He watched me in the darkness. His gaze drifted down to my bare legs, exposed beneath the shirt I wore. Swearing softly, he glanced away.
“Ryder?” I asked in a whisper. “What’s wrong?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor.
“Ryder?” I asked again, taking a step toward him.
He jerked away, refusing to let me get close. Reaching for the door handle, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes skimmed over me with aloofness.
“Thanks, I needed that.”
For one second, I felt as if my heart had been ripped out. I grasped my jeans to me, turning my knuckles white. Heartache filled me but then it vanished into thin air, replaced by pure, red-hot rage.
Throwing my jeans down, I reached Ryder before he could unlock the bathroom door. Without thinking twice, I shoved him, pushing his wide shoulder.
He whirled around, surprised. “What?” he hissed in a mock whisper.
“How dare you! You can’t talk to me that way!”
“I just did,” he taunted. “I’m just proving I’m not good enough for you. Didn’t you hear them? I’m a ticking time bomb, Maddie. Tick, tock.”
I shoved him again but he didn’t budge. I tried shoving him a third time but he didn’t move.
My pregnancy hormones were playing racket ball with my emotions. I wanted to break down and cry but I also wanted to give Ryder a bloody nose. I couldn’t control myself. Even my words were spontaneous bursts of nonsense.
“Gavin’s right! You’re an asshole!”
The expression on Ryder’s face almost made me want to apologize right away but then his expression hardened.
“Yeah, I am. You should stay away from me,”
With one more look at me, he reached for the door handle again.
I felt both fright at the thought of him walking out and fury that he would do it.
“Okay, I will! LEAVE!” I lashed out, losing all control. “Get the hell away from me!”
“That’s easy because I’m already gone.”
I watched in a haze of heartache as he walked out of the bathroom, not looking back.
The door shut quietly behind him.
Closing the door on us.
Chapter Twenty–Six
I emerged from the bathroom with red-rimmed eyes and a hardened heart. Determined to have it out with him once and for all. Who cares if the pregnancy had my emotions all over the place? He couldn’t talk to me that way!
The hand-cranked flashlight cast a soft glow over the hallway, thanks to the allotted eight minutes of cranking. I focused the light on the floor in front of me, heading for the bedroom. The words that I would say to Ryder replayed in my head; I know you’re hurting. You’ve been through a lot. But you’ve got to let me in.
I was still rehearsing what I was going to say when shouts of frustration interrupted my thoughts. I rushed toward the sounds of arguing. In the living room I found Eva and Brody, facing off like they were about to go a round in a cage fight.
“I hate you!” Eva screamed, pointing at him.
My eyes grew wide, never expecting to hear those words from her.
“Yeah? So what else is new?” Brody yelled. “You’re always freakin’ mad at me!”
“What’s going on, Eva?” I asked, stepping further into the room.
“I’m so sorry, Maddie,” she babbled, her blonde hair swinging gently around her shoulders. “I tried to stop him but Brody let him go. He practically pushed him out the door.”
My heart started hammering, her words not making sense. I was afraid to ask but I had to know.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ryder. He left,” she said, twisting the ends of her hair nervously. “He packed a bag and walked right out the door. I tried stopping him but he was determined to leave.”
Her words slammed into me, knocking all the breath out of my lungs. The blood left my face, pooling in my cold, numb feet.
“Where did he go?” Gavin asked, appearing behind me.
“He wouldn’t say,” Brody answered, letting out a frustrated breath. “He only said to take care of Maddie. From the look on his face, I thought it best to leave him alone.”
“Hell,” Gavin muttered under his breath. “I hope he’s out digging his own grave because I’m gonna kill him.”
Grabbing a shotgun that was leaning against the wall, he headed for the front door. A second later, it slammed shut behind him.
I couldn’t move. My eyes found Eva, my tears making it difficult to see her clearly.
She took a hesitant step toward me. “I’m so sorry, Maddie. He’s a god-awful jerk.”
I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. On stiff legs, I walked out of the room, ignoring Eva. Ignoring the cold that washed over me. Ignoring the hurt in my head, the pounding of blood in my ears. Ignoring everything but the pain.
I stood in the middle of his bedroom, hurt clawing at my insides. When I saw the empty hangers in the closet, I knew it was real. Ryder was gone.
Chapter Twenty–Seven
Four days. Ninety-Six hours. That is the amount of time Ryder stayed gone. Too long.
Each minute led me closer to a sense of loss that I refused to acknowledge. Darkness hovered just around the corner, threatening to sneak up on me and steal what little light I had left. I felt guilty for telling him to leave. I clung to hope that he would return. Not the angry man that left but the best friend I couldn’t live without.
But maybe Ryder and I had been wrong. Maybe best friends weren’t supposed to be in love. He had said in the beginning that it was a mistake. That he never would love anyone. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.
Gavin went looking for him but came back empty-handed. I grew terrified that Ryder was in trouble, returning to town to take his anger out on the men who had tortured him. But Gavin told me not to worry, that Ryder would never leave me. I wasn’t so sure about that.
By the fourth day, I had to get away.
It was close to dusk when I saddled my horse and took off. A few snowflakes were falling, the wind was blowing, and the temperature was dropping, but I had to leave. I hadn’t been to my dad’s grave since the day I found Ryder. I needed to talk to him. I needed to sit at his grave and cry.
Beneath the large oak tree, I slid from the saddle and let the reins fall to the ground. I took a deep breath and looked at the sunset, so beautiful despite the bitter cold. Oranges and reds marked the sky, looking like a painting instead of a simple sky. It always amazed me that something so beautiful could exist when the world had turned into such an ugly place.
Feeling a great sense of sadness, I dropped to my knees at the foot of my dad’s grave. My stomach rumbled painfully, reminding me that I had not eaten since breakfast. Eva and I had split a can of pears but it hadn’t been enough. Dinner would probably be something the men caught or killed. I felt despair at the thought. I wanted a meal not cooked over open flames. A meal that didn’t taste like wood or smoke or wild game. But then I reminded myself that we were lucky. We had shelter and a small amount of food. That was more than most people could say.
Months ago, we exchanged money for a grocery bag of food. A tank of gas. An article of clothing. Those days were gone. People were starving, wasting away until the only thing they could look forward to was death. I heard on the shortwave radio just the other day that if you weren’t hungry and cold, you weren’t living in America.
It was our world now. Our reality.
Sniffing, I wrapped the large coat I wore tighter around me. With a gloved hand I brushed the dead leaves away from my dad’s makeshift wooden headstone. The wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes when the strands caught in my eyelashes. I ignored the wind and huddled deeper into my coat.
“It’s over, Dad.” I whispered, looking down at the frozen ground beneath me. “Me and Ryder. I think it’s truly over. He’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”
Saying the words aloud hurt. I tried so hard not to cry.
I had shed so many tears in the last few months that the last thing I wanted was to ever cry again. But the tears fell anyway, cold and wet on my frozen cheeks. I left them unchecked, refusing to brush them away. They reminded me of what I had lost. What I didn’t have. What I would never have again. I cried for my dad. I cried for my baby, hoping he or she would survive this hard, violent world. I cried for the United States, the war, and all the people lost in it.
I cried for Ryder.
Sitting back on my heels, I placed a hand on my stomach when the baby kicked. That’s when I heard it. The sound of heavy boots crunching on frozen grass behind me. My hopelessness disappeared. I was alone, in the middle of nowhere. I had to pull it together.
My hand slowly reached beneath my coat, wrapping around the cold metal of the pistol I carried. I can do this! I can do this! The words rattled around inside my head, paralyzing me.
Feeling my heart race, I waited until I heard the man stop behind me. Knowing I had to protect myself and my unborn baby, I whipped the gun out from under my jacket and whirled around, aiming at the stranger.
But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Ryder, standing a foot away with a dark expression on his face. The collar of his jacket was turned up, protecting him from the cold and hiding his lower jaw. A ball cap was pulled down low, hiding his eyes and making him look more like a college kid than a man living in a world gone mad. But to me, he had never looked so good before.
I lowered the gun, my hands suddenly shaking.
“What are you doing out here alone?” he asked.
I shrugged, afraid to say anything else. If I opened my mouth, I might yell at him. I might sob and cry. I might make a fool of myself.
“Hell, Maddie, what is Gavin thinking letting you ride off by yourself?” he muttered, looking off into the distance.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. He still thought there was something between me and Gavin? Really?
I sniffed and wiped a stray tear away. His eyes snapped back to me, watching as another tear escaped down my cheek.
My heart was beating a mile a minute, making the simple task of thinking hard to do. I pushed myself to my feet ungracefully, still getting accustomed to my growing middle. Ryder took a step forward, his hand outstretched to help me but then he stopped, dropping his hand away. That damn wall was back up, wiping every emotion from his face.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding?” I asked, ignoring the wind blowing my hair into my eyes.
His gaze ran over me slowly. “Yeah. I needed time,” he answered.
I nodded, hurt filling me. But then I just got angry.
“You needed time? Fine, I’ll give you all the time you want,” I muttered, walking past him. The sleeve of my jacket brushed against his, the friction waking my body up like it always did when we around each other.
I was almost to my horse when he reached out, grabbing my arm.
“There’s only one thing I want, Maddie,” he said, his eyes on me.
“And what is that?” I asked, feeling butterflies flutter around in my stomach, just like his words wrapping around me.
“Come in the house and talk to me,” he answered. “Tell me you’re okay. That the baby’s okay.”
I shook my head. “I can’t go back in there. I haven’t been back in that house since…the men…” My voice wobbled as I glanced at the house.
“They’re just memories, Maddie. I’ve been running from them for the last few days. Hell, I’ve been running from them for years.”
He’s not talking about the torture he went through. He’s talking about me. I’m just a memory now. One that he’s been wanting to run from for years.
“Am I one of those memories?” I asked.
He didn’t say anything. It was all the answer I needed.
I turned to my horse, grabbing the reins. Forcing Ryder’s hand to let go of me.
“That’s it? You’re leaving?” he asked.
I looked back at him, seeing coldness in his eyes that made me flinch. When I didn’t answer, he muttered a few choice words, pulling the brim of his hat down lower.
“Fine. Go back to Gavin. See if I fucking care,” he snarled, turning away. With long strides, he crossed the field, fighting the wind as he headed toward the house.
He didn’t care? Fine! Neither did I!
I gathered the reins in one shaky hand and put my foot in the stirrups. I was about to pull myself into the saddle when the grave caught my eye.
My dad’s words floated back to me from the day he died. Words that I would remember for the rest of my life; ‘Ryder loves you. He told me.’
How many times had my dad said that Ryder would take care of me? That we had a special bond no one could tear apart? He once said that men hid their feelings behind strong muscles and few words, something Ryder did extremely well. He swore Ryder needed me as much as I needed him. My dad believed that until the day he died but I wasn’t sure I did.
As I stood in the middle of the field, the images of the past rushed back. Me and Ryder as kids, playing house in the barn. Swimming in creeks. Riding horses in the summer. Sharing secrets and dreams.
The times I called him crying, saying I hated college and missed home. Listening as he told me I could do it, that I was the smartest person he knew. Telling me how much he missed me but would see me on summer break. The times he made me laugh, forcing me to smile when all I wanted to do was cry. The nights he made me angry, finding him drunk and bruised, broken and at the bottom of a bottle.
Through it all, we stuck together. He never frightened me away. I never grew tried of him. But now, our love was tearing us apart. Taking our friendship and shoving it into the dirt, trying to crush us.
I glanced at the house. Suddenly, I knew - I couldn’t give up on us, even if he wanted to.
Pulling my foot from the stirrup, I left my horse and started across the field. Each step brought me closer to home. Closer to him. Closer to where I belonged.
The wind swirled, whipping the tall brown grass against my jeans. Pulling the hood of my jacket down further, I watched as Ryder threw the door open, letting it slam shut behind him.
I crossed the front yard, the yard where my father had died. The place where he took his last breath and left me. Tears threatened but I pushed them away. I had to do this. I had to be strong.
I put my foot on the bottom step. The rotten wood creaked, threatening to give way under my weight. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at the house. Do it. Just breathe.
I stepped on the next step. Horror seized me in its clawed fists and won’t let go. The memories hit me from all sides.
A man grabbing me. Hurting my cracked rib, making me scream. Another man touching me. Smiling at me with an evil grin.
I took another step, only seeing the past.
Screaming. Being tossed across the room like a rag doll. Landing against the wall with a thud. Pain racing through my body.
Another step.
A knife. Cutting my shirt apart. The feel of it in my hand, grasped tightly. My only source of protection.
Two more steps. I was on the porch now, the door in front of me.
The door the men walked through to get to me.
My hand shook as I reached for the handle. White with chipping paint, this was the door I had passed through most of my life. The door of my home. The door I opened as a child, seeing a boy smiling back at me. The door that would lead me back to him.
I turned the knob. Candlelight flickered, casting a soft glow over the man standing in the middle of the room.
The man I needed more than life itself.
Ryder barging into the room, gun raised, ready to kill whoever was hurting me. Dropping to his knees beside me. Telling me it would be okay. That everything would always be okay.
His eyes moved over me as I took a step into the house. I glanced around the kitchen, the pressure on my chest growing.
“Change your mind?” Ryder asked, his words harsh.
I looked away from the spot where the men had attacked me to where Ryder stood. I opened my mouth to say something but the memories were too powerful. I was drowning in fright. I was paralyzed with fear.
“What? You can’t even talk to me? Well, fine. You can leave,” he said, turning around and walking out of the kitchen. “I don’t need this crap, anyway.”
I watched him leave. He disappeared down the dark hallway, his boots silent on the floor.
As my heart pounded, I looked around the kitchen, seeing my dad’s farm and ranch magazines. I remembered him reading them early in the mornings, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose every few minutes. I could picture him looking over the rims as I walked into the kitchen, pushing them higher up his nose as he smiled at me, his eyes twinkling with admiration.
My eyes moved to the stove, a useless piece of metal now. I could picture my dad standing there, flipping bacon. Glancing over his shoulder as Ryder came ambling into the kitchen, hung-over from the night before. He never questioned why Ryder did the things he did or how he always ended up on our living room couch, sleeping off an all-night bender. He would just hand Ryder a cup of coffee and make him bacon and eggs.
I looked at the counter, the spot where Ryder had been leaning when I told him that I was leaving for college. He had looked angry, upset, frantic, and scared all once. I remember him wrapping his arms around me, whispering that he would miss me.
I remembered it all. Each moment, each second etched forever in my mind.
Tears fell down my face, blurring the room around me. The flickering candle in the middle of the table caught my eye. Its flame chased away shadows, bringing a sense of warmth to the kitchen. Next to it sat a bottle of vodka, most of it gone. And beneath the bottle sat a picture. A picture that had been crumbled up then smoothed out.
A picture of us.
I took a step closer, my heart pounding. With shaky fingers, I reached out and picked up the picture.
It was one of Ryder and me as kids, our arms flung around each other. Smiling. Happy. Together.
Turning the picture over, I saw words, written in silly, girlie handwriting;