“I know. It was a lie. Ryder was protecting me from Tommy that day. He was just trying to help, and I lied to get rid of him. It was all my fault.”
“Penny…” My mom sits the cup back down and crosses the room. Sitting down next to me, she takes my hand into hers. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I was stupid, jealous, and desperate for someone to like me. When you started fostering Ryder, I felt like he was taking you away from me. It was dumb and immature. But at the time, I just wanted him gone. And then the fight happened, and Ryder got in trouble. Everyone blamed him, and then the next day, the police came to the school asking questions, and I lied.”
I’ve never been so ashamed in my life. I can’t even look at my mother while I confess this. I hurt someone, really hurt him, changed his life because of my selfishness.
“I don’t know what to say, Penny.”
“There is nothing to say. I did that, and I deserved everything that happened to me after.”
“Don’t say that. We all make mistakes. What I don’t understand is why you stayed with Tommy. Why did you let him treat you like that? Why didn’t you just tell us the truth?”
“Right after I talked to the police, I felt so guilty. I was going to tell them, tell you, but then Tommy caught me on my way home. He started talking to me, being very nice and charming. He told me that he always liked me and that I did the right thing, and we could now be together. He started walking me to school every morning, picking me up every afternoon, bringing me presents. I believed it all, fell for his lies. I thought he actually loved me.”
“Tommy is an expert manipulator. He had us fooled too. It took us a while to figure out he was trying to get you away from us, and when we figured it out, it was already too late. He had you wrapped up in his web, and we didn’t think we’d ever get you back. Then he came looking for you here, about two months ago. We were so worried.”
“That’s when I got away. I wanted to come here, but I was scared that he would find me and that you wouldn’t want me back.”
My mom squeezes my hand gently in response. “We always want you here. This is your home, no matter how old you are. Your dad will be home from work soon, and then we can get you situated in your old room.”
“Mom, I can’t stay long. I should probably go soon.”
“Penny, if you think I’m going to let you walk out of that door after not seeing you for so long, you are very, very wrong.”
“But–”
“No, buts.” she holds up her finger, “You are staying, and that’s the end of it.”
“Okay,” I finally agree. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.
Now, I can only hope that Ryder is not going to come looking for me. Hopefully, I won’t be worth the trouble.
Chapter 20
Ryder
She’s been gonefor two weeks now. The house feels empty, like something vital is missing. It’s quiet, too quiet. Mojo knows it too. He’s been moping around, missing her, same as me.
I shouldn’t be surprised by her taking off. I gave her no reason to stay, no reason to trust me. I treated her like shit, kicked her when she was already down. I know all of this, but none of that makes her leaving easier. Quite the opposite. It makes it harder.
As soon as I realized she was gone, I sent one of the bartender girls for the club to the women’s shelter, looking for her. I knew that they wouldn’t let me within ten feet of the front door. She wasn’t there, so I went to the only other place I could think of.
I snuck up to the house, sneaking around and looking into the window like a creep. She was there, sitting at the dinner table with her family, a family we once shared.
I was about to knock the door down, pull her out, demand that she come back to me, but then something happened.
She smiled…
She fucking smiled, and in that exact moment, I felt the icy exterior of my heart crack, shatter into a million pieces. Each piece cutting into the inside of my chest, causing a pain I’ve never felt before.
It was a small, seemingly insignificant gesture. She smiled at something her mother said, her eyes lit up, and her shoulders shook slightly as her smile turned into a giggle. She was happy, content.
In all those weeks, she stayed at my house, not once–not one time–had I seen her smile. Not once had I seen her eyes light up or heard the sound of her laughter. All I saw was her pain, and her tears and felt her trembling in fear.
I hated her for what she’d done to me, hated her for so long. Now, I realize I’ve done way worse, and I only have myself to hate.
My phone rings, dragging me out of my thoughts. I answer without checking the screen, knowing exactly who it is.
