His shame made no sense to me. I’d never imposed the rule on him as a condition for our relationship, or friendship for that matter. I adopted the standard for my own reasons. It made no difference to me if he kept it or not.
“It must have been pretty bad news.”
He drew in a breath and, as the air seeped out, I swore I heard an aggravated growl at the base of it. “I got a text telling me the woman I loved was running off with another man.”
Prickles raced over my skin. The text I’d sent before I left to find Dallas, before I’d become a prisoner and victim. I never knew if Ryder had received it or not.
His laugh was bitter at the edges, and tired everywhere else. “You know, I didn’t even care if he made you happy or not. I had plans to get you back. When it looked like it wasn’t going to happen, I drank everything Johnny had until I went numb. I woke up in the broom closet the next morning, snuggling a bottle of brandy.”
“And you decided no girl was ever worth that kind of humiliation,” I finished for him.
“No,” he didn’t turn around, but the resolve in his jaw tightened. “I’d sleep at the bottom of the ocean if it meant I got to have you, Lindy.”
Ryder pressed on, moving down the path. “But it’s definitely made a couple points on my side of the compound. Resources are limited and I don’t split the take.”
I tripped over his confession and slammed up against his desire to help the rebels, knowing he’d get himself killed. I’d promised to keep him safe, and he was about to throw himself to the wolves.
“When you say rebellion, what do you mean exactly?”
Every step closer to camp sharpened Ryder’s training. His eyes scanned the trees, watching for threats. The grip on his rifle showed no revulsion or fear, but confidence instead. Eden’s Haven might not have broken him, but they were changing him.
“I mean when we get enough support, we’re going shove Cyrus and his cronies in the pit they built and let them try to claw out. They deserve to die for what they’ve done.”
Sickening hatred oozed from his voice. He’d never received closure for the abuse his father had inflicted on him, and it’d only deepened as he learned of his mother’s captivity and torment. That rage needed an outlet and he’d found it.
I caught his arm but didn’t have the strength to turn him. “Their deaths won’t change what Charles did to you. This can’t fix your childhood.”
His arm slipped out of my grasp as he pulled away. “This isn’t about that.”
“You know it is,” I said, “at least in part. I can’t let you do this. You’ll be killed.”
“I won’t.” His voice turned cold like the one he employed with the men at Eden’s Haven.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I said, careful not to trip over the emotions that lay in my path.
His shoulders bounced as he released a derisive laugh. “What does it matter, Lindy? You won’t let Dallas go, and there’s no room for me.”
I stumbled back. The cord from the fish cut into my palm. “Won’t let him go? Ryder, I’m desperate to—there’s nothing I want more—”
The earth shifted and his arms wrapped around me. He was so fast, so careful, I never had time to pull away or object. My gasp was muffled by his mouth, a kiss eager enough it destroyed my every need to think logically. It forced me to feel everything I’d denied. The pressure of his fingertips dug into my back as if he might never allow space between us again. They tangled up in the slick fabric of my top, my braid tight in his grasp. And I was his, or at least that was what I felt from him.
Just as I had claimed him with a hand on his shoulder, he claimed me with a kiss.
Our lips broke apart, but still stuck slightly as he kissed me once, twice, and his forehead rested against mine. An iron claw clenched his vocal cords, tight with pending emotion.
“I feel him every time I kiss you. I swear he’s laughing at me, telling me I’ll never have what he did. I’ll never be what he was for you.”
“He wasn’t—”
Ryder cut my words short with his kiss, quick but encompassing before he spoke again.
“It doesn’t make me stop wanting you. I’d die to protect you.” Ryder’s fingers trembled as he tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “I love you.”
My eyes squeezed shut at the words. Too many other thoughts pulled free when he said them. Chaos, pain, more than I could handle, all connected to those words. Palms over my ears, his hands steadied me and silenced the demons once more.
“I wasn’t going to say it anymore,” his whisper broke through the din, “but every time I do, I see you try to hang on to it, and for one second, I see you under the rubble.” His lips caught my cheek before he said, “No matter what you choose, or what happens to us, I’ll always love you, Huckleberry.”
Not willing to trust my eyes, I collapsed into his embrace and clung to his strength as I had many times before. My mind was a mess, he was right about that, but there was solace knowing he could see me through the wreckage.
♦ ♦ ♦
The men all whooped when we returned, five fish on a line. Ryder carried them, because the praise had to fall on him. Anger pooled in my chest at the world I’d fallen into. Hands clapped Ryder’s shoulders, jokes were made at my expense, and then they were gone.
Genesis stepped in next to me, arms tight across her chest. When she spoke, her lips barely moved, her voice hovered below a whisper.
“Are you in?”
She referred to the rebellion. Somehow, she’d talked with Liam, her husband, and she knew Ryder was on their side. The air gelled between us, thick and apprehensive. She took a risk asking me the question. Children ran over the open space. The men thrust the fish at Harmony in the distance and a few rowdy calls trailed after her. Liam and Ryder stood away from the crowd, jaws set, expressions blank, but tension in their eyes. Anger refuses to hide. Others didn’t approve either. Faces faded one into another. I couldn’t keep count, but Ryder was right, they needed our help. Perhaps we could free Tasha from her prison as well.
“I’m in,” I said.
♦ ♦ ♦
The water cooled my warm skin. The sensation slipped up over my arms and then back down again, a silk scarf of liquid. Despite the depths of the waters around us, my heart refused to race. Because of him. Clear blue and strong, his eyes grounded me and told me everything would always be all right if I was in his grasp.
“I think you’re getting a little burn off the water, Cass.” Dallas’ lips brushed my cheek, a smile barely etched at his mouth. “That fair skin of yours doesn’t know what to do with all this sunshine.”
Our legs bumped occasionally beneath the ripples of the pond. His legs slipped against mine and released a rush in my stomach. It surged up my spine into my hands, causing my fingers to tighten against his bare shoulders. His soft laughter always made me smile. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment when I realized I’d been caught. His face pressed against my neck, sweet kisses tightened my grip further. He knew how to unhinge me like no one ever had.
“I love you, Cass.”
The hot whisper brushed against my collarbone. His chin dipped into the water as we sunk a little lower. He wanted to hear the words back. I knew that. But the words were locked behind a wall where I couldn’t free them.
“Do you trust me?”
I knew he’d asked me before. I hadn’t been able to answer.
Trust. Why was it so hard?
His kiss brought my thoughts to him again. My fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, interlocked for security, lost in the affection he graciously showered me in. Lost in everything I’d craved for years.
“Trust me, Cass.”
The plea begged me to give over control for a moment.
“Trust me.”
The sun glared on the water, blinding me and obscuring his face.
“Trust me.”
When the sunspot cleared, the solace vanished. Peace snuffed out.
“Trust me.”
No longer a request, but a command.
He wanted to own me.
“Trust me,” a sinister blade edged his voice, “Lindy.”
I sucked in a breath, but too late. Air mixed with water. He yanked me beneath the surface. Thrashing, I tried to break his vice grip on my arms. I shoved a foot into his stomach and pushed upward, retching and coughing when I found air again.
Light snuffed out as he jerked me under once more. Darkness obscured his face, yet I could feel it—the same expression from the cabin, crazed, frenzied, and giddy over my distress.
My lungs burned and his fingers locked around my hips, dragging me deeper. A scream released a chain of bubbles to the surface. Hope snuffed out with the light. His mouth found mine in the darkness, his body an anchor to mine. I fought his kiss, tearing at any flesh I could find, but his grip on me cinched down to agony. With one breath, he pulled the air from my lungs, draining the life from my body. The scream burst from my throat. The last of my air expired and my struggle went dark.
“Grab her hands!”
“She’ll wake the whole camp!”
The voices jarred me.
Screaming.
Terrified screaming.
“Muffle her face!”
“Let me in! She needs me!”
Moonlight’s cries cracked the air. I had to get free. I had to get away from Dallas. My arms flung and collided with objects and bodies, anything threatening my escape.
“Sparrow, calm down.” Harmony’s voice tried to soothe me, but it did the opposite.
I wasn’t Sparrow.
I wasn’t Cassidy.
My palm slapped open skin. The screams continued. Genesis caught my wrists and pinned me against the mattress. I realized the screaming was my own voice, shrill and terrified.
“Let me help her!” A deep voice yelled from the barred door.
“Men are not permitted,” Ivy scolded the intruder.
“Breathe.” The simple command broke the chaos. Genesis pulled my entire focus. She’d climbed into my bunk. Her braids framed her face, falling forward past her shoulder, dangling like vines from her scalp.
Reality filtered back. Harmony peered between the slats of my bunk, eyes wide with worry. Fern held Moonlight against the wall on the floor. My raw throat told me I’d been screaming longer than I’d been awake.
“Lindy!”
His voice pulled my attention to the door. Ryder’s outline filled the doorway. Ivy blocked the way with her arms locked to each side in a death grip. At least one set of hands pulled him in the opposite direction, but he thrashed and screamed my name despite the resistance.
The chaos drained my emotions to total exhaustion. The night air rushed over my hot skin. Dew drops collected on my cheeks with my spent tears. Iris cried out.
“Men are not permitted!”
But Ryder shoved through anyway. Urging the women to move, Ryder took his spot beside my bunk and slipped his arm through to capture my face in his palm. For a second, they all faded away, all that mattered was Ryder there at my side.
“I’m here,” he said. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” Though I meant to assure him, my ragged voice told another story.
“Ryder, Raife is coming,” Gabe said from the doorway.
But he didn’t move, locked away in my stare.
Harmony moved to the door. “Gabe, you have to make him leave.”
Genesis pushed Ryder’s hand through the slat. “You have to go, now. The punishment is too severe.”
Worry pinned him there. I needed to give him assurance, but between my exhaustion, the terrified cries of the children, and the yelling from Ryder’s companions, my head swam with an inability to focus.
“I’m awake now.” I tried to find something that would mean more to him, but nothing felt safe.
Ryder’s shoulders slumped, but he reversed two steps. He knew firsthand how nightmares affected me, of course he didn’t want to leave. What could I tell him to put him at ease?
“Ryder.”
His boots paused in their exit before he glanced back. His name was enough. We were tethered by something stronger than the turmoil we faced. Our unspoken connection said more than words ever could.
The moon flooded the entry as Ryder backed away. Genesis pulled herself from my bunk, her weight shifting my body as she moved. Moonlight’s cries tapered to a small whimper. Darkness swallowed the light and the door latched shut.
Beds rustled and groaned as the room settled back to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes barely registering the slats of wood above me. Weeks had gone by without a single nightmare. What had triggered it?
It was the net. It had tangled and tightened around the memory from that day with Ryder. He had tried to rewrite me, and the original memory had fought back.
Shouts exploded outside the cabin walls. I couldn’t distinguish the voices, but the cries of agony were unmistakable.
Pain.
Ryder took another beating over his love for me.
Chapter 24
Coughing alerted me to the morning sun. I hadn’t slept after the nightmare, not fully. I was too afraid to slip beneath its controlling grasp. The fit of coughing came from the bunk below me.
Fern.
Responsibility landed square on my shoulders.
The night air.
The moisture.
All my fault.
The wooden slats of the ladder cut into my bare feet as I stepped down the ladder, practicing to maintain silence. Far right on the third rung, far left on the fourth, or a creak would cry out. Far right, then direct center. I hid my smile when I set my feet to the rough floor. If I needed it, I had a way out.
Fern’s cough worsened as the day pressed on. She refused to look at me, but I felt her gaze every time I turned my back. She left after Harmony delivered our half-loaf of bread, breaking off the end before she went for her daily lesson with Willow.
I rocked back on my rear and let the peeking sun warm me. The rain came early that morning, but not heavy, still I relished even the bashful glow.
“Huckleberry.”
A tense word, but hushed on the wind, weighted with necessity. Still, I couldn’t pinpoint it. My eyes darted between the trees, searching for the source of the name only he knew.
For a brief second, I worried it might be a test. They could have wrestled the true nature of our presence from him. They could have learned the name to test my allegiance.
“Huckleberry.”
It didn’t matter—for the same reason he’d risked his safety last night, I’d go when he called and suffer the consequences.
Branches snapped under my feet as I ventured into the forbidden tree line. The sun snuffed out, from the trees or the clouds, I couldn’t be sure. My heart pulsed, quickening with every step I took. There was no way to move without sound, the ground too littered with debris from the forest.
Each tree I passed I prepared myself for attack. Every step that drew me away from the garden meant a new level of punishment in retribution for my disobedience. I began to worry that I’d imagined his voice out of concern for his safety. There was no way of knowing if he’d even survived.
A hand clamped over my mouth. Rough tree bark scraped through my top where he pressed me back. The hot hand stifled my scream.
“Shhh,” he cautioned as I squirmed under his palm. He was stronger than me. It didn’t compute, Ryder had never been stronger. Rather, he’d never taken the chance to show me.
“It’s me,” he whispered again, “don’t scream.”
I knew it was him all along, but his face—his face frightened me. The bruise and swelling around his right eye drove my guilt like a railroad spike. His opposite jaw, splotches purple and black, made me want to crumble in shame. They were all mine. I’d earned those bruises and he’d taken them. Dried blood on his chin made me wonder how he could ever love someone like me.
Ryder’s hand fell away from my mouth
. “I don’t have long. Liam is covering for me at the south entrance. I had to see you.”
I lifted my hand to touch his face, but he pulled away, shoving space between us so fast I wondered if his feelings had changed. I tucked my offending hand into my other as if to protect it.
“You shouldn’t have come last night—”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Ryder glanced behind him. “There’s something coming up. Something big. They keep calling it real world training. They’re talking about civilians, talking like we’re real soldiers in a war.”
“What is it? What are they going to—”
“I don’t know! If I knew I’d tell you.”
The tree cradled me close as I pushed back to escape him. Ryder saw my fear and cowered at the thought.
“I need to know what kind of protection we have. If they force me to do something illegal, will I be charged with a crime?”
“I’m not sure,” I told him, “my dad would know. You could ask Shane.”
Ryder shoved space between us. He paced between two trees, a caged jaguar, poised and dangerous.
“I can’t hurt anyone. But they’re going to kill me if I don’t go through with this.” His eyes brightened as he looked at me again. “Let’s run. I know how to get out. I know the trails. We know where Tasha is now. The chief can come in—”
“He has no jurisdiction here,” I interjected. “And there’s no crime, at least nothing that can stick to them. You’re the one who wanted the rebellion. What about these people?”
“They ruined my cuff. During training, they held me underwater. I used my hands to pull free. It doesn’t work now. Your necklace is my only hope.” His pacing resumed. Feral emotion clouded his eyes. I wanted to rescue him from the demons that threatened him. But like the jaguar, an invisible wall of glass separated us.
A derisive laugh exploded from his chest, as if one of the demons had whispered a joke. He stopped abruptly and faced me. “They say you don’t love me.”
Cold air seeped between my lips, shocking against the warmth within. “Who says that?” I suspected his abusers, Raife or Cyrus. “The people who hurt you, did they say that?”
Sparrows & Sacrifice Page 18
