Page 46 of Ryder

I struggle to concentrate on any of the conversation because my mind is consumed with food. I’m so hungry and the divine smells are making it impossible to think of anything else. A waitress places a bowl in front of me and I almost whoop for joy.

“Thank you,” I say politely.

I polish off the soup before everyone else at the table, not having the energy to be worried how that makes me look. The next course is steak and salad, and it goes just as quickly as the soup. The chief shoots me a quizzical look on more than one occasion, but I simply smile. Once I’m finished, I lay my white cloth napkin over the steak knife and tune in to their conversation, waiting for them all to be occupied before sliding it onto my lap and then dropping it into my clutch on the floor.

We say our goodbyes after coffee and cheese. I managed a few more mouthfuls but had to give up when my stomach aches in protest. Sickness bubbles away inside as I slide into the waiting car, itching for my bed so I can slip into a food coma.

Finn slides in beside me and pushes the button to raise the divide between us and the driver.

“Well done. I’ll perhaps let Harlee see you for two minutes tomorrow.”

I frown, sitting up straighter. “Tomorrow? But you said tonight.”

“It’s extremely late. Harlee will be asleep.”

My heart squeezes with disappointment. “Please, let me just look at her. I won’t wake her.”

“Don’t be a drama queen, Neve. I prefer you as a fighter.” He pauses before adding, “Besides, it depends how well you perform when we get home.”

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m going to send lover boy a video, I’m sure he’s missing you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s not looking so leave him be.”

Finn laughs, “He’s going to cause me problems and I’d rather know when that’s going to happen. All this waiting around is boring.”

I slip my hand into the clutch bag and grip the knife handle. “You’ll want me to fight?”

He smirks. “Of course. I want him to hear you begging for your life, princess. Let’s spring him into action.”

“I’d rather die,” I say coldly and he glances at me. “I won’t fight on camera or any other time,” I spit.

He arches a brow, “Is that right. Let’s see.” He grabs my dress, yanking it hard enough to rip up the centre.

I kick out and he laughs, “You can’t help it. It’s instinct to survive.”

“It’s instinct to keep you the fuck away from me,” I yell as he pulls my legs apart and kneels between them.

“Baby, why are you pretending you don’t want this as much as me? We fight, we fuck, it’s what we like.”

“It’s what you like,” I hiss, kicking out again. “I’ve never enjoyed a second in the bedroom with you.”

He runs his hands up my thighs, lowering his head to my stomach and licking the skin there. “I’m going to fuck you like you deserve,” he growls, gripping my ankle and lifting my leg over his shoulder. “Hard, fast and painful.”

I laugh and it throws him off guard, he raises his head right as I pull my hand from my clutch and raise the knife. I slam it into his shoulder and he cries out in pain. I withdraw it and try again, this time missing as he shuffles back from me. I lean forward, slashing around until I make contact, not caring where I hit, as long as I do. “You asked for a fight,” I scream, “So fucking fight me.” He tries to grab my wrists but I’m too frantic in my movement.

He pushes up onto his knees and lays over me, eventually pinning my arms to my sides. He headbutts me hard and I feel my nose spray out. “Drop it,” he hisses, squeezing my wrist tightly until I release the blade. He grabs it, and falls back onto the seat, gripping his shoulder.

“Die,” I whisper desperately as his breaths come out loud and rattling. “Please just fucking die.” His eyes reach mine and I smirk. “that’ll be the only time you hear me beg,” I spit.

The car stops and the door is pulled open. The driver stares back and forth between us, taking in Finn’s blood-stained shirt and my ripped dress. He reaches into the car, grabbing my arm and dragging me out. I land on my knees, trying desperately to scramble to my feet. He pulls me up the steps and the big man comes into view. I begin to back away, shaking my head in panic. “No,” I whisper, “no, no, no.” He grabs me as the driver tells him that the ‘boss’ is hurt.

The door to the cellar is opened and I’m thrown in like a rag doll. Rolling down the stairs until I land in a heap at the bottom. He slams the door and locks it.

Malia rushes over and I wince as she tries to help me sit. I shake my head, choosing to crawl over to my mattress because walking is too painful. I’m dizzy from the blow to my face and every limb aches. As I drag myself over the cold floor, I heave, spilling the contents of dinner onto the concrete. I sob, angry that I’ve lost the fullness from my stomach.

As I lay on my mattress, I notice the other is now occupied. Malia goes to her and lies behind her, stroking her hair just like I’d done to her. I smile to myself, closing my eyes and letting the darkness take me.

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