Chapter 25 My Breaking Point
Keep Derek? As if he were a prize to be reclaimed and not the man who'd shattered me. I wasn't sure which stung more—her words, the sincerity behind it, or my own foolish hope that chasing him was smart.
Catherine beamed at me, her smile so bright as if she hadn't just suggested I throw away my dignity. "Think about it, Vanessa. Nothing would make me happier than having you on board." She paused, letting the words settle. "The wedding's next month, keep me posted before then."
I opened my mouth to speak, but a sharper, more irritated voice cut through first.
"Derek's wedding is what's happening next month, if I'm not mistaken."
Catherine and I both turned towards the door. Sure enough, Ryker was standing there, his eyes drifting between me and Catherine.
"What exactly does my fiancée have to do with that?" he added, stepping into the room.
Catherine replied. "Just girl talk. Nothing that concerns you." She turned to me, smiled, and whispered. "I'm sure you'd prefer to keep this between us."
I swallowed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryker's expression harden. Of course it did. Keeping secrets didn't sit well with him.
Nevertheless, I forced out a polite smile at Catherine. "I think so."
Catherine left shortly after. I exhaled sharply and turned to leave, but Ryker caught my arm. His grip was anything but gentle.
"Running off already?" Ryker stepped in front of me, still holding my arm, blocking my path. "What did she say to you?"
My eyes dropped to his hand that was holding my arm in place, and then, back to his face. "And where exactly did you spend the night?" I replied with a question.
"At Miles's."
"Who's Miles?"
"My best friend." He answered. "Now, tell me what Catherine told you."
"She said that when you were young, you used to spend time in the kitchen with a particular maid and that's how you learned how to cook."
Telling him Catherine's final words would only be asking for trouble.
Knowing Ryker, he wouldn't hesitate to put her in her place.
But why should I care? Catherine was unbelievable, and maybe... unhinged.
Ryker frowned. "That's it? That's all she said?"
I nodded. "Yes. Can you let go of my arm now?"
He did, and I took a step back. He was still watching me, those calculating brown eyes fixed on mine.
There was something about the way he stared at me. Cold but a little hint of tenderness that I don't recognize, one that made my toes curl at the vulnerability that comes with the way he watched me.
"Didn't we agree to be honest with each other last night?" He began.
Oh, please.
"So, are you going to tell me exactly what Catherine said, or not?"
He leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. I couldn't look away, his stare had me pinned in place.
Since when did I allow Ryker to have this much power over me?
Since...I don't know.
Ryker cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheekbone as he whispered. "I'm waiting, Little Lamb."
My eyes dropped to the hand cupping my jaw. A cold shiver ran through me as I wondered when it would wrap around my throat again.
"I...I don't..." I stammered, struggling to find the words. "What if I don't want to talk about it?"
"Then I'll just have to find another way to make you talk."
A rush of delight filled me.
I felt hot all over. My tits tickled, my vagina rubbing her metaphorical hands together thinking she was going to get some tonight. And it was highly probable at this point.
With the media heating up, my career hanging, Derek's call, and now Catherine's 'proposal'... I desperately needed an outlet. I needed to fuck away this tension in me. This frustration and exhaustion.
I shouldn't be thinking about screwing Ryker. Last time was a mistake. It shouldn't happen again.
"She..." I hesitated. Then, I realized I didn't owe Catherine silence, not after knowing she watched me suffer at her son's hands. "She wants me to help ruin Derek's wedding."
I expected anger, irritation, or even disbelief. But his face was blank, like he'd been waiting for this.
He hummed, nodding. "Did you agree to do it?"
I squinted my eyes at him. "Why aren't you surprised? Is that... normal to you?"
"For someone like Catherine, it's very normal. But I don't care about whatever nonsense she says to you..." he continued to rub my jaw. "What matters is how you respond to her bullshit. Tell me, what did you say to her?"
"What do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear you say you slapped the words right back down her throat."
A bubble of laughter escaped against my will, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as I laughed harder.
But he didn't laugh, just stared at me with eyes full of anticipation. It took a moment to compose myself, and my laughter faded into a smile.
"You really want me to assault your step-mom?" I bemused.
"If anyone ever earned it, it's Catherine." He asked again, his voice steady. "So?"
"Of course, not. I didn't slap her with anything, if that's what you're dying to know. She's an older lady, why would I even do that?" I wiped the single tear from the corner of my eye, blinking.
"Shame. Would have paid to see it."
"Would you prefer I handle your family with violence?"
"With honesty, that's all I ask."
My eyes widened in shock. "Ryker!"
He brushed past me, saying. "A slap like that? She'd remember it. But you let that opportunity slip."
I spun. He was standing next to Missy now, rubbing her fur. His back was turned to me.
"You want to know what I think?" I said, raising my voice just enough.
Without looking back at me, he asked. "What?"
"Maybe I've been giving the wrong impression." I said.
He carried Missy from the crib and turned to face me with a frown on his face. "Why do you say that?"
"She probably thinks I'm some clueless pushover she can twist around her finger and bend at will."
"You're not clueless, Vanessa."
"You think so. But they don't. Catherine doesn't." I argued, annoyed about this new realization. "The sooner they figure that out, the less crap I'll have to deal with."
"So...what do you plan to do?"
I paused. Unsure of myself. "Am I losing it?"
He shook his head. "No, you're not. I understand you."
"You do?"
He nodded. "Yup."
"Or you're just being nice?"
"I have zero reasons to be nice to you."
Right.
"Fair enough. I want to change how people see me. I don't want to come off as an ignorant pushover. I want to be...." I fumbled for the right word. "Different."
"You mean...you want to let loose?"
"Yeah. That's the word." A grin tugged at my lips. "So... are you in?"
He chuckled, stepping closer. "You really wanna go wild, huh?"
"Hell yes."
"Alright then." His gaze dropped, lingering. "First step? We get you a dress that doesn't scream 'I've been nice all my life.' "
I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face. Heat prickled through my skin, a mix of excitement and something fiercer stirring inside me.
"Fuck. Yes."
Ryker's eyes locked onto mine with that teasing glint. A familiar smirk tugged at his lips.
"So... where are we heading first?"
I tilted my head, matching his smirk with one of my own, feeling a rush of boldness I hadn't felt in a long time. "Strip club sounds wild enough, yeah?"
He laughed, a sound that sent a ripple through my chest.
"Now we're talking."
Energy buzzed inside of me as I launched myself towards the stairs. Maybe this was what I wanted. To unwind. "Hope the city's ready, because I'm done playing nice."