Page 79 of Ryder
“Slowly. There’s no rush, okay?”
“I can hold it.”
“Let me help. It’s what they barely pay me for.” He grinned, and somehow I ended up grinning back. Considering his grizzledappearance, the greying hair, and brown beard threaded with yet more grey, the man had just the right bedside manner for someone like me. He wasn’t pandering to me. He wasn’t tiptoeing around me. He was just acting normal, as if anything about this situation was even remotely normal.
“When can I get out of here?” I asked him quietly.
Ryder had returned to us again.
“Uh, that’s not happening.” I moved my hand as he reached for it.
“That’s not your decision.”
He nodded at Doc, who left the room rapidly, closing the door behind him.
“What? What does that mean?”
Ryder swallowed, reaching for my hand again, but I moved it back before he could touch it.
“You’re not going anywhere, Tori. You’re staying with me.”
I realised the pain relief was starting to work, a floaty sense of goodwill starting to wash over me.
“I can’t stay, Ryder. I don’t belong here. I’m not a friend, or anything. I’m the person who forced you into sex, the same way Dom did to me. You don’t really want me here. You want me gone.”
He rested his hands on the bed, leaning closer.
“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide what I fucking want?”
I stared right back. “Then so should I.”
He shook his head. “No. You forced me to feel for you, and now you’re paying the price, darlin’. I’m never letting you go. You’re mine.”
What the fuck.
Ryder
Ithink I justclaimed my old lady. It feels like that’s what I did. I mean, I told her she’s staying, and she’s mine. I don’t care if she argues, or fights me. I’ll lock her in with me if I have to. She’ll soon come around.
I know this is the same meatheaded shit that bastard did to her, but I’ll never force her to be with me, not in that way. I just can’t be without her now.
“I’m nobody’s. I’m mine. I’m me,” she protested weakly, and I shrugged.
“You can say shit like that all you want. You’re staying with me. I’m claiming you as mine. My old lady.”
She cursed. “This is bullshit.”
“No. It is what it is. I think it’s pretty clear my Pres has claimed your little rape buddy, so at least you’ll have a friend here.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nah… not right now, babe, thanks. I’m kinda tired.” She was glaring at me, and honestly, I fucking loved it. It was beautiful, because angry wasn’t scared, or defeated, or sad, or broken. It was fire. It was heat. It was emotion. Did I just have to constantly piss her off, to help her heal? I was perfectly willing to try.
“Can you go away for a while? I want to be alone.”
I sat down in the chair beside her, and made myself comfortable.
“Not happening. You can be alone with me here. That’s the best I’ll offer.”
