Eli tries to pull my hand from my hair, his voice soft. “You’re in love with Ryan, aren’t you?”
I stare at him, finally letting my arms drop.
Merci huffs. “Of course he is. Look, you asshole. I followed him out of class. He was a mess. He told me what happened with the scholarship, then he took off running. I couldn’t keep up.”
I have to find him. Have to explain. Ryan couldn’t have gone far. His bear is still on the bed. But where the fuck would he go?
Think. Fucking think.
Kai.
He’d go to Kai.
I stumble toward the open door. My ribs are fucked, the room is spinning, and blood coats my teeth.
None of it matters though—only finding my husband does.
Chapter 24
Ryan
Haven't slept all night. No matter how hard I tried, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes staring at the Penguins poster on the wall. Other times at the photo of Mom, Dad, Sarah, and me on the nightstand.
The pillow’s damp under my face, the navy blanket twisted in my hands so tight my knuckles ache. My chest keeps hitching, and I can’t stop making these broken sounds.
Got back to Erie late last night. The train ride's a blur—three hours of watching my reflection in the dark window, phone buzzing against my thigh until I finally shut it off. Each vibration made my stomach clench.
Larry picked me up at the station. One glance at my face, and he looked ready to murder someone. Told him what happened. Mostly. Didn’t bother mentioning how Connor held me at gunpoint. Or how he drugged me.
But everything else came pouring out.
The blackmail. The marriage. Losing my scholarship.
I curl tighter, throat aching from crying so hard.
Need my bear. But he’s back at Crestwood. In that room. Withhim.
Might as well have ripped my heart out and left it there too.
There’s a knock on my door. “Ryan? You awake?”
I wipe my face with my shirt and sit up. “Yeah.”
The door opens and Larry steps in, a bottle of water in his hand. He sets it on the nightstand. “Figured you could use this.”
“Thanks.”
He settles into my desk chair. “How you holding up? Get any sleep last night?”
I shake my head as the tears fall all over again. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
His thick eyebrows furrow. “For what?”
“You did so much. Called in favors with Coach Nieminen. Pushed me to try for Crestwood.” My throat tightens. “And I fucked it all up.”
“Ryan, stop.” His voice is firm but gentle. “You didn't fuck anything up.”
“My scholarship’s gone. Gone. Everything you worked for—”
