Chapter 19 I Can’t Promise To Be Gentle
I blinked at him, startled by the full use of my name. Ryker never said it like that.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. The pain restricted my movements.
"You had me worried for a second. You looked like a damn ghost standing in the dark." He shook his head. "When you said you couldn't wait, I thought something was seriously wrong."
"What could have possibly gone wrong? I just needed to get out of there." I said quietly.
"You needed to drop dead right outside the building?" He fired back. "Because that's exactly what it looked like."
"I didn't." Though I could feel the lie wobble in my tongue.
"You almost did."
My brows lifted. "Like you would have cared."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point, Ryker?" My voice cracked. "You want me to admit I'm sick? Here—I'm sick. Happy now? I'm not going to the hospital. Just drop it."
He exhaled harshly through his nose, jaw clenched like he was physically holding himself back from exploding.
"You're my fiancée, Vanessa. I don't want you collapsing in my car."
I said flatly. "You don't care about people, Ryker. Remember when you said that?"
"And I still don't," He snapped, then sighed. "But apparently I care enough not to want a dead woman on my passenger seat."
I smirked weakly. "That's a weird way to say you're worried."
"Or maybe you're hiding something from me?"
"I'm not. I just don't want to be poked by strangers while I slowly waste away in some cold hospital. I'd rather die in your car. At least it's comfortable in here."
"No one's dying."
"What, scared you'll be alone 'cause no one else can stand your annoying personality?"
He leaned back, running a hand over his face. "God, you're exhausting."
"Likewise."
But the truth was, I was exhausted. Every inch of me ached. My lower abdomen throbbed with a deep, dull pain that felt like it was feeding on me slowly. I pulled Ryker's jacket tighter around me and stared out the window.
How long was dying going to take?
Or it doesn't have a transport fare?
"Can you stop doing this, Lamb?" His voice cut through the silence.
"I just need rest."
"You really expect me to buy that?"
"No, I expect you to let it go."
He didn't respond. I think that pissed him off more than anything—me not giving him something to fix, not handing him a problem he could throw money or violence at.
We pulled up to the house, and Cole got out to open the door. Ryker stepped out first, then reached in like he was going to carry me again.
I slapped his hand away. "I can walk."
Thankfully, the sharp pain had subsided a fair amount and I'm left doubting if it really was the cancer or just cramps doing its usual dramatic entrance.
"You can barely walk."
"I'll crawl if I have to."
He didn't argue, walking beside me like he was waiting for me to collapse again so he could scold me. But I didn't. I was stubborn enough to stay upright if only to prove him wrong.
Inside, the house was warm. I kicked off my heels and dropped the jacket on the armrest before collapsing onto the couch.
Ryker moved past me, heading to the bar area near the dining hall. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. He looked like the night had taken a great toll on him.
"I'm so terrible at this," He mumbled, watching me from across the room. "But I'm trying. Hell, that's more than I usually give anyone or bother myself with."
"You don't have to try. We owe each other only what's in the contract," I stated. "Boundaries, Ryker."
"But what if something had happened to you? I don't want to be caught off guard." He dropped the glass and added, voice low. "I just want you to be open with me, Vanessa."
"And you?" My voice came out soft. "Will you be open with me?"
He walked over, picked up the jacket I dropped, and draped it over me again like I was a fragile child who didn't know what was good for her.
"I can't promise I'll be gentle or...nice," He patted my arm gently. "I don't even know how to be a good guy or less of an asshole. But if you ask, I'll try to answer some of your questions, at least."
"Why not all? That doesn't sound like a good plan to me."
He didn't say anything else for a while, just stared at me. I didn't like him much but I couldn't help breathing him in.
"Not all questions need answers, little lamb. Some truths won't help you sleep at night."
"You're impossible," I said after a long silence.
"So are you."
"Good. Then we deserve each other."
"That's the first honest thing you've said all night."
I leaned into the couch, my body finally giving in. "Wake me if I stop breathing."
"Don't say that."
I turned my head and looked at him one last time. "Then stop looking like you're about to lose me."
For the first time, his usual mask slipped and what I saw wasn't anger.
It was fear.
Not for himself. For me.
And that's when I knew something was really wrong.