Kiss of Fire (13 page)

Ryland stepped away from the kitchen door and right to the passenger side door. He opened it, letting the evening air and the fragrance of the rose bushes waft into the car. He leaned right in, his body hovering close to mine, so he could talk to my mom.

“Thanks for driving her here, Mrs. D.”

“No problem, Ryland. Just make sure to have her home by midnight.”

“You have my word. Home by midnight. Not harmed, scratched, or beaten. Perfect condition only.” He held his hand up in the Boy Scout salute like he was making a vow to her then moved his head further in, stopping my progress out of the car.

“Oh, and, Mrs. Despain, thanks for everything.” Ryland leaned even further into the car and pulled my mom to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Her eyes grew wide before she registered what was happening and returned the hug.

This little moment brought a small, sad smile to my face. I had never met Ryland’s mother, and we never talked about her. I had asked him about her once, a year or so after we had met. He had looked at me with this terrified face, threatening tears, so I had changed the subject. Even as we grew older it was something that we never discussed; so, to see him wrap his arms around a mother figure was heart-wrenching.

“Midnight,” he repeated before moving out of the car and helping me out.

We both waved good-bye to my mom as she drove off, all of us with big, happy grins plastered to our faces. We watched the taillights disappear before we moved. Ryland grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers before leading me into the kitchen.

Dinner service had just gotten underway, so the kitchen was a crazed mess of activity. Even though Edmund would be dining alone tonight, he still demanded a full service be presented. Chantal, the cook who swung shifts with my mom, was calling out orders to the hassled staff who barely noticed our trek through the kitchen. We moved through the usual corridors and stairways, but when we were about to burst into the main hall that led to Ryland’s room, Ryland stopped and pulled me behind him.

“I need you to do something for me,” Ryland began, a mischievous smirk playing around the corners of his lips.

“Okay,” I hesitated, curious.

“I need you to climb on my back.”

“What?”

“Please, Jos. Timothy has been stalking this hall tonight, and I can move quicker if I carry you.”

I nodded at him. Odd request, but, whatever. I moved behind him and placed my hands on his shoulders, unsure as to what to do next.

“Jump,” Ryland prompted; so I did, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He moved my legs up a bit, wrapping my body even closer to his. His hands gripped my thighs as he ran down the hall. The door to his room opened the second we got there and closed behind us as Ryland shoved it shut with his foot. I moved to get down, but Ryland held my knees tighter.

“Wait.”

I didn’t move. My body stayed frozen on his back, waiting for something to happen, some sign that I could get down. His body tensed for just a moment before relaxing and releasing me. I found my feet, almost falling sideways into the large chaise lounge that sat by his door.

“You okay?” his voice strained as he fought a laugh.

“Yes. What was with that, Ry? You’re acting like we’re conducting espionage.”

“Sometimes I feel like I am.”

“Ryland LaRue, double O 4, Super Secret Agent.” I put my hands in a gun shape and aimed around his room until I landed my sights on him, only to find him smiling before he turned around.

I could see his intentions, and I was in trouble. I turned and ran toward the closet where the Nerf guns were hidden behind his shoes. I only hoped I was faster than he was. I took a flying leap, dive-bombing into the shopping mall of a closet. I crawled on my belly to the Converse section and threw them to the side to find... nothing.

“What!” I yelled.

A monotonous chuckle sounded right behind me.

I flipped around, backing myself away from Ryland’s large figure as he towered over me. It was no use; I had only moved three feet before his big hand wrapped around my ankle, pulling me out of the closet. The carpet rubbed against my back, grabbing my shirt and pulling it up to my bra-line. I tried to move it down, while desperately trying to keep my mark hidden. Why, of all days, did I not cover it with a Band-Aid?

Ryland had already dragged me back into the sitting area. His long legs straddled me as he looked down, his bright, blue eyes blazing.

“Thought you could get away from me, did you?”

“You stole my stock of guns, you menace! You wouldn’t shoot a defenseless girl, would you?” I batted my eyelashes at him in a foolish and useless attempt to distract him.

“Your womanly wiles are no match for me,” he laughed like a loud monotone villain as he pulled a bright, orange gun from behind his back. I cringed as he soaked me with stream after stream of freezing cold water. I sputtered and fought as he moved to crouch closer to me, his body prohibiting mine from getting away.

“Mercy!” I screeched from behind a curtain of water. “Mercy!”

Ryland chuckled and wiped the water that was dripping from my face with the palm of his hand.

“That was mean, Ry. You moved my guns.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” His voice seemed sincere, but he still hovered above me, biting his lip. He stayed there, above me, our eyes locking a bit too long. I felt my heart pulse; I wasn’t ready yet.

“Can I get up now?” I asked, pulling my shirt back down to cover my exposed stomach.

“Yeah.” Ryland moved away from me. A moment later, one of his white, fluffy towels landed on my face.

I sat up and began to wipe and blot at my face and clothes in an attempt to dry off. I moved my now damp hair around my ear, making sure everything that needed to be covered was.

“Where’s the sweater I gave you?” he asked as he fiddled with the large entertainment center.

“I had to leave it in Ilyan’s car last night, so my mom wouldn’t flip.”

Ryland jumped and took a frantic step toward me. The look on his face froze me in place on the floor.

“Who?” he roared.

“Wyn’s brother,” I said.

Ryland relaxed a bit, but something still seemed off.

“He’s a jerk, Ry. Like the epitome of a jerk older brother,” I offered him the first explanation I could think of. Even though his reaction didn’t fit with the protective crush theory I was going with.

Ryland studied me for a minute, his chest puffed and frozen in what…? Fear? Anger? I couldn’t place it. Finally, he turned away from me, back to the entertainment center, and I made my way to the couch where a large chili cheeseburger sat waiting for me on the coffee table.

“Sorry, about that,” Ryland said, his back still to me as he slid a DVD into the player. “I thought you were talking about someone else.”

“It’s okay, Ry. Don’t worry about it.”

Ryland sat beside me as the movie started, pulling his large burger onto his lap. The title of the movie came up in bloody, red letters, right before scary music kicked in and the camera panned over a lake.

“
The Evil Dead
? How scary is this? You know I don’t do scary, Ryland.”

“I think it’s more like over-the-top scary.”

I still looked at him skeptically as some lady from the 70s began to sing a song.

“It’s supposed to be funny.”

“Okay, but if it gets too scary, we’re turning it off.”

Ryland nodded at me and went back to the movie.

It was too scary; I didn’t even finish my burger. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have been that frightening; I was just a chicken. I wasn’t even sure what was going on. There was something about a book made out of human skin, and everyone kept turning into demons and trying to attack each other. And there was blood, lots of fake, watery blood. By about halfway through, I ended up plastered next to Ryland, his arm wrapped around me as I kept hiding my face in the collar of his yellow polo shirt.

“It’s over,” Ryland crooned, his hand rubbing my back.

“That was cruel, Ry. You made me watch the entire thing.” I didn’t even want to move my head from his chest.

“Well, you didn’t ask me to turn it off, either.” My head vibrated as a deep chuckle moved through him.

I couldn’t give a decent rebuttal. He was right; I hadn’t asked him to turn it off. I just sighed and moved closer to him. In all honesty, I was comfortable, and I knew he had planned to watch that stupid movie for this reason. So what if he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it?

The minutes ticked by, but I didn’t notice. Ryland’s hand continued to trace the lines of my back, his heartbeat steady in my ear. The movie had returned to the menu, the light from the screen casting the room in a stagnant, blue glow.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, his hand still rubbing up and down my spine.

“Mmmhmmm?”

I heard his voice more as a vibration through his chest.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“I say a lot of things,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“About not wanting to be like your father. About not wanting to run his company?”

He hesitated, and my body tensed. Was that not the right thing to ask him? I heard his heart rate accelerate and went to move away from him, but his strong arms held me in place.

“Yes, I meant it.”

“But, you always wanted to be… I mean, you have always tried to be…” My words came out all jumbled. I paused; I wasn’t sure how I wanted to say this.

“Growing up, yes, I always wanted to make him happy. I always wanted to become what he wanted me to be.” His fingertips stopped for a minute, tracing the skin at my neck before returning to my spine. My breath caught at the touch of his fingers against my skin; I could almost feel his smile at my reaction.

“What changed?” I asked.

“You have seen my father what… maybe a handful of times?”

I nodded in agreement.

“I see him every day of my life. He is a vicious, ruthless man, who uses people and throws them away, just to get what he wants. He used my mother to give him a son. He uses Timothy to make him powerful. He uses…” He stopped suddenly like he’d caught himself. “I don’t want to be anything like him.”

“Then what do you want to be?”

“I want to be good; I want to look back on my life and be proud of what I see and what I have done.” His hand moved from my back to tangle through my hair, his fingers running down the long strands that fell down my back.

I felt my body tense for just a moment, but put it aside. I shouldn’t be worried about a stupid mark right now.

“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. Just do it.”

“I wish it was so easy.”

“Why can’t it be?” Our voices were whispers.

He paused. “I have to leave.”

My hand tensed against his chest.
Leave?
What did he mean? Like leave the house, leave the state, leave the family? Where?

“Leave?” I asked in a panic, hoping for some clarification.

“Yes, leave. I don’t know where to yet, but it has to be far away.”

My heart felt like lead in my chest; a tense, un-beating mass, causing more pain than joy.

“I’m planning to tell him tomorrow. And, to be honest, I am terrified.” He laughed to break the edge in his voice, but his heart rate still hadn’t decelerated.

“Why are you so scared?” I reached my hand up and placed my palm on his chest, right over his heart. His heart rate increased again before dropping. Hearing the change made me smile.

“I am afraid of what he will do to me. He has… a temper.” His last word ended as if it was not what he had meant to say. The idea of Ryland getting hurt by his father in some way made my skin crawl.

“Then, just stay, Ryland. Don’t leave.”

“I have to go; it would be worse if I stayed.”

I didn’t know what to say. His voice was so calm, but the terror behind it was so evident; it made my heart hurt. I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him toward me; he responded to my gentle tug, pulling me into him further.

“Will you wait for me?” His breath caught on my hair as he lowered his head to whisper in my ear.

“Wait for you? What do you mean?” I turned my head up to face him, surprised to see his face only millimeters away from mine. My words got caught in my throat.

“Oh, Joclyn,” he sighed. “You are the reason I want to be good. The reason I have seen the evil in my father. You make me good. You make me whole.” He paused, studying me as his fingers moved over the skin of my cheekbone. “I need to leave; for you, for me.” He paused again, his eyes searching deep into mine.

I could have stared into the endless depths of those eyes forever. I could have asked a million questions to dissect the mysteries behind them. He stopped me with three words.

“I love you.” He whispered it, his voice weighed down with the deep emotion of the million times he had tried to tell me.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My heart caught in my chest as his eyes continued to search mine. They were so full of passion, of conviction, of love. I felt tears build beneath my lids as I looked at him; so overwhelmed at what he had just said.