Who is Ryder talking about? Vaughn? Is he in Cleveland? Why are we evacuating?
It’s Friday, not quite midday. Last week, we didn’t leave until Saturday afternoon. My fingers tremble as I try getting the key into the lock. Ryder takes over, clamping his phone between ear and shoulder.
“Yes. We’ll be in Columbus in two hours.Don’tleave without me.” He grabs my elbow once the door’s locked, guiding me inside the building and up the stairs.
“How can I?” Broadway’s voice reaches my ear. Ryder should lower the in-call volume if he doesn’t want his conversations heard. “Onlyyouknow where we’re going.”
A small chuckle falls from Ryder’s lips, throwing my anxiety off course. “True. You have two hours to dream up your next gorefest. Don’t disappoint me. I’ve waited for this moment as long as you have.”
We enter my apartment, and Ryder pushes me toward my bedroom. “Pack a bag,” he mouths.
On weak legs, I stumble away, not far off throwing up over my bed. The not knowing is killing me. If it’s Vaughn they’ve found... if he’s after me... the night I ran away flashes before my eyes, a memory I’d love to forget.
I haul a suitcase from the top of my closet and start throwing clothes inside. I’m not sure when we’ll come back, whether this weekend will be anything like the last one, or if we’re going toScarletttomorrow evening. I pack a few dresses just in case. Zipping up the suitcase, I inhale deeply, centering myself. I’m fine. Ryder’s here. I’m safe.
He might hate me, but he won’t let Vaughn touch me.
My hands tremble like a candle flame in the wind as I wheel my suitcase into the living room, finding Ryder and Arthur already waiting. I head for the kitchen, my throat parched.
“Can you please tell me what’s happening?” I ask Ryder. I can hear my fear ringing loud and clear in my shaky voice. “What’s wrong? Who have you found? Is it Vaughn?”
“No, it has nothing to do with you.”
A wave of relief slams into me, knocking the wind out of my chest. I rise on my tiptoes, grasping a glass from the high shelf and accidentally topple another. It falls, smashing on the counter, right over my other hand.
Pain and broken glass slice through me. I jump back, arm outstretched. Blood pours from where a big shard is lodged between the knuckles of my middle and ring finger, dripping onto the tiled floor.
“Fuck,” Ryder snaps, his heavy footsteps filling the apartment. “Let me see.” He’s right beside me, reaching for my injured hand, his brows furrowed.
“I’m fine.” I snatch my hand back, opening the drawer where I keep my first aid kit.
Ryder grips my forearm, harder than ever before, spins me around, grabs my waist, and sits me on the counter, as far from the broken glass as possible.
“I don’t give a fuck howfineyou are. You’re bleeding.”
“Not for the first time, I know—”
“Shut the fuck up, Winter,” he snaps.
He’s vibrating with anger, his narrowed eyes shooting daggers my way, but beneath that anger hides something softer. Something that makes me uncomfortably weak in the worst way possible. Weak but safe.
“Just this once swallow your damn pride, stop telling me you’refine, and let me take a look.”
My throat bobs as I follow the order, swallowing hard. A small nod is all he needs before his deft fingers take my hand. He scrutinizes the cut, the shard of glass poking from an inch-long gash, blood swirling down my skin onto the floor.
“It doesn’t look deep enough for stitches,” he notes.
“I’ve got wound-closing strips in my first aid kit.”
Arthur’s on the move before Ryder can voice the order, his feet tapping against the tiles. He opens the first aid kit, settling it down by my hip.
Ryder gets everything he needs set up in a neat line before he looks at me again. We’re almost eye level now I’m sitting on the counter.Almostbeing the key word because I’m still craning my neck as he towers before me.
My hand hurts, but the depth of Ryder’s gaze, that softness there, the concern... it pushes the pain to the background. I’d happily slice my hand open every day if it meant he’d look at me like he does now.
“This will hurt.” His gaze dives to my mouth, summoned by a white flash of teeth as I chew my bottom lip. “Take a deep breath for me.”
“I’m—”
