Page 120 of Mad As Hell

I frowned. “Ryan.”

He shifted forward in the seat and reached behind his back. When his hand appeared a second later, it was holding a gun.

My heart stopped, my gaze flying to his. “Where did that come from?”

He set the gun on the dash. “My bedroom. If he’d touched you again, I would’ve shot him. Fuck, I probably should have anyway. The woman they were talking about? That was your mom, wasn’t it?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes.”

His eyes slid shut as he grimaced. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I’m so sorry that you had to hear that.”

His apology, and the agony in his voice, ripped through the last of my defenses. My face crumpled as I fell apart, sobs wracking my body. A bell chimed overhead as Ryan shoved open his door. He was ripping my door open and unbuckling my seatbelt before I realized what was going on.

Lifting me effortlessly into his arms, his hands slid under my ass as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. His steps never faltered as he carried me across the sand and grass toward the house. I buried my face against his neck as I cried, too exhausted and overwhelmed to keep pretending everything would be okay.

I was insanely out of my league, and I had no idea how to pull the emergency brake of the crazy train I was on.

Ryan shifted my weight to one arm and used his free hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a set of keys. A second later, he slipped a key into the lock of the front door, and it opened easily.

A loud beeping sound blared from a keypad to the right, and he punched in a code to make it shut up. Then he kicked the door closed and walked us deeper into the house.

I finally lifted my head when he settled us onto a large chair, me straddling his lap as he kept me close.

Sniffling, I looked around at the dove gray walls with white trim. The furniture was functional and comfortable. An overstuffed sectional was a darker shade of gray that picked up some of the darker grains in the wood floor. We were sitting on a matching loveseat, and two black leather recliners filled out the rest of the space with a glass and white wood coffee table in the center. Large windows showed the beach outside, and I spotted a kitchen toward the back of the room.

“What is this place?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Ryan’s lips twitched. “My house.”

My brows shot up. “You have a house?”

He nodded slowly, his expression guarded. “Yeah. Built it a few years ago after I bought the land. I wanted a place where I could remember my mom and get away.”

I was still stuck on him owning a house. “A few years ago? You’re only twenty-one.”

A soft, breathy laugh escaped him. “That’s what you’re focused on?”

“Most teenagers don’t buy a house, let alone build one. Especially when they have a freaking estate,” I pointed out.

His gaze sharpened. “That place is my father’s, Mads. It sure as hell isn’t my home.”

“Okay. So is this your home?”

He glanced around. “I don’t know. Maybe one day.”

I wiped under my eyes, thankful I’d gone with a waterproof mascara that seemed to be living up to its name. “Ryan—”

“You need to go, Maddie,” he cut me off in a gentle tone.

I paused and stared at him in confusion.

His knuckles dragged up the length of my spine as he pressed his lips together. “You can stay here until we figure out how to get you away.”

“You want me to leave?” There was no disguising the hurt I was feeling.

“Fuck no. I want you to stay, but what happened back there? Maddie, I don’t know that I can protect you. Madelaine was a bitch for setting you up to live her life. You had no idea what you signed up for, and I think it’s time you cut your losses.” He shook his head sadly. “I love you too much to keep putting you in a position where you’re going to get hurt over and over. And that’s exactly what our fathers will do.”

He lifted his hands to my face and pushed my hair back. “You need to leave, baby. Maybe one day, when all this shit is over, I can find you and…” He let the unspoken idea hang between us.

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