"Did you just say Christmas?" My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Did you seriously just use that as an excuse?"
"I-"
"Let me make something very clear," I continued, each word precise despite the tremor in my voice. "I don't give a fuck what fucking day it is. I don't care if it's Christmas or Easter or the fucking apocalypse. My woman has been missing for five weeks. She could be de-” I stopped myself before I could finish the word. “She could be being tortured right now while you're worried about your fucking holiday plans." Silence on the other end for a moment. Then he spoke, his tone careful.
"Ryder, I understand you're upset, but-"
"No, you don't understand," I said, my voice rising. "You can't possibly understand what this feels like. But let me help you try. If I don't get those camera feeds in the next hour, I'm going to come down to that sad little apartment of yours. You know, the one on Blackstone Avenue? Third floor, unit 3C? And I'm going to show you exactly what happens to people who don't deliver when I need them to." More silence, then a shaky exhale.
"Jesus, Ryder. Are you threatening me?"
"I'm fucking promising you," I said, my voice deadly calm now despite the storm raging inside me. "One hour. Or I'll make sure this is the last Christmas you ever celebrate."
I ended the call before he could respond, tossing the phone onto my desk. The burst of rage left me as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a hollow emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to push back the burning sensation that might have been tears if I had any left to shed. When I looked back at the screens, the footage was still playing. Cade still walking. The van still appearing. Her body still going limp as they struck her. An endless loop of the moment my world ended.
My phone rang again, and I snatched it up, expecting my contact calling back with excuses or apologies. But the screendisplayed a different name: Luce. I hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button. I hadn't spoken to my cousin in days, not since she'd last visited Covenant House and found me... not myself. The memory of her face, shocked, frightened by what I'd become, flashed through my mind. But I couldn't ignore her. Not today. Not when she was with my father.
"Yeah?" I answered, my voice rough from disuse.
"Ryder?" Luce's voice was small, choked with emotion. She'd been crying; I could tell immediately. "Are you... how are you?"
"Fine," I lied automatically. "What's wrong? Has he done anything?" My father, Aaron Purcell. The thought of him laying a hand on Luce sent a fresh surge of rage through me. Enough that I may have even left my room long enough to stab the bastard through his cold, dead heart.
"No, no, nothing like that," she assured me quickly. "He's just... he wants you to come to dinner. He says it's not proper for you to be absent, that it 'sends the wrong message.'"
Of course. Appearances. The only thing that mattered to Aaron Purcell.
"Tell him to go fuck himself," I said flatly. "I'm not coming."
"Ryder, please," Luce's voice cracked. "I know you don't want to see him. I don't blame you. But... I need you here. It's awful without you here.. Everyone's pretending everything's normal, but it's not. Nothing's normal. And I miss-" She broke off, a small sob escaping her. "I miss Cade so much." The sound of Cade's name in Luce's voice hit me like a physical blow. I closed my eyes, gripping the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles turned white.
"I can't," I said, my own voice dangerously close to breaking. "I can't sit there and eat turkey and pretend to be cheerful and merry while she's gone."
"I know," Luce whispered. "I feel the same way. But I'm scared, Ryder. I'm scared for her. For you. For all of us. It feelslike everything's falling apart, and I don't know how to hold it together anymore." I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat.
"I can’t rest, Luce," I said finally. "Not until Cade's home. If she can't have Christmas, I don't see why anyone else should." Silence stretched between us, filled with all the things we couldn't say, the grief we couldn't fully express.
"Do you think..." Luce began, then stopped. "Do you think we'll find her?" The question I'd been avoiding, the one that haunted me every waking moment. Did I think we'd find her? After five weeks of nothing? After every lead had gone cold, every trail had disappeared?
"Yes," I lied, because I couldn't bear to say the truth out loud. "We're going to find her, Luce. I promise. I'm doing everything I can. I won't stop until she's home." Another sob, muffled like she'd pressed her hand over her mouth.
"I believe you," she said, though I wasn't sure she did. "Just... take care of yourself, okay? Cade would want that." Cade would want. The words twisted in my chest like a knife. As if she was already gone, as if we were already speaking of her in the past tense.
"I have to go," I said abruptly. "Tell my father I'm busy. Tell him whatever you want. Just don't expect me there."
"Okay," Luce said softly. "I love you, Ryder. Merry Christmas." I ended the call without returning the sentiment. Merry Christmas. The phrase was obscene, a mockery of everything we'd lost.
I turned back to the screens, but the footage had blurred before my eyes, the familiar shapes distorting into meaningless patterns of light and dark. I blinked hard, trying to focus, but exhaustion and emotion conspired against me. Instead of Cade being dragged into the van, I saw her tied to a chair, bruised andbleeding, screaming for help that never came. I saw her locked in a dark room, huddled in a corner, her once-vibrant hair matted and dull. I saw her being touched by strange hands, violated in ways that made my stomach heave. I saw her body dumped like trash, abandoned and forgotten.
"NO!" I shouted, slamming my fist down on the desk so hard that one of the monitors rocked on its stand. "No, no, no!" I stood up so violently that my chair crashed to the floor behind me. Pacing the length of my room, I tugged at my hair, trying to pull the images from my mind physically. But they wouldn't stop. They never stopped. Each scenario more horrific than the last, each one feeling more possible, more likely, with every day that passed without finding her.
"She's alive," I muttered to myself, a desperate mantra. "She has to be alive. She's strong. She's a fighter. She wouldn't give up." But even as I said the words, doubt crept in like poison. How much could one person endure? How much could Cade withstand before she broke? She'd already been through so much, even before the abduction. The punishment in the woods. The public humiliation. The betrayal by those who should have protected her. By me. I'd failed her in every way a man could fail a woman. I'd hurt her, violated her trust, broken her down until she was vulnerable, and then I hadn't been there when she needed me most. If I'd just been there that night. If I'd gone with her to dinner instead of staying at Covenant House. If I'd insisted on accompanying them. If Logan hadn't left her alone. If, if, if…
The useless litany of regrets circled through my mind like vultures, picking at the carcass of my sanity. My gaze fell on the half-empty mug of cold coffee on my desk. Without thinking, I grabbed it and hurled it across the room with all my strength. It shattered against the wall, leaving a dark stain on the expensivewallpaper, shards of ceramic raining down onto the carpet. The violence of the act did nothing to ease the pressure building inside me. If anything, it intensified it, a feedback loop of rage and helplessness that demanded release. I swept my arm across the desk, sending papers, pens, and empty cans flying. I kicked the fallen chair, sending it skidding across the room to crash into the bedframe. I slammed my fist into the wall, once, twice, three times, until my knuckles split and blood smeared the pale paint. The pain barely registered. Nothing could compare to the agony of not knowing where she was, what was happening to her, if she was even alive.
"Fuck!" I screamed, my voice raw and broken. "FUCK!"
My legs gave out suddenly, and I slid down the wall to the floor, my bloody hand leaving a smeared trail behind me. The room spun around me, exhaustion and emotion finally overwhelming my body's desperate attempts to keep going. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept properly. Couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a full meal. Couldn't remember what it felt like to exist without this constant, gnawing fear eating away at my insides.
