Page 52 of Healing Souls

“Tell me something,” he murmurs against the top of my head.

My heart pounds in my chest. “Tell you what?”

Ryker sighs and tightens his arms around me. His one hand is still rubbing me, his warm, smooth fingers making goosebumps rise all over my skin. “Just anything. Tell me something. I want to ask—” I tense in his arms, my one arm that I slowly moved over his chest clenching onto his shirt. “-—but I won’t. Not yet. But tell me just one thing. Let me prove to you that you can trust me.”

My mouth starts before I can even think about why this is a terrible idea.

“My mom was murdered, and I was there when it happened. I saw things I wish I could erase from my mind. Afterwards, I was in the hospital for a while. Then I met Moth–Tammy. Who I was told was my mom’s sister. I moved in with them and—”

Nothing else seems to come out. It feels like my throat is closing off as I think back to everything.

Will this ever get easier?

“They kept you in the basement.”

It’s a statement, not a question. Heknows. He isn’t asking. My hand unclenches from his shirt, and I rest my open palm on his chest. I want to feel his skin like he is feeling mine, but I’m scared and don’t think it’s a good idea.

“Three years,” is all I respond with. I don’t know what else to say or how to dive into what happened.

How do you tell someone all of that?‘Hey, by the way, I was not only locked in a basement for three years, but I was also beaten and humiliated and starved. They would mock and laugh at me, make me watch them eat, and then clean up after them. I was left with almost nothing…

How do you possibly tell someone that?

You don’t.

“Did–did Richard ever…” Ryker hesitates and doesn’t speak for a minute before he continues, “Did he ever touch you? Or do things to you?”

His voice is strained, and his hand keeps moving up and down my back like he is doing it for himself and not for me.

Memories of all the weird moments with Richard flash through my mind, the hands on my legs, the leering looks, the odd comments… but yet he never touched me in the way that I know Ryker means. “No. He never did.”

Ryker blows out a breath and gently kisses the top of my head. “Why don’t you try to sleep?”

I nod against his chest and slowly let my eyes fall closed. Relaxing my body, I find I melt right into his arms. Before I know it, I am sound asleep.

I blink my eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light filtering in through the curtains. The sun is shining straight through, casting a glow over the bed. I rarely ever stay asleep long enough for the sun to rise. Almost always, I wake up from nightmares when it’s still dark outside and can’t fall back asleep.

As I adjust, I realize that the weight on my chest isn’t because of anxiety, it’s warm and comforting. Another body beside mine.

My hand moves from where it rests on Ryker’s head, and I gently run my fingers through his hair. Somehow throughout the night, we ended up with me on my back and Ryker lying almost on top of me with his head resting on my chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

I find myself smiling softly at how he is holding onto me like I may run away at any second. But the longer I lay here, the more I realize I don’t want to leave this. Something about it feels right.

But at the same time, that thought terrifies me. It is daunting and dangerous.

I still have a goal. I want to hurt those who hurt my mom. Gabriel was the only name on the list. There are more, and I will find them.

I may be willing to hear Gabriel out, figure out my place in his life, and decide how I feel about everything, but that doesn’t mean anyone else will get that chance. Revenge is still what I need, and I will get it. No matter what it takes.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Ryker's groggy, deep voice startles me out of my thoughts. I glance down to see him resting his chin on my chest, staring at my face.

“You,” I say. My cheeks heat as I realize what I said. It was the first thing that came into my mind because I really don’t want to talk about the other stuff right now.

Ryker lets out a husky chuckle. “Oh, do tell. What about me?” His grin turns wicked as he stares at me.

I can’t help but smile at him. He really is very handsome, even sleepy and with mused hair. His eyes are bright. You can see more of the brown in them up close. His face is soft now, like he is fully relaxed and calm. Not carrying the usual underlying hardness and wariness he seems to hold with him at all times.

“It was just weird waking up with you in the bed,” I mumble.

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