Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“King—”
“Now your purpose begins,” he says and my heart batters against my chest so hard it feels like it might break free. That’s because behind him I can see Ryan. My brother’s goon, Sanchez, has Ryan, his big, meaty hand three times the size of Ryan’s shoulder, is clamped down tightly on the little boy. The grip is obviously painful, because poor Ryan's head is at an odd angle and he’s doing his best not to move.
He’s crying.
There are tears running down his face. He’s crying silently, but the sobs are moving through his body. I scramble off the bed, getting the first energy I’ve had in days.
“Ryan,” I gasp, I lurch towards him, but King grabs me—not letting me get close. His hand wraps tight around my neck, the force of it bruising. He squeezes even tighter, causing me to gasp as I try and drag air into my lungs. He leans in, his face so close that I can feel his breath against my ear.
“Remember what I told you, Rory?” he asks, his voice deadly soft.
I try to nod. I can’t really with the hold he has on me, but I manage enough movement that he knows I say yes.
“Make sure you stick to your side of the deal, Sis,” he growls. He uses his hold on me to practically toss me back on the bed. I fall, but not far enough on the mattress. Instead I slam against the foot of the bed, too out of control to stop myself from crumbling against the floor. I look up as my ass slams onto the hard tile of the floor. Sanchez does something similar to poor Ryan and he falls into my body. I absorb his fall, my arms immediately going around him, holding him to me.
He doesn’t speak. I think he’s afraid to. I kiss the top of his head, never taking my eyes off of King.
“It’ll be okay now, Ryan. It’ll be okay,” I whisper to him as quietly as I can, my gaze locked onto King’s.
“It will if you remember our deal, Rory,” King warns.
“I… I want my dad!” Ryan dares to cry, his voice hoarse and cracking from his tears.
“I am your father, Ryan. You better get used to that now,” he says, his smile looking so sinister my stomach turns.
I think I was wrong before. Our father didn’t turn King into him… King is much worse than our father ever was.
6
Rory
The minute the door closes, I turn Ryan to face me. I look over his little body, searching for injuries. Just because King believes Ryan is his, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt him. King would hurt anyone or anything—and has.
“Ryan? Are you okay?” I ask, running my hands over him, just to make sure.
“Daddy,” Ryan cries. “I want, Daddy.” He collapses against me, letting his silent sobs change into a sound so full of pain they hurt.
“I know you do sweet boy. I know you do.”
“I tried to do what Daddy told me, but I got lost,” he says, in between gulping breaths.
“What did he tell you to do, honey?” I ask, my heart breaking for him, for me…for the baby inside of me—even if Noah didn’t believe it was his…
“He told me to go to you. He said you’d take care of me,” Ryan says, his voice now muffled because he’s buried his face tightly into my stomach. My hand is brushing his soft hair, my other hand wrapped tightly around his back, holding him and trying to bring him comfort.
His words cut me. I thought Noah hated me, but according to Ryan one of the last things he ever did was tell his son to go to me. What do I do with that? How do I even process it? Did he trust me in the end? Did he care—even just a little? Did he know I’d do anything to keep Ryan safe? I have so many questions, but I know they will never have answers. How could they?
Noah is gone.
I’m lost in my thoughts. I don’t know how long I hold Ryan, I lose sight of time. I just hold him tight and absorb his misery and take it inside of me, letting it settle deep into my own.
“Rory?” Ryan asks, when his sobs have finally calmed. His voice is raw, the tears have taken their toll on him—just like mine have to me.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where’s Daddy?”
It’s a simple question. Two words that should be so easy to answer.
They’re not.
Simple words shouldn’t scald you—burn you so deep that each syllable robs you of breath.
Where’s Daddy?
I chicken out. I shouldn’t…
But… I do.
“I don’t know baby. I really don’t know.”
Truth and lies are sometimes so fucking close together they destroy you. I let them, but I can’t let them destroy Ryan. I just can’t.