Chapter 40: Chapter Forty

It was all silent for now. Ryder was out, and Saffron was left alone once again, with only her thoughts to keep her company.

More than anything, she just wanted to go back to sleep, wake up in a few hours, and pretend the last four weeks had not happened.

Hell, she wanted to pretend that the last three months of her life had not happened, that it was just a bad dream, and she was still back at home, tending to her deadbeat father while plotting ways in which she would be free of him forever.

But, they have happened, and all she was now left with were broken dreams and an invisible shackle tying her to a mafia gang and keeping her against her will.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in waves, coating her shirt with wetness as she remained in the same spot Ryder had left her in.

She took a deep inhale and let it all out, no longer panicking or trying to process what those memories she had experienced had been. She was well aware of what her situation in life was now, and she absolutely detested it.

It was cruel and unfair.

Grabbing a pillow, she pressed it to her face and screamed hard into it, trying to suppress the sounds as she screamed and screamed until her throat was raw from the exertion.

Pulling it away from her face, Saffron gasped for air, greedily sucking it in, as she fought against the urge to hyperventilate, overanalyze, and panic all over again.

Never once had she stopped and asked, ‘why her?’ when the Alpha’s men had shown up at her house and took her to their island.

Never once had she asked, ‘why her?’ when the islanders had picked on her and bullied her with no real reason.

Never once had she asked, ‘why her?’ when her father chose his addiction over his only daughter time and time again.

But here and now? Today? This entire situation? Everything she had witnessed in her dream? Absolute fury coursed through her veins, overriding the anxiety and apprehension that had threatened to pull her under only moments ago.

Without knowing what she was doing, Saffron pulled on each end of the pillow she was still holding and tore it apart, showering herself with down feathers.

The feathers exploded in all directions, floating in the air, and coating every inch of the bedroom.

Why her?

Why her, damn it?

Why?

Why did it have to be her?

Why couldn’t it have been someone else?

She let go of the pillow’s carcass and grabbed a crystal decanter, flinging it at the wall opposite her, listening to the crunching sound as the glass met the wall with a satisfaction that was yet to be met.

She watched as the glass shattered into pieces, the red liquid it had been holding sloshing down the wall and dripping down it in a macabre display of art that did nothing to quench her thirst for vengeance.

What had she done to deserve all this? What had she ever done in her life to deserve the pain and the hatred, the humiliation and the ostracization? What?

Why did she have to endure everything?

A scream tore from her lips as she ran towards the other bedside table and picked up the glass lamp, throwing it at another wall, unconcerned with the mess she was making, and watching as it broke into tiny shards, the bulb exploding with a spark before it fell down the floor with a loud clatter.

She stared at the destruction she had wrought upon the bedroom with a detached expression, absolute fury still riding her hard.

The overwhelming anger and desire to be anywhere but where she was took over, ripping another soulful sob out of her lips before she had a chance to let it out.

She grabbed another lamp, raising it over her head, preparing to smash it over the walls that held her prisoner––

“What are you doing?” Ryder’s voice came from behind her, interrupting her breakdown, his voice echoing through her, and making her freeze.

Eyes wide, she whirled around to face him, the lamp slipping from her grasp and crashing into the floor with a loud explosion that rocked her on her feet.

Her lips parted slightly, the fury slipping out of her body in a rush, as she stared down at the mess she had made, fear and confusion now overtaking her senses.

What had she done?

What was he going to do to her?

Was he going to hurt her?

Was he going to make her pay for destroying precious bedroom items when she had nothing to her name?

Was he going to…

The thoughts kept coming, tripping over each other, each more gruesome than the last, making her feel as if the blood had been drained from her body as panic overtook her once again.

“Saffron?” his voice broke through the haziness of her thoughts, returning her to the here and now.

“I…” she paused, swallowing hard over the lump that had gathered in her throat, an involuntary shiver wracking her body.

“What’s going on? What happened here?” he queried as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door after him and eating up the space that separated the two them in four long strides.

“I…” she blinked against the tears that had welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over and drown her in a pool of her sorrow.

She looked down at the fractured pieces of the lamp by her feet, unsure of what to say.

It was just too much to process, and there were too little words to express what had happened.

She felt absolutely disoriented.

Her stomach sank when she was still unable to find the right words to say, her thoughts escaping her and threatening to pull her away with them too.

Ryder let out a long sigh as he curled his hand over her arms, the sound pulling her back into the bedroom, the touch grounding her into the present.

“It’s okay,” he uttered, as he pushed her down onto the bed gently, brushing a few tendrils of hair that had escaped from her bun away from her face and cupping her chin. “Don’t worry about the mess. I will have someone clean it up. I just want to know if you are okay. Are you hurt?”

Was she hurt?

No, she wasn’t.

“No,” she replied on autopilot, her mind cloudy and still refusing to allow her to focus.

“Saffron?” Ryder called out, but he might as well have been thousands of miles away from her in that moment because his voice felt distorted and out of reach.

Her heart was beating erratically, her hands shaking uncontrollably, a loud ringing blaring in her ears.

What was happening to her?

She blinked, trying to clear away the murkiness from her mind but it was to no avail. Nothing she did worked.

It felt like she was drowning, drowning, drowning, burrowing down deeper and deeper, with nothing and no one to pull her out.

Up was down, and down was up.

It made no sense to her.

“Saffron!”

The sharp sting of cold water splashing over her face brought her back to the present, distorting the ringing sounds, and blurring her eyesight for a bit.

When she blinked the water out of her eyes, she was back inside the bedroom, cold water dripping down her body soaking her, Ryder standing over her with an empty cup of water, concern and trepidation all over his face.

“I’m okay,” she said as she wiped at her face with her hand, breathing out evenly. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly, dropping the cup on the table and crouching between her legs, taking her hands in his.

“Yeah,” she nodded in the affirmative, trying to smile but failing miserably. She had no idea who she was trying to convince.

“What now?” she asked, changing the subject swiftly when Ryder opened his mouth to speak.

“You return to the slave quarters,” Ryder spoke after a beat, his lips curling down in distaste.

Saffron nodded before pulling her hands out of his hold and scooting back on the bed, putting some distance between the two of them.

She needed to think, and she needed to do it without her senses being clouded by his scent and presence.

“I will get you a fresh change of clothes,” Ryder uttered, as he rose to his feet and headed towards the door.

Saffron nodded, looking away to watch outside the window.

Ryder turned on his heel and exited quietly, not saying another word. If he looked back her way, Saffron couldn’t say.

Her eyes had welled up with tears once again, and there was no way she was going to let him see them, not after witnessing her mini breakdown.

She blinked, and the waterworks began, falling down her cheeks in fat droplets as she thought about what she was going to do from there.