Dark Surrendering

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Right,” he said, crossing his arms. “You loved me and I fucked it up, and now you no longer love me. Well, you wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last.”

  I was trying to be patient, but he sure knew how to push my buttons. “Don’t be a martyr, Ryder. How can you expect people to keep giving you second and third and fourth chances? Life just doesn’t work that way. You can only take so much before you have to give up.”

  His lips twisted into a smile. “That’s right. Giving up. I’m familiar with that too.”

  “Sometimes giving up is easier than trying.” My entire family had given up on life. They’d rather not try than try and potentially fail. Much safer that way.

  His face went bright red. Now I was pissing him off.

  “You don’t fucking know me!” he roared. That flipped my anger switch. I wasn’t going to let him yell at me.

  “You wouldn’t let me!” I screamed back.

  Someone banged on the door.

  “Keep it down in there!” A man yelled. Yet another grumpy neighbor. Our building seemed to be full of nosy and annoying people.

  “Mind your own business,” Ryder and I yelled at the exact same time. The guy banged a few more times and then stomped back to his place when Ryder and I didn’t start up our yelling match again.

  Instead of yelling, we just glared at each other.

  I really should stop looking at him. Being here, in spite of how unbelievably enraged he made me, brought back a lot of memories. The kiss kept replaying, like my brain was skipping or broken or something.

  “You loved me?” he asked, his voice soft as if he was almost afraid to ask.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I did.” Do. Present tense. I’d thought that with some distance, and by telling myself how much he’d fucked up, the feelings would go away, or at least change to something more rational.

  But here with him, alone again, everything good came rushing back. The bad times had been really bad, but the good times? More than epic.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and I laughed. The anger had fizzled now that we’d gotten it out of our systems.

  “Yeah, well. All your stupid sexual comments and the way you stared at me must have gotten to me. You bastard.” Now he laughed and scratched his chin. I would not think about what it would be like to kiss him now with the addition of the beard. I would not.

  “I guess I’m sorry for that too.”

  “You should be.”

  I didn’t know what to say now, and he didn’t seem to either.

  He coughed.

  “Do you want to help me make dinner?” It was something we used to do. Before the overdoses. I missed having him in the kitchen with me.

  He thought about it for a second or two and then nodded.

  “Yeah, sure.” I went to Rory’s fridge and looked through it to see what she had. Slim pickings, that’s what. I searched for something I could make into a complete meal and couldn’t find much. Guess they hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping in a while. Resorting to the pantry, I found some soup and bread in the breadbox. They had some crappy processed cheese that I normally wouldn’t be caught dead eating, but I was going to suck it up.

  “This okay?” I laid out the ingredients.

  “Whatever,” he said. I didn’t like this side of Ryder. He’d gone back to not giving a shit.

  “Or I could just let you starve,” I said.

  He scoffed. “I know how to make food for myself.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Oh, you think I can’t heat up soup and make some sandwiches? How moronic and inept do you think I am?” I knew he could do both. Hell, I’d almost trained him as a sous chef. But I missed having this easy banter with him. I liked it a lot more than the yelling.

  “Nope. I bet you can’t.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Watch me.”

  Oh, I watched. I watched as he got down a pan, and I watched as he opened the can of soup, and I watched as he put the sandwiches together and buttered them, just like I taught him. I watched his body move around the kitchen and just appreciated the view.

  “Did you miss me?” I asked as he handed me a glass of wine. He poured water for himself.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he adjusted the flame on the burner so the bread didn’t burn.

  “I think I’d like to hear you say it.” I sipped my wine and leaned against the counter.

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “You know I missed you.”

  “Good.”

  “Do you think April will be okay?” he asked.

  “I really don’t know. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now,” I said.

  We both thought about that for a moment and the mood turned heavy.

  He flipped the sandwiches so they could brown on the other side and pressed them down with the spatula so the cheese would melt. I was so proud.

  “So, did you miss me?” he asked, batting his eyelashes and changing the tone again. I picked up a napkin, balled it up, and threw it at him. He caught it in midair.

  “I missed certain things. I didn’t miss your fucking drama.” Oops. I couldn’t stop saying the wrong things, could I?

  “What did you miss?” he asked, throwing the napkin in the trash with perfect aim.

  “I’m not going to give you a list,” I said, starting to feel self-conscious. Ryder always put me on the spot.

  “Then give me two things.” He stirred the soup then poured it into two bowls.

  “Your tattoos, for one,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him what I really missed.

  “Oh, of course,” he said, rolling his eyes as he plated the sandwiches and cut them in half. He slid the bowl of soup over to me then the plate with the sandwich on it.

  “And . . . the way you say my name.” That wasn’t too weird, right?

  “The way I say your name?” he said, picking up half of his sandwich and dunking it into the soup before taking a bite. “I don’t get it.”

  “I can’t explain it, but I like the way you say my name. It’s weird, okay?” I looked away from his face and down at my food. There was no way I was dunking my sandwich, so I started on my soup, blowing on a spoonful to cool it.

  “I wasn’t aware of saying your name in any particular way, but okay then.”

  We ate in silence.

  “So, what did you miss about me?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t all that interested.

  “Your tits, for one,” he said, mocking me. “And your eyes.”

  “You mean my actual eyes? That’s not a euphemism for something?” I never knew with him.

  He laughed. “No, I mean your actual eyes. The ones in your head. It’s not as much them as the way they look at me. I’ve missed seeing you. A lot.” Was he going to start opening up? I didn’t know if I could handle that.

  “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. In spite of everything.” I swirled my soup in the bowl. I wasn’t actually that hungry. At least not anymore.

  “I completely fucked up, Sloane.”

  I smiled at his use of my name.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  He set down his spoon and sighed. “I don’t know what to do to fix things. Every time I try, something goes wrong. I mean, I do something wrong.”

  I looked up from my soup at him. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve used you enough already. How can you still be here and talking to me? I would have at least punched me in the balls or something.” He smiled a little.

  “I guess I have more faith in you than you do. But I have to be honest, Ryder, that night I really lost it. I could just see this cycle with you if I stayed. You’re in this dark place, and I didn’t want you to drag me down with you.” My words were brutally honest, but I knew he could take it. And I needed to be honest. With him and with myself.

  “I know. I didn’t want that either. That was why I was always so conflicted. I really, really shouldn’t have kissed you. I shoul
d have let you go when I had the chance.” Yeah, he should have. But I might not have let him.

  “You tried to get rid of me before, and look where we are. I’m back. Guess you can’t get rid of me after all.” We both smiled at each other.

  “I don’t want to assume anything anymore, but I would really like it if you could trust me again. Sometime in the distant future, I’d like to earn it back from you.”

  We were back on serious ground.

  “I have to be honest, Ryder. I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

  If there was anything I’d learned about Ryder, it was that love wasn’t enough. It didn’t conquer all.

  “That’s fair. That’s completely fair. But would you give me the chance to try? That’s all I’m asking for. I know I don’t deserve it. Not even a little bit.” No, he didn’t. But love was a funny thing.

  “I can try. We can both try.”

  He smiled again and went back to his sandwich. “Good.” He dunked it into his soup, and I made a face.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

  “So she was basically like Elle Woods in the flesh. It was awful,” I said. I was catching Ryder up on what he’d missed in my life since we’d last talked.

  “That is truly horrifying,” he said with a shudder. We were on the couch, a tub of ice cream between us.

  “It was. Inari had to hold me back from saying something really awful to her.”

  Ryder and I had been talking for hours, and it was getting late. I should also check my phone. I’d put it on silent for the time being, but I wanted to check with Rory and Lucah.

  “Be right back,” I said, getting up. “Don’t eat the rest while I’m gone.”

  “No promises,” he said as I headed to the bathroom.

  I wanted to have some privacy so he wouldn’t ask me what I was doing and who I was texting.

  There were only a few messages from Rory and Lucah. No change. It was a sort of wait and see situation. Rory said she was currently covered in glitter and wearing a tiara. Hey, at least those girls had taste. I messaged them back that Ryder was fine and to give our best to April and Tate.

  I went back out to the living room to find Ryder shoving the empty ice cream container under the couch.

  “Busted,” I said. “You’re trying to earn my trust and this is not the way to do it, R. Blythe.” I narrowed my eyes and glared.

  “You have no idea what I’ve been through, S. Harris,” he said, pointing to the container. “These guys came in and held a gun to my head and told me if I yelled, they’d kill me. And then they ate the ice cream and jumped out the window. I’m lucky to be alive.” I had to give him points for style.

  “How many of them were there?” I asked.

  “Five. No, ten!”

  “Was it five or ten? This is important information, Ryder. We should probably call the police.” This. I missed this. Being stupid with him.

  “We should. Hold on.” He went and got a pad of paper and a pencil. “I think I can make sketches of them.” He started to draw, but the only problem was that Ryder wasn’t a very good artist. Well, he could do funny doodles, but that was about it.

  “That is a bunch of stick figures with guns,” I said when he revealed it to me.

  “Exactly. It was a stick man stick-up.” Oh, that was just ridiculous, and I told him so.

  “You weren’t there. You don’t even know.” He shook his head and finally broke character and grinned. “I missed you,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s getting really late,” I said. It was more than late. It was officially the middle of the night. I was exhausted and definitely wanted to get into bed.

  “You can go back to your place. I’m not going to do anything while you’re gone,” he said, putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

  “Are you sure about that?” I said, half-serious.

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure my brother would kill you then kill me. I don’t want to fuck things up again, Sloane. I know I said that before, but I mean it now. I really do.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “I know. I want to make you believe.” I got up off the couch and went to the door. He followed me.

  “Thanks for doing this for Lucah and Rory. It was really good of you.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  “No, don’t brush it off. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. It really means a lot. See you tomorrow?” He leaned in the doorway, and I backed out.

  “Thanks for saying that. And I’ll see you tomorrow.” He slowly closed the door and I headed back down the hallway.

  The crazy thing about being with Ryder again wasn’t how hard it was. The crazy thing was how easy it was to fall back into our old routine. Our old banter and jokes. So damn easy.

  I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come. That was okay. Tomorrow was Saturday, and I didn’t have any plans anyway, except for seeing Ryder. I really hoped April was going to be okay.

  I’d missed Ryder more than I could fathom. Just seeing him made me want to smile until my face broke. He still had the power to make me happy.

  Damn redheads. Rory had been the same way with Lucah. At least for her things had worked out. I flipped over on my stomach and punched my pillow so it would go into a more comfortable shape.

  It didn’t do any good.

  A delicious smell woke me the next morning. I’d finally gotten to sleep a few hours before daylight. I opened my eyes and saw a tray of steaming food sitting on my dresser. I only needed one guess to figure out who it was from.

  “Ryder!” I yelled, and there was a knock at my bedroom door before he poked his head in.

  “Yes? How can I be of service?”

  I sat up and covered myself with my blanket even though I wasn’t naked. It was too intimate to have Ryder in my bedroom. The last time he’d been here we were naked.

  “I want you to give me that key back,” I said as he grabbed the tray and brought it over to me, setting it on the bed. The food distracted me for a second. French toast, sliced oranges, a cup of coffee, and a little vase with a daisy in it. He was a charmer, that was for sure.

  “Sure. I’ll give it back as soon as I’ve made a copy.” He grinned and sat down on the edge of my bed.

  I shook my head. “No, I want you to give the key back so you can’t get into my apartment anymore. Or else I’ll just change the locks.” That would be expensive, but necessary.

  “But I brought you breakfast,” he said, pointing to the tray. I was absolutely ravenous, and I wanted to fall on the food like a wild animal, but I resisted. I couldn’t show him how much I wanted it.

  “Ryder. Aren’t you supposed to be earning my trust? Breaking into my apartment isn’t exactly a good way to go about that.”

  He smiled. “But I didn’t break in. You gave me a key.” I nearly picked up the tray and threw it at him. “I just wanted to do something nice for you to thank you for last night and everything. For agreeing to give me another chance.”

  “You are on thin ice, mister,” I said, picking up the fork and then spreading the napkin on my lap.

  “Enjoy your breakfast,” he said, ignoring my comment and getting to his feet. “I’ll be down the hall if you need more syrup.” He closed the door and I listened as he left the apartment, locking the door behind him. I really needed to get that key back.

  I stabbed a corner of the French toast with my fork then cut it up with my knife. I knew it would be good. I’d given him a very extensive French toast lesson once. He’d done great. The toast wasn’t mushy in the middle or too done on the outside.

  “Damn,” I said as I ate. If he kept cooking like this for me, he was on the road to forgiveness.

  When I was done, I got up and got dressed, pulling my hair back and applying light makeup before carrying the tray to the kitchen. He’d obviously cooked in Rory’s kitchen, so I
needed to bring the plates back, but I could do that later. I texted her and asked how things were going, but she didn’t respond right away. I really hoped that no news was good news.

  Figuring I should get back to my babysitting duties, I walked down the hall. The door was unlocked, but no one answered when I knocked so I just went in.

  “Ryder?” I called out. No answer. I started looking through the apartment. It took me a minute to hear the shower. Oh. I backed slowly out of the apartment and decided to come back later. I definitely didn’t need to see Ryder in the shower or think about Ryder in the shower or anything relating to Ryder being naked and running water.

  I really needed to get a grip.

  I waited so long for Ryder to get out of the shower that he came and found me.

  “How was breakfast?” he asked as he unlocked the door and walked in.

  “You have a real problem with respecting personal space, you know that?” I really needed to put my foot down.

  “I guess. Next time I’ll knock. How’s that?”

  “That should have been your first instinct. I mean, this is my apartment. I’d, you know, like some privacy.”

  He thought about that for a second. “Yeah, you’re right.” And he dropped my key on the counter.

  “No copies?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Nope. On my honor,” he said, holding up his hand then crossing his heart. “I mean, for what it’s worth.”

  I didn’t comment on his honor.

  “Well, thank you.” I snatched the key in case this was some sort of trap.

  “So, what are you up to today?” he asked. “I heard the news from Lucah. Looks like they have to wait for a while to see how everything is going to turn out. I wish I could be there.”

  “I bet. I really wish there was something I could do,” I said.

  “You are doing it.” Not really. This wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be. In fact, it was much too easy.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he went to the sink.

  “Dishes,” he said, as if it was obvious. “I’m not going to make you clean up. Besides, I got really good at washing dishes those three days I actually did it.” He set the tray down with a clatter.