Page 27 of Broken

I soak there in the bath for what feels like ages. My skin begins to look wrinkled, the bubbles have all evaporated, and the water is turning chilly. So, I know that it’s time to get out. After wrapping myself in the fluffy towel Ryder left out, I stare at the clothes he brought me. I know he was trying to say that after what happened, I might not want to wear his clothes and he would be right. But my only other option is the clothes that arsehole Grant picked out for me, so I go with the lesser of two evils and put on Ryder’s clothes. This is the argument I tell myself, but as I pull the clothes on and feel my body being enveloped by every scent that is Ryder’s, my heart skips a beat, telling me that maybe there’s another reason I chose his clothes.

Trying to put all of my confusing thoughts about Ryder out of my head, I walk back into the bedroom after brushing my teeth and hair. I wouldn’t say I feel back together, but at least I look presentable. All plans of not thinking about Ryder go out of the window when I walk back into the bedroom to see him lying on his back on the bed. His arms are folded behind his head, acting as a cushion and that act has caused his t-shirt to ride up, exposing a small patch of skin. It just so happens to be my favourite patch, as it contains the gorgeous V shaped muscles and that little happy trail of hair, which leads to something amazing. The rest of him is all tight, lean muscles and just general perfection. No matter how hard I try, I can’t deny I’m so fucking attracted to this man, it’s unreal. But that’s never been the problem. The problem is that the man inside the very pretty package is a fucking enigma. The man I met and shared a beautiful night with was fierce, caring, and protective. I got the feeling that although he didn’t trust or care for people easily, if he did, then he would burn the world for them. Then there’s the Ryder I see when he is with Grant. The cold, merciless, obedient, little lap dog who follows Grant’s orders and seems perfectly content in his job. I just don’t understand why this job means so much to him. The guy I spent the night with doesn’t belong working for a crime family, so why is he?

My thoughts are broken when Ryder abruptly sits up on the bed. He looks at me with a small smile when he sees I’m drowning in his t-shirt and I have had to tie a knot in his shorts just to get them to stay up. There's a moment of awkward silence as we both stare at each other before Ryder breaks it by pointing to the vast array of foods that are on the table. There are fruits, cereals, pancakes, toast, even some fried food, like sausages and bacon. There is so much food, no way will we both be able to eat all of these. As I think that, my belly starts to rumble and I let out a small giggle. Obviously, I am hungry.

“Shall we eat?” Ryder says and I nod in confirmation as we both take our seats at the table. We eat in comfortable silence, not feeling the need to say anything. I expected our silence to be weird and awkward like earlier, but it’s not and rather than dwelling on that, I tuck into some more food. Just as I am getting ready to demolish my third pancake with bacon and sausage, not to mention all the other bits I have picked at, Ryder finally speaks.

“I love a girl with a hearty appetite and you look like you are definitely enjoying the food. I’m glad to see it hasn’t put you off your food.” I can tell he is nervous breaking the silence and that as he is speaking, it finally dawns on him what he actually said.

“What, so normally after a girl is abused they don’t like to eat? It's good to know that me eating is an obvious sign that what that bastard did to me last night didn’t really bother me,” I spit back in disgust and see his face fall.

“Ava, look, I erm… I want to say that I’m-”

“No, Ryder, don’t. I don’t want to hear it. There is nothing you can say, no apology you can give that can erase last night. Out of everything that happened, the thing that hurt me the most was you. You just stood there and let it happen. You looked into my eyes and did nothing as I fell apart. Grant may have been the one who abused me, but you are the one who hurt me. Why didn’t you help me? Why didn’t you save me?” I cry out to Ryder, desperate for the answers that have plagued me. I feel my eyes begin to fill with tears, but I push them back. I can’t show weakness during this. I need the truth.

“Ava, I’m so sorry. You know I had no choice, if I would have stepped in and stopped things, Grant would have known about us and we would have been in great danger. I have been covering our tracks with the security cameras to protect us. Plus, this is my job and I cannot afford to lose it. I have a goal that I am so close to reaching and I can’t jeopardise that. It’s important. But you have to know that every second I was inside that room, it felt like my skin was crawling. I felt like a ball of pent up energy and I was desperate to release it and to help you, but I couldn’t. So, I stood there, trying not to listen to the sounds of your pain.”

“So, you chose your job and then for good measure, you looked into my eyes as I begged for that monster to make me cum. Wow, you are not the man I thought you were at all. The man I spent the night with was kind and beautiful, I had more feelings for him than I should have after just one night, but I felt like I was drawn to him. My body called to him and I thought he answered. I had visions of him saving me and us going off to a better life, finding out if the feelings actually mean anything. If away from this bullshit, did we actually stand a chance at a life together? But then I realised, he didn’t exist because you were selfish and spineless, caring only about you and your career.” I don’t know why I am telling him all this, why I am confessing the feeling I had, well I do still have some of them, but he doesn’t need to know that. They will go away soon enough, hopefully. I can see my words have affected him because his shoulders are sagged and his face appears cracked, he looks so sad. He even seems like his eyes are misting over and he is trying to hold them back.

“You have feelings for me?” he whispers. Out of everything I said, I should have known that would be the part he caught.

“Had, dickead. You ruined it. You give me whiplash, it’s like there's two of you and one I hate. I can’t cope. Please, just go.” My voice breaks at the end because throwing Ryder out doesn’t feel like the right thing to do, but being near him right now doesn’t either. All it does is remind me I don’t know who he is. His eyes are downcast and I can see he looks broken, but I don't know what else to do. He gives me a half smile and turns to leave. Before he reaches the door, without turning to look at me, I hear him speak faintly.

“I wish I could make you understand. I really like you, Ava, and I’m sorry.” His words gut me as the door to the room closes behind him, I suddenly feel very empty.

I spendthe day lounging around in the room I refuse to think of as mine. I don’t bother venturing out because I know it leads to Ryder’s room before I can get anywhere else and I can’t face that. So, I alternate between sleeping, showering to try and feel less sleazy, and relaxing in the jacuzzi bath as that really helps with my tense muscles. There’s barely any visible marks on my back or arse that indicate last night even happened, but there is no explaining away the giant black eye or the split lip. Those will fade with time. It’s not the physical wounds I worry about, it's the mental ones. The hatred, and if I’m being honest, the fear I feel for Grant has gone through the roof. I am constantly on edge, waiting for him to come back and start an argument with me so he can punish me because that’s exactly how it feels. For some reason, he doesn’t just inflict pain in a cruel way, he has to have some justification, which for a supposed psychopath, I find very bizarre. I also think he is a lot more clever than anyone has ever given him credit for because he has a plan for me and nobody seems to know what that is; not his expert risk analysis manager who should be able to see every possible scenario, or his crime boss father who says Grant isn’t capable of organising a piss-up in a brewery, yet here we are. He was able to bring me here, he planned it all and not only did nobody know what he was doing, nobody knows why he is doing it. So, to me, that makes him really fucking dangerous.

I feel on edge all day, waiting to get summoned to another meeting with Grant but it doesn’t happen. I know Ryder said he was gone, but I thought that was too good to be true. The more time that passes does nothing but worsen my frying nerves. So, when there is a knock on the door, I yelp out a terrified sounding hello, making it obvious who I thought was at the door and that I was scared.

“It’s me,Ryder. I just came to reassure you he won't be back tonight. I thought you would wanna know. Also, I’m having some beer and pizza in the movie room next door. You are welcome to come and join me,” he asks hopefully. How could he know how on edge I am about Grant and that just hearing he is gone for the night could relax me enough to get some semblance of sleep? I want to throw my arms around him in thanks, but instead, I sit there, not quite knowing what to do.

After a while, I hear Ryder stalk off to the cinema room next door, his personal space. He told me the other night about how he has pretty much stolen it from Grant and everyone knows it's his sanctuary. It’s where he comes to unwind and now he has opened up to let me in too. It takes me a good half an hour before I get up to go. If anyone asks, it is the draw of delicious pizza that pulls me, not the delicious man.

I walk into the giant cinema style living room and I’m in awe. The screen looks exactly like in a cinema, but there’s two and three seater sofas thrown in amongst the arms chairs. Ryder is relaxing on one of the large sofas with a giant pizza box in the middle. He is chowing down on the pizza without even looking at it because his eyes are firmly glued to the screen in front of him. When it dawns on me what movie he’s watching, I can't help but smile. The idea that this tough, gorgeous man is engrossed in a film like 10 Things I Hate About You, is absolutely hilarious and so endearing. But it’s the laughing that wins out and my chuckles from the doorway give away my position. The look he gives me sends ripples down to my core. He always manages to look at me with sheer heat.

“What are you laughing at, little vixen?” he asks with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“A chick flick? Really?” I ask in mock exaggeration and he just laughs.

“Now you know my secret. I have an obsessive love of chick flicks and this is one of the best.” He speaks with such a straight face, I can’t tell if he is lying or not. I can’t help the full smile that spreads across my face, reaching my eyes.

“Really?”

“Hell yes. Guys can like chick flicks too. Now sit down and eat some pizza or you will miss all the good bits.” I laugh, but I do as I’m told, feeling as though I am walking into an alternative reality. I tell myself I chose to sit on the same sofa as Ryder because it was closest to the pizza. Honestly. That's when I first get a look at him. He is wearing relaxed, baggy grey sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that shows off every bit of definition. His relaxed position has caused the shirt to ride up, exposing his curved hips and the defined V shape that leads to heaven. Sitting there, he looks like he belongs in a male fitness model shoot and he looks good enough to eat. Forget the fucking pizza, I want him, but we can’t. That thought hits me like a tonne of bricks, bringing me back to this moment. I decide not to focus on the bad side of things just for one night and instead, I lounge around with Ryder, eating junk food, talking crap, and watching his favourite chick flicks. It’s the perfect night and that’s the excuse I give for why I allow myself to fall asleep, curled up with my head on Ryder’s lap and his arm tucked securely around my body.

Some time later, I feel my weightless body being lifted and carried, I know by the scent and protectiveness I feel surrounding me, it’s still Ryder. He is carrying me to bed and I really hope it’s his, but when I open my eyes slightly and recognise the familiar decor, I know we are in my room. He puts me in the bed and tucks me in tightly, it's such a sweet gesture and so like Ryder from the other night. A tired smile creeps across my lips. “Stay with me, Ryder, please,” I say, as I tuck up further into the covers trying to get comfortable. He doesn’t respond initially and I listen intently for sounds that he is moving to get into his side of the bed, but none come. Instead, I feel a featherlight kiss on my forehead. There's nothing sexy about it, but the heat from that light touch explodes all over my body, heating me up.

“I’m sorry,” Ryder whispers into my ear. Even in my exhausted state, I know what that means. He is saying no to me again and it hurts.

“You are always saying that to me.” I don’t wait for him to answer, instead I fall back into the most blissful, undisturbed, and peaceful sleep I’ve had in a long time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Grant

Walking into the same old familiar shit hole makes my stomach crawl. I’m parked in a part of town where I'm pretty sure, if it wasn’t for the fact I left Vic out there with his gun, we would come back to find our car missing, or at best, just the tires. This is one of the worst areas in the city and as I walk up to the fifteenth floor of the high rise, because the lift is fucking broke again, I feel that tell tale shiver of disgust.

The further up I go, the more depravity I discover. I pass a whore blowing a John in the corridor while her pimp looks on, I pass needles on the floor that hold God knows how many diseases, and I pass children as young as ten smoking and swearing, pretending like they are gangsters. Even though this area is gang territory and belongs to the 49er’s, I know they are only pretending and aren’t really a part of the gang. I’m not worried about being seen in gang territory because the Blakeman family are not a gang, we do not need to squabble over territories because it is all ours. Every area the gangs fight over belongs to us. Every drug they sell in their territory was bought from us. Every gun they shoot and every hooker they sell, they all came from us. That’s how I know the children are pretending to be gangsters. We have a no under the age of fourteen rule and everyone sticks to it. We all know that living in this area doesn’t give them many life options and the gang life is where they will end up, but at least our way gives them a chance. I expect no trouble while I’m here, but it’s always best to be prepared.

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