Page 31 of Ryder's War

She’d grown up in a very average, middle-class family. Her father, a slight bespectacled man, made his living working for a local library. He’d taught her to love reading, and that beauty came from inside. He’d married his childhood sweetheart, and they’d stayed happily married. Her mother was more like a best friend, and the woman’s words of wisdom came back to guide her time and time again.Never judge a book by its cover.Her mother’s favorite saying had served her well in life.

Tiffany found herself sitting outside her childhood home, stroking Rupert the Magnificent. Tiffany could almost feel the tiny, soft cat hairs sifting through her fingers as he gazed up at her.

A soft smattering of rain began falling, and she shifted restlessly in her sleep. She didn’t like dreaming of rain. It reminded her of the day she met Stuart Chamberlain the Third. Her car had broken down, and he’d stopped to lend a hand. He’d been so sweet, charming, and helpful. Insisting on giving her a ride home, he’d made arrangements forher vehicle to be towed. Little did she know, all that charm was part of a carefully crafted persona, designed specifically to cover the malignant narcissist hiding beneath.

Some predators wore suits instead of cuts, wielded bank accounts instead of guns. But damage was damage, no matter how expensive the wrapping.

In her dream world, the rain picked up. Rupert disappeared, leaving behind only a bundle of rags. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she froze. Not daring to look at the bundle beside her, Tiffany knew what was swaddled inside. Instead, her blue eyes began carefully scanning the shadows for what she knew was near. Every movement notched up the queasy feeling churning in her gut.

Stuart’s face jumped forward out of the darkness, sneering derisively at her. “Run, run, run, little gingerbread girl. Run as fast as you can.”

Jumping back in the swing, she blinked, and he was gone again. Jerking her head from one side to the other, she tried to find him. “Leave me the hell alone. I’m not yours anymore.”

A menacing voice spat out the words to the ancient folktale, morphing them to fit their fight. His hollow, soulless voice seemed to be coming from every direction at once.

“You can run from your husband and hide out of spite. You can stray from my bed and race through the night. Beware, my little sweet gingerbread girl, Stuart will catch you and make you his again under the pale moonlight.”

Covering her ears with her hands, Tiffany tried to shut out the cruel taunting. Memories of him taking her floated through her head. She could feel his strong, sinewy body pinning her to the ground, his nasty breath on her face, and the pain of his rough thrusts into her dry body. She couldn’t do that again. She just couldn’t.

Rocking back and forth, she mumbled over and over, “I’ll run as fast as I can. You’ll never catch me. I’m the gingerbread girl.”

Huge hands landed on her shoulders. Jumping forward, Tiffany tried to jerk free. Strong arms slid around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.

A deep voice ground out words she barely understood. “Calm the fuck down, baby. It’s me, Ryder.”

Her eyes popped open, and she froze. Ryder had her down on the soft carpet, and several brothers were standing in the doorway gaping at their naked bodies. Tiffany realized her hair was stringing into her eyes, and she was sweating profusely. Feeling herself flush withembarrassment, she made an effort to obscure her body from their view.

Ryder turned her face to his, concern etched onto every square inch of his face. “Are you all right, sweetness?”

“I had a nightmare,” she croaked. Her throat was dry. She didn’t know how that could be since she just went to sleep. A few feet away, the windows were beginning to brighten, and a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told her it was a little past five in the morning.

Standing, Ryder brought her up into his arms and strolled toward his small bathroom. She heard the door to his room shut a moment before he kicked the bathroom door closed. He sat her on the counter and began a shower without a work spoken between them.

Feeling all kinds of humiliated, she stammered, “Look, I’m really sorry about embarrassing you. I hope I didn’t hit you or anything.” Ryder turned to face her, and she saw what she’d done. Swallowing thickly, she shook her head. “God, I’m so sorry.” Rubbing her temple, she whispered, “I had a nightmare about Stuart.”

Leaning over, Ryder wrapped her in his arms. “Fuck Stuart Chamberlain the Third. If he evershows his face around here, he won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Tightening her grip on his waist, Tiffany asked, “How did you know his name? I never said.”

Pulling back slightly, he gently lifted her chin with two fingers. “I knew your name. That’s all I needed to track him down. Don’t you worry about that kind of shit anymore.”

He’d checked up on her? Tracked her ex down and everything? But, of course, he did. What had she expected from a man like Ryder who had a firm grip on every aspect of his life? And now that she was a part of that life, it only made sense that that control would extend to hers too. Still, Tiffany didn’t know how to respond.

Seeing the angry red scratches on his face from her own hands made her feel like hell all over again. “I’m sorry I clawed your neck and face up.”

She didn’t know if the look he shot her was irritation with her or himself. “Fucking hell, give me a little credit. Your pretty fingernails ain’t gonna do real damage to a badass biker like me. Now, what’s all that shit about being a gingerbread girl?”

Scrubbing her hands over her face, Tiffany tried to order her thoughts. “I was married forclose to five years. I tried to leave more times than I can count. The first time was Christmas Eve, two months after we were married,” she revealed, the ugly truth pouring out of her. “It didn’t take me long to realize what a horrible mistake I’d made.

“Stuart wanted a wife that looked good on his arm in public and one he could use as a punching bag at home. I ended up going back to stay at my parents’ house. Then Stuart started sending me expensive gifts, and then a card with a gingerbread girl on the front.”

Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I know it sounds childish, but he wrote a note on the inside taunting me. He said no matter how fast or far I run, he’ll track me down and drag me back. Each time I ran, the abuse escalated when he got me back.”

Ryder’s expression was murderous. “Not anymore. You’re with me now. I know just how to handle rich assholes like the Chamberlains.”

She chose to ignore that statement. “I don’t know what triggered the dream. I haven’t had one that bad in a long time.”

Ryder’s eyes got glassy with what could only be tears. “It was me being on top of you the way I was tonight. I wasn’t thinking about how youmight react to…to… It was a poor decision on my part.”

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