by C. J. Scott
"No. I don't expect it. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. So very sorry. I wish I could take it back and things could be the way they were between us…" His shoulders hunched and he turned away.
I was losing him again.
"That's quite a speech, Ryder. Me and my imaginary boyfriend thank you."
At least he stopped. I think he may have even laughed, but when he turned around, his mouth was flat, his eyes stark, bleak. "I've been a bastard ever since I came back."
"Yep. So much so that Kate will run you off with a pitchfork if she sees you. Beth too."
"What about your new cousin? Not sure I'd like to meet him when he's in a bad mood."
"Then you'd better stay on his good side and be nice. You can start by coming in and saying hi."
I opened the door. He stepped over the threshold. Seeing him up close, without the screen between us, stole my breath. His eyes were rimmed by shadows and criss-crossed with red lines. He looked like a shattered man, completely wrecked. Guess he didn't sleep much the night before either.
"Hey," he said, repeating his greeting as if we hadn't just had a conversation.
"Hey," I said back. Instinct took over then and I took his hand. That's the only reason I could give for my impulsive action. If I'd thought about it, I wouldn't have done it. Touching Ryder, however innocently, had always sent my hormones flipping and made my brain mushy.
He offered me a smile. I smiled back. Then he hugged me. He buried his face in my hair and breathed deeply, raggedly. I held him tight. It's what he seemed to need. A pulse in his cheek beat an erratic rhythm against my throat.
We stayed like that for a moment then he pulled away, yet didn't completely let go. He pressed his forehead to mine so it was difficult to focus on more than just his eyes. His beautiful sky-blue eyes, holding my gaze.
"I should have taken you with me to college," he whispered. "God, I needed you there."
My heart did somersaults. "Why?"
"You would have stopped me from doing some dumb things."
Great. Peachy. Stupid me thought he wanted me there because he liked my company. Better still, he'd discovered he couldn't live without me.
But no, I was Ryder's conscience. His Jiminy Cricket, sitting on his shoulder advising him what not to do. Plain Jane who never got into trouble, never did the wrong thing, never took risks, never did anything exciting in her life.
I pulled away. "On second thoughts, Kate probably isn't ready to see you yet. Ben either. You should just go." I held the door open for him. My heart hammered in my chest, beating out a protest. I ignored it and listened to my head instead. Sending him away was the right thing to do. Maybe not for him, but for me. It was past time to put myself before Ryder.
He tucked his hands into his pockets again. "Right. Okay. If that's what you think is best."
I hadn't expected to hear an ache in his voice. Hadn't expected the muscles around his eyes to flinch, or his lips to turn down at the corners. He gave me a nod and walked out the door.
I closed it, wondering if I'd just turned away someone in desperate need of a friend. I sat on my own for a while in my room, unable to face the others until I was more composed. I didn't cry, but I felt like a bitch. No matter how often I told myself I had nothing to be sorry for, the feeling wouldn't go away.
I was still wondering whether to visit Ryder when I found Kate and Ben in the dining room. Neither was painting, but they both held brushes, jaws agape as they listened to the radio. The news was on, but I didn't catch what the announcer said.
"Switch it off," Ben said when he saw me. He looked panicked, his eyes wide.
Kate leapt at the radio and smeared paint over the knob, turning it off. "How much did you hear?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Not much. Why? What's happened?"
Silence is never a good thing after that question.
"You guys are scaring me," I said. "Tell me what's happened."
"That was the news," Ben said. "They mentioned Ryder."
Dread clawed at my stomach. "He was just here. He's fine."
Kate took my hand, not caring that she was getting paint on me. "Jane, he's in a bit of trouble."
That sounded familiar. Horribly, sickeningly familiar. It was the same word he'd used the day before. "What kind of trouble?"
"The kind that won't go away easily. Expect the media to be in Winter soon."
"And the police," Ben said, grim.
"Just tell me what has happened?"
"Ryder raped a woman."
CHAPTER 9
I sat down on the floor. All the chairs had been removed from the room and there was nowhere else to sit. I needed to sit. My legs were too weak to hold me. I don't know how long I sat there, taking in Ben's statement, but long enough for him and Kate to grow concerned. She knelt in front of me and peered in my face. A deep frown marred her brow.
"Jane? Are you all right?"
I shook my head. "No way did he do that. No way on this earth did he…" I couldn't even say the word, it was so ugly and so wrong to be linked to Ryder. "Tell me what the news reporter said."
Ben sat beside me. He didn't put his arm around me or try to console me, but his presence was solid and welcome. "He said that a woman has come forward and accused Ryder of raping her. The college wouldn't offer a comment, only that he's injured and recuperating in an 'unknown location.' Jane, I think it's safe to say they'll guess that he's here. Prepare yourself for a media storm."
"It's not me who needs to prepare myself," I said. "It's Ryder."
"And his dad," Kate said, quietly. I was acutely aware that she didn't leap to his defense and declare him innocent.
"You know he didn't do it, Kate. I don't want Ben to take my word for it. You tell him."
She blinked her big eyes at me. Then looked down at the floor.
"Kate!"
"He's changed," she said.
"Not that much!"
"You saw what he was like in the diner, and he upset you yesterday."
Ben held up his hands. "Wait. I know he broke your heart, Jane, but what else has he done?" I didn't answer and he appealed to Kate. "What did he do in the diner?"
I glared at her. We had an agreement that she wouldn't tell him. She screwed her face up. "Sorry, Jane, he needs to know. He's your cousin and he only wants to protect you from guys like Ryder."
"Stop it, Kate. Ryder hasn't done anything. You know that. You must know that!"
She sighed and knelt in front of Ben and I. "When he used to live here, before going off to college, he was a good guy. A great guy. Kind, sweet, a lovely friend to Jane, me, everyone. But the other day, he was rude. Obnoxiously rude."
"That doesn't mean he's a rapist!" I hissed.
"No, but it does mean he's changed, and changed beyond recognition too. If he has any redeeming qualities left then I couldn't see any. Nobody should speak to anyone the way he spoke to you. And don't try to tell me he wasn't like that yesterday, because I'm sure he was if your reaction was any indication. I still can't believe you slept with him anyway," she muttered.
"I slept with him because he was kind and wonderful again." I didn't tell her it had all been his way to prove a point about—
Whoa! His words from yesterday began to make sense. His comments about not trusting women, that we kept score and ticked boxes… He'd come to Winter with the rape accusation hanging over his head and he'd been angry about the injustice of being sent home when he'd done nothing wrong.
It only proved to me that he hadn't done it, otherwise there wouldn't have been anger and blame. Not that I needed convincing. I knew Ryder hadn't changed as much as Kate thought he had.
It didn't excuse his behavior.
"Did the radio mention the police were investigating?" I asked.
Ben shrugged. "No, but even if the girl hasn't reported it, there'll definitely be an investigation now."
"Good. That'll clear it all up and prove he didn't do it."
"Maybe so, but his reputatio
n will be tarnished."
Poor Ryder. What a big mess. "How did the media find out?"
"Leaks from the college or team, the police maybe." He shrugged.
"Could even be one of her friends," Kate said. "If one of them is angry enough at what she went through, then they might want to get revenge by making Ryder's life difficult."
"Kate!"
She held up her hands. "I'm not saying he did it or didn't do it. I'll keep an open mind. What I am saying is be careful, Jane. Women don't come out accusing guys of rape just for the fun of it."
I stood and closed my fists at my sides. "I don't know this girl and I can't know her motives, but I do know Ryder. He wouldn't do it."
I stormed off before she could speak to me again. I couldn't talk to her anymore.
It wasn't Kate who followed me, but Ben. He caught my arm, jerking me to a stop. "You're going to visit him, aren't you?"
"No. I don't think me showing up on his doorstep right now will be any help. I'm going to do some gardening. I need some fresh air and hard work while I take it all in."
He let me go with a nod. "Okay. It's getting late. I'll throw some meat on the grill in a little while." He kissed the top of my head. "He'll be okay, Jane. If he's the good guy like you say he is, then the truth will come out. I just wish he knew what a great friend you are to him. He probably needs that right now."
His words stayed with me as I headed outside to a patch of weeds in the front garden. I knelt in the dirt, but didn't pull out any weeds. Ben was right. Ryder would be in desperate need of a friend. He was under enormous pressure, and although that didn't excuse the way he'd treated me, it did take some of the sting out of it. I wasn't sure how I would have reacted in the same situation. He needed to know I believed he was innocent. He also needed to know that the media had gotten wind of it.
I headed along the path connecting our two properties, climbed over the gate and walked quickly up to the Cavanagh house. Nobody answered my knock, but I heard banging coming from the back. I went round and found Mr. Cavanagh throwing wooden boards into a pile. Ryder wasn't with him.
"Hi, Jane," he said, stretching his back. "Nice to see you. How's your Gran?"
"Fine, thanks. Is Ryder home?"
"Not right now. He won't be long if you want to wait."
"Okay."
He went back inside and came out carrying two planks of wood over his shoulder. Sweat dampened his shirt and hairline and he grunted as he threw them onto the pile with the others.
"Can I help you with that?"
"It's okay, thanks."
I eyed the pile of wooden planks. They were rotten and I realized they were floorboards. It would have taken him quite a while to lift them all and carry them out. "You shouldn't be doing that on your own," I told him.
"Ryder did most of it."
"He's been helping you?" To my shame, my surprise came through loud and clear. I cringed. "I mean, of course he would have. I didn't mean to imply he didn't. Wouldn't." I bit my lip to stop myself from talking.
Mr. Cavanagh laughed. "Imply all you want because it's true. He hasn't lifted a finger ever since we came back. I never asked mind, so maybe it's partly my fault too, but I wanted to see if he'd offer on his own." He leaned against the porch rail and sighed heavily. The poor man looked exhausted, and not just physically. He was emotionally drained. "He didn't offer," he went on. "Not until yesterday afternoon, after he came back from your place. What'd you say to him, Jane?"
Me? Surely it wasn't something I said. "I…I can't really remember." It was more or less the truth. My words were a blur. All I did remember was telling Ryder that I'd loved him for years. It made me feel sick just thinking about it. "I doubt it was anything I said."
"Must have been. He's been different ever since."
"Different how?"
"Quiet, in a thoughtful way, not morose like he was before. He's been working like he's been making up for lost time. He worked late last night, pulling up these boards, and he's gone into Winter to source replacements. He should be back soon. Come in and wait for him. Time I took a break anyway."
I followed him inside and he poured me a glass of white wine and got himself a beer. He clinked my glass with his bottle and gave me a gentle smile.
"Thanks, Jane."
"For what?"
"For being Ryder's friend. You've always been a grounding influence for him. Should have packed you in our cases and taken you with us, eh?" His eyes turned glassy and he took great interest in his bottle.
"He was always pretty grounded," I said.
"You think so?" He shrugged. "I don't know. There was always the potential for him to go off the rails if he stopped training. Too much energy, that's his problem. He needs an outlet for it. Football was good for him that way."
"Didn't he train hard at college?"
His nod was slight, hesitant. "At first he did. But this last year…"
I swallowed. I didn't like where this was heading. "Mr. Cavanagh, I just heard something on the news. Something about Ryder."
"On the news?" He set his beer down on the table and sat slowly, like his body hurt to bend it into the required position. "What did they say?"
"That a woman is accusing him of rape."
His hard swallow was audible.
"Is it true?" I asked.
He rubbed his hand over his jaw and chin. He looked like he hadn't slept since coming home to Winter. "Why would a girl lie about that?"
He'd misunderstood. I'd been asking if the report was true and someone really was accusing him of rape. I already knew she was lying, simply because I knew Ryder. So why did he sound like he had doubts?
"No way, Mr. Cavanagh. You can't possibly think Ryder did it."
"No. No, of course not. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding."
I wasn't sure how a misunderstanding could arise from any sort of intimate situation, but I didn't say so. I didn't say anything. I got the feeling Mr. Cavanagh wanted to talk to someone about it, so I let him."
"He had a good first year," he said. "Kept his head down, worked hard, like he did in high school. He got himself a good reputation. A great one. Coach loved him, all the staff loved him. They said he had star potential. I guess that's how it started. When everyone talks about you like you're a God, it boosts your ego. That's bad for a kid."
"Surely it didn't go to Ryder's head. It never did at high school."
"College is a much larger scale. Multiply the adulation he received in Riverside High by a hundred and that's what it was like. Plus, you weren't there to keep him on the level."
"Me?" Oh yeah, right, Ryder's conscience, his leveling influence.
His face fell, his cheeks sagging like a bloodhound's. "Sorry, Jane, that's not fair. This is all Ryder's doing, no one else's. Not the staff and not yours. He's got to be a man and own up to what he did."
"He didn't rape her!"
"No, of course not. But he did live a wild life last year. He went out too much, drank too much. His training and studies got pushed aside and replaced by girls and parties. His friends weren't like the friends he had here. They weren't good kids and they encouraged the sort of girls who only date football stars. Ryder encouraged them too." He passed his hand over his eyes, pressing the thumb and finger into the sockets. "I let it go. I didn't pull him aside and tell him to settle down. I should have reined in his behavior, said something, done something."
I sat in the chair next to him and touched his arm. "Mr. Cavanagh, there's nothing you could have done. Ryder wouldn't have listened to you anyway. By the sound of it, he wasn't in the right place to listen to fatherly advice. You can't blame yourself and I'm not really sure you can blame Ryder either. So he lived a little. He had lots of girlfriends. It's okay. That's not illegal. What this woman is accusing him of… I don't understand how she can do it. Do you know her?"
He shook his head. "I think she was the girl he was kind of dating at the time."
"Kind of?"
A cell phone
sitting on the bench rang. "It's Ryder's," Mr. Cavanagh said. "He must have forgotten it." He got up and eyed the screen. "It's the college."
He answered it and I listened to half a conversation. Or less than half. Mr. Cavanagh said very little. Most of it consisted of "Uh-huh". He hung up and leaned back against the bench. Weary didn't even begin to describe how he looked. If I didn't know his age, I would have thought him nearing eighty. I hoped he wouldn't suffer another heart attack.
"Sit down, Mr. C." I took his elbow and steered him to a chair. He was shaking. "Who was that?"
"The college. They confirmed what you already told me—the media have gotten wind of it somehow. They assured me the leak didn't come from them, but…" He shook his head.
"What else did they say?"
"They told me to engage a lawyer. I don't know any, Jane."
"They're not going to engage one on Ryder's behalf? Surely they're sticking by him."
"Officially, yes."
"But unofficially they're hanging him out to dry."
He blinked at me, his eyes damp and cloudy. He was an old man, way out of his depth with nobody to turn to for help.
"They wanted to stress that they don't think he's guilty," Mr. Cavanagh said, his voice weak. "But they can't afford to be seen as condoning rape either."
"Believing Ryder innocent is not condoning rape when he didn't do it!"
"They don't know Ryder like you and me. To them he's been a kid out having a good time, maybe too good sometimes. They don't know what he's really like. They have a reputation to uphold in the community, and they have to say the right things. Something like this will be disastrous PR."
I didn't give a damn about their PR. I only cared about Ryder.
His cell rang again. I checked the screen, but the number was blocked. I didn't answer it. They hung up, but it rang again almost immediately.
"We should get that," Mr. C said.
"No, leave it. It might be the media. We don't want to say the wrong thing. They're going to be out for his blood. Something like this sells newspapers. Star college footballer accused of rape. It doesn't matter whether he's innocent or not, they just want the most sensational story they can get. We'll hire a lawyer and ask for his advice on handling the media."
