I’ll freeze and starve to death before asking Ryder for anything.
I’m woken by someone pulling a blanket off me. I instantly curl back into myself, trying to keep the quickly escaping warmth. I want the blanket back. Wait.Blanket?Where did the blanket come from?
“Rise and shine, little owl.” I cringe at the sound of Ryder’s voice. Awareness hits me like a freight train, and my eyes fly open. They are dry, and my contacts are sticking to my eyeballs. I blink the uncomfortable feeling away.
Ryder stands in front of the couch, and he is, in fact, holding a blanket. Standing tall, wearing gray sweatpants and a black shirt, he looks down on me with a smug grin plastered on his annoyingly handsome face. Before I can say a word, he throws something warm on my chest.
I sit up and look at the wrapped breakfast sandwich.Food!I unwrap andgreedily start eating. The warm, flavorful sandwich might be the best thing I have ever eaten.
“You always sleep in till noon?”
I’m not too surprised, I haven’t slept well in a long time. “I didn’t get much sleep at the women’s shelter,” I say in between large bites. That’s actually an understatement, I got almost no sleep at all. Having a roommate goingthrough withdrawals made it impossible to sleep. Even before that, I rarely got a good night of sleep. Constantly being scared will do that to you.
“I’m taking Mojo on a run. I got groceries. Put them away and then wait for me on the bed. Naked, of course.” The front door slams shut, and he is gone.
I finish eating my sandwich while looking around Ryder’s house. It’s a simple one-bedroom that screamssingle guy lives here. The furnishings are sparse, and decorations are nonexistent. The whole house looks like it needs a good cleaning. Dishes are stacked in the sink, and empty cereal boxes are on the counter.
Brown paper bags filled with groceries cover the kitchen table. I take one and carry it in the kitchen. First thing I removeis a vine oftomatoes. Ugh, I hate tomatoes. The second thing I grab is peanut butter, something I am highly allergic to. Then I pull out mayonnaise, aka pus in a jar.Next… avocados. Last time I ate one, I broke out in hives that landed me in the ER.
Oh my god! That jerk!
I dump out the rest of the bag. Doing the same with the other bags from the table, I confirm my revelation. That ass only bought things he knows I’m allergic to or don’t like. I’m not sure if I should be furious or simply impressed that he remembers all of this. I want to throw all of it out the window as a big fuck you. But since I’m good at doing what I’m told, I swallow my pride as always and put the groceries in the fridge and cabinet.
When I’m done, I do the other thing he demanded and go into his room. Walking into Ryder’s bedroom awakens a plethora of feelings. I’m nervous about what he is going to do to me when he gets back. But I’m also excited that I will probably like some of it. I’m a little giddy he told me to come in here when I was never allowed in his room when we were kids. Also, I’m sad and feel guilty. Sad for what he lost five years ago and guilty because it was my fault.
I take my clothes off and lie on his bed. I don’t care what he is going to do, I deserve this. Whatever he has planned, I will let him use my body how he wants, and I won’t fight him.It’s the least I can do.
I wait, passing the time by letting his soft sheets run between my fingers. This bed is comfortable, I notice. The pillow is soft, and the comforter is plush. I don’t remember the last time I slept in something so nice. The beds at the women’s shelter are anything but—scratchy blankets, stiff pillows, and mattresses that feel like sheets over springs.
The sound of the door opening echoes through the house, and Ryder steps into the bedroom moments later. “Good girl,” he patronizes. Taking off his sweat-stained shirt, he throws it into a hamper in the corner. “If you’d been half as easygoing five years ago, we might have actually got along.”
No, we wouldn’t have,I think to myself. I was too jealous and selfish to even give him a chance.
“What do you mean you are adopting someone else?” I ask, my mind reeling. My parents adopted me when I was four, and I have been their only child ever since. I didn’t even know they were looking to adopt more. Why did they hide it from me? Are they replacing me? Am I not enough?
“Not adopting yet, just fostering for now,” my mom explains. “This boy really needs a home, and Marissa said he would be a great fit for us.”
“A boy?”
“Yes, his name is Ryder, and he is about the same age as you,” my dad tells me. He is smiling at me, but there is no way in hell I’m returning that smile. I’m too angry, too scared. Why are they doing this to me? I’m happy with the way everything is. I don’t want things to change.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I shake my head, “I don’t want someone else living with us.”
“Penny, it’s not your decision to make. Ryder will live with us, and you need to welcome him,” my father warns, his voice stern, a tone he hardly ever uses on me.
“Well, I won’t. I hate him already!” And I did, I hated him before I ever met him. Ignoring my parents calling after me, I storm to my room, slam the door shut behind me, and flop onto my bed.
They are my parents and mine alone.
I will do whatever it takes to get rid of him…
“Get dressed and out of my bed. This was just a test.”Ryder’s voice drags me out of my memory. His dismissive tone is a stark reminder of what I am to him and what my purpose is.He strips out of the rest of his clothes and disappears into the bathroom.
Getting up, I put my clothes back on and walk back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch.
When he reappears a few minutes later, fully dressed, I ask him the question that’s been burning in my mind. “How long do I need to stay?”
“Well, let’s see. You owe five thousand. A prostitute around here charges fifty bucks an hour. Today and yesterday combined knocks a hundred off, but I also paid fifty for your pill, and I got you breakfast. You slept here, used my shower, and I got groceries. So, I guess we are back up to five grand.”
