Page 58 of Milked

“Ryder! Let me in.”

There wasn’t a peep out of him or movement on the other side.

“We’ve been trying all day. He hasn’t come out once in the past six hours or so. Not to eat, shower… nothing,” Atlas explained. “While he’s locked in there now, his mood has drastically changed over the past couple of days.”

I swallowed, filled with a surge of guilt that Father and I had done something wrong. Ryder had been entirely on board, but things clearly had changed. Regardless, we neeed to talk about it and fix things. “Are you sure he’s even in there?”

He nodded. “Yes, we saw him use the bathroom earlier and head back into his room, completely ignoring us. He… didn’t look so good. We’ve been trying to get him out and talk to us, but he won’t make a peep. But we also don’t want to be intrusive.”

“Be fucking intrusive if he’s being unresponsive!” I snapped.

I grabbed the doorknob, rattled the door, and pounded on it. “Ryder! Open the goddamn door this instant!”

My stomach clenched into a knot, and a lump formed in my throat. Fuck, what if he was so bad off that he… No. I refused to think about that possibility.

“I’ll pay for the damage,” I said.

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “W-what? Wait!”

I stood back and kicked the door open. The flimsy, hollow door practically crumbled. I rushed in to find Ryder in bed, facing the wall. He was so unresponsive he didn’t even fucking flinch at the noise.

“Leave me,” I said, and I slowly walked around his bed to face him. His roommates ignored me as they clustered around the doorjamb. I squatted in front of him, his head covered by blankets. I squatted, grabbed the edge of his covers, and pulled them back. He didn’t even try to stop me.

My breathing heaved as my heart beat heavily against my chest, terrified about what I’d find underneath.

What I found wasn’t a dead Ryder but one who looked at me with red, swollen hazel eyes, tears dripping down to his sopping pillow.

“Oh, Rye-baby… What’s happened?” My own eyes watered at the sight and his pain. I knew loss when I saw it. That was fucking grief all over Ryder’s face.

I looked up at his roommates. “Please leave us. I’ll take care of our boy.”

They nodded. The two women left as Atlas tried to readjust the door for more privacy.

I ran my fingers through his damp and greasy hair. “How long have you been like this, sweetheart?”

“I-I can’t breathe.”

His eyes shed fresh tears as his lips trembled.

“Who did you lose?”

His eyes closed, and he curled into himself, shaking. I needed to text Father, but Ryder was my priority. I stood and quickly undressed down to my underwear, leaving my clothes in a pile. Then I climbed into his bed, on the other side, and pulled his back against my chest, pressing kisses to his neck and shoulder. I slid my arm underneath his and rested the palm of my hand on his rapidly beating heart.

A sense of love for this man overcame me. My feelings for Ryder had grown, but now they just overfilled and spilled. I wanted him not only to be mine, butours. He belonged with Father and me.

When we started this, we had no idea we would need Ryder as much as he needed us. It was strange how quickly he fit in, like we had no idea a puzzle piece was missing until he came into our lives.

“Talk to me.”

“I-I can’t… it hurts too much.”

“Did they die today?”

“Yesterday… Last night,” he whispered. “A year ago.”

He sobbed for a while longer, and then he calmed down a bit. When I leaned over to check on him, I found he’d fallen asleep.

I eased out of bed, careful not to wake him, then found my phone on the floor, next to my pants. When I opened it, I found several texts from Father, demanding to know what was happening.

---