by Fawn Bailey
"Ryker told me what happened," Thorn said thoughtfully. "But I'm sure you can fill in the missing pieces. What happened to Ophelia, Kain? Why is she not speaking? I heard she's practically catatonic."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to tell him what the issue was.
"I fucked up," I admitted, my voice rough. "I wanted to push her. She begged me to push her. But when I did... I think I went too far. I think I used her when I really should've been there for her, supporting her, offering solace, not fucking hurting her. And I did the opposite."
"And now you're worried you lost her forever," Thorn finished for me, nodding as he handed me a drink.
Even though I'd just had one with Ryker, I accepted it gratefully, appreciating the sting of the liquor as it slid down my throat, warming my ice-cold body. I savored the feeling, any kind of feeling that took away from the pain of what I'd done to the love of my life.
"What happened between you two?" Thorn wanted to know. "Tell me what you did to her."
I swallowed thickly, not wanting to admit it. But his persistent stare convinced me to open my mouth, and it all spilled out. How she'd begged me to push her, to take her, to ignore the safe word she had, to take everything we'd built together, the trust she had for me, and stomp all over it. His face grew darker and darker as I went on, but he didn't say a word, not interrupting me once as I explained the whole story.
"She's hurting," he finally told me after I'd finished. "And it's your fault. But in her eyes, she can't comprehend how the one who's hurt her the most is also the one she loves the most. She doesn't want to admit it, doesn't want to understand. And the only way she can deal with what you've done to her is to be away from you."
"So, I did the right thing by sending her away?" I asked, raising my eyes to his.
"I think so," he went on. "She needs a new environment to heal. But I wouldn't stay away from her. I would stay in touch, stay close by, because she's going to need you soon enough, and when she does, you're going to want to be close to her. Do you understand?"
I nodded, impressed by the older man's wisdom.
"Did you ever do something similar?" I asked him hesitantly. "Did you ever... fuck up with Rose?"
He hung his head and nodded slowly, as if he wasn't completely willing to admit it.
"I made a mistake right in the beginning," he told me. "I let another man train her when it should have been me all along. But I was worried, afraid that I would do the same thing I'd done to the girls before her. And I didn't want her to suffer, couldn't bear the thought of hurting her myself."
"So, you're not rough with her?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it, and Thorn grinned darkly at me.
"I never said that," he admitted. "I've been rough... cruel. Damn right sadistic. And she loved every second of it."
"She's never pushed you too far?" I wanted to know. "Never wanted... more than you could give her?"
"I think we had our breaking point very early on in our relationship," he admitted. "Before we got to the... more sinister things, she'd already forgiven me for what I'd done. And this is what needs to happen with Ophelia. She needs to heal so she can be back in your arms. And she needs to know she's safe with you."
"She'll always be safe with me," I nodded. "I would protect her from anything, any-fucking-one in the whole wide world."
"I know that," Thorn said. "And so do you. But does she?"
"Maybe," I muttered.
"More importantly," he went on. "Does she know you'll protect her from yourself?"
I stared at the floor, contemplating his words.
"No," I finally managed to get out. "I don't think she does. I think she's still convinced what broke her, what I did, is because I wanted it. I did - in the moment, but it happened because she begged for it. And I was afraid for our relationship."
"Afraid you'd lose her if you didn't do it?" Thorn asked, and all I could do was nod, making him sigh in response. "She needs to heal. You're more than welcome to send her here if you like. She could spend some time with Rose and Amber instead of Ryker and that girl she's with now."
The offer was tempting. I didn't like Ophelia being with the enemy, and I had never trusted Ryker. But I knew she needed something to hold onto, a part of her childhood that reminded her of being carefree, happy and younger. I knew she needed Ryker.
"I appreciate it," I managed to get out. "I think I will keep her with Ryker for now, but I will take you up on that offer if anything changes."
He clapped me on the back, offering me an encouraging smile.
"It's not too late for you," he told me. "You're going to make it out alright."
"I hope so," I replied bitterly, but he seemed so sure of his words I almost started to believe him, too.
"I just want to see her for a little while," I insisted while Ginger's eyes drifted nervously behind her. "Will you just let me in, for God's sake?"
"Please understand, Mr.-" she started, but I cut her off.
"Understand?" I roared. "I'm the one who pays you, little girl. You work for me. And I don't take any fucking orders. Now stand aside and let me come in before I fucking lose it."
She sighed, closed the door and rattled with the chains and bolts holding it in place. All of it made me feel like a goddamn criminal, being forced to stand outside to see my woman, my property. She was overreacting. Surely Ophelia wasn't still this afraid of me after all this time. Surely she wanted to see me?
"Come in," Ginger said, opening the door just enough so I could come inside while nervously glancing over her shoulder. "I just don't want..."
"Want what?" I hissed at her. "Ophelia's fucking mine, in case you're forgetting. Ryker doesn't own her. I do."
She chewed her bottom lip nervously as she led me into the house.
It was pitch black outside, and the house was silent, with everybody already sleeping.
"You're not going to tell him I was here?" I asked the girl, and she shook her head.
"It would only mean trouble for both of us," she admitted. "Depending on how this ends..."
I didn't need the reminder.
We both knew this meeting needed to go well. If I got busted in Ophelia's room with my girl screaming her head off, Ryker would make my life a living hell.
I didn't say a word, just followed her inside as she motioned for me to come upstairs. My heartbeat was irregular, nervous, as I took the stairs and stopped after Ginger.
"She's in here," she muttered, and slowly, opened the door leading into what was supposedly Ophelia's bedroom.
My girl sat stark naked on the bed, holding the covers over her pale skin, shivering in the moonlight. Her dark hair was a halo around her head, and her eyes shone with the light streaming through the window. She was wide awake and hyper-aware, staring right at me as I made my way into the room.
She didn't move a muscle. I approached her slowly, not like a predator but like a child trying to make friends with a frightened animal. She didn't flinch or scream, and I thought that was an improvement.
My eyes darted to the door as it closed with a creak with Ginger on the other side. I was grateful she'd given us the small window of privacy, grateful even for just a moment spent in my girl's company.
"Hello, dolly," I said as I approached Ophelia. "I had to come and see you. I couldn't stay away."
She didn't say a word, but her doe-in-the-headlights gaze followed me as I moved through the room. She seemed poised to defend herself, ready to let out an almighty scream if I so much as looked at her the wrong way. We were both aware of it, though neither of us acknowledged it, instead staring at one another with eyes wide open.
"Everything's going to be alright," I told her, my voice soft, barely above a whisper. "I just had to come and see if they were treating you alright, dolly. I know it's only been a week, but..."
I swallowed thickly, my eyes dancing over the features I had known like the back of my hand a mere week ago.
"
He can't keep me away from you," I muttered. "I sent you here, dolly. Do you know why?"
She stared at me. No response, not even a nod or a shake of her head.
"I thought..." My voice broke over the two words, and I cleared my throat to distract her. "I thought it was the best place for you to be right now. You seemed so terrified by me, dolly. A single look would make you shriek and scream. Are you feeling better here? Are you healing?"
I wasn't hoping for a response, but as she looked deep into my eyes, there was a barely-there nod of her head.
"Yeah?" I asked, my heart skipping a bit. "Really, dolly? You're getting better? Do you want to come back with me?"
She shook her head this time, just once but such a fast jerk it made my heart sink.
"Okay," I told her. "It's okay if you can't yet. Do you like Ginger, dolly?"
A nod. I liked that.
"Good. Do you like Ryker?"
No response. Just those intense eyes boring into my soul.
I liked that, too.
I didn't want her getting too attached to him.
"Would you like to see me again?"
A nod.
"I will find you," I promised her, reaching for her without even thinking about it.
When my fingers grazed her skin, she recoiled from my touched and hissed like an animal, and I retreated, the sting from being denied burning me worse than if she'd slapped me across the face.
"I love you, dolly," I told her before turning my back and walking out of her room.
Her eyes followed my every move, and even when I shut the door, I could feel them through the white wood.
"How did it go?"
I turned to face Ginger, giving her a shrug and uncertain smile.
"Better," I admitted. "I think."
"Give her time," she said, patting my shoulder, her eyes lingering on mine. "She'll come around. Any girl would..."
She blushed once the last word left her lips, then rushed me out of the house.
As I walked a couple of blocks down to my car, I wondered whether there was more to Ginger's story. By the way she was acting, her little crush on me was obvious, and I didn't want it to be dangerous.
After all, I was the only one who knew where Ginger had come from...
Chapter Thirteen
Ryker
My interaction with Ophelia had become close to nonexistent by her second week at my house.
I was itching to get her to speak, itching for any kind of improvement I could brag about to Kain. But lately, he seemed more confident, sometimes even consoling me instead of the other way around. He was convinced Ophelia was getting better, but I still wasn't so sure. There were still no words, no clothes, no nothing. She was a living doll.
Ginger had repeatedly assured me Ophelia had made progress too, so for the time being, I decided not to meddle in whatever the fuck the two of them spent their days doing.
Instead, I focused my efforts on work and working out a plan to expose my father for who he truly was. I was ready to take him down. Taking over his business and bankrupting him would not be enough. I needed to see him on his knees for what he'd done to our family.
I missed my brother like a fucking missing limb. Every hour, thoughts of Max crossed my mind, my brother's angry voice convincing me I needed to avenge him. There was no getting away from the guilt that was threatening to eat me alive. I needed to do it. My father had to pay.
After spending a day in the city, I got a strange, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and the sudden urge to go back home and check if everything was alright. I tried to ignore the feeling, but the anxiety got worse and worse until I finally gave in and told my driver to drive back. I spent the whole ride staring out of the car window, that awful feeling never quite going away and filling me with a sense of dread that would be well justified by the time I finally got home.
By the time we pulled up in front of the house, I knew I'd been right to worry.
My father's car sat in the driveway. No fucking shame about it. He hadn't even parked around the corner to disguise the fact that he was here.
My blood fucking boiled as I got out of the car, ready to smash my father's skull in.
I walked towards the entrance, my staff moving out of the way as I stormed in. I stopped once I reached my head of security, grabbing him by the shirt and pushing him against the wall.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" I snarled at him. "How could you let him in here, you fucking useless piece of shit?"
"I... He..." He swallowed thickly, obviously at a loss for words, and I slammed him into the wall, my eyes raging with anger. "I'm sorry."
A small part of me, one I tried to quieten down, understood him,
My father was still capo di famiglia . They'd sworn allegiance to him, and even though I put food on their table, my employees were still loyal to my father. I couldn't do shit to change that - not unless I fucking killed him. And that was the plan. If I got to him before I calmed down, I was going to do it then and there.
"Where is he?" I snarled at the guard, and he motioned toward the upper floor.
"With... with Ophelia," he managed to get out.
I saw red.
I started hitting him, punch after fucking punch and he just took it, because he couldn't stand up to me - his boss. Blood splattered my crisp white shirt and my grimacing face, but I didn't give a shit. I didn't stop until he was on the floor. Then, I took a step back, my bloody fists shaking silently as I assessed the situation. He wasn't dead, judging by his groaning - not that I gave a shit whether he survived or not.
Turning around, I walked upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached the hallway, rushing into Ophelia's room.
Empty.
I chose Ginger's room next.
Empty.
My bedroom.
Fucking empty.
The only room left on that floor was the study, and I rushed in there, hearing voices as I drew nearer. My blood fucking boiled again, and I swore to myself if he'd hurt her I was going to have his fucking head.
I opened the door wide, and the scene before me chilled the blood in my veins.
Ophelia sat on the couch, stiff and frozen, wearing a simple light blue dress with nothing underneath. Her hard nipples pressed against the fabric, and she raised her eyes to meet mine. The faraway look in her gaze scared the shit out of me. She was barefoot, her hair silky and hanging in a silky curtain down her back. She looked stunning, and if it weren't for the terrified look on her face, I would've thought she was the most beautiful I'd ever seen her.
Ginger stood to the side, obviously scared as well, nervously twisting her hands in front of her.
And my father, the goddamned bastard, sat behind my desk, clapping his hands and roaring with laughter as I walked into the room.
"The prodigal son returns!" he laughed, grinning at me.
I stared into the face I used to know so well. The wrinkles around his eyes were those I'd known by heart only a couple of years ago. That easy-going, kind smile was a lie, just like the kindness in his eyes. I'd come to realize what a monster my father was, finally seeing his true colors after years of trying to deny the truth. But now I was ready to call him out on his shit. He'd taken it a step too far by involving my woman, and now he was going to pay.
I stepped in front of him, not even attempting to hide the smirk making its way on my face.
"You need to leave," I told him coolly. "Right the fuck now."
"I don't think so," he smiled at me. "I paid for this house after all, didn't I? I can visit as often as I'd fucking like. And don't tell me you're going to throw your father out on his ass, Ryker? I thought I raised you better than that."
"Leave," I roared to life. "Leave, or so help me God, I'm going to throw you out on your ass."
"Fine, fine," he laughed easily, getting up and running a hand through his hair easily as if he didn't have a goddamn care in the world. "If you don't want to entertain your own family, I'll
leave."
He brushed past Ginger when he got up and gave her a long, appreciative glance that made my bloody hands form fists at my sides. Then, he turned his attention to Ophelia, drinking her in and smirking at her.
"Thought she was tougher than that," he said to me, motioning towards her. "But you know, even the nastiest little bitches break eventually."
"Get the fuck out," I growled at him. "Now. Leave. Don't make me throw you out."
"Of course," he grinned, brushing past me with a barely-there touch of his shoulder to mine.
I was plagued by memories in an instant, thoughts of being a kid with my brother always by my side, following our Dad around and hoping he would acknowledge us. He had always preferred me, but Max was the older brother, so I didn't even fucking matter. Now, I remembered my father carrying me on his shoulders. I remembered walking with Max between him and our mother. Days that were carefree, a past that would plague me for the rest of my life, because in the end, my father hadn't given a shit about anything - not even his own flesh and blood. He'd killed Max, and now he had to pay.
"Never come back here again," I snarled at him, and he turned to look at me over his shoulder. "If you do, I'm going to kill you."
"I'd like to see you try, little boy," he smirked at me before heading down the stairs.
I fought the urge to collapse to my knees, instead going to Ophelia, urgently checking her for any wounds or injuries.
"He didn't hurt her, did he?" I directed my question at Ginger who walked up behind me. "He didn't touch her?"
"S-She's f-fine," she stuttered, but I didn't believe her.
I threw my head back and roared with anger, running my fingers through my dark hair.
"I'm going to kill him," I said, and this time, it was a fucking promise. "Are you okay, Ginger?"
She nodded, but she was so fucking pale I got even more worried.
I took her by the shoulders, looking deep into her eyes.
"Get Ophelia to her room," I told her. "Make sure she's okay. I'll send someone up to help you."
She nodded wordlessly and helped Ophelia to her feet, slowly walking her out of the room.
