not my name! Neither is ‘honey’ or ‘darlin’.’” She threw her dagger-filled gaze at Chandler, so he wouldn’t feel left out. “It’s not ‘red’ or ‘little girl.’ It’s Chyanne.JustChyanne.” Her diatribe finished—at least for the moment—she resumed her trek around the small kitchen.

“Okay.” Chandler was the first to respond, and his voice was level and soft.

Chyanne didn’t know whether to resent his even keel, or respect it. Right now, all she wanted was to pull her hair out.

“Did something happen?”

Her nostrils were flaring by the time she looked at Aaron. “Obviously.”

He lifted a dark brow, but otherwise didn’t comment on her sarcasm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she shot out, already feeling the tears building once more. She turned away and began to pace again to prevent them from seeing. When her tears finally emerged—and they would, no matter how much she tried to stop them, the dam would burst—they would be a flood.

She couldn’t handle that right now. She couldn’t handle them seeing her like that. She’d done it before, sure, but this… this was different. She’d never felt so small, so vulnerable, and she just couldn’t face it.

“We want to help you,” Chandler tried again. “But if we don’t know how—”

She whirled on her heel, facing them once more. “You don’t!” she screamed, hands balled into fists at her sides. “You don’t want tohelpme! You want… you want to hurt me!” Her eyes roved wildly side to side and she caught sight of something unfamiliar in Aaron’s hand. As her eyes focused on the item, she gasped and backed away, glaring at him pointedly. “See?”

Aaron followed her eyes and nodded, ignoring her flinch as he moved to the counter and set it down. “Better?”

Having a thing to focus all her pent-up rage on, Chyanne raced toward it. In the back of her mind, she half-expected him to stop her, to pick it back up, but he didn’t. He watched as she picked it up, crying out in victory when her hand closed around the handle.

Then, just like she had in her first hour on Discipline Ranch, she swung it for the wall. It didn’t break. It didn’t so much as splinter. All she’d done was give herself a headache from the sound.

But somehow the motion had unlocked something within her, and even as she dropped the paddle, she felt the rage bubble to the surface.

“Go ahead!” she screamed at the two of them. “Punish me! I know you want to! Spank me, or tie me up, and—”

“Chyanne—”

She pivoted away from Chandler’s reassuring hand. She didn’t even know what she was doing, she didn’t have a plan, but she found her way to the kitchen. Her eyes roved the room angrily and landed on the counter. There was a package of chicken breasts thawing and a bag of rice next to it.

“Chyanne, let’s talk about this,” Chandler said.

But she minced toward the rice and ignored him. She didn’twantto talk. Didn’t they get that already? She was pissed, and all she wanted was to feel better. She snatched up the bag of rice and yanked off the bag clip. She threw it to the floor, feeling strangely vindicated when it clattered.

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