The Rush (50 page)

             
I hated that Ryder was separated from me.
Hated it
. But in the same moment I also knew I would get to see him again because of what he’d done for me. And if he wouldn’t have stepped in, I could very likely be back in that sick f-ing hotel room, with that sick f-ing bastard.

             
The cops approached me eventually, after everyone in the lobby and some from upstairs, pointed me out. They took my statement, in which the only thing I lied about was that I had been set up on this date by
my pimp
. I told them instead that I was here with some girlfriends and that we happened to meet them in the lobby.

             
And the only reason I lied about that was because nobody would believe me if I told the truth. Nobody would believe I was this stupid, watered down version of Greek mythology and fate had decided that I spend my endless existence whoring it up for the god of the sea.

             
Ugh. It sounded so crazy, even to me!

             
Finally Nix and my mom showed up. The police released me into their care and they loaded me into the back of Nix’s tiny sports car. My feet were propped up on the seat so I had enough room to breathe and my mom and Nix sat in tense silence all the way home.

             
They had spoken briefly to the cops, but all they came away with was a stern lecture on keeping better tabs of their daughter.

             
Their daughter. Like they were this happily married couple and I was a wayward teenager.

             
Finally once we were on Farnam and five blocks away from the apartment complex, Nix spoke to me, “Ivy, I had no idea Taylor was so God damned crazy. I
never
would have sent you in there, had I known what could have happened to you.” His hands were white as they gripped the steering wheel so impossibly tight and his jaw muscle popped in and out while his teeth ground together in fury.

             
I was shaking, I couldn’t stop. I wondered if I would ever stop.

             
I snorted, it was an ugly, accusing sound, but I was beyond caring. “Save it.”

             
“What did you say?” my mother turned on me, her eyes glittering with anger and some unidentifiable emotion that I didn’t even want to try to name.

             
“Taylor told me this was my punishment!” I screeched. “The minute he had me alone, he told me Nix set this up to punish me! Look at me! Look at me!” My voice was getting louder and louder, but it was still raspy from being choked and screaming so much.

             
And my mother did. She really looked at me. For maybe the first time in my life. Her eyes narrowed and then widened with horror. “Did you really ask him to do that to her, Nix? This was your way of setting her straight?”

             
“I didn’t know he would go this far. I asked him to scare her, I did not ask him to physically harm her.” When I snorted the second time, he grew impatient, “Listen, you’re more valuable to me flawless, so don’t think for a moment that I wanted him to touch your skin or your hair. He was obviously a loose cannon and I take that responsibility on myself.”

             
“Obviously,” I agreed with dry humor.

             
“How could you?” my mother hissed, turning to face Nix.

             
“Therapy didn’t work,” he answered simply and then shrugged his shoulder. And that was the only explanation we were going to get. That was the only explanation he had to give. He was in charge of us. He owned us. He could do that to me every night if he wanted to.

             
My mother faced forward again, arms crossed tightly across her chest. Nix dropped us off at the front door of our complex without so much as another apology. That was it, what he said in the car was as good as I was going to get and even after all the trauma of the night I was still going to have to see him on almost a daily basis. I was still going to have to serve him, answer to him.

             
Before I could successfully vomit after that my mother cut into my thoughts, “You’re not going anywhere until those bruises heal, Ivy. I will not have people asking more questions about you. Do you understand? Not even across the street for coffee, alright?”

             
“Alright,” I accepted this. I didn’t want to go anywhere looking like this, like an ad for domestic violence.

             
“And Ivy?” she stopped me before I could get to my bedroom and strip all my clothes and then stand under the hot shower until I had brand new skin. I looked up at her, restraining what was left of my tears until I was in the privacy of my own bedroom. “I’m sorry this happened to you. It will not happen to you again.”

             
I just looked at her. I couldn’t even smile in response. I wanted to believe her, I wanted to trust her…. but she was my mom. So after an acceptable amount of stare-down I disappeared into my bedroom and accepted the fact that this was all the sympathy I was going to get tonight.

             
This was my life. I could cry it out in the shower, but the minute I stepped back onto dry ground I had to suck it up and move on.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

              “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Exie asked from beside me on the sidewalk.

             
“Uh, no. Actually I’m pretty sure I’m not ready for this,” I groaned, and then ran my fingers through my hair. Again.

             
“You don’t have to go, you know,” Sloane reminded me. “Your mom said that you could take a few more personal days.”

             
“Yeah, right. Except my mom doesn’t really know anything and I don’t want to make summer school a permanent part of the summer calendar. Besides, Tanner might lynch me if I call in to school one more time with the same excuse.”

             
“Lynch? Really?” Sloane rolled her eyes at me and then pulled me in for a two-air-kiss hug. We were so mature for our age.

             
“See you girls after school?” I asked as Exie received the same snobby goodbye.

             
“You bet,” Exie answered enthusiastically. “But only if you bring Phoenix down here with you, I have a uh, band I want to show him on my iPod.”

             
“You’re so cute when you have a crush,” Sloane laughed, but I had the feeling it was a sarcastic laugh. “See if you can’t rustle up a man for me too, Ivy. I could use someone who’s not a class-A douche.”

             
“Sure thing,” I joked. “I’ll just punch it in to my day calendar. Right between chemistry lab and American government.”

             
“Don’t be a smart ass,” Sloane warned and then smacked my ass for extra emphasis.

             
“Bye girls, love you!” I called after them while they piled into Exie’s car and headed off for their posh private school.

             
Even though they never said love you back, it had become our thing. Me saying it, them just…. receiving it.

             
Two weeks had passed since I was attacked in that hotel room. My bruises were faded, my fingernails had grown back and my voice box had returned to normal. Still images of that night haunted me, terrorized me when I let it. And I never wanted to let anyone I loved, go without knowing it for a single day.

             
“Well, look who’s back,” the one person I was making an exception to that rule called from above me on the steps. “Hey there, Red.”

             
“Ryder Sutton, when did they let you come back? Rumor has it you were sent to the big house,” I flirted shamelessly. Ryder had gone to jail, but was soon bailed out by his dad. Taylor never pressed charges and so Ryder was only charged with some minor offenses and sentenced to some community service.

             
Thank God.

             
But then again, part of me knew Nix had something to do with it and the idea of Nix helping Ryder repulsed me.

             
Violently.

             
“Fun fact,” Ryder smirked at me. “Tanner blames that on your terrible influence. Turns out your poison to a good boy like me.”

             
“Huh, imagine that,” I sighed. “And what do you say to that.”

             
“I say it’s less like poison and more like kryptonite.”  His steady gaze held mine and my heart thumped in my chest, responding to his words, even if I wouldn’t let any other part of me. “Come on.”

             
He held out his hand and I took it without thinking. If Ryder was going to hold his hand out for me, I was going to take it. Today. Tomorrow. And any day in the future.

             
He led me past the offices and down the main hallway, up the stairs and to the music wing of the school. I finally figured out where we were going when he entered the band room and started walking toward the practice rooms.

             
A few of them were occupied this morning, an advanced cellist, a beginning bass guitar and a struggling oboist. It kind of took all of my effort not to poke my head in and ask the dying duck to give it up! Music was just not in his cards. Not now, not ever.

             
Ryder stopped at the last practice room with nowhere else to go. He held the door open for me and I walked into the small space just as a cascade of butterflies let loose in my stomach.

             
“You’re going to get me into trouble back here. I’m supposed to be in class,” I lectured.

             
“Well good thing I’m the office aide and can write you a pass,” he reminded me smugly. “Besides we needed to talk. I haven’t seen you since…. it’s been too long, I had to know you were Ok.”

             
My mother banned all communication from the outside world until I healed. I wanted to believe it was her motherly concern, but instinct told me she didn’t want anyone else remembering what I looked like after they brought me home.

             
It was frightening.

             
I sat down, straddling the piano bench. It was unladylike and completely unattractive, but then maybe that’s why I did it. I wasn’t trying to attract Ryder. I was trying to do the opposite.

             
And feel the opposite towards him.

             
Until he sat down opposite me, mirroring my pose. He didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable as I did. His long legs fit the piano bench better and Ok, his crotch wasn’t completely on display either.

             
Not that mine was, I was wearing jeans after all. But still.

             
“Thank you,” I whispered to him when we were settled. He reached forward and took my hands in his, holding them in the space between us. “Thank you for…. thank you for it all.”

             
He heard my words and drank them in. “Sure, it’s what friends do.”

             
A small part of me wondered if he was belittling the situation as a defense mechanism, to deflect whatever real emotion there was between us. I thought about it for a minute, but decided to shake that off as vanity.

             
Ryder really was just a good friend.

             
“Mmm, not all friends.” I clarified, not wanting to take away his heroics, both in what he did that night at the hotel and in what he went through to actually befriend me. “Besides I’m not the easiest person to get along with,” I admitted.

             
He leaned forward so that our bodies were closer, that our lips were closer. “That is a good point,” he agreed. “It’s a good thing I only like you as a friend.”

             
I looked up to meet his silver-gray eyes, the eyes of someone that was more than a friend, the eyes of someone that didn’t think of me as a friend at all. If the last two weeks taught me anything it was how dangerous my life was, how inescapable my future was and I cared about Ryder way too much to involve him in all my bullshit.

“It’s a good thing you don’t like me more than a friend,” I breathed out on a
whispy breath.

“And why
’s that?” Ryder asked, his voice rumbly and gruff. “Why is it good I’ll never be more

than
a friend?” He looked down at our entwined hands and then up at me from under dark, sooty lashes. “Explain it to me.”

Nervousness shot through me, setting every nerve ending on edge, but I sucked in a breath for courage and answered truthfully, “
Because you know, you would never really be sure how you felt about me," I obeyed and explained it to him. "I’m all smoke and mirrors. There’s nothing real about me. And you would be just caught up in the game. Everything between us would always be fake.... forced. Maybe it wouldn’t feel like it to you, maybe you would be convinced that everything we had was real. But it would be the curse, just the curse. You would be in love with something you wanted me to be, not the real me. You could never love the real me," I sucked in a staggering breath and held it; if he told me how he felt, if he admitted more than platonic feelings for me, right now I was gone. To hell with waiting until I turned eighteen, to hell with my mom and Nix and sticking it out for my trust, I would leave tonight. I couldn't hurt Ryder. I
wouldn't
hurt him. Not after what he did for me. And not just the douchebag at the hotel. He also made me believe in friendship, in caring about somebody and being cared about in return. Falling for me was a trap and I would never involve him in the screwed up soap opera that was my life.