Betrayal of Cupids (4 page)

Ryan

The water from the shower warmed my sweat-chilled body.  I truly could have stayed under the spray forever, allowing the water to wash away my pain, but that was not an option.  I stepped out onto the worn bathmat and wrapped a dark gray towel around my hips.  I slid my hand across the fogged mirror, revealing my tired face in the reflection.  I had let a good deal of stubble form over the last few days.  While I wanted to walk away, not taking my appearance into consideration, I was reminded that this day was about Pops.  I would try to look my best for him.

I slid the razor down my cheek, knocking the shaving cream into the sink with each swipe.  After the final pull, I splashed water over my face and grabbed the hand towel.  Much better.  I rubbed my eyes and stood up straight.  I pulled the bandages from my torso, as they needed changing.  With the amount of boxing injuries I had incurred over the years, I was a master at redressing wounds; it didn’t even faze me.  These wounds were different though.  They weren’t from a match.  These hit a little close to home.

How long would it be until this became easy?

I put on a suit.

I walked to the cemetery.

I watched as they put my Pops into the ground.

I sat in the metal chair, feeling utterly alone.  A figure sat down next to me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was small, with short blonde hair.  She was wearing a giant black hat that was offering unwanted shade from the warming sun.

I would’ve said something to her, but today it didn’t matter.  I didn’t care about her.  I didn’t care about anyone.

I bowed my head, wishing to hide from the world.  The woman next to me shifted, and then placed her small hand in mine, wrapping her fingers around my knuckles. 

I knew that hand.  I knew that skin.  I knew that warmth.  She pulled her hand away, leaving behind a small piece of paper.  The words could have stopped my heart.

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake

Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take…

“Grace?”

“Shhh.”

Certain that no one followed us home, I pulled Grace through the front door.

“What are you doing here?  How did you get away?”

“I don’t know… I couldn’t… I had to…” She was stumbling over her words, but it didn’t matter to me.  I was in a complete state of shock.  When we were pulled from each other in the clubhouse parking lot after the deaths of our fathers, I never thought I’d see her again.  It wasn’t a question.  To me, it was a fact.

And yet, there she was, standing in my Pop’s house, my house.  She had found me at his funeral and offered me her hand when I begged her to follow me home.

“Grace.”  I moved toward her, taking her arms in my hands, but she froze and pulled away.  “What’s wrong?”

“No.  It’s nothing.  I just…”

I knew what it was.  It was the same distance I had seen in her after I pulled her off of Sean.  She was still hurting.  My Grace.  How could I make her pain go away?

She sat on the couch, pulling her large hat from her head.  She then slid off the blonde wig, allowing her beautiful red hair to fall into her face.

“Oh, thank God,” I sighed.

“Excuse me?”  She eyed me.

“Ha.  Sorry,” I teased, “you are beautiful either way, but…” I reached for her tousled curls, slipping them between my fingers.  “Well, I do love your red hair.”

She mustered a smile.  “It’s just a wig.  I thought it would be a good idea, given the circumstances.”

“It was.”

We sat in silence, comforted by each other’s company, but not knowing what to say next.  I would have been fine with that.  Even her silence was a blessing compared to the emptiness that had filled my life for the past few days.  Still, I felt as though our minutes might be numbered.  Someone would be looking for her.  After an eternity, I broke the tension.

“I wrote you a letter.”

Her head turned and tilted.  “I wrote you one too,” she answered.

She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

We each read our letters.  It was easier than talking. 

When we had finished, she looked up at me, and her face blushed.  There were no words, only a small nod.  I could see the tears forming in her eyes. 

I sat next to her, dying to hug her, but I feared her reaction, her rejection.  She was closed off; she didn’t want my arms around her.

But I wanted nothing more than to hold her close.  I had just watched my Pop’s body being lowered into the ground.  I had said goodbye for the last time.  My entire world had changed.

“I’m going to get out of this suit.  Would you like something a little more comfortable?”

She softly nodded, and I led her upstairs.  I pulled a t-shirt and sweatpants from my drawer and handed them to her.

“Where can I change?”

“Right here.”

“Ryan…”

Seriously?  “Seriously, Grace?  You know I’ve seen you naked.”  I laughed, not realizing the severity of her somber state.

“I just…”

“You just what?  I’m not going to jump your bones right after I just buried my father.”

“I know that.”

“Then why won’t you change in front of me?”

“I feel weird.”

“With me?  God Grace, it’s not like you need to protect yourself from me.”

Her face dropped.

“What the hell?  Are you scared of me?”

She took a breath before responding.  “No.”

“Oh my God, you’re scared of me.  What the fuck did I do?”  Maybe her fear was warranted, as with each piece of dialogue my voice grew louder and deeper, but in my defense, it was not the reunion I had expected.  She was supposed to be the antithesis of that terrible day.  Why was she allowing it to swallow her up?

“Nothing.”  Her breath was shallow. 

“I must have done something to scare you like this.”

“You didn’t.”  She was panicking, but I couldn’t control my anger.  I tried to be reasonable. I would give her the time she needed before I touched her, but she was mine.  She couldn’t deny me the sight of her body. 

“Then take off your goddamn clothes.”

“Ryan, give me a second, please,” She begged.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”  Her pain stung me.  I didn’t do anything to deserve her closed off demeanor.  I had been nothing but open with her.  I deserved for her to trust me.  “Turn around.”

She stared at me, reluctant to move.

“Please Grace,” my voice cracked, “I need you to trust me.  Today, I need that.”

I saw a change in her eyes.  She didn’t reply, only lowered her head and turned around, offering her dress’s zipper to my hand.  I slowly pulled the metal down, revealing her bare back.  I breathed in her intoxicating scent and felt heat rush through my blood.  I lied.  I could easily take her right then and there.  My Pops was in the ground, but I wasn’t.  My body still had needs.  It would be too easy.  But my stronger need was to hold her trust.  Careful to not touch her skin, I turned her around to face me.  Her eyes closed as I pushed her sleeves from her arms, allowing her dress to fall to the floor.  I saw now why she had been reluctant to show me her naked body. 

My hand came to my mouth as I witnessed her brokenness.  Every minute since, I had gotten to see the gashes her father had inflicted upon me, but they were nothing compared to what Sean had done to her.  I lost control of the situation; I needed to touch her, to heal her.  I wrapped my arms around her and drew her in.  She gasped and struggled, but I pulled her tighter into my chest. 

“Grace.  Grace.  Shhh, please.  You’re okay.  I promise.  I promise.”

And she cried.  She just kept crying as I held her.  Her tears prompted mine.  I had tried to be dead inside.  I had tried to refuse to allow that night to touch me.  But now, as the woman I loved was curled into my arms, I began to grieve.

Grace

“I’m going to get out of this suit.  Would you like something a little more comfortable?”

I did.  My black dress just reminded me of death.  I would burn it if he offered me matches.

I followed Ryan upstairs, feeling the weight of the day with each step.  I cautiously trailed him into a large bedroom.  Any other day and I would’ve taken a few more minutes to admire its beauty.  The bed was the focal point, with its posts reaching high to the ceiling, and a rich emerald canopy, the color of Ryan’s eyes, hanging from each corner.  The thick drapes matched the spattered gold accents throughout the room.  An old writing desk stood in the corner, piled high with worn papers.  On top of the papers lay a pistol.  I felt my stomach drop before Ryan handed me a change of clothes and stole my attention.

I accepted his offering and took another look around.  “Where can I change?”

“Right here.”

My breath stopped.  I didn’t want him to see what was under my dress.  Not now. “Ryan…”

His initial expression of hurt was one that could haunt me forever.  “Seriously, Grace?  You know I’ve seen you naked,” he laughed warily.

I did know that, but he hadn’t seen what my naked body looked like since Sean had gotten a hold of me.  Aside from the slash between my breasts, my ribs, arms and thighs were riddled with bruises, most of them matching Sean’s grip.  I was afraid of Ryan’s reaction.  “I just…”

“You just what?  I’m not going to jump your bones right after I buried my father.”

“I know that.”  It hadn’t even crossed my mind that he was thinking I was refusing him sex.  I didn’t even know if I could or would refuse him sex.  It was the last thing on my mind.

“Then why won’t you change in front of me?”  His face turned soft.  I had hurt him.

“I feel weird.”  I did.  Everything felt weird.

“With me?  God, Grace, it’s not like you need to protect yourself from me.”

But would I have to protect him from his reaction?

“What the hell?  Are you scared of me?”

 “No,” I jumped in.  I wasn’t scared of him.  I wasn’t… I wasn’t… Oh God.  Was I?

“Oh my God, you’re scared of me.  What the fuck did I do?”  He was getting angry.  I didn’t know how to stop it.

“Nothing.” Yet.

“I must to have done something to scare you like this.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then take off your goddamn clothes.”

I needed to think.  What was he truly capable of?  “Ryan, give me a second, please.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.”  But the gun was staring at me now. I imagined him grabbing it off the table and stealing away to Alexandria, shooting anyone in his path until he found Sean.

But why was I picturing that?  Ryan had never done anything that extreme.  Why was I making things up?

“Do you?  Turn around.”

Why was I frozen?

“Please, Grace,” he begged, “I need you to trust me.  Today, I need that.”

I did trust him.  More than anyone, I trusted him.  I needed to prove to him that behind the cuts and bruises, his Grace was still here.

I turned around and felt the heat from his hand as it hovered over my neck.  My zipper began to move down my back, and I felt the cool air surround my near-naked body.  He softly put his hands on my arms and spun me around to face him.  He was about to witness what I had become.  I couldn’t watch.

I felt the fabric of my dress fall to my ankles and heard a small gasp escape Ryan’s mouth.  I opened my eyes to face his judgment and felt his arms wrap around mine.  The shock of his touch sent my body into sensory overload.  I felt my muscles seize. 

“Grace.  Grace.  Shhh, please.  You’re okay.  I promise.  I promise.”

As my body accepted his warmth, my emotions spiraled and the tears fell.  With each cry, he pulled me tighter, until we were crying together.  It was not at all the reaction I expected.  He was exactly what I needed.

Ryan pulled away, his tear-filled eyes matching mine.  I knew I had to tell him about Sean, but I couldn’t right away.  It didn’t feel right just yet.  Although the look of my broken body didn’t send him into the fierce frenzy I had assumed, knowledge that Sean had threatened me only hours ago could be the trigger.  If he knew Sean was happily camping out in my hometown, Ryan would almost certainly explode and make a rash decision.  I couldn’t let that happen.  I couldn’t let that man take away another person that I loved.  For now, his presence would have to stay hidden: at least until I knew what to make of it myself.  Ryan lowered his hands from my back and wrapped our fingers together. 

“Take off my clothes.”

I shook my head.

“Grace.  It’s your turn to feel power.  Take off my clothes.”

After the day I had, maybe feeling some sort of power would help.  I took a deep breath and lifted my hands to his neck.  I struggled with my shaking fingers, but finally loosened his tie, sweeping the silk to the ground.  Then, button after button, I took control, reminding myself of who I was before the attack, before my life had been flipped upside down.  I pushed his sleeves from his bare shoulders, feeling a tingling sensation as my skin met his.  He guided my hands to his belt, assuring me I could continue.  My hands shook as I slid the leather from the loops.  I felt my heart climb up to my throat as I finished the task Ryan had given to me.  He stepped out of his suit pants, leaving him in nothing but an undershirt and boxer briefs.  He lifted his arms.

“You’re not done yet, Grace.”

I moved my hands to his hips and pushed the fabric up.  The sight of his abs stopped my breath short.

“Keep going.”

One more push up and I was reminded that he had scars of his own.  I abandoned my mission as my hands moved to the blood-soaked bandages.

“Ryan.”

His head turned to the side and his eyes closed.  I wasn’t the only one with pain from that night.  I wasn’t the only one who would be reminded for the rest of my life.

He pulled his undershirt over his head and looked down at me.  His fingers skimmed my cheek.

“And as for your letter to me, if there was one thing in my life I could take back, it wouldn’t have been the last few months.  It wouldn’t have been following you into that bar.  It wouldn’t have been breaking into your apartment.  It wouldn’t have been letting your father find out about us.  And it certainly wouldn’t have been falling in love with you.”  I saw his eyes drop to my butterfly-stitched slash.  “If there were one thing I could do over, I would protect you from him.  Grace,” his voice wavered as he ran his fingers through my hair, drawing my head into his chest, “I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

After a moment of embrace, I felt him break down.  I hadn’t realized how much he hurt.

I wiped the tears from his eyes, nodding in understanding.  I didn’t have to speak.  He knew I didn’t blame him for what happened.

Ryan covered my hands with his and walked backward, motioning to the bed.

But I couldn’t.  I mean, I wanted to… or more so, I wanted to want, but I really couldn’t.  The slightest physical contact still reminded me of
him. 

“Ryan…” I started.

He looked at me and offered a soft smile.  He sat down and stared up into my eyes.  His free hand patted the mattress beside of him.

But I didn’t move.  I wanted him to read my mind, to not ask any more of me than I could give.  His eyes never strayed from mine. 

“I’m so tired.  Aren’t you tired?” he whispered.

I thought back through my day, my last few days, my last few weeks, my last few months.  Yes, I was tired.  I was so tired.  I did want to sit down.  In that moment, it was the only thing I truly wanted.

So I did.

“Isn’t that better?”

I nodded.  “It is.”

“Grace,” he turned to me, grasping for words.  His fingers danced on my freckles.  “I missed you.  I don’t know what it is about you, but there’s something that refuses to leave me.”  He took a deep breath, searching my eyes for a reason to continue.  “I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night looking for you.  Then the emptiness hits when I realize you’re not there.  Please,” he pushed my hair from my face, “don’t leave me again.  You just can’t.”

What was I supposed to say to that?  Had I started speaking first, I would have said the exact same thing.  I would’ve begged to never be apart, but was that even a possibility with the path our lives had taken?  Just to see him I had to devise a plan that would allow me to sneak away from my bodyguard by shimmying down a tree.  Was that something I could spend the rest of my life doing?  Just for a few breaths of unconditional love?  While I contemplated my response, he pushed himself back, bouncing on the bed, and staring at the ceiling.  I slowly followed suit, focusing my thoughts on the shapes of the cracks around the light fixture.

I inhaled deeply, prepared to pour out my confession that I would do anything he asked of me, but instead bluntly admitted, “I could sleep.”

“Yes,” he agreed, as he turned onto his side, bringing my focus back to him.

“Is that okay?”

He looked at me, confused.  “Grace, why wouldn’t it be okay?”

It was a rhetorical question; he didn’t need an answer.  He lightly pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.  His eyes closed, and his face relaxed.  I did the same.  I could feel my body sinking deeper into the mattress as my exhaustion took hold of my muscles.  Images of Ryan raced through my mind as my body prepared itself for sleep.  I felt the whole of my being give way to the comfort.  For the first time in days, there were no nightmares.

I was pulled from my deep slumber by the sound of my phone.  It was startling at first; I couldn’t remember the last time I was in such a restful state.  I turned to roll off the bed when I felt Ryan’s hands on my waist.

“No.”  It wasn’t a command, it was more of a plea.

The call was most likely from Mr. Muscles, begging for me to tell him where I’d been hiding.  I would not.  Still, Ryan’s hands around me made my body shudder.  I needed a reason to stand, a reason to remove myself from his grip.  He must have seen the trepidation in my eyes.

“Grace, what can I do?”

“I just need time.”

“I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not.”

“Something about you is scared.  What aren’t you telling me?”

I stalled.  “Nothing.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“And I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Grace, do you?  You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”

His repetition made the question sink in deeper.  I looked away, not wanting to face the answer.

“Don’t look away from me.”  He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his.  As he did, he sat up, bringing our lips nearly together.  I silently begged for him to kiss me and to stay away.  How was I so conflicted?  “I love you Grace Brennan, and if you wanted me to, I would kiss you so hard right now.  I would remind you of the passion we felt for each other before we knew the dangers of our love.”  He leaned in closer and whispered his hot breath into my ear.  “I would give you so much pleasure you’d forget why you’re refusing to let me touch you right now.”

My body warmed at his seduction.  Could I?  What was holding me back?  I wanted to answer him.  I wanted to jump on top of him and show him the same pleasure he teased me with.  But I sat silent, still.

“You know I love you, right?”  His words were hurried.  He was obviously shocked that I didn’t fall victim to his offer.

I nodded.

“Tell me you love me.”

My nostrils flared, and my lips pressed together.

“Tell me you love me.”

He was more forceful, annoyed at my lack of commitment.

“Goddammit, Grace.”  He stood, releasing me from his touch.  “Let me help you.  Tell me what the hell is going on in your head.”  With his last word, he punched his fist through the wall.  I yelped, the sound catching me off guard.

“Fuck!” He screamed as he pulled his hand out from shattered plaster.  Ryan turned back to me, displaying his scratched and bleeding fingers.  “Did I hurt you?”

“What?”  I asked.  It seemed obvious that I was nowhere near him when he lost control.  “No?”

“Exactly.  Even in a rage, my instinct is not to hurt you.  I would never lay a hand on you.  I need you to trust that I am not like your father.”

And there it was.  He knew exactly where my reservations were hiding.  It was the thought that had been swimming through my mind for the past few days.  My father, the one person I had complete faith in, had taken his anger out on me.  How long would it be until I became Ryan’s punching bag?  How long until these scars were made by him?

“I do love you.”

“I know, Grace.”  He was instantly at my side, waiting for an invitation into my arms.  I looked up into his beautiful face and collapsed into him.  I felt a twinge of comfort.  It wasn’t much, but it was hope.  With him, I craved to learn to trust again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He drew me in tighter, and I felt my heart race.  I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was safe.  Ryan would not hurt me.  I closed my eyes and allowed the memories of him to flood my thoughts.  He had been protecting me since we met.  Maybe this man was telling the truth.